I respond infinitely more positively to this 1970 concert 
                  recital than my fellow MusicWeb reviewer Simon Thompson. His 
                  verdict, in November 
                  2008, was that the DVD “captures Janowitz towards the end 
                  of her prime” and that it is “not particularly attractive or 
                  engaging … and its main value is historical.”
                I could not disagree more, though I grant that there is little 
                  point either in buying or watching this concert unless you actually 
                  respond to Janowitz’s voice and art - and taste in sopranos 
                  is notoriously subjective. This DVD is apparently one of a series 
                  named “Zauber der Stimme”, and, for me, Janowitz does indeed 
                  provide magic.
                The concert, filmed for Austrian television, was clearly something 
                  of a homecoming for her, as she studied at the Graz Conservatory 
                  and was, by this date, an established international star. Although 
                  the recital is short by most standards, her selection of arias 
                  is cunningly programmed. It moves chronologically from Baroque, 
                  through Romantic, to verismo, in order to demonstrate her versatility. 
                  Primarily renowned for her Mozart and Strauss roles, she does 
                  indeed sing Donna Anna’s “Non mi dir” from “Don Giovanni”. Otherwise, 
                  she selects no Strauss but rather five other seminal operatic 
                  composers: Handel, Weber, Verdi, Puccini and Wagner. When you 
                  think about it, that’s quite some span, especially when she 
                  sings the arias as well as this.
                The sound, although mono, is better in quality than the grainy 
                  black and white picture - but it is perfectly watchable. Three 
                  cameras provide unfussy coverage and while Janowitz is not the 
                  most animated of stage animals, I would far sooner watch her 
                  than the stuffy audience. They seem barely to respond to her 
                  singing – not necessarily her fault, I think. She is restrained 
                  in her demeanour and the only things which smack of the diva 
                  are the big hair and the sequined kaftan. It is clear that her 
                  voice easily fills the Stefaniensaal, even if her lower register 
                  was never the most refulgent. She seems to be enjoying herself; 
                  certainly she makes singing look effortless and her technique 
                  allows her to do pretty much everything she wants throughout 
                  the demanding programme. For example, she copes easily with 
                  both the coloratura and the heft required for the Verdi item. 
                  Those familiar with the live recording of her Elisabetta in 
                  “Don Carlos”, performed with Corelli in Vienna in the same year, 
                  will be less surprised by her facility in Verdi. Like all good 
                  singers, she does not need to “mouth” the notes, opening wide 
                  only to hit those glittering top Bs and B flats. She even opens 
                  Odabella’s aria with a good top C but it’s not exactly comfortable, 
                  whereas the concluding B flat is a corker. I agree with Mr Thompson 
                  that the “Freischütz” aria finds her at her best. She delivers 
                  a rapt performance, her creamy tone and seamless legato capturing 
                  perfectly first Agathe’s dreamy lullaby and then the ecstasy 
                  of her love, when Janowitz sparkles. I readily admit that I 
                  value her beauty of sound above her powers of characterisation, 
                  but I do not necessarily mean that she fails to differentiate 
                  between her heroines: Odabella is a real spitfire. Her Tosca 
                  has a bell-like purity, conveying a vulnerability and innocence 
                  which makes a refreshing change and the concluding B flat is 
                  charged with passion. She acquires a glint in the eye for the 
                  rapturous Tannhäuser aria – everything works. If I am going 
                  to carp, I would say that I could wish her diction were sharper, 
                  especially in Italian, but for the most part I found myself 
                  swept along by her singing.
                Berislav Klobucar and the Graz Philharmonic provide unobtrusive, 
                  expert support and play two overtures most agreeably, the Handel 
                  being in the old-fashioned, but still enjoyable, style.
                “Welch schöne Nacht” indeed. She sounds as if she could sing 
                  all night, too, and frankly I’d be willing to stay up all night 
                  to hear her.
                 
                Ralph Moore  
                
 see also review 
                  by Simon Thompson