Arias for Soprano
John Carroll
Heinrich Proch:
Margarethe Siems
Mme. Moga-Georgescu
Regina Pacini
Luisa Tetrazzini
Vera Lutse
Maria Barrientos
Elvira de Hidalgo
Maria Galvany
Evelyn Scotney
Frieda Hempel
Nelly Mathot
Eva Maria Siefert
Anna Maria Guglielmetti
Elda di Veroli
Amelita Galli-Curci
Luise Szabo
Leila Ben Sedira
Clara Clairbert
Miliza Korjus
Lina Pagliughi
Josephine Tuminia
Janine Micheau
Lily Pons
Mado Robin
Maria Callas
Lydia Cortese
Nadezhda Kazantseva
Anna Maria Alberghetti
Renee Doria
Ingeborg Hallstein
Edita Gruberova
Nelly Miricioiu
Beverly Hoch
Natalie Dessay


The above listing is not meant to be all-inclusive



The Theme and Variations form is an exercise for composers to display their ingenuity and provide virtuoso showpieces for concert soloists: violin and piano most commonly, occasionally oboe, clarinet and vocalist.  Because the variations are inherently constructed to build in complexity and virtuosity with each elaboration, this type of music is a great match for the coloratura soprano; she is the voice type that is considered the exhibitionist, the one with an arsenal of feats and tricks, the singing highwire act.

In the variations form, a simple melody is stated or sung and then returned to repeatedly, each time with increasingly intricate elaborations of the original melody and/or variations in rhythm, tempo, key (major or minor), or harmonics.  Keep in mind that this is different from embellishments singers add to the da capo portions of baroque and bel canto arias.  In variations, the idea is that the composer has done all this ornamental puzzle work already.  The eager soprano who adds more embellishments to a set of variations risks decorative overkill (rhinestones on top of diamonds, as it were).

Because it is so blatantly virtuostic and conjures a bit of the circus tent, the variations form is often looked down on as a relic from a less musically sophisticated era.  Especially those for the soprano voice.  The well-known examples of the form for soprano are by 19th Century composers: Adam's famous variations on a theme of Mozart (which is turn was based on a folk tune we know as "Twinkle, twinkle little star), Armida's great scene "D'amore al dolce impero" in Armida by Rossini, and the "Carnival of Venice" which was given a treatment by both Benedict and Masse.  Along with the bird song and the waltz song, this form has all but disappeared from the repertoire.  The only 20th Century example is by Werner Egk - a set of variations on an old Viennese folk song composed in 1935 for Erna Berger to interpolate into the lesson scene in The Barber of Seville. Today this would be a daring rarity on a soprano's concert program and an extremely controversial insertion into Rossini's popular opera.

One of the most popular examples of the form is "Deh torna, mio bene" written in 1871 by Heinrich Proch (1809-1878).  That this is his Op.164 would seem to indicate that there are at least 163 other compositions but Proch was essentially a "one-hit wonder." He was Austrian-born and considered a gifted all-round musician - an accomplished violinist, conductor and composer.  He lived mainly in Vienna and translated the current hits of French and Italian opera in German for their local premieres (Verdi's Nabucco for Stuttgart in 1842 and Il Trovatore for Vienna in 1855, Donizetti's Don Pasquale for Hanover in 1843 and Linda di Chamounix for Budapest in 1842).  He also composed recitatives and "additional music" for the Vienna premieres of Nicolai's Die lustigen Weiber von Windsor, Auber's Marco Spada, and Balfe's The Bohemian Girl.

Proch was also a noted singing teacher whose pupils included Amalie Materna and Theresa Tietjens.  Materna began her career singing Offenbach but was the first Brunhilde in the complete Ring at Bayreuth, and Tietjens was a huge star in London singing everything dramatic and florid.  It is the songs that he wrote for his pupils for which Proch is remembered today. "Das Alpenhorn" and "Ein Wanderbursch mit dem Stab in der Hand" are two that occasionally show up on a young voice students' music stand.  By far his most well-known composition is the Theme and Variations which he wrote for his pupil Minna Peschka-Leutner, a prominent Austrian soprano at that time.  She was responsible for establishing its popularity.

After an introduction consisting of modulating chords that feature the woodwinds in poised anticipation, the simple theme is sung over a straightforward accompaniment.  With its even rising and falling cadence, the theme is more reminiscent of an elegant arie antiche than a folk tune, although its exact origin is unknown.  There is a faint aroma of melancholy which supports the lyrics about an abandoned lover whose heart suffers.  We then meet for the first time a short jaunty "up tempo" musical interlude that serves as a recurring structural divide between the each of the following variation episodes.  It also breaks us suddenly into a major disconnect with the sentiment of the lyrics as from now on we are into three lengthy sets of perky variations on this theme that are anything but melancholy.  The lyrics become nothing more than a shelf on which to stack the trills, roulades and staccati - vocal devices usually used to express joy or happiness.

Most sopranos cut a portion of the middle episode, a fascinating but extremely difficult series of extended trill patterns and wide intervallic leaps.  In most cases it was probably done to allow time for a long cadenza (usually with flute).  Of the dozens of recordings discussed below only the few, modern recordings include this section.  The cadenza is a long interplay with flute, conforming to the unwritten rules of the genre.  Of course, another unwritten rule is that the star soprano is free to adapt the cadenza to accentuate her own particular strengths.

We get a sense of the dying art of coloratura display and the public's waning desire for it when we realize that of the nearly forty recordings surveyed below, only four were recorded in the last 20 years.

[These ladies are presented in roughly reverse chronological order. Because so many of the recordings are from the early decades of the last century when dates were rarely given, I've tried to estimate them as closely as possible.  CD, LP and in some cases 78 rpm sources are listed when known.  Proch's piece is commonly sung in D-flat, although I have seen copies of it in the lowered key of B flat.  Unless stated otherwise, all versions are in the usual D flat major.



Natalie Dessay (CD EMI 5-56565-2, 1997)
Dessay is the current standard-bearer in this repertoire and I'd say its in very good hands.  Her voice is generally quite beautiful with its bronzed, full tones.  Dessay doesn't sound in her best voice here with some swallowed notes and an uneven line.  She has a sense of the show-off about her that is rather fun but an odd in-joke is made by interpolating a direct reference to Lucia's "mad scene" in the very long cadenza.  I don't think it really works.

Beverly Hoch (CD MCA 25966, 1986)
Hoch is fabulous in this kind of material because her light, sunny tone floats so easily in the third octave and she has a natural instinct for ornamentation.  There is great sense of fun throughout which is paramount to a successful performance of this show-stopper.  Quibble: some of the rapid staccati in the lower register are awkward at this rapid tempo; but she is amazing on high and she caps the aria with a skyrocketing, penultimate A flat in altissimo.

Nelly Miricioiu (LP ETC 1041, 1985 live recital with piano)
Although she now sings verismo and early Verdi, Nelly began as a lyric coloratura so it makes some sense to see this piece included in a recital program she gave at Wigmore Hall in mid-career.  It begins beautifully and there are some exciting and lovely moments, but once the real fireworks start, she seems uncomfortable and ungraceful.  One can tell her youthful coloratura days are just about over.

Edita Gruberova (CD Orfeo C072831, 1983)
Unfortunately, I think that Gruberova's "The Art of Coloratura" album is one of her least successful.  The voice sounds thick and gummy in the middle register with distressing swoops everywhere.  There are, however, some brilliant diamond-like staccati, and a remarkable, large and tight trill on a high C before the final D flat.

[91,R,0]Ingeborg Hallstein (LP Polydor 249 071, 1965?)
Hallstein is one of my favorite light, willowy, high coloratura sopranos.  We badly need a CD compilation reissue of her impressive artistry.  There is a coy smile at the corner of Hallstein's voice as she ebbs and flows through Proch's tricky phrases.  She interpolates a stunning, crystalline high F at the close of this most joyous rendition.

Bela Rudenko (8" LP Melodiya D4208 w/piano, 1962?)
A rare record from this popular Soviet singer that I have not heard.

Renee Doria (LP Bourg 4009-10-11, 1960? live)
Doria has an extremely ugly, vibrato-ridden voice that is pressurized to the point of near implosion.  Acidic, shrill, and quite unpleasant, this is a record I never want to hear again.  Doria frequently interpolated this piece into the Lesson scene of The Barber of Seville.

Anna Maria Alberghetti (LP Mercury MG20056, 1955?)
The Charlotte Church of the 1950s.  Although Alberghetti has twice the voice and range, that still isn't enough; too small and underdeveloped a sound is ensconced in a syrupy '50s orchestral rearrangement that nauseates.

Nadezhda Kazantseva (LP Melodiya D31759, 1955?, with piano & flute)
A creamy lyric voice opens the aria, singing the theme with a dignity that might befit a serious art song by Brahms.  There is no condescension and no hint of the pyrotechnics that lie ahead.  But knowing as we do that the vocal acrobatics are coming, the seriousness of approach to the opening section seems an odd fit and doesn't forebode well.  Unfortunately, Kazantseva never lightens her approach as the piece moves into the more frivolous passage work so there is a want of panache.  Her admirable accuracy at the moderate tempo of the second episode falls apart in the third one, which is taken way too fast.  Her tone gets cloudy and the runs are defined with aspirates.  Awkward moments of shifting registers and an unease and breathiness in the high notes give the strong feeling that she is a "flexible lyric soprano" stretched a bit too far.

Lydia Cortese (LP Star Record set, 1950s, in D with piano)
This is a strange one.  I have an 8 record set of this coloratura soprano who created (and then recorded) her own performance "arrangements" of soprano songs & arias.  These arrangements are all called "The Cortese Concert Editions" and were available from Whitney Blake Publishers in New York.  Mostly they consist of added high notes and very long, unique cadenzas.  On one side of each LP they are performed in the original language, on the other side she sings the same arias in her very own (and very bad) "Singable English Translations".  So, we get two almost identical versions of Proch from Miss Cortese both sung with piano and flute.  The step-child English version is "Oh! Come Love Returning" (whatever that means).  The voice is inconsistent - at times sounding comically amateurish and then suddenly a beautiful tone or two emerges on high.  Because it is in the key of D, she takes a penultimate high E at the end, and a fine one at that.

Maria Callas (CD Gala Gl100.515 & other CD issues, 1951)
Callas admirers often point to this cut as some sort of ultimate proof of her coloratura credentials perhaps because there is no dramatic layer to the piece and her bravura technique can stand on its own.  Not only is this unnecessary as there are dozens of arias in clean studio acoustics that display her virtuoso skills (and dramatics), it is ridiculous because the sound is so poor that it is impossible to make any real assessment.  Taken from a live broadcast of a concert in Turin, I am unable to judge the singing through the terribly scratchy haze.  All I can safely say is she seems to sing the notes comfortably.  Interestingly, never one to shirk a challenge, Callas seems to have been one of the first to include the very intricate middle section with its many trills and wide, difficult leaps.

Mado Robin (CD London 2LM448152, 1950s)
Robin's Italian is laughably bad ("Day tornuh mio ben-nay"), but as I mentioned earlier, the lyrics are so insignificant it is only a slight distraction in the opening statement of the theme and a moot point once the fireworks start.  Robin sounds pretty if a bit blanched (especially in the middle and lower registers which were obviously her weakest) and very careful and poised.  No spark comes through what seems to be merely a demonstration for her vocal coach.  Always of interest is her interpolation of an A flat in altissimo.  Considered poor taste in 'serious' music, in display pieces such as this these rare high notes are welcome.  Especially when they sound like this one.

Lily Pons (LP Columbia 10" AAL 14 & several CD issues, 1951)
Right up Pons' "rue," as it were.  Her light, marshmallow tone is very pretty if a bit too chirpy in the coloratura pyrotechnics.

There is an earlier version recorded on February 26, 1929 (now on VAI CD) that shows the dewy freshness of her youthful instrument.  Most notable is the lack of aspirations during complex coloratura work.  A shortened version (only 2:58), this has an especially fine ending with Pons darting to a vibrant top E flat and then descending to a final D flat all within a single breath.  Very impressive.  Herman Klein in a contemporary Gramophone Magazine review said it had "fresh animation".

Janine Micheau (LP London LLP12, 1949)
This old recital is ripe for release on CD as Micheau is one of the best singers of her generation and very underrated.  This aria is particularly impressive because she was more commonly known as a lyric soprano, but complex coloratura roles were in her realm and she tosses this ditty off with ease and panache.  Especially fine is the beauty of her final, long, high D flat.

Josephine Tuminia (LP EJS Potpourri, 1940s broadcast, in C)
Tuminia sang a few times at the Met in the 1940s but if known at all it is for popular broadcasts from that golden age of radio.  I read that she was a Broadway singer who crossed over into the legitimate realm.  She's very accomplished here.

Eva Maria Siefert (78 rpm Electrola, 1941)
Sung in German, this is the only version not in Italian.  Siefert is very good if a bit careful.  She pops out a high F# which has its thrills.

Lina Pagliughi (LP, Rococo 5357)
Considered Luisa Tetrazzini's protege, Pagliughi made her recording of this piece in 1940 with flute and piano.  Immediately apparent is the loveliness of her middle register and its honey-sweet timbre.  She molds the initial theme beautifully but then everything changes.  This type of complex, close coloratura did not suit her particular gifts, although the staccati are excellent.  The piece is taken at a sensible tempo so that it doesn't denigrate it into a mad scamble of ludicrous fioriture.  The typical cadenza is used but phrased quite well with nice top E flat staccati and a strong, final D flat.

Miliza Korjus (LP Arabesque 8013 & CD Preiser 89054, 1934) What a great record! A classic.  Smooth, absolutely clean coloratura with pleasant staccati and very limpid tone throughout.  Marvelous, glittering cadenza.  The glamorous blonde movie star could sing, I tell you.

Clara Clairbert (LPs EMI 161-64970/71, 1930s)
Prominent in the French coloratura repertory in the 1930s, Clairbert was from Brussels and sang there for most of her 30 year career, although she made guest appearances in Paris, San Francisco and Los Angeles.  On recordings it seems a large voice that tended to shrillness when it went over the top of the stave.  The tone gains a Gallic edge that scratches the chalkboard a bit (no doubt emphasized by the primitive technology).  Sustained notes take a second to develop but they do swell to exciting, lusty proportions.  Overall, a flexible but indelicate reading.

Leila Ben Sedira (CD Classical Collector EPM 150132, 1930)
This French-based singer, born in Algiers, has a lovely, sweet voice that is not too cloying.  There is a bright ping to the tone and a sense of showmanship.  The cadenza and penultimate E flat are radiant.

Luise Szabo (LP OASI 573, 1930?, in D)
Apparently sung in the higher key of D, this version is from one of those budget LP compilations, so it could have been transferred a half tone fast. The singing by this Budapest soprano is undistinguished either way.

Amelita Galli-Curci (CD Romophone GBK 81020, 1927)
The second of this famous songbird's two recordings of the Proch is a fine, engaging and thoroughly rewarding one.  The voice is bright and uncommonly pure, as it always was, and the notes on high are perfectly placed.  Pitch problems that mar some of her recordings from this period are hardly in evidence.  A lovely portamento is used for the opening theme, and a pleasing variety of colors in the tonal palette.  I found her trill and lower register to be better defined in this later recording.

Amelita Galli-Curci (CD Romophone 81033 & Nimbus 7852, 1917)
This earlier version by Galli-Curci gains somewhat in fleetness and tonal purity.  The theme is voiced with a smoothness of tone and intent which contrasts nicely with her wonderful, measured playfulness as the roller coaster variations veer up and down.  This is emphasized by felicitous use of rubato throughout.  There is hardly a flaw anywhere in the veneer other than a few brief moments of wayward pitch (the high E flat for example). I do miss the mature charm and interpretive color she demonstrates in her later recording, although vocally this one is to be slightly preferred.

Elda di Veroli (78 rpm Duophone GS7007, 1926)
Herman Klein's contemporary Gramophone critique was very positive, citing "pleasing florid singing . . . by a bright, pure soprano of extended compass that was clean and flexible." We will just have to take his word for it.

Anna Maria Guglielmetti (LP OASI 636, 1925?, in D)
Again oddly sung in D, this one really strikes me as too fast a transfer since Guglielmetti's timbre emerges too 'Lullaby-League' for reality.  Slowing it down on the turntable to D flat allows for a fine sturdy voice with control.

Nelly Mathot (78 rpm Music Monde, 1920s?, with piano)
As incongruent as it seems, Mathot actually skips the basic theme and just launches into the variations.  It was likely done to keep the aria on one side of a 78 rpm disk, but it is a capricious decision and in extremely bad taste.  Mathot displays limpid sound, staccati that are not pinched or chirped, and a great, compact trill.  All these things make me wish I knew more about this obscure singer.

Frieda Hempel (78 rpm Edison 82134, 1917)
This cut can now be found on an International Record Collector's Club CD (814) - Souvenirs of Opera and Song - Volume 2.  Hempel is quite beloved of the golden-age nightingales.  And justly so - she is one of the legends of that era.  Her voice is full, round, bright, and took very well to the early microphone.  Her artistry and technique were very reliable and this record is a prime example.  The tone glows evenly throughout its compass and the staccati are perfect spots of light.  This session finds Hempel a bit more cautious than usual but it has that unmistakable ring of a vintage recording - not so much in its acoustics as in its hints of vocal eccentricity. It is just the kind of forthright bravura singing we never encounter today.

Evelyn Scotney (LP Club-99-81, 1918?, in C)
This Australian singer displays a pearly, almost straight tone and great low notes in this key.  Some other divas rewrite the lower phrases up, but Scotney relishes both ends of the range.

Maria Galvany (LP OASI 574, 1905? with piano)
What a dreadful record from this Spaniard, born in 1878 in Granada.  It is ugly and choppy.  All musical interludes are cut, and like Mathot, the initial statement of the theme is omitted.  What is left intact is wild and terrible singing in a bad, noisy transfer.

Maria Galvany (LP Club-99-56, 1909 with orchestra)
Better record and better sound.  Galvany is on better behavior, too, singing with more poise.  But, and it is a big but, she rushes her staccati in her trademark machine-gun fashion, turning an already fluffy piece of music into something utterly ludicrous.  There is a high F# for what it's worth.

Elvira de Hidalgo (LP OASI 532, 1915?)
De Hidlago was Callas' teacher, as we all know, and hers is one of the worst of the three dozen versions.  Clumsy runs, "clucky" staccati, sloppy everywhere.  The tone is brittle and the high notes are white and screechy.  Even through the poor sound of Callas's version, I can confidently say that she completely surpasses her teacher.  I was curious to see if Callas used the same cadenza as her teacher since it seems likely that she would have learned the piece from de Hidalgo.  Also, sopranos often developed their own decorations - or "changes" as they were referred to - and passed them on to their protégés as a sort of sacred trade-secret.  Well, Callas' cadenza is much longer and quite different, although they both sing two sustained E flats in similar places.  The very last phrase is nearly identical in that respect.

Maria Barrientos (LP OASI 523, c. 1920)
Feather-light of timbre and musical to a fault, Barrientos is forwardly recorded and very agile.  Her version does not quite match the intense vitality of Tetrazzini's but has its own merits.  A few lines are taken up (to avoid lower reaches) and extra D flats and E flats are introduced throughout the course of the piece.  There are some good trills but slightly hesitant staccati - as if they don't initially want to sound.  Basically, this is an individual interpretation all her own.  Interestingly, Barrientos incorporates part of Tetrazzini's voice-flute cadenza from Dinorah (the 1907 recording) during her own cadenza here, and the final D flat is a fine, strong tone.  Certainly worth more than a few hearings.

Vera Lutse (1910?, in C with piano)
I taped this off an LP compilation of Imperial Russian singers at the New York Public Library years ago but didn't copy down the label information.  It is a poor record with little to offer.  She is annoyingly pluckish in the staccati.

Luisa Tetrazzini (Nimbus CD 7808 and various Romophone, Pearl & EMI, 1909) As to be expected, it is one of the best with Tetrazzini's big, bold, golden tone positively glowing.  Her matching of the flute in the cadenza is eerie.  There are interesting pauses in the musical line and her own extra ornaments to fill any previous blank spot, executed as only she could.  There is something indescribably magic here -- joy? perfection? diva incarnate? -- possibly all those and more.

Regina Pacini (78 rpm Fonotopia 39233, 1906?)
Pacini was born in Lisbon, sang all over the world at the turn of the century, and then retired in Buenos Aires, wife of the president of the country.  Extremely rare, this version goes unreviewed.  A Club-99 LP compilation includes other arias and gives evidence of a sweet, vivacious and even voice and a well-behaved singer.  The Proch would be a record to seek out, I imagine.

Mme. Moga-Georgescu (10" LP Historic Record Society HRS3002, 1905?, in D)
Does anyone know this lady's first name?  She sounds so tight and tweety, I would wager that this is probably a fast transfer that was really sung in D flat.  That said, I'm not sure its worth the effort to discuss, so bad is the singing.

Margarethe Siems (CD The Record Collector TRC10, 1904)
This may very likely have been the first record of Proch's variations ever made - and it is a glimpse into another world.  Siems displays one of those great "golden age" trills that just doesn't exist today.  In order to relish that bird-like sound, however, one has to tolerate a great deal of vocal eccentricity of the kind that is so ubiquitous in early recordings.  It is a bravura style, melodramatic in delivery, a "sell it to the back row" mentality that calls to mind vaudeville and can lead to terrible musical manners from what we often regard as technically superior artists.  Clearly tastes have changed.



Addendum by Nicholas E. Limansky:
Today, Proch's wonderful set of variations are rarely programmed on concerts.  Lily Pons occasionally sang it on radio concerts during the 1950s, but generally, on recordings, the piece has become overshadowed by Adam's more conventional and recognizable "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" variations.

During the early 1970s, Ruth Welting of the New York City Opera resuscitated the piece and interpolated it into the Lesson Scene of Rossini's Barber of Seville.  As far as I know, two tapes exist of these performances.  Accompanied by harpsichord and orchestra, Welting gives a bravura performance full of humor and one that is in keeping with the essence of the scene.  At the end of one performance she attempts to interpolate a penultimate A flat above high C at the finish but her placement slips (a rare occurance for this singer - especially since during the early years of her career Welting had an easy A flat above high C).  The next performance finds her playing it safe and adjusting the finish.  Creatively, she adopted Galli-Curci's ending by substituting a high E flat for the top A flat and then descending to a final high D flat.  Both performances show Welting's inherent musicianship and the rock-solid coloratura technique at her disposal.

John Carroll made mention above of Beverly Hoch's excellent recording. It should be noted that during the 1980s the soprano frequently programmed the Proch Variations on concerts she gave throughout the United States.  Live tapes prove that her public delivery matched the bravura and musicality found on her recording.  And as in the commercial recording, she interpolated a penultimate top A flat at the showpiece's conclusion.  Hoch seems to have been the last artist to program this piece on concerts with any sort of frequency.