Luisa Tetrazzini - Part III
The Recordings Part One (composers A - M)
Of the many discs made by this diva, the most impressive are those made between 1907 and 1913. These best demonstrate her incredible abandon and prodigious upper extension - as well as the occasional weakness at the other end of the scale. Rather than trying to discuss all her recordings I have chosen those that I feel are of special merit. My choices are purely subjective. All of them are interesting.
J B Steane summed up the value of her recordings rather well when he wrote:
"But Tetrazzini remains. She is another who suggests an ideal and sometimes fulfills it. The suggestion itself is a great contribution to singing. We know, through her, how certain kinds of music can sound, and it is the better part of her voice that we hear singing these when we listen inside our own heads. She is also a tonic. After listening to the more enervating beauties of the German coloraturas and the drooping loveliness of some of our own contemporaries, we feel how refreshing a little simple, forthright liveliness would be; and then it is time to look out a good Tetrazzini." (The Grand Tradition, Charles Scribner's Sons, Great Britain, 1974)
Part I: Arias Not Considered Within her Standard Repertoire
Mozart: "Voi che sapete" (Act II) (Nozze di Figaro) - London, 1907
Mozart: "Batti, batti" (Act I) (Don Giovanni) - London, 1907
Tetrazzini only made one recording of "Voi che sapete" but repeated "Batti, batti" in 1911. These were her first Mozart recordings, made early in her association with Gramophone (HMV). Neither opera was in her performing repertoire so one wonders at her reasons for recording them. (This is especially curious since she recorded these arias before such pieces as "Saper voreste," "Regnava nel silenzio," and the Carnival of Venice Variations - all staples of her performing repertoire.) I suspect Tetrazzini found them appealing because their tessitura was predominately low and so provided some contrast to her usual repertoire. It becomes apparent, after examining her discography that there were a number of arias like these; ones that she enjoyed singing even though they would not be considered within her normal repertoire.
I doubt that either aria will appeal to modern listeners. Her generous use of portamento and odd, grace note descents into the chest register is now considered vulgar. The use of the voce bianca is also somewhat distracting. I also suspect that many will cringe at Tetrazzini's emphatic descent into the final (chested) note of "Batti, batti" despite the fine display of legato and the nicely emphatic "si,si,si,si,si,si" that precedes. What is interesting in these recordings is the sturdiness of her low register and the rich, almost mezzo soprano timbre she produces in the upper middle area. One would not suspect that this voice could also tackle the Queen of the Night.
Michael Aspinall commented: "The speeding up of the middle section of 'Sospiro e gemo' (in Voi che sapete) with the ritard, leading back into the repeat of 'Voi che sapete', with a very long breath, is the kind of magical touch that such arias demand." (EMI notes, 1992)
Not to be denied is the smooth flow of Tetrazzini's legato and her attempts at characterization through varying textural effects. (Instead of arching through a phrase, she will "point" the top note, or instead of singing a series of notes in pure legato she will detach one or two.) These touches provide nice aural contrasts within the music and they are supported by excellent tempi. Even so, these recordings remain curiosities of Tetrazzini's discography and their interest is only peripheral.
Verdi: "L'insana parola" (Act I) (Aida) - London, July 1911
This is basically the second half of Aida's famous "Ritorna vincitor." Whether or not Tetrazzini actually sang such roles as Aida during the early part of her career does not change the fact that she obviously relished programming and recording arias from the spinto/dramatic repertoire. As mentioned before, Tetrazzini was a coloratura specialist in that she remained within that specific repertoire during the entirety of her career. One can only imagine the impact this record had on Tetrazzini's original listeners.
The aria is sung with great intensity and a remarkably strong, innate sense of the dramatic style so necessary for this music. Although the tempi are a bit rapid for us today (in order to fit it all on a single side of a disc) this is a surprisingly satisfying performance full of subtle interpretive effects. Especially nice is her intense emotionalism and the definite coloration of timbre for the line: "I sacri nomi di padre, d'amante ne proferir poss'io, ne ricordar." Her voice has the satisfying, dark lushness of a dramatic soprano in the upper middle area and although a bit pinched, the chest voice is secure and obviously holds no terrors.
Verdi: "Pace, pace mio Dio" (Act IV) (Forza del Destino) - America, May 1914 (Victor); London, June 1914
This is hardly an aria one would associate with Luisa Tetrazzini and her often criticized pallid lower register but, as Michael Scott noted, "If her recordings of 'Pace pace mio Dio' and 'Ritorna vincitor' are not among her best, many another soprano would have been well satisfied with them." (The Record of Singing, NY, 1977)
I actually prefer the first version of this aria. She recorded it again the next month in London, but, oddly, decided to omit the initial "Pace, pace" for that session. Both versions are emotional and satisfying renditions. They both also show an impressive, surprisingly expressive, lower register.
The tempi in this aria are more rapid that we are accustomed to hearing today yet there is a definite forward momentum in the piece. This is complimented by the wonderful, natural thrust of Tetrazzini's singing and her smoothly spun legato. Generally, there is little "flowering" of Verdi's melody, just some fine, sturdy singing. She sounds completely comfortable in this music - so much so that she inserts a short cadenza up to high C at the end of the main section of the aria. I found that I enjoyed Tetrazzini's "personalization" of this music and its unabashed individuality - even though if a singer attempted such things today they would be blacklisted from opera houses.
Most affecting is her entrance in measures 60 & 61 on "Ah! in mezzo a tanto a tanto duol" where the subtle emotionalism serves to disguise a pinched chest register (brought rather high - up to F). The infamous B flat octave jump during "invan la pace," so often the bane of other sopranos, is cleanly done and offered as the piano Verdi wanted. The interpolated cadenza, though not necessary, is not a bad touch and its structure keeps within Verdi's harmonics. Different from the recording made in London a month later, in this American version she ends the aria proper in the high octave - on a soft, straight B flat. The following conclusion with its "maledizione" is as successful as one would expect from this soprano - Tetrazzini digs deeply into her chest register with abandon and then offers another fine B flat at the finish. All in all an imaginative and individual recording.
Verdi: "Tacea la notte placida" (Act I) (Il Trovatore) - America, February 1913 (Victor)
Verdi: "D'amor sull' ali rosee" (Act IV) (Il Trovatore) - America, February 1913 (Victor)
Luisa Tetrazzini's 1913 recordings of Leonora's arias are certainly individual. "Tacea la notte placida" contrasts her dramatic soprano-like timbre in the upper middle and top registers with an aggressively used but pinched bottom register. There is an odd, note-by-note handling of Verdi's music which makes this less attractive than some of her other discs. Like Lillian Nordica, Tetrazzini inserts a short cadenza at the end of the first section, finishing on a laser-like A flat - a favored mannerism by 1911. (This is discussed in full under the Delibes Bell Song.) Enjoying the challenge of Verdi's closely written fioriture in the cabaletta, Tetrazzini adds energetic triplets to the phrase "ah sì esso morirò" substituting "Ah!" for the text. (This was an embellishment that was adopted by Maria Callas in various performances of this aria). In exultation Tetrazzini interpolates a brilliant penultimate high E flat.
Tetrazzini's "D'amor sull' ali rosee" was one of the first 78 rpm discs to include the recitative "Timor di me?" which is dramatically interpreted. Despite renown as a florid specialist, Tetrazzini had a natural instinct for dramatic inflection. The aria boasts a lilting tempo and an authoritative delivery. Like other Italian singers of this era, she substitutes an E flat for Verdi's G at "Ai sogni dell'amor." She also adds improvised grace notes to Verdi's line and uses her chest voice with abandon. The final cadenza is successfully altered and Tetrazzini's singing is sensitively restrained, but the augmented finish is too aggressively constructed to suit Verdi's original, gentle ending.
Part II: The 1904 Zonophone Recordings
Tetrazzini's American-made, Zonophone recordings (on Romophone) are an interesting appendix to her recording career but are predominately embryonic in their display of her talent. On September 8, 1904 she recorded five arias with careless piano accompaniment by her brother-in-law, Cleofonte Campanini. Overall, they were a fine "experiment" but provide few insights into this singer's art or voice. The diva, herself, tried to pretend she never made them.
Donizetti: Mad Scene (Act III) (Lucia)
One of them, however, does highlight some interesting specifics about this soprano - the Mad Scene from Lucia di Lammermoor. Lucia was Tetrazzini's favorite operatic role and by the time she made this recording she had already sung the role for 12 years. She first sang it in Buenos Aires in November of 1892, and her last stage performance (in Boston) was as Lucia in 1914. It was also a phrase from the Mad Scene that was inscribed on her tombstone: "Alfin son tua." Considering her love for Lucia it is surprising she only made three versions of the Mad Scene (of which this Zonophone is the first) and only one version of Lucia's Act I scena, "Regnava nel silenzio."
The disc begins with "Alfin son tua" (At last I am yours) and continues through the voice/flute duet. In this 1904 disc Tetrazzini's familiarity with the music is made clear by the easy grace with which she carresses some of its lines. The voice is remarkably agile and seems to glory in executing complex ornamental patterns. The first ornament she introduces is on the fifth note of the recording. This is an improvisational triplet figure on "fin" of "Alfin son tua." I seriously doubt this was a "planned" embellishment but rather an example of Tetrazzini spontaneously "flowering" Donizetti's music.
Tetrazzini was a mistress of this type of ornament and used it often. For lack of a better term I call the method that she (and others) use to execute this feat a "vocal flip" since that is essentially what it is - a tiny movement of the diaphragm that, when supported by the breath, riples through the voice. Although it is primarily used for executing clean triplet figures, it is also an indispensable method (or technique) for accurate florid work. Many singers mastered it, including Lilli Lehmann, Nellie Melba, Miliza Korjus, Maria Callas, Joan Sutherland, Beverly Sills, Edita Gruberova, Luciana Serra, Gianna Rolandi, Ruth Welting, and Beverly Hoch. Others never managed - Lily Pons, Rita Shane, Amelita Galli-Curci and Selma Kurz for example. To get a better idea of exactly what I am talking about, compare recordings of Philine's Polonaise (Mignon) as sung by Tetrazzini and Lily Pons. You will immediately recognize the differences in how their voices negotiate the close intervals, trills, and triplet figures.
Interestingly, Tetrazzini droped this ornament (on "Alfin") in later versions - supporting the idea that it was done on the spur of the moment. Another interesting ornament that appears is an intense trill on "ogni piacer" which is followed by staccati leading to high B flat with the lightest of touches. Her entire upper register has a sweet sheen that would eventually turn more hard, if brilliant, within seven years.
Also fascinating in this early recording is Tetrazzini's inventive pointing during coloratura flights. The cadenza is sung a capella (without the usual flute) and displays her secure sense of pitch. It also highlights her ability to peak each phrase with contrasting effects - either rhythmic alterations or marcato effects. The final high E flat is approached by a connecting swoop - an approach that was seldom used by this singer since it usually proved to be less successful than a clean-cut attack.
Part III: The Gramophone and Victor Recordings (1907 - 1922)
It is the Gramophone discs (beginning in 1907) and the Victor records (beginning in 1911), however, that provide the first, clear, portrait of Tetrazzini's allure as a singer. It is almost impossible for us to understand the impact of Tetrazzini's recordings when they were first issued since we are now accustomed to the florid recordings of such full-voiced singers as Maria Callas, Joan Sutherland Montserrat Caballe and Edita Gruberova. Back in 1907, however, the Tetrazzini discs were staggering.
Bellini: "Vien diletto" (Act II) (I Puritani) - London, July 1912
Surprisingly, Tetrazzini never recorded the cavatina of this famous mad scene, just both verses of the cabaletta. Some of the vocalism on this disc is quite staggering - especially considering the tempi taken. The chest register is solid, if a bit pinched, but the top rings out with uncommon clarity. (In at least two spots you can actually hear the recording apparatus ring from the brilliance of her tone.) The second verse contains some fascinating ornamentation - descending staccato scales, rubato effects, piano shadings, grace notes, and an elegant series of descending triplet figures. As if that were not enough, she follows this with a complicated figure of repeated, rhythmically accentuated staccati, grace notes and triplets that leaves the listener rather breathless. No penultimate high E flat is offered, just a fine thrust to a B flat which settles into the tonic A flat. According to Michael Aspinall, (EMI notes, 1992) Tetrazzini did not like this cabaletta. You certainly could not tell that from this recording.
J B Steane wrote about this recording: "Not once does one feel that the technique is being arrogantly exhibited at the expense of musical sense. Tetrazzini always maintained a clear sense of where the melody and ornamentation were leading, and when we reach the aria's final climax the combination of her urgency and the sheer beauty and accuracy of the voice make for an exhilarating experience." (Voice of a Century, Opera Now, April, 1990)
Bellini: "Come per me sereno" (Act I) (La Sonnambula) - London, July 1912
Tetrazzini only made one recording of this aria. In many ways it is surprisingly effective despite the fact that the nine-minute scena is squeezed onto a four minute disc. The "Come per me" section is sung with robust tone in the upper middle and some surprisingly sturdy descents into the chest register. Tetrazzini decorates Bellini's lines with ornamental turns and triplets which lend grace to the vocal line and do not offend. Ironically, this section of the scena lasts less than two minutes. The cadenza she interpolates is imaginative and well-phrased. The cabaletta has some fine florid clarity although everything seems to be thrown at the listener without much thought as to content. Ornamentation abounds and are sung with such authority that, unless consulting a score, you won't know which figurations are Bellini's and which are Tetrazzini's. Her finish is refreshingly different. There is no penultimate high E flat but rather a run up to a D flat which gives an entirely different feeling to the cadence harmonics. Although, generally, I prefer the use of a high, penultimate dominant of E flat, this is a pleasant change.
Bellini: "Ah non credea" (Act II) (La Sonnambula) - London, June 1909; America, March 1911
In the case of this aria, either recording can be recommended. The 1909 disc is only five seconds shorter than the 4 minutes and 30 seconds of the 1911, American effort, but both are representative of this singer's interpretive abilities. They are among Tetrazzini's most original and beautiful recordings. If listened to carefully, they also demonstrate her ability to color phrases to further her interpretation. Modern purists may gasp in horror at some of her interpolations - including a final cadenza/duet with cello, but all her ornamentation is securely within tradition. (Actually, most date back to Pasta, Malibran and Patti.) Tetrazzini's handling of them is nothing short of exquisite. In this, as in many of her recordings Tetrazzini proves that it is not necessarily what you interpolate that is important but rather how. In other words the manner in which you present your interpolations. The most accepted or traditional of ornaments can sound vulgar if not phrased with a sensitivity to not only the ornament itself, but also to where it fits within the phrase that is receiving it. That instinct was inherent in Tetrazzini.
Of all her arias, it is this one (and the Hamlet Mad Scene perhaps) that offers the most insight as to the emotional intensity Tetrazzini is said to have possessed in tragic roles on stage. There are a number of moments where examples occur. One of the first is during the phrase, "che un giorno solo, ah, sol duro." On the "che" there is a gulp or choking sound (as if Amina were crying) which is Bellini's own instruction in the score. When this phrase happens again, this effect is amplified as a definite emotional effect prompted by the singer's spontaneous reaction to Bellini's music. The embellishments that follow may seem a bit wayward to listeners of today, but the aria's text, harmonics at those moments, Tetrazzini's authoritative delivery and the soft texture of the high notes themselves make all of them fitting ornaments. Indeed, it is the ornamentation and Tetrazzini's caressing delivery of them that provides so much of the vocal elan of this recording.
There are other textural touches with which Tetrazzini shades Bellini's music but most are impossible to describe on paper. One must experience them. The concluding short cadenza with cello - really just an expansion of what Bellini wrote - is lovely for its emotional content and Tetrazzini's superb handling of the long phrases. This section features a Tetrazzini specialty: a high A is sung first in full voice and then immediately (and without a breath) repeated pianisimo. This particular vocal effect appears on a number of Tetrazzini's recordings and it always lends grace to the phrase. As if that were not enough, on the 1909 disc she offers her famous double-swell on a final, pianissimo high C. The taking of this note up the octave (she takes a final high C on both versions) was a minor tradition at the time among Italian coloraturas. Others that used it include Amelita Galli-Curci and Margherita Guglielmetti. Of all the Tetrazzini discs, this aria best displays her ability to depict tears in the voice (l'armes dans la voix).
As I mentioned, modern-day listeners often react negatively to Tetrazzini's liberal ornamentation - much as they did to the ornamentation of the more recent Beverly Sills. Both singers are strikingly individual musicians. In turn, this controversy usually sparks an argument about the relevancy of florid vocal writing in general.
Tetrazzini defended her repertoire and ornamentation:
"What is the difference in principle, I would ask, between the fioriture passages of the vocalist and those introduced as a matter of course in the most serious instrumental music? Why should a cadenza for the voice be reckoned less worthy than a similar passage for the violin or the 'cello? All the greatest masters have introduced florid passages in plenty in the noblest instrumental music. Yet the view is generally adopted that these are inadmissible, or belong to an inferior phase of the art when the instrument employed happens to be the voice." (How to Sing, 1924)
Bellini: "Ah non giunge" (Act II) (La Sonnambula) - America, March 1911
This record has always been a favorite with record collectors, and with good reason. Bellini's cabaletta brings out the best in Tetrazzini and her energy while singing this music is almost palpable. Few singers can match the exuberance she displays on this recording. It also shows her fondness for straightening out a high note while it is sustained. The short voice/flute duet at the conclusion is especially fine. To finish she sings a grand turn to high D, attacks a high C incisively and then settles on a final B flat. Inventive, yet brief, it brings the aria to a brilliant close. Although she recorded the aria for Zonophone, in 1904, that disc is not as exciting as this.
Many of Tetrazzini's most brilliant effects (such as those on this disc) were due to her ability to use her breath to its fullest capacity. In her treatise, "How To Sing" she spent pages emphasizing to the reader the importance of the correct use of the breath. She also described her own method:
"I breathe low in the diaphragm, not as some do, high up in the upper part of the chest. I always hold some breath in reserve for crescendos, employing only what is absolutely necessary, and I renew the breath wherever it is easiest.
"In breathing I find, as in other matters pertaining to singing, that as one goes on and practices, no matter how long one may have been singing, there are constantly new surprises awaiting one. You may have been accustomed for years to take a note in a certain way, and after a long while you discover that, while it is a very good way, there is a better."
Benedict: Carnival of Venice Variations - London, May 1909; America, March 1911
This two part vocal tour de force was originally written for Adelina Patti's sister, Carlotta, who, from all reports, was a fine singer in her own right. Considering the vocal obstacles of this piece she certainly must have been quite a technician. Unfortunately, no recordings exist of her voice and its "lark-like" high notes. Tetrazzini was fond of interpolating this concert piece into the Lesson Scene of Rossini's Barber of Seville. (Indeed, she would often offer raptuous audiences both Benedict's Carnival of Venice Variations and Proch's Theme & Variations during the same Lesson Scene!)
Tetrazzini recorded this piece twice. To be honest, both versions offer spectacular pyrotechnics and each has its own rewards. In 1909, Tetrazzini's high notes have a softer texture, while the 1911 version offers more virtuostic abandon and dramatic thrust. Like her recordings of the Venzano Waltz and the Proch Variations it is obvious that Tetrazzini was having a wonderful time recording this music - one can almost see her smile of delight as she gets ready to tackle some of the more difficult coloratura. That, perhaps, may be one of the most arresting aspects of her virtuostic records - instead of making the music sound impossibly difficult, Tetrazzini seems to be having the time of her life.
The opening section of the 1911 recording (my particular favorite) finds Tetrazzini's voice round and nicely shaded - all the fioriture notable for elasticity, freedom and rhythmic propulsion. In the second section with its familiar theme, high staccati are seemingly picked out of the air, and rapid chromatic scales and long, finely-rolled trills are all energetically presented through Tetrazzini's easy, nonchalant delivery. The third set of variations is a study in rapid triplet figures. Near the end of this variation there is a series of descending triplets of tremendous difficulty which Tetrazzini flips through with uncanny ease and clarity. This particular section (on the 1911 recording at least) remains one of the most amazing things the soprano ever recorded - every single note clearly audible. Aside from her Spanish contemporary, Maria Galvany and (yet to come) Miliza Korjus, such virtuosity would not be heard again on recordings until the advent of Joan Sutherland in the 1960s.
The extensive final cadenza, with its echo effects, rhythmically-accentuated staccati and thrusted high notes is as exciting as it is impressive for its accuracy. (The one high staccato that fails to sound makes no difference at all in the singer's impact.) A penultimate high E flat brings the whole thing to a brilliant close on both renditions. This piece, along with the Venzano Waltz, the Proch Variations, and the Mad Scene from L'Etoile du Nord represent the epitome of fine coloratura singing. Considering the fact that no editing was possible and that these recordings are basically live performances, the degree of accuracy is a tribute to Tetrazzini's natural gifts.
Bizet: Micaela's Aria (Act III) (Carmen) sung in Italian - London, July 1911; America, May 1914 (Victor)
Actually, it is a toss-up as to which version of this aria is better since both have their merits. Sung in Italian, the timings of both are within seconds of each other. The listener immediately notices that the aria is sung with sturdy tone, generous portamento and a vocal style not to current taste when it comes to French music. Although perhaps not idiomatic, there is an obvious commitment to Bizet's music that cannot be denied. Tetrazzini's tone is full and round in the important upper middle regions and her sense of the dramatic helps underline the intense middle section.
Both of Tetrazzini's versions of this aria are notorious due to her interpolation of a final, pianissimo high E flat - held through the postlude. Most modern listeners are scandalized. I rather like it. What no one ever mentions, however, is that although Tetrazzini interpolated an E flat, she sang it pianissimo. Understanding the context of the aria she did not just scream out a high note but rather incorporated it into the dynamic fabric of Bizet's music. It may now be considered a tasteless interpolation but that doesn't take away from the fact that it is executed with taste.
(Oddly, when it comes to transfers, because of the surrounding acoustics, the Nimbus issue does not highlight the fact that she is singing the E flat pianissimo- with Romophone (or the earlier rendition on EMI) it is more than obvious.)
Bizet: "Siccome un di" (Act II) (Pescatori di Perle) - London, June 1909
Bizet: "Brahma Gran Dio" (Act I) (Pescatori di Perle) - London, July 1909
Leila's Cavatina, "Siccome un di," from Act II shows rich tone and smooth, lyrical legato as well as round, soaring top notes of high B and C. Leila was a role Tetrazzini often played during her career and her familiarity with the music is obvious. Her authoritative delivery combined with her fresh vocal state at the time make this quite a beautiful recording. This beauty is somewhat compromised by her use of the voce bianca but not enough to detract from the beauty of her legato or the sheen of her high notes. The improvised Tetrazzini ornaments of turns and triplets make their appearance to grace Bizet's vocal line and especially lovely is her repeat of the main melody with its rise to a sustained high B. The cadenza at the end remains close to what Bizet wrote and is capped by a perfect messa-di-voce on high C.
If Leila's Act II cavatina is impressive, the bravura prayer, "Brahma gran Dio," which closes Act I is even more so. Although due to time restrictions, cuts are made, they are sensible. There are many wonderful touches that Tetrazzini lends to Bizet's music and her rhythmic accentuation is superb. Textural, tonal and ornamental emphasis abound in the short aria. High Bs shine like beacons and all fioriture is cleanly articulated. Of special note is her pointing of coloratura - especially during the final, extended cadenza. It is there that Tetrazzini adds a passage of high staccati that bounce between high C#, D and E (four of them) that ping (even in the dry acoustics of the recording studio) with a brilliance one rarely experiences on such early discs. Because of the ease with which Tetrazzini sings this passage most listeners do not notice the amount of textural pointing (or leaning into notes) Tetrazzini does within this series of high staccati. Most singers would be grateful to be able to just sing the notes. Tetrazzini plays with them.
Chapi: Carceleras (Las Hijas del Zabedo) - London, July 1909; America, March 1911 (Victor)
When Tetrazzini recorded this unusual Zarzuela aria it was not the repertoire rarity it is today. Full of text, it also has some perilous passages of triplets and other ornamntal figures. The difference between this aria and other florid pieces in Tetrazzini's repertoire was that its floridity lies about two octave below the area in which she usually cavorts. It is in these low-lying, rapid figurations that one can easily hear the benefits of the vocal-flip technique.
A number of operatic sopranos recorded this aria, including Maria Galvany, Maria Callas' teacher, Elvira de Hidalgo and shortly after Tetrazzini, Amelita Galli-Curci. What is surprising is that Tetrazzini would choose to record it at all since the tessitura lies low and requires forceful, yet fluent, singing in the lowest extremes. She obviously enjoyed performing this aria since she often programmed it on concerts. As seems to be true with a number of her concert pieces and recordings, Tetrazzini enjoyed the challenge that certain music posed to her as a performer.
She made two versions of this aria - one for Europe and one for America. The first, recorded in July 1909 shows that her voice had a fullness in the lower region when she allowed it to flow naturally, without manipulating it into the "baby-talk" timbre of which she was so fond. The American disc was recorded two years later (in 1911) and finds the lower register even more telling. Both recordings take virtually the same amount of time and both feature an anonymous castanet player. Although both versions are well done I prefer the slight difference in the lower register evident in 1911. Both end with an excellent lunge to high A.
David: "Charmant Oiseau" (Act III) (La Perle du Bresil) - America, March 1911; London, July 1911
This unusual aria was a favorite of Tetrazzini's and one she programmed on most concerts through the 1920s. It suited her voice and bravura flair. During her career it was one of the staples of the coloratura soprano repertoire and many of her contemporaries made recordings of it including Ellen Beach Yaw, Emma Calvé, Maria Ivogun, Frieda Hempel, Regina Pacini and Amelita Galli-Curci. In the past number of decades, however, it has fallen from favor. In the 1960s the French coloratura, Renee Doria, recorded it but the next recordings did not appear until 1994,- the Korean, Sumi Jo and the French Elisabeth Vidal. The next year, 1995, found Karen Smith Erickson offering her version of the aria for a small independent label, Centaur.
The aria is sung by Zora, who, after a storm in Act III awakes to the sound of the Mysoli (a Brazillian bird). Recognizing its chirping, she sings this piece in praise of its beauty.
Tetrazzini made two recordings of this exotic aria and it also seems to be the only florid aria that she recorded in French. Her American disc far surpasses the London version made the following July. Not only does it contain more of David's atmospheric prelude but it is also a better demonstration of Tetrazzini's aviary art - despite a few awkward lunges down to low D. One verse of the aria is included, with some beautiful trills and phrasing, as well as an extended voice/flute cadenza. In this cadenza she carefully modulates her voice to blend (beautifully) with the accompanying flute. Tetrazzini enjoyed these exhibitionistic contests with partnering flutes and that has never been more in evidence than here. Volleys of high staccati Bs and Ds abound as do straight tone effects. Especially nice is her ascent to a staccato high E through a series of rising trills which is then followed by an emphatic punch on a penultimate high D. This ability to forcefully attack high notes added a tremendous sense of dramatic urgency to climaxes on her recordings.
The second (London) version is over a minute shorter (much of the prelude is cut) and finds Tetrazzini in not as good voice as the earlier rendition. Some of the singing is heavy-handed and phrasing is not as elegant as it was months earlier. In addition, the cadenza, though still impressive, has some very bright, knife-edged staccati which vere towards brittleness. There is only a "swooped" (almost cheating) glance at the high E. The penultimate high D wants to constantly shift in and out of placement.
Delibes: "Blanche Dourga" (Act I) (Lakmé) sung in Italian - London, July 1911
Tetrazzini never recorded Lakmé's lyrical aria from Act I or the beautiful Act III Berceuse, but she did make this recording of Lakmé's entrance; her prayer to the Indian god, Dourga. This was a most unusual selection for recording at the time and few other artists bothered to record this atmospheric music. Recorded the same year as her performances of Lakmé at Covent Garden it gives a good idea of the quality of her voice at that time. The last page of the opening prelude is included but then there is a cut of 71 measures (Nilankantha's recitative and the chorus). Tetrazzini maintains the eerie atmosphere created by the orchestra by using her straight-tone effect which lends an appropriate aura of the exotic to the recording. Her control of vibrato and pitch are excellent and the subtle ornaments she introduces during the second verse remain within Delibes' musical boundaries. A raggle-taggle chorus of men from Covent Garden assist the diva, singing and humming (as written in the score) under her warbling. Some of the notes they sing, however, are definitely not in Delibes' score.
Delibes: Bell Song (Act II) (Lakmé) sung in Italian - London, December 1907 & July 1911; America, March 1911 & February 1913
Her first Bell Song was recorded on December 20, 1907. It was the last of three arias recorded during her first session for the London-based Gramophone Company (HMV) - the two other being "Caro nome" (Rigoletto) and the Polonaise (Mignon). All things considered it was a remarkably productive day since two classic recordings were made that day - the present Bell Song and the Mignon Polonaise. Although heavily cut, this is a performance that has rarely been equaled in brilliance. Forget about the fact that the aria is sung in Italian rather than its original French or that it is severely abridged. It doesn't matter. It still ranks as one of the top five recordings ever made of the aria - and to date, there have been well over 100.
Tetrazzini's voice is fresh, limpid and used with great vitality. No vocalise is sung, but from the first, full-throated, round F#, the listener recognizes an individual, authoritative presence. In the central aria she uses white vowels (the voce bianca) and piano effects to emphasize the heroine's youthful innocence and pathetic situation. This is a masterful performance with big, round sound above the staff and excellent pitch-pointing. One of the most interesting things about this recording is Tetrazzini's decision to use two contrasting tonal colorations as interpretive devices for the two sections of the aria. As mentioned, in the first section she often uses a white, pallid timbre. But in the second section her tone immediately becomes more robust in character and strikingly individual. Clean, interpolated triplet figures grace Delibes' vocal line, and although only one bell strophe is offered it has superb trills and pointed, full staccati sung within the musical phrase rather than pecked. The only blemish in this recording is some approximated scale work near the coda, due to the impossibly fast tempo. The staccato coda, with its excellent peak on the D#, has a wonderful insouciance. This is immediately followed by a rippling high B trill and an instantaneous leap to a ringing high E which is held almost to the end of the postlude.
By 1911, and her next recording of this aria there had been some significant changes in her voice and her manner of using it. Now 40 years old it is evident that during those four years Tetrazzini's upper register had grown and darkened. Because of these natural changes she had become enamored with a vocal mannerism of playing with surrounding acoustics - adopting a kind of laser-like effect. This is a controlled, directing of pitch into a column of sound, similar to the way an actor emphasizes words in a speech. It is different, however, from the Germanic straight-tone technique used by Irene Abendroth, Margarethe Siems or Miliza Korjus for high register work, or the straight, narrow emission of Marchesi students, Yaw, Melba, and Calvé. Tetrazzini's use was an effect not a technique, its premise and expected result not the same. This effect lends a laser-beam clarity to high notes - which shoot into the surrounding acoustics, providing the singer with a satisfying sense of power and penetration. Dramatic sopranos often use this mannerism to highlight their music - Emmy Destinn and Gwyneth Jones being perfect examples. It is also similar to the mannerism Slavic sopranos favor of combining their timbre and various resonances with the acoustics of a theatre or concert hall to point various tones within a musical phrase. In the opera house it can be an intriguing, coloristic device.
Tetrazzini relied more and more upon this mannerism to the point that by 1911 it had begun to creep into the emission of her high register which, manipulated, gradually began to lack its former, vibrant freedom. In the opera house, with acoustic distance between herself and the audience, this would have been aurally interpreted by listeners as an additional carrying "edge" to the voice. (Reviews of the time often speak of the "new diamond-like brilliance" of her top register.) In the close, dry, acoustics of a 1911 recording studio, however, it often lent a brittle quality to her upper extension. Also, interesting comparisons can be made between the high registers of Luisa Tetrazzini and Dame Joan Sutherland. On early recordings both voices experienced occasional placement shifting while sustaining high D and E flat. As they matured, both artists similarly adopted a preparatory hesitation, a monitor-like control of their high notes - as if to insure their quality. Because of Tetrazzini's extensive reliance on this "controlling" mannerism, it too crept into the emission of her upper register. Although the voice remained remarkably fluent, high notes began to lose their former freedom and became more white-toned.
Her second version (for American distribution) was recorded for RCA Victor in Camden, New Jersey, in March, 1911 (on Nimbus CD ). For that session the voice seems to be sitting quite high and is boyant. Because the voice is so responsive, she is able to color the music with some nice shadings and execute some wonderful, nonchalant phrases of the aria's staccati. Her continued fondness for "bianca" (white) vowels to suggest Lakmé's fragility and youth still predominate but the high B which ends the central aria is right on pitch. Despite a flawed initial entrance, the bell strophe is excellent, the staccati full, clean and excellently pointed and the penultimate high B trill is propulsive. Although the final E is muscularly controlled, the tone is true, has vibrato, and is admirably held to the end.
Her third version, made in London four months later, found her having an off day. The voice seems ponderous, is darker, heavier and less responsive to her demands. The orchestra plays sloppily as well. There are some unusual problems with pitch in this performance, as if the soprano was having trouble hooking into her support. The voice also tends to catch in staccati passages - where attack must be short and immediate - as if she were not sufficiently warmed up and the voice wouldn't "speak" easily. Her trill on high B is quite good but the high E sits on the low side of the note and never centers. Not daunted by this, Tetrazzini rigidly sustains it to the end of the postlude.
February 18, 1913, found Tetrazzini in Camden New Jersey's studios for a fourth and final version (to replace her previous Victor). Now the voice seems to have regained the freedom exhibited in the second version. Because of this she again provides the listener with a most rewarding rendition. The central aria finds her offering delicate, pastel shadings - some surprisingly wistful. The generating of tension between the two segments of the aria is also better handled. This time she makes sure all her staccati phonate and although the top of the voice is as bright as lightening, she offers a fine top E which she triumphantly holds to the end.
Donizetti: "O luce di quest anima" (Act I) (Linda di Chamonix) - London, November 1910 & 1911; America, 1914
This is a recording that is often selected for anthologies. That is because of Tetrazzini's wonderful, robust manner with the music. Although she re-recorded the aria in London the next year (1911), and then again in America in 1914 (which includes the preceding recitative), it is the first, 1910 London version that best represents her particular take on this aria. It is joyous singing all the more impressive because it is underlined by Tetrazzini's potent understanding of the rhythmic drive inherent in Donizetti's music. This disc sparkles from beginning to end - the staccati, turns and trills right on the mark. The ending, with Tetrazzini jumping to a penultimate high D and then high C, is especially successful. The 1911 London session finds her voice not "speaking" as well when seeking high staccati and 1914 finds her intentionally leaving out (or forgetting to include) some of her usual ornamentation.
Donizetti: "Regnava nel silenzio...Quando rapito in estasi" (Act I) (Lucia di Lammermoor) - London, May 1909
Tetrazzini recorded this scena over two 78 rpm discs and they remain among her finest. The recordings themselves are clean and clear with the singer's voice forward and full of presence. Aside from some pinched sounds in the lowest register both sections of the scena are successful performances that display not only the soprano's remarkable agility but also her firmly supported legato. Interpolations include improvised grace notes, mordents, trills and additional high staccati passages. One trill, inserted on "fe" of "fra l'aure udir si fe," was obviously meant to depict Lucia's shiver of fear at having seen the ghost. Tetrazzini's tone has a golden sheen to it and shows great intensity when within upper-middle reaches.
During the cabaletta she offers some excellent displays and makes use of her "white voice" to highlight her concept of Lucia. In the repeat Tetrazzini dazzles the listener with some complicated cascades of staccati and to finish the aria she ascends in a staccato scale up to high E which then yields to a beautiful, easy, penultimate high D. It is a remarkable and individual finish. I tend to favor the Nimbus transfers when it comes to this scena. Their transferring process, with its soft, reverberant acoustics, adds a patina of mystery to the qualities of Tetrazzini's voice. It also highlights the heady ping of her high notes.
Donizetti: Mad Scene (Act III) (Lucia di Lammermoor) - London, December 1907
Tetrazzini recorded this aria three times: the 1904 Zonophone already discussed, December, 1907 in London, and March, 1911 in America. All are interesting, although the 1907 perhaps more so.
It begins with "Splendon le sacre faci," earlier than the 1904 Zonophone, and although cuts are made, none are obtrusive to the enjoyment of her rendition or her imaginative ornamentation. One embellishment - thrusting into the chest register with a grace note - may sound odd to modern ears but it was a type of rhythmical ornament that is no longer favored. There is, however, something so spontaneous about it that I find it has its own appeal. Various mordents and grace notes make new appearances and a telling tenuto is affectingly done on "del ciel clemente." The main focus of original listeners was the (expected) cadenza with voice and flute. This Tetrazzini sings with musicality and a good instinct for the building towards a climax. Roulades and scales are phrased with elan, staccati are clean and pointed. Here again is her special effect of reiterating a high note first forte and then piano. The penultimate trill on high B flat is supple and rolled with obvious relish.
The final high E flat here is more successful than her effort three years earlier for Zonophone. What many neglect to point out is the fact that it is offered as an easy mezzo piano. Tetrazzini could have sung the note as forte with a grand thrust but she chose not to.
In the Sun, W. J. Henderson once described her technical abilities during the cadenza:
"There were leaps, runs, staccati, double swells from piano to forte, twice repeated, and a finish on the high E flat."
That is exactly what one hears on her 1907 recording. Unfortunately, she never recorded the final cabaletta of the Mad Scene ("Spargi d'amaro pianto").
Tetrazzini was not infallable, however. Even as early as 1911, she experienced occasional problems with her high register. In a review of her debut in Lucia di Lammermoor at the Metropolitan Opera in December of 1911, Richard Aldrich wrote:
"The desire to hear Mme. Tetrazzini, who made her first appearance on this occasion in the Metropolitan Opera House, was very great, and the audience was one of the largest of the season - practically as large as the house would hold... Mme. Tetrazzini is not quite the same as when she last sang here in opera. Her voice seems to have gained in fullness and even in power; its lower ranges have improved in quality. They have in a measure lost the infantile character that used to be so sriking a defect in her singing, and some of the constriction that used to make her lower tones sound pinched she has apparently overcome...She dealt out a good many high notes last evening, but in some cases not without a certain amount of caution - thus, at the close of the Sparzi d'amaro (sic), after the mad scene, which she sang brilliantly, she very speedily dropped her high E flat and took the octave lower." (Concert Life in New York, 1902-1923, NY, 1941)
Eckert: Swiss Echo Song - America, March 1911
This was a popular period-song of Tetrazzini's era. It was one of her preferred pieces for concerts and one she used well into the 1920s. It was also recorded by many of her contemporaries including Maria Ivogun, Ellen Beach Yaw and Maria Galvany. When Tetrazzini sang the piece in concert it was always singled out for comment by critics.
"It was the 'Echo Song' that stirred the house; for in the rendition the singer made use of all the artifices of her art, or rather fully employed all her marvelous skill in intricate singing. That 'Echo Song', with its haunting reverberations, was superb vocalization." (St Louis, Mo. Globe Democrat, February 7, 1920.)
Tetrazzini's virtuostic Italian arrangement of the piece is one of the better ones and includes both verses. She orginally attempted to record it in London the previous November but it has not survived.
The American-made Victor recording is one of those discs that one wants to repeatedly savor. Admittedly, this is light-weight fluff and of no great importance but when it is accepted for what it is there is much to enjoy. As with the Proch Variations and the Benedict Carnival of Venice Variations, Tetrazzini has full reign to do as she pleases and she does so with some spectacular results. The famous Tetrazzini staccati, improvisational triplets, turns, echo effects, chromatic descending scales and trills are all sung as if improvised on the spot. Not at all inappropriate in this piece is an occasional yodel-like descent into a sturdy chest register. The concluding cadenza, sung a capella, contains roulades and high staccato echo effects that would terrify other singers. In typical, brilliant Tetrazzini manner she finishes with a flourish, a series of rapid-fire staccati high As (similar to the finish of the "L'Etoile du Nord" Mad Scene), and a rare swoop to a solid high D. This is one of her most delightful recordings.
Gounod: "O legere Hirondelle" (Waltz Song) (Act I) (Mireille) sung in Italian - London, July 1909
This is one of my favorite Tetrazzini recordings and one that displays her considerable florid technique at its best. Oddly, (and I am not sure exactly why) she was fond of interpolating this aria into the finale of Donizetti's Fille du Regiment.
There is a remarkable delicacy to Tetrazzini's singing in this recording. Especially delightful are her staccati flights which ping through the studio acoustics with great brilliance. She was in remarkable voice this session and she sings the aria with the rapidity of a whirlwind. There is a delicious use of tenuto in this aria that raises her performance from a mindless display of virtuosity to the level of a lesson in phrasing coloratura with sensitivity. It is obvious that Tetrazzini is having a grand time as she flings at the listener intricate passages of grace notes, grupetti and high stacacati. The end of the aria has a remarkable effect - this is her chromatic rise from high D in a marcato passage to an easy high E which is followed by another sustained, penultimate high D. This lends an unusual air of grace and elan to the disc. On a BBC broadcast in 1959, Dame Joan Sutherland selected this disc as one of her desert island recordings.
Grieg: Solveig's Song (Peer Gynt) sung in Italian - London, 1910; America, May 1914
Tetrazzini made two versions of this lovely song. The 1910, London-made disc (with piano) is fine but I feel the better version is the 1914 American disc with orchestra. There is something very special about the way she sings this piece and there is some wonderful vocal pointing in this recording. Tetrazzini's combination of a plaintive tone with a youthful timbre lends an attractive, wistful, aura to the music that haunts one long after the recording is over. Subtle echo effects are used to enhance the "humming" section. Interestingly, the timing for the 1910 disc is 3:38 while that for the American-made version is 4:00. Those extra seconds allow Tetrazzini to expand her presentation. Her use of a pure straight tone for the final note (high A) of both verses promotes the haunting quality that lingers.
Lama: Come le rose - London, 1922 (unpublished)
This was Tetrazzini's last recording. It was made with orchestra on September 15, 1922. "Come le rose" was a popular Italian song at the time and this recording proves that her voice was unimpaired despite the hiatus due to the war years. Although short (not even three minutes long), she covers two octaves in her delivery. The voice seems larger than ever - especially in her upper middle and top registers - which now seem to have the weight of a lyrico-spinto. The lower is still lighter in texture but more evenly welded to the middle. Overall, the voice has a more unifying timbre. This waltz song was an excellent way for the diva to exit the recording studio. As if sensing that might be the case, the irrepressible Tetrazzini throws in a superb, ringing high D at the finish.
Meyerbeer: Shadow Song (Act II) (Dinorah) sung in Italian - London, December 1907; America, 1913
Dinorah's semi-mad scene, where she dances and speaks to her shadow, was always a favorite with Tetrazzini and her 1907 disc is one of the best.
Occasionally coy and flirtatious yet always brilliant, her singing here is far superior to the later, 1913 version. Although Amelita Galli-Curci's 1917 recording surpasses Tetrazzini's in vocal velvet, it cannot match hers in playful virtuosity. Typical with recordings made at the time there are many cuts in order to make the aria fit on to a 78 rpm side. The largest, yet most successful, is a huge chunk of 94 measures. It cuts from the echo effects directly into the Allegro con spirito coda. Tetrazzini sings a lovely diminuendo on high A flat and as she holds this note the orchestra re-enters in the tonic D flat. All the echo effects are nicely done (these must have been very difficult to do in the cramped confines of a tiny recording room). Tetrazzini experiences a rare placement problem during "se no ten vai" but all phrasing is well thought-out and despite the rapid tempi, the accuracy of the coloratura is amazing. This is especially apparent during the coda with its fioriture of close intervals.
The concluding cadenza with flute has some superb blending between the two instruments and is one of the most inventive on recordings. There is a charming playfulness between Tetrazzini and the flautist that bears up well to repeated listenings. It is here that Tetrazzini treats the listener to some of her most beautiful fioriture: well-phrased and articulated scales, dainty staccati, and gentle high notes plucked out of nowhere. One phrase, near the end is particularly striking - a rolling trill on high A flat, followed by a volley of high staccati that peak on top E flat. It is here, in this phrase, that one understands the Tetrazzini allure. It is not just the fact that these complicated phrases are attractive for their construction, but also because of the way Tetrazzini phrases and presents them to the listener.
The conclusion of the aria is surprisingly elegant. Tetrazzini offers a finely-rolled trill on high A flat and then ascends to a soft-textured high D flat - all within a single breath.
Her later rendition (America, February, 1913) finds the sonic properties of the recording improved but the vocalism not as scintillating. There is a sense of caution and some odd glottal strokes which suggest that the diva may have been having an off day. The middle and lower registers show growth, however, being fuller and more firm. Coloratura is still fleet, but the echo effects are not as successful as in the earlier disc and staccati have a cutting edge that is occasional brittle. A few new ornaments (mordents and grace notes) make their appearance but overall it is inferior to the previous version.
Meyerbeer: "O beau pays" (Act II) (Les Huguenots) sung in Italian - London, July 1912
It is surprising that Tetrazzini never decided to re-record this aria since this disc does not represent her art at its best. Marguerite de Valois was one of her famous roles and the difficult Act II scena should have been perfect for her gifts. Unfortunately, things did not go quite as expected the day she recorded it. This is actually a very long scena, but for purposes of recording it onto one side of a 78 rpm disc it was mercilessly cut to bare essentials. Even with cuts, time restrictions forced the tempo for the first half to be ridiculously fast, robbing it of any of the dreamy atmosphere the scene calls for. As if sensing the serious time restraints, Tetrazzini rushes through the entire aria - seemingly with little interest, although some individual ornaments do appear. The second half - the cabaletta - is interesting only for the type of embellishments Tetrazzini chooses to exploit in the upper regions of her voice. Even those are variable in pitch and accuracy. A short cadenza appears at the conclusion that takes the soprano to high E in a staccato flight. After a successful lunge to high C#, a final D is fearlessly attacked slightly under pitch. When the orchestra enters in key, and Tetrazzini realizes her error, she does her best to raise it to match the orchestra. The whole thing sounds frantic and under-rehearsed and one wishes she had had another go at it - or had at least had decided to spread it over two sides.
Meyerbeer: Mad Scene (Act III) (L'Etoile du Nord) sung in Italian - London, September 1913
This disc remains one of the most impressive pyrotechnical displays Luisa Tetrazzini has left posterity and her singing is as breathtaking as it is lovely. This aria's main claim to fame is the fact that it is accompanied by not one, but two flutes. The vocal demands of this music are formidable but Tetrazzini bursts through them with a smile and some fine vocal characterization during the central section." Oddly, despite this aria's virtuostic appeal and the grace of Meyerbeer's melodies it has rarely been recorded. Tetrazzini's is one of the earliest recordings of this music and only a handful of other artists have been recorded: Ellen Beach Yaw, Selma Kurz, Joan Sutherland, Janet Price, Sumi Jo and Elisabeth Futral.
Obviously, the day this was recorded (September 26, 1913) the soprano was in superb vocal state since she also recorded the famous aria from Ricci's Crispino e la Comare and both are classic recordings.
Like the 1907 Dinorah, much of what is attractive here is Tetrazzini's loving caress of Meyerbeer's music and her vital rhythmic sense. Tetrazzini's disc includes most of the aria since she elects not to sing (an expected) cadenza with flute at the end.
Of special note is the opening cadenza (with one flute) where her pitch is as sure as her superb vocal-flip technique which she uses to great advantage. All the difficult staccati passages boast round, firm tone and a fine pointing of the peaks of phrases. A short recitative follows in which Tetrazzini indulges in voce bianca. Soon, another flute joins the first and Tetrazzini is intricately weaving her way through the two with figurations of arpeggios and trills of nonchallant abandon.
It is only then, after two and 1/2 minutes of extended cadenzas, that the orchestra joins in. This next section has an appeal which is extremely hard to define. Tetrazzini's manner of tossing-off trills and arpeggiated fioriture is so aurally sumptuous that her caressing of the music is almost sensuous. (This manner of singing is probably what Frieda Hempel was referring to when she spoke of Tetrazzini's voice being erotic.)
The finish is brief but spectacular. After a volley of ascending triplet figurations Tetrazzini executes a series of rapid, perfectly pointed, high A staccati which is immediately followed by a rippling trill and an thrust to a sustained high C# then final D. (As to the sound quality of transfers, the Pearl edition seems to have the finest transfer of this aria: clean, clear and startlingly vivid. EMI sounds curiously boxy.)
Mozart: Der Holle Rache (Act II) (Die Zauberflote) sung in Italian - London, September 1908 (unpublished); America, 1920 (unpublished)
Tetrazzini tried to release a record of this aria twice - 1908 (in the EMI collection) and another in 1920 (on Pearl and Romophone). Neither was considered fit for publication. I am grateful we have the opportunity to hear such inedits but the reasons for them remaining unpublished are not hard to understand. The 1908 disc finds the aria sung down a full step from its written pitch and, despite what one might think, it does not suit Tetrazzini. She makes a good go of it - staccati are clean and some unusual ornaments appear - but overall it has none of the dramatic heft or fire it should - or that one expects from this intense singer. Different from the 1920 recording, there is no interpolated high note at the conclusion of the 1908 disc.
Although The 1920 version is sung 1/2 step higher than the 1908 recording, it finds her voice on the heavy side with only one volley of high staccati from the first section. Triplets even seem curiously labored in this version and Tetrazzini's singing is too athletically "clean" to be effectively dramatic. Her interpolation of a final high note (an old tradition) does little to rescue the piece. No matter the drawbacks, one is still grateful that both these discs were discovered. At least we have the opportunity to hear Tetrazzini's take on one of Mozart's most difficult arias.