Bellini’s Il pirata
A survey of the major recordings by Ralph Moore

A pdf version of this article can be downloaded for offline reading and printing here.

Bellini’s third opera, Il pirata, was enthusiastically received following its premiere at La Scala in October 1827 and became Bellini’s first international success but it does not have an especially rich discography, having received only four studio recordings. It represents a musical advance in Bellini’s style, in that he moved away from the Rossinian manner of coloratura towards a combination of a more sustained and vehement dramatic effect and inclusion of the long, languid, flowing melodies which became his trademark. Having fallen into desuetude, it was revived in 1935 for Gigli, to mark the centenary anniversary of the composer’s death, and subsequently became a vehicle for star sopranos such as Callas at La Scala in 1958, then Caballé, Aprile Millo, Renée Fleming and Nelly Miricioiu. They feature in various live recordings which are mostly available only as what we once called “pirate” – or “private”? – issues; the seven below are the main options for the general collector. More recent recordings have included musical material traditionally excluded, such as repeats – particularly in ensembles – cadenzas and the Act II finaletto – a three-minute coda which Bellini himself wisely removed for revivals as being anticlimactic; hence the last two recordings from Opera Rara and Prima Classic run to 159 and 180 minutes respectively rather than the 140 or so minutes of their predecessors, while the pioneering Rossi radio broadcast was further cut to just two hours.

Its most famous feature is undoubtedly the concluding Mad Scene, an operatic innovation in itself, heralded by a long cor anglais solo depicting Imogene’s desolation, but it contains much else to delight the ear even if it doesn’t rise to the heights of Norma or I Puritani.

The Recordings

Mario Rossi – 1957 (radio broadcast – mono) Omega Opera Archive; Urania
Orchestra & Chorus – RAI Torino
Imogene – Anna Di Cavalieri (soprano)
Adele – Miti Truccato Pace (mezzo-soprano)
Gualtiero – Mirto Picchi (tenor)
Ernesto – Walter Monachesi (baritone)
Goffredo – Thomas O’Leary (bass)
Itulbo – Tomaso Spataro (tenor)

Recordings of this on CD can be hard to find but I have included it, as it is something of a trailblazer, despite the deep cuts, and it is still available as a download on Presto; you may also hear it complete on YouTube.

The sound is reasonably clean mono – really very listenable if inevitably congested in loud ensemble. Mario Rossi was a Turin regular with a wide operatic repertoire and a secure grasp of style and idiom; he directs a lively, energised performance here with a very engaged chorus and orchestra. The bombastic but effective storm music is somewhat prescient of the opening of Verdi’s Otello. The first soloist we hear is firm, sonorous, American bass Thomas O’Leary as the hermit Goffredo followed by the ringing tenor of Mirto Picchi, who is probably the most compelling reason to hear this recording, even if his stentorian voice occasionally turns tremulous. His delivery of his final aria “Tu vedrai la sventurata” is particularly fine. American soprano Anna de Cavalieri (born Anne McKnight) has a similarly large, rather strenuous and occasionally unsteady soprano of considerable dramatic impact. Tonally, she isn’t very seductive and inclined to shrillness and even wildness, but her commitment cannot be faulted and she, too, rises to deliver an affecting final scene in the famous Mad Scene. The conclusion bears witness to how Bellini’s inspiration and inventiveness reached new heights in this music and she does it justice, encompassing its floated cantilena very satisfactorily – although her execution of the ornamentation in the final passage is less impressive.

The jealous husband baritone doesn’t make an appearance for an almost an hour. Most collectors will recognise Walter Monachesi from his studio recording as Paolo Albiani in Simon Boccanegra with Tito Gobbi; he was a reliable comprimario stalwart rather than a star. He sings neatly with a somewhat nasal, penetrating timbre. Mezzo-soprano Miti Truccato Pace makes a fine, brief contribution in the jolly chorus opening the second act, while Monachesi and Cavalieri make an especially touching job of their despairing duet concluding the third scene of that act.

This would be nobody’s first choice for reasons of the cuts, the limited sound and the fact that good as she is, Cavalieri is eclipsed by Callas and Caballé – but it can certainly be considered as a supplement, especially if you like Picchi.

Nicola Rescigno – 1959 (live; mono) EMI/Warner
Orchestra & Chorus – American Opera Society
Imogene – Maria Callas (soprano)
Adele – Regina Sarfaty (mezzo-soprano)
Gualtiero – Pier Miranda Ferraro (tenor)
Ernesto – Constantino Ego (baritone)
Goffredo – Chester Watson (bass)
Itulbo – Glade Peterson (tenor)

This will be the recording whereby most collectors came to know this music. In my review of the big Callas live box I write “Callas’ supporting cast is ordinary and both the orchestra and chorus of the ‘American Opera Society’ are lusty and unrefined but she is in fine voice, especially as by 1959 frailties were appearing. The haunted, hooded element in her tone as she conveys Imogene’s suffering is peculiarly affecting.”

Certainly she makes more of that final great operatic scene than any other soprano, imbuing it with her own, special affect. The sound itself is clear, sharp mono – a little peaky, similar to the Turin radio broadcast but with a bit of – too often fearfully intrusive and heedless – coughing and less bothersome applause. (The coughing throughout the first ten minutes of the second act is in fact beyond ridiculous.) As I say above, the orchestra and chorus are not first rate – in fact they are a bit crude and “agricultural” – but Rescigno was a good conductor, trusted by Callas in the later stages of her short career, and he keeps it all together, driving at a spritely pace. Collectors will know tenor Pier Miranda Ferraro from his 1959 studio recording of La gioconda with Callas; I describe him in my survey of that opera as “satisfactory but rather plaintive and unvaryingly toned” and nothing about his performance here urges me to alter that verdict but it is a pleasure to hear a big, unfettered tenor sing out in “Nell furor delle tempeste” and as Bellini didn’t make too many demands on Rubini, for whom he wrote the role of Gualtiero, Ferraro copes with the minimal coloratura and absolutely belts the climactic B-flat. He finds some semblance of delicacy and subtlety for his final brief arioso, “Tu vedrai la sventurata” and generally acquits himself well, whacking out a parting top B. Bass Chester Watson, as the hermit, the vibrant if faintly tremulous baritone Constantine Ego and the two comprimarios are all fine, so perhaps my calling Callas’ supporting cast “ordinary” is too harsh, especially given the standards of today. Ego is especially good in the plaintive duet between Ernesto and Imogene when both lament their estrangement, “Ah! lo sento/Ah! lo veggo” and they earn thunderous applause.

Over twenty minutes into the opera, Callas sings her first notes – and it is immediately evident that the voice is huge, if a little shrill and unwieldy; there is no sense of her holding back and the lower register is solid – in many ways she sings everyone else off the stage and the audience go wild for her performance of “Sventurata, anch’io deliro”, slightly perilous top D and all. However, the pièce de résistance is of course her Mad Scene and nobody can touch her for pathos and expression, even if the coughers give no quarter.

Whatever recording of Il pirata you ultimately opt for you will want to hear Callas in that final scene, and there is also the option of the studio recording of it made with the same conductor in the Kingsway Hall in 1958, issued as part of her “Mad Scenes” album, hencefree of the persistent coughing in this Carnegie Hall performance – which is enough to drive some listeners to distraction-  and more poised and inward than the riskier, more dramatic live performance when she sometimes resorts to parlando.

Franco Capuana – 1967 (live; mono) Opera d’Oro; Nuova Era; Memories
Orchestra & Chorus – Maggio Musicale Fiorentino
Imogene – Montserrat Caballé (soprano)
Adele – Flora Rafanelli (mezzo-soprano)
Gualtiero – Flaviano Labò (tenor)
Ernesto – Piero Cappuccilli (baritone)
Goffredo – Ugo Trama (bass)
Itulbo – Giuseppe Baratti (tenor)

This is in such good, immediate, clear sound that it might easily pass for narrow stereo; the Opera d’Oro issue is supposedly mono, whereas the Nuova Era box set boldly claims it to be stereo and for all I know they are right – indeed, I still think it has been somehow “processed” in the remastering to sound much better than it should. The bass is rich and distortion is virtually non-existent and despite being live it is free of extraneous noise, apart from the occasional faint cough and some page-turning, in direct contrast to the maddeningly bronchial Callas performance. Acoustic effects such as the pirates’ “Echo Chorus” which opens Act I, Scene 5, come through very well. Its three principal singers are distinguished and while Caballé and Cappuccilli obviously went on to become major international stars, Flaviano Labò remained overlooked and under-recorded by the big companies, even though he, too, was a major voice and sang at the Met, Covent Garden, La Scala and other big houses. He is probably best known to collectors for his Don Carlo in Santini’s second recording for DG in 1961, which is my first choice for the Italian five-act version in my survey.

Conductor Franco Capuana, too, has a relatively small but distinguished discography but several of those recordings feature among my top recommendations, as he was steeped in the Italianate tradition and here knows exactly how to pace and shape Bellini’s score. His Florentine orchestra and chorus are considerably more sophisticated than their American counterparts for Rescigno. Finally, the supporting cast features some lovely voices in treacly bass Ugo Trama, more-than-competent tenor Baratti and mezzo Rafanelli. In short, everything is in this recording’s favour: sound, cast, orchestra, chorus and conductor.

I love Labò’s big, clean, youthful sound, easy up top and strong on legato, and all his virtues are on display in his opening aria. He is easily the best Gualtiero on record. Caballé is in superb vocal form and makes that clear from her first dominant entrance, absolutely nailing a huge top C and evincing little of the glottal catch or edge which could sometimes invade her tone when she wasn’t in best shape. She handles the coloratura deftly and occasionally resorts to her trademark floated pianissimi, contrasting with the sustained power with which she delivers the more declamatory passages. Cappuccilli is forty years old and in his prime – smooth and long-breathed with free top notes, if not exactly thrilling or biting. His duetting with Caballé and the trio with her and Labò in Act II are paradigms of bel canto singing, all three singers providing an object lesson in how to sustain a long line.

The long final scene is a mini-opera in itself and if Caballé is not quite as theatrically gripping as Callas, she still seduces the ear with the power and beauty of her singing.

This is without weaknesses and as absorbing an account as you will hear.

(The more expensive Opera d’Oro “Grand Tier’ issue provides a libretto with a translation, whereas Nuova Era set has just the Italian libretto.)

Gianandrea Gavazzeni – 1970 (studio; stereo) EMI
Orchestra & Chorus – RAI Roma
Imogene – Montserrat Caballé (soprano)
Adele – Flora Rafanelli (mezzo-soprano)
Gualtiero – Bernabé Marti (tenor)
Ernesto – Piero Cappuccilli (baritone)
Goffredo – Ruggero Raimondi (bass)
Itulbo – Giuseppe Baratti (tenor)

This has four of the same cast as the live 1967 performance in Florence with the major exception of the Gualtiero, here being sung by Caballé’s husband Bernabé Marti. Sadly, that is not to its advantage but having Gavazzeni direct rather than Capuana is immaterial as both were experts in the genre; Gavazzeni is, if anything, even more energised than Capuana. She is once again an admirable Imogene but just a little more matronly and something of a shriek obtrudes in her loudest, highest notes, while he is somewhat strenuous, without Labò’s virile ease or tonal beauty. I have read criticism of the recording as “rather over-bright and edgy” but I cannot say it strikes me thus; I find it to be bright, yes, but just transparent with plenty of bass depth. So let’s be clear: the main advantages here are Caballé again in top form, especially in the final extended scene, fine studio sound, first-rate conducting and excellent orchestral playing and really committed choral singing from the RAI Roma forces – and also a libretto with English translation.

The young Raimondi – never perhaps a true bass – nonetheless opens proceedings with weight and authority. Marti’s hard, rather nasal tenor manages his opening aria well enough but he sometimes turns flat, low notes are weak, he tends to sing at an unremitting forte and the edge and glottal catch to his sound are not ingratiating – indeed, he shared the latter characteristic with his wife and it is not to all tastes. He cannot rival tenors such as Picchi, Labò or Neill in “Tu vedrai la sventurata”. Cappuccilli’s Ernesto is unsurprisingly very similar to the live recording; he is, if anything, rather more animated here.

For me, despite the virtues of this set, the lack of pleasure I derive from the main tenor role here and the fact that the younger Caballé is even better relegate this otherwise fine recording to the second rank in the choices available.

Marcello Viotti – 1994 (studio; digital) Brilliant
Orchestra & Chorus of the Deutsche Oper Berlin
Imogene – Lucia Aliberti (soprano)
Adele – Hermine May (mezzo-soprano)
Gualtiero – Stuart Neill (tenor)
Ernesto – Roberto Frontali (baritone)
Goffredo – Kelly Anderson (bass)
Itulbo – José Guadalupe Reyes (tenor)

(An Italian only libretto can be downloaded from the Brilliant Classics website)

Very good, warm, atmospheric digital sound – this was recorded in the Jesus-Christus- Kirche, Berlin – is immediately apparent and welcome. The conductor is yet another wholly trustworthy exponent of bel canto opera, knowing when to press on and when to relax (despite the paucity of recordings of this opera, they are invariably well conducted). He died prematurely in 2005 from a stroke, aged only fifty. The three principal singers were all at that time bel canto specialists with a lot of Bellini and Donizetti in their respective repertoires. An excellent orchestra and an especially fine chorus complete a promising line-up and it starts off very well.

We first hear the penetrating but somewhat bottled bass-baritone of the American Kelly Anderson then another American, tenor Stuart Neill whose lyric tenor has a pleasant timbre and a good upper extension; he sails up to top Ds in his opening aria and “Per te di vane lagrime” without squeezing too much and he manages the decorative passages well. He is the best exponent of Gualtiero after Labò and in some ways even superior to him, as he is the only tenor to dare to tackle successfully those stratospheric high notes. His duets with Imogene are touchingly sung and the Italian diction of both is especially pellucid. He delivers some more thrilling high notes in the duet “Per noi tranquillo” and copes admirably with the highly decorated cabaletta “Ma non fia sempre odiata”.

Lucia Aliberti’s soprano is closer in character to Callas’ than Caballé’s without quite the histrionic or vocal distinction of either but she sings feelingly; the coloratura is impressively despatched. Her voice often gently pulses in a manner reminiscent of Katia Ricciarelli and her attempt at conquering a top D to conclude “Sventurata, anch’io deliro (CD1, track 12) is most ill-advised; top notes are sometimes weak. (Classics Today described her performance as one of “great mediocrity” which is, I think, unduly harsh and unfair.) She is vulnerable, plaintive and affecting in her duets with Gualtiero and Ernesto and perhaps too often defaults to a rather “droopy” manner when a more declamatory affect is required but she manages the finale movingly, using a Callas-like “hooded” tone and negotiating the intricate fioriture adeptly.

As Ernesto, Roberto Frontali sings with more bite in his tone than any other baritone in this role and I like his slightly fast vibrato; the penetration and menace of his voice remind me of Sergei Leiferkus. He has agility without aspirating, too; I think I even prefer him to the noble but placid Cappuccilli.

All in all, even allowing for Aliberti’s frailty up top when her voice thins out and pulses, she often turns that into a virtue, going for delicacy and nuance over power, so I find this to be still a very satisfying account and I think in some quarters it has been undervalued.

David Parry – 2010 (studio; digital) Opera Rara
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Geoffrey Mitchell Choir
Imogene – Carmen Giannattasio (soprano)
Adele – Victoria Simmonds (mezzo-soprao)
Gualtiero – José Bros (tenor)
Ernesto – Ludovic Tézier (baritone)
Goffredo – Brindley Sherratt (bass)
Itulbo – Mark Le Brocq (tenor)

Despite nominating it as a “Recording of the Month”, the late esteemed fellow-reviewer and my friend Bob Farr was ultimately rather disappointed by this, only the third commercial recording of Bellini’s third opera. While accounting it “valuable”, he regretted that “it doesn’t attain greatness”, and he opines that its main weakness lies in the solo singing (review).

As ever with Opera Rara, the presentation, booklet, engineering, orchestral playing and conducting and scholarship are beyond reproach – unless you question that desirability of restoring cuts, such as the concluding coda. To have no less than then the LPO and the Geoffrey Mitchell Choir can only be bonuses; the question mark, as ever in modern times and as Bob says, is over the soloists. I never tire of observing how few conductors and producers seem to have a proper understanding of what good singing consists of. Let’s start with bass Brindley Sherratt, the first solo voice we hear and a voice I often admire: here, he sounds hoarse and constricted, quite unable to produce any pharyngeal ring in music which apparently lies too high for him. He sounds off-form throughout. I would also say that the storm music sounds far too comfortable and undramatic, despite the prominence of the percussion; Gavazzeni, for example, gives it far more welly. José Bros has a small, white nasal tenor of no distinction, devoid of lower register heft and he eschews the high notes. Carmen Giannattasio has a large, edgy voice with far too much screech in her tone and a wobble on loud, high notes, to boot. I cannot understand the adulation and awards she has attracted. It is true that she manages coloratura competently but her lower register is undeveloped. “Col sorriso d’innocenza” is lumpy, her voice disappears when she dips lower than her middle register and top notes are unpleasant; her voice affords my ears little pleasure. Ludovic Tézier as Ernesto is the most rewarding singer here but the basic quality of his voice is nothing special and his top notes lack glamour.

I cannot endorse a recording which lacks singers of sufficient distinction.

Fabricio Maria Carminati – 2020 (studio; digital) Prima Classic
Orchestra del Teatro Massimo Bellini di Catania
Coro del Teatro Massimo Bellini di Catania
Imogene – Marina Rebeka (soprano)
Adele – Sonia Fortunato (mezzo-soprano)
Gualtiero – Javier Camarena (tenor)
Ernesto – Franco Vassallo (baritone)
Goffredo – Antonio Di Matteo (bass)
Itulbo – Gustavo De Gennaro (tenor)

This most recent studio recording of Il Pirata on the soprano’s own label presents it in its uncut version, including all the repetitions, original cadenzas and variations written by the singers themselves, as well as the rarely performed finaletto Bellini discarded.

The sound is very full and forward – if anything a bit bass-heavy with over-resonant double basses, but far preferable to the “boxy” or “tinny” quality of earlier recordings. Carminati, conducting Bellini’s hometown ensemble, could hardly be more idiomatic and driven and the chorus is red-blooded; everyone sounds very much at home in the more robust style Bellini was trying to embrace. Of all the recordings here, this is the one which is most prescient of Verdi; we are far from the restrained elegance of bel canto specialism.

The first solo voice we hear is Antonio Di Matteo’s rather strange, powerful but muffled, swallowed and very nasal bass; it is a blot. Javier Camarena has clarity of projection and he sings the top Ds; I find him far preferable to José Bros but as so often is the case with singers like him of the Juan Diego Flórez school, his voice lacks the requisite, dark, virile timbre of a truly properly registered tenor and low notes drop out. I wish I liked his rather whining, even effeminate, timbre more.

Baritone Franco Vassallo often sounds very similar to Piero Cappuccilli without quite his tonal lustre – which is no mean recommendation. He is firm and expressive but some low notes are a little weak and ill-tuned.

I have in the past found Marina Rebeka to be an oddly anonymous singer but here I am immediately drawn to the vibrancy and warmth of her soprano, even if occasionally her voice turns shrill in the highest passages; her diction is better than I have previously heard and she is clearly both deeply involved in the role and in command of its technical demands, impressive in the coloratura divisions and capable of plunging into a very serviceable lower register. She is in many ways the most complete singer of the role of Imogene, without the blemishes in the voices of Callas and Caballé but also perhaps without their personality. The only problem is one of balance in that she sometimes comes over as over-dominant in duets and trios; hence the lovely “Ah! lo veggo/lo sento” duet with Ernesto could be more tender. She is highly dramatic in the final scene; her vocal control of the pyrotechnics is impressive and I do like the way she again deploys her lower register. The restored finale strikes me as superfluous but you can always cut it.

This is superior in every respect to the other modern option from Opera Rara and you might opt for it as a first choice, especially if you like Camarena more than I.

Recommendations

Obviously with only four studio recordings to choose from there isn’t the embarrass de richesse we associate with Norma or I Puritani, nor is this anywhere as great an opera as those two, but it has held a tenuous place in the repertoire, has been accorded attention by some great singers and contains much to enjoy. There is only one option to hear Callas, maddening coughs and all, unless you settle for just the last long scene in the recital album – but hear her, you must. On the other hand, there are several live recordings and one studio recording featuring her nearest rival, Caballé – and there is good reason for preferring her live 1967 performance in Florence, where she is considerably better partnered than in the EMI studio recording and the sound is hardly inferior. None of the four subsequent studio recordings has quite the same all-round strength of casting but the Viotti comes close. The last two have the virtue of greater completeness but the Carminati recording has the best Imogene since Caballé and a cast noticeably superior to the Opera Rara issue. If pushed to select a modern stereo recording over the live Capuana performance, I am torn between Viotti and Carminati; Rebeka is better than Aliberti but I prefer Stuart Neill to Camarena; the baritones are both good. Another practical factor is that there is a big price discrepancy: the Brilliant issue is cheap; the Prima Classic is expensive, on three discs. I suggest you sample and choose or go with your budget.

Live mono: Capuana 1967*
Studio stereo/digital: Viotti 1994/Carminati 2020
*First choice

8 thoughts on “Bellini’s Il pirata – a survey of the recordings

  1. HI Ralph – I tried and tried and tried to listen to Marti – but it just didn’t want to work. And I believe your description of Carmen Giannattasio being lumpy is why I didn’t like that recording either. I have just downloaded the first recommendation.

    And I first got to hear Callas in the mad scene in the live recording from Amsterdam – if there is ONE Callas concert I would have love to attend, it is that one!

    Thanks for the surveys, they are handy and entertaining.

  2. Like many others I came to know this score via the Gavazzeni recording, and the excerpts recorded by Callas on EMI. I haven’t summoned up the iron will yet to attempt her live recording. Will delve deeper into the recommendations. Thanks as always Ralph, another fine survey to add to your great series!

  3. Thanks, both, for your comments and appreciation. Of course, Callas also sang that Mad Scene in the 1959 Hamburg concert, so there’s another way to hear her do it.

  4. Great to see another survey, thanks! Regarding the EMI recording with libretto and translation (always good to know when those are present) – is this in the “white box” series of midprice issues, most of which had a libretto and translation? thanks!
    Ron

  5. Yes – that’s it, Ronald (I do mention the “libretto with English translation” in the review). Glad you enjoy the survey. I keep thinking I have run out but then something occurs…

  6. Montserrat Caballé pretty much rules as Imogene but your survey made me listen to the Viotti set with Aliberti, Neill which I hadn’t in a very long time and it was a very pleasant rediscovery. Cheers !

  7. Just shows how little I know. I’ve always like Marti and thought he was underrated. His Zarzuela duets with Caballe and his opera duets with Caballe and Mackerras are two of my favourite CDs. His tragedy was first, that he was married to a famous soprano, and second, he was born 30 years too early; were he singing today, he would be considered a top tenor, if not THE top tenor. Compared to the likes of Kaufmann, for example, he is in another league. I don’t hear what you hear which, I suppose, is what makes music interesting. Interesting also that Callas gets mentioned here in the letters; that’s a voice with grievous shortcomings that gives me much less pleasure than Marti. Call me crazy.

  8. Terence, it may well be that zarzuela suited Marti’s gifts much better than bel canto and as for Callas, there will always be a considerable minority of folk such as you who don’t enjoy her, so no, I won’t call you crazy, just regret that you cannot share my delight in her… Perhaps, like Michel, you’d enjoy Aliberti more?

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