Vincenzo Bellini (1801-1835)
Norma (1831)
Norma: Maria Callas (soprano); Pollione: Mario Del Monaco (tenor); Adalgisa: Giulietta Simionato (mezzo-soprano); Oroveso: Nicola Zaccaria (bass); Clotilde – Gabriella Carturan (mezzo-soprano); Flavio – Giuseppe Zampieri (tenor)
Orchestra and Chorus of Teatro alla Scala, Milan/Antonino Votto
rec. live 7 December 1955, Teatro alla Scala, Milan
Reviewed as download
Divina Records DVN-17 [154]
Callas was unique. She was never a perfect vocalist, but there’s something captivating about those imperfect singers, whose voices themselves tread that dangerous line between greatness and failure. Which singer with a perfect voice could so successfully intone Norma or Medea’s elemental fury? And yet how great a technique is required to accomplish this! Her voice was not one of refined beauty, and there were plenty of those. But if it did not sing in velvet tones, or tones of gold wrapped in velvet, or of silver in silk, it did sing with glints of ruby, and emerald, and sapphires in starlight. A dark cave with craggy rock faces and pools of black water filled with unimaginable beauties. You need a voice like that to express some things. Not a voice in a pretty dress, but one hooded, cloaked, and robed, smelling of incense and not perfume. We would be infinitely poorer without all of those more perfect voices, their beauty a perfectly apt expression in itself, but sometimes a dive into those black waters is all that can satisfy that primitive part of ourselves which wants to feel without any artifice.
Callas was heavily identified with Bellini’s Norma, and of the various available recordings of her in this most beautiful and demanding of roles, the present performance, recorded live at La Scala in 1955, best encompasses her unique artistry (also issued by Pristine Audio, the version recommended by Ralph Moore in his survey of recordings of Norma). The voice was still intact: excitingly big and capable of tremendous penetration, but also demonstrating a unique, plaintive beauty in those more lyrical sections of the score which Bellini so generously filled with heart-rending melody. Her opening recitative is strong and imposing, the resolve and authority of her interpretation made immediately apparent. Then there is her ‘Casta diva’, intoned without the purity of Sutherland, Ponselle, or Cerquetti, but sung with that unmistakeable timbre which so easily colours itself to suggest the mistletoe and ancient, moonlit groves amongst which Norma delivers her famous prayer. Throughout the performance, that command of colour and her subtle emphasis on the character’s evolving state of mind, is entirely fascinating. When Norma realises that Pollione has betrayed her the voice quickly turns vengeful, digging into that famous, snarling chest voice for maximum effect before cascading through the roulades of ‘No, non tremare, O perfido!’ without any need to lighten her dramatic instrument. In fact, she piles on the resonance, hurls out top Cs like daggers and carries this atmosphere of heightened excitement right through to the end of the act which she caps with a gleaming high D. If anything, it’s a shame that the audience’s ecstatic reaction is cut so short.
Her opening scene in Act 2 is deeply felt, with the slight unsteadiness in her voice at ‘Teneri figli’ only enhancing the dramatic effect. There are infinite colours and shadings here, revealing a carefully studied interpretation which Callas nevertheless makes sound totally natural and unaffected. Her Norma is at once tortured and loving, vengeful and compassionate. Maybe the most affecting moment of the performance comes at her entry in the second act duet ‘Mira, O Norma’ where she intones ‘Ah! Perché, perché la mia costanza’ with such sadness, phrasing with such poignant romance, that you would never think to call this voice anything less than utterly beautiful. Her long final scene is a masterclass in bel canto singing. Opening in gentle reverie, she soon reveals her burning inner fire with a dramatic phrase that climaxes on a startling high C before descending an octave-and-a-half back into that stentorian chest register. Her duet with Del Monaco’s hyper-masculine Pollione is the most compelling argument for Bellini’s dramatic credibility that you will likely hear, gradually building and layering intensity until she reaches ‘Solo! Tutti. I Romani a cento a cento’ where she impressing with more dramatic coloratura fireworks, replete with a treacherous set of ascending trills as she becomes increasingly furious, threatening Adalgisa’s death in fire. The moment at which she sets down her crown and proclaims herself as the guilty one has been much remarked upon. Her drawn out ‘Son io’ seems to span a myriad of emotions in just one note and yet I suspect the effect could have been even greater had the note been more secure. Her singing at ‘Qual cor tradisti’ demonstrates a sterner resolve than some other Normas at this point, and yet she softens beautifully when the chorus enters. Finally, pleading to her father for the safety of her children with devastating pathos, she completes one of the most extraordinary operatic portrayals on record.
The remainder of the cast is also of note, if not quite on Callas’s exalted level. Del Monaco manages the demands of the role of Pollione well, with his typically impressive and bronzed tenor voice, yet there is a lack of true bel canto styling and elegance in his phrasing. Though it is hard to think of anyone since who has sung the role more convincingly, or with more visceral excitement. Giulietta Simionato was a more rounded artist and manages many lovely things. The voice is impressive, with a high C that would be unusually secure for many sopranos, let alone a mezzo. Her coloratura, in comparison to Callas’s faultless fluidity, can sound a little contrived, but it is mostly accurate and she sings expressively, with a creamy tone, blending perfectly with Callas in the duets. Zaccaria as Oroveso has a smaller role and his opening scene is actually sung by Giuseppe Modesti, lifted from another 1955 performance conducted by Tullio Serafin, as the first 15 minutes of this performance were not recorded. Both have good, solid bass voices, though Zaccaria’s more expressive vocal acting provides an added benefit in the opera’s later scenes.
Antonino Votto was a well-respected conductor of Italian opera and conducted at La Scala many times. His studio efforts are sometimes criticised for being too earthbound and lacking the immediacy of some of his more esteemed contemporaries, yet here, and in other live recordings, we find a more than capable conductor with good dramatic instinct. Tempi are expertly judged and the performance is driven when it needs to be but with ample repose given to Bellini’s melodies when they are best left to unfurl in their own time.
Luckily captured in very listenable mono sound, and excellently remastered by the Callas-dedicated label Divina Classics, this is undoubtedly one of the most inspired and important documents of classical singing we have.
Morgan Burroughs
Availability: Divina Records
