Customer Reviews

Cherubini: Medea

5 star:		(4)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

This 1961 performance is a great surprise to me. By 1961 Maria Callas' vocal problems (as well as her relationship with Aristotle Onasis) were fodder for gossip columns all over the world. Her operatic appearances were becoming rarer and rarer and every Callas performance by then had an almost circus-like atmosphere about it. This "Medea" finds Callas in her last La Scala season, and though the later performances of this Medea series in May of 1962 found her in very serious vocal difficulty, the premiere performance recorded here finds her very much at the top of her form. Well, admittedly, the climatic top notes do tend to waver, but never alarmingly so. But the voice as a whole is rock solid, powerful ----- and the fabled chest tones are as menacing as ever. Whether venemous, tormented or triumphant, Callas rises to every dramatic challenge masterfully. After listening to any Callas Medea performance, one does not have to wonder why the opera is not performed today ---- who could even hope to attempt such an Amazonian role? The supporting cast heard here at La Scala may constitute the greatest ever encountered in any Callas Medea performance.As Neris, the faithful maid, the great Italian mezzo soprano Gulietta Simionato makes the most of her role, most notably her beautiful aria in Act II (though it must be said that as good as she is, she is no better than Teresa Berganza and Fedora Barbieri ---- who partnered Callas in previous Medea performances). Jon Vickers IS the greatest Jason of any Callas Medea. Vickers was probably the only tenor capable of meeting Callas on her own musical and dramatic plane --- and he is heard here at the very beginning of his international career. The same might also be said about Nicolai Ghiaurov, who was also at the dawn of what was to be one of the most important careers in opera. Thomas Schippers may not pace this opera with the sheer animal intensity of Leonard Bernstein (at La Scala in 1953) or Nicola Rescigno (in Dallas in 1958), but he generates an excitement that is substantial enough. The sound of this recording is, to my ears, superior to both the 1953 La Scala and 1958 Dallas live recordings. The price is incredibly cheap ----- and Callas proves that, even in 1961, she still had the capacity to wrench more out of this opera than anyone else. A real bargain!

Although some Opera D'Oro releases suffer from over-filtering/noise-reduction techniques, this is not one of them. The sound is clear and undoctored. Moreover the speed seems to be accurate. One had always read that in this, her final series of Medeas (and her last appearances at La Scala), Callas was in sadly diminished vocal form. Not so. True, the highest notes flap about alarmingly, but the middle register is rock-solid and the chest tones are full and without the dessicated quality of her later years. And the remaining cast members are superb!

Source: Live performance recorded on December 14, 1961 at the Teatro alla Scala in Milan.

Sound: Not bad by the standards of live recordings from the 1960s. The voices are generally well-caught, although there is noticeable variation as they move from place to place on the stage. At one point in Act I, while Callas is singing, some backstage bonehead chooses to indulge in a longish monologue. The chorus and orchestra sound all right, but in a more limited and boxy way then customary in digital-era recordings.

The La Scala audience was more disciplined than has sometimes been the case. For the most part, they applauded only at the appropriate places. Quite obviously, they were bowled over by the glorious presence of La Divina. Medea first appears midway through Act I. The recording nicely captures what it is to be in the presence of a true star. When some members of the audience caught sight of Callas, they broke into spontaneous applause while others hissed out sharp shushing sounds, demanding silence.

Cast: Medea (soprano) - Maria Callas; Jason (tenor) - Jon Vickers; Creon (bass) - Nicolai Ghiaurov; Neris (mezzo-soprano) - Giulietta Simionato; Glauce (soprano) - Ivan [sic] Tosini; Captain of the Guards - Alfredo Giacomotti; Maidservants - Edith Martelli and Limbania Leoni. Conductor: Thomas Schippers with the Chorus and Orchestra of the Teatro alla Scala, Milan.

Text: This is an effective performing text that omits passages that are of interest to the purists and completests who hold every written note sacrosanct and are indifferent both to the second thoughts of composers and to the practical insights of people who actually work each day in the theater.

Documentation: The usual anemic Od'O package. No libretto. A couple of hundred words on the composer and opera. The same in summary of the plot by Act. Track list that fails to identify who is singing or to provide timings.

"Medea" premiered as "Medee" (curses on the Amazon system for not leting me use the proper forms of the letters) in Paris in 1797. It is based on Greek tragedy as interpreted in a 1635 play by Pierre Corneille. The composer, Luigi Cherubini (1760-1842), lived long enough to see his time come and then go. Cherubini arrived in Paris during the heady days of the French Revolution. He became the musical darling of the revolutionaries by grinding out operas in what might be called the French Republican Realist style, providing much the same sort of thing that Shostakovich and Prokofiev provided to Stalin's revolution. By 1797, revolutionary fervor had subsided and a taste for neo-Classicism had emerged, hence this re-entry of Greek legend into French opera.

"Medee" was written in typical French fashion with spoken dialogue connecting the musical passages. It was not until 1855, long after Cherubini's death, that lesser hands converted the dialogue into sung recitatives. The 1855 version of "Médée" was translated into Italian as "Medea," finally to achieve the success that had eluded it among the French.

Beethoven was an admirer of the opera. The extent of that admiration may be measured by comparing the first half hour of "Medea" with his "Fidelio." It can hardly be doubted that Beethoven, who was not instinctively a man of the theater, used the form and musical idiom of "Medee" as a template for his only opera.

All too often, Callas' live recordings fail to achieve the heights by reason of leaden performances from second- and third-rate supporting singers. That is not the case here. La Scala clearly pulled out all the stops to provide a festival-quality cast.

This recording presents Maria Callas in the latter days of her stage career. She takes the stage at La Scala in one of her greatest roles. It is obvious to anyone who hears this performance that her top notes are not what they had been only a few years earlier. It is equally obvious that throughout most of her range, she continued to be one of the greatest singers and dramatic interpreters of all time. Despite bobbles here and there, La Divina's final recorded assumption of the role of Medea is a magnificent and searing portrait.

Each of the three other principal singers, Vickers, Simionato and Ghiaurov, is brilliant in his or her own way.

Thomas Schippers conducts in a workmanlike and, I suppose, sometimes insightful way. His work strikes me as solid rather than brilliant.

Every serious fan of opera should have a recording of Maria Callas singing Medea. This one, though late, is inexpensive and probably the best all-around version.

Five stars.

The Best Cherubini and the best voices. Vickers and his vocal power and elegance and Callas here like always-the Diva.

The opera is a very interesting and rarely performed work. However, I purchased it ONLY because the conductor is Thomas Schippers. It is a "live" recording done at La Scala in 1961 and therefore the quality leaves much to be desired as far as the orchestra is concerned. Of course, Maestro Schippers was able to redeem nearly any orchestra he conducted! For those who are Callas fans, her performance is, as usual, exceptional. I would recommend it for its historic value and valid interpretation.

I have returned to this recoding after many years of first listening to it; my main reason this time was to hear a connection to Beethoven's Fidelio. Beethoven held Cherubini in a very high esteem, and this particular opera, Medea, explains why. First of all, we should remember that it was premiered on 13 May 1787 in Theatre Feydeau in Paris - eight years before Beethoven's Fidelio! Then the second version of Medea was premiered on 6 November in 1802 in Karntnerton Theater in Vienna; perhaps Beethoven had heard it then.

From the very beginning the music strikes; the overture's format, content and style are perfect, and should have impressed Beethoven. He also borrowed the ideas for his Fidelio's choruses from this opera. But what is truly amazing to rediscover is that not only Beethoven, but apparently Bellini was heavily influenced by Medea for his Norma, and in a few places one can hear Donizetti's Lucia's music.

Dramatically, this is a tremendous work of art; the plot is derived from Euripides - so the story is completely in Ancient Greek style - fierce, noble, cruel, tragic. This is a rare chance in operatic history to be remembered that Ancient Greeks did not share much of modern morals; and that such an ancient thing as honor was crucially important to them, together with the most brutal revenge for betrayal - especially if a simple mortal would offend a higher being - in this case, a priestess, a demi-goddess, as Medea was a priestess of Hecate.

The story is all the more valuable as it narrates of times before the Trojan war, and therefore Ulisse, Electra and other well-familiar legendary personalities. We can clearly see that the ancients quite respected powerful women - after the bloody vendetta, historic Medea does not suffer from any retribution, like Orestes, for example - she returns to her motherland and lives quite happily. Perhaps it is this exact morale of the story that repels its more frequent modern revivals - the contemporary audience much prefers meek and weak female victims to male cruelty - their operatic numbers are legion, especially in the 19th century opera, the century of the bourgeois triumphant rise - Gilda, Traviata, Senta, Madame Butterfly, etc. The woman must die if betrayed by a man, says the 19th century moralist. Not necessarily so, answers Euripides. Yet how more preferable is to see the image of Medea than that of Chio-Chio-San!

Now, about this particular performance. It is simply ASTONISHING. First of all, a listener is struck with Callas' extraordinary top form, her genius mastery and uniquely beautiful voice. It is 1961, supposedly an age when she had vocal problems, but in this recording she sounds probably as one of her best ever! Not only her singing is technically excellent, it is ten-fold overwhelmed by her interpretation of Medea - only she could convey that special feeling of someone who never abased herself in front of anyone, yet now begs for Jason's pity and love - in her great aria "Dei tuoi figli la madre tu vedi". The pain and anguish of a proud heart bent to imploring is so vividly felt, and the absolute genius of her as an actress, a singer, an artist leaves one gaping with awe.

Then how she changes into a brooding lamenting woman, a dangerous sorceress, a mother torn by love and hatred, and finally, a victorious fury. Maria Callas was truly born for this role - I can't imagine anyone who could deliver to us a better performance, a better understanding and treatment of the role and the music.

Other discoveries include Jon Vickers - another reviewer mentioned that Vickers was at the beginning of his international career here - indeed he was 35 years old here, and it is the most beautiful sound of his voice here - normally I know him by somewhat cracked voice without any thrill. But here it is a different story! Although the part seems to be so fitting to him, a heldentenor, since it is almost baritone. (Just a note about this type of voice - a heldentenor is a rich, dark, powerful and dramatic voice. As its name implies, the Heldentenor (English: heroic tenor) vocal fach features in the German romantic operatic repertoire. The Heldentenor is the German equivalent of the tenore drammatico, however with a more baritonal quality). Jon Vickers is a very believable Jason; his part somewhat reminds of Henry Purcell's Aeneas in character; the scene between him and Medea is also reminiscent of the final duet between Dido and Aeneas, where Dido repudiates the unfaithful lover. Here, however, the music and the dialog are much more dramatic - "Medea col suo fuggir il cor strappera! Crudel!". How much destruction anything Gold seems to harbor - Golden Fleece, Rhinegold...

Nicolai Ghiaurov sounds as great as always, a powerful bass-baritone with the most beautiful thrill. He is such a great singers as well that I will not even comment further on his mastery here; he is an outstanding Creon .

Giulietta Simionato, another superb singer who appears here as a devoted and caring nurse and Medea's servant Neris. She colors her voice accordingly, it is full of obedient devotion of a trusted nurse, only reconfirming her exceptional gifts as a singer and actress again.

Lastly, the quality of the recording itself is very good; normally Opera d'Oro releases are full of noise, but this is an exception. The materials are Spartan, however - as usual for this brand.

The opera finishes with Medea appearing with the dagger in her hands reminds so of Lucia; and when Medea flies away, the words of another goddess come to mind: "Above measure is the pleasure that my revenge supplies"; only that Juno revenged against poor Semele, not the true offender - while Medea is not frightened by any man.

This performance is a Golden Fleece of Opera; get it if you can.

I have all the recorded performances of Maria Callas as Medea: Florence 1953, La Scala 1953, the 1957 EMI recording, Dallas 1958, Covent Garden 1959, and this final 1961 version.
I must admit this 1961 Scala live recording is the worst by far. Her voice still possesses some volume but the vibrato is monumental, the high notes flap out of control and sometimes the tonality is completely lost (what the French call "la voix bouge"). She frequently resorts to exaggerated chest notes. The breath control is short. Of course her phrasing and dramatic inflection are always impeccable but the vocal deficiencies make for uneasy listening. Vickers is very good as Jason, Thomas Schippers' conducting and choice of score cuts is erratic. The evening's vocal honours go to Giulietta Simionato who is simply magnificent as Neris and who delivers an unforgettable rendition of the sublime aria "Solo un pianto".
To hear Maria at her pristine best as Medea one must absolutely refer to the live 1953 Scala recording, conducted by Leonard Bernstein. Her performance here is superhuman, the voice fearless. One can understand the price she paid by listening to the 1961 recording back-to-back. Gino Penno is excellent as Jason, and Fedora Barbieri equally magisterial as Neris. Bernstein brings immediate, fiery passion to the Scala orchestra.

By 1961, Callas' voice was well beyond its zenith. Nevertheless, the musicality and drama she brings to this particular role have never been equaled. One should listen to earlier recorded performances of Callas as MEDEA (especially at La Scala in December 1953 with Bernstein conducting) for the real effect. However, this series of 1961-2 MEDEAs was Callas' last appearance in the role and at La Scala, so it is of historical significance. As indicated, Callas' voice is here unsteady and opaque. The rest of the cast is excellent, and Schippers conducts with a certain flair, given that this version is, as always, only about 60% Cherubini, with anachronistic recitatives by Franz Lachner added in the 1850s to replace the original spoken dialog, and many cuts of the original 1797 music; the edition Callas and her conductors used were always a mess. The problem with every published version of this recording is that it starts roughly at correct pitch and imperceptibly drops for the first forty minutes, so that by the time Callas enters, it is a big semi-tone flat for the rest of the opera, making an already wobbly Callas sound even worse. This is true of the original tape: apparently whoever recorded it off the air had a tape recorder that sped up as it warmed up, so played on accurate equipment, it gets very flat. That no one has noticed this from the time of its first official LP issuance on Fonit-Cetra--from which all others (Hunt, Opera d'Oro, Ombra, Myto etc.) are derived, is astounding beyond words, and makes for a useless distortion of an important document.