|
|
13 of 13 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
In A Class By Himself, May 13, 2001
Franco Corelli, who sang from 1951 to 1975, was the greatest tenore di forza of the postwar era. A powerful and exciting singer, never a subtle, elegant, or refined one, he had his detractors (who called him crude, vulgar, self-indulgent, and who lambasted his execrable French), but there can be no argument about the quality of his voice, a big, vibrant tenor with a thrilling timbre (often described as rich, dark, or baritonal) and a brilliant, secure top that must have been the envy and despair of other tenors. A nervous performer repeatedly subject to pre-performance jitters and anxiety attacks (a wag once said of him that Corelli could always think of more reasons not to sing than to sing), once onstage he was a generous singer who gave fully of himself and, like Caruso, poured out his magnificent voice unstintingly, never holding back. The voice itself was one of the glories of the generously-endowed operatic scene of the Fifties and Sixties, and one of greatest tenor voices of the century. Herbert von Karajan said of Corelli, "A voice of heroic power, yet with great beauty of tone; darkly sensuous, mysteriously melancholic . . . but above all, a voice of thunder and lightning, fire and blood." Harold C. Schonberg, senior music of the New York Times, reviewing Corelli's Metropolitan debut in 1961, noted that his voice "has something of an exciting animal drive about it, and when Mr. Corelli lets loose, he can dominate an ensemble," and later described his voice as "a force of nature, an act of God, the vocal equivalent of an earthquake, volcano or hurricane." The distinguished musicologist Paul Henry Lang writing in the New York Herald-Tribune called Corelli "a latter-day Caruso." Alan Rich of the New York Herald-Tribune wrote of him, "There is no tenor in modern times, Italian or otherwise, whose voice rings out with greater vibrancy, whose every tone carries with it emotion at white heat. The sounds he makes, seemingly without effort, are dazzlingly bright, urgent, and communicative." Since Corelli's retirement we haven't heard anything remotely like him, and those of us who know his voice (and Bjorling's) can perhaps be pardoned for finding the "three tenors" so popular today somewhat anemic in comparison. I have been an admirer of Corelli, a collector of his recordings, and a follower of his career since the 1950s (before he sang in America, when his only recordings were Italian Cetra imports). I have just about everything he recorded. This CD is a fine, representative selection of Corelli's Angel/EMI studio recordings from the 1960s, when he was in his prime, and a good introduction to his singing, including two roles in which he was without a peer: Andrea Chenier and Calaf in Turandot. You will never hear a more thrilling and heroic Improviso from Chenier than the one here. And if you're fond of Nessun dorma, this is one of the great ones. There is no tenor singing today with a voice the equal of this one. Don't miss it.
|