Like its companion volume The
Art of Piano, this documentary is a baffling hotchpotch of greatness and
mediocrity, with irrelevant commentary, questionable editing and ridiculous
omissions/inclusions thrown in for good measure. It is difficult to see the
rationale behind it. What is the purpose of this documentary? Since it starts
with Caruso, obviously it doesn’t attempt to tell even briefly the history of
singing; the previous two centuries were quite full of “golden voices” as well.
The major aim, presumably, is to present the best singers since the invention
of recording, especially those who have left some video legacy behind them. In
this respect, the documentary fails almost completely.
Before going further, let me
state clearly that there is a good deal of priceless stuff on this DVD. Every
admirer of the most perfect of all instruments, the human voice, should have it
on their shelves. I purchased it solely because Boris Christoff’s shattering
performance of Boris Godunov’s Death Scene. This alone is worth the price of
admission several times over. Bjoerling and Tebaldi do miracles with the finale
of La Boheme (with better picture and
a slight cut in the beginning compared to the version on Renata
Tebaldi: A Portrait), and I’m saying this as a non-fan of the Swede. Giuseppe
Di Stefano’s “Vesti la giubba” is more beautifully phrased than any other I
have ever heard; Rosa Ponselle’s wildly seductive Carmen makes it clear why
Harold Schonberg himself was in the habit of raving about her voice; Fritz
Wunderlich is just about the finest Tamino you’re likely to find in the history
of recorded opera. Some performances, notably Tito Schipa, Kirsten Flagstad and
Risë Stevens, have rather strange settings, but the singing is glorious enough
to override them.
Now to the negatives. Many
and major these are. It’s hard to decide where to start.
Granted that any such
documentary must by definition be highly selective, the list of unforgivable
omissions in this one is incredible. ''Golden Voices of the Century'' is a vastly
misleading title: nothing newer than the mid-1960s is included. Even if we
assume, not without a good reason perhaps, that newer generations of singers
did not, on the whole, match the quality of the old ones, the situation is
hardly improved. Del Monaco, Bastianini, Merrill, Warren, Siepi, not to mention
many others from older generations (e.g. Ruffo, Stracciari, Lauri Volpi, etc.),
are just a few great voices whom you are not going to hear on this DVD. Many of
them left incredible video material. Would it not have been wonderful to
compare Del Monaco’s incandescent
renditions of “Vesti la giubba” with Di
Stefano’s polished brilliance? Instead, we have Hampson, Rescigno and co.
deliver a lot of pulp in the commentaries. Did I hear wrong, or did Rescigno
really call Di Stefano “anti-musical'”? Such trash should have been omitted
without ceremony.
Many famous names which are included should have been omitted,
or at least represented by better material. Amazing as Caruso was, his silent
movies are pathetic curiosities and nothing more. They don’t sit well with his
audio recordings. When you hear Gigli’s bland “Ombra mai fu” or Pinza’s
atrocious Coronation Scene (from a biopic of Shaliapin), you might legitimately
wonder what the great fuss about these singers was. Other legendary names, such
as Shaliapin and Tibbett, are similarly unimpressive; the former is hampered by
the indifferent music, the latter is physically imposing but vocally
undistinguished Escamillo. Surely these singers must have done much better
elsewhere and if this was not preserved on video, perhaps they should have been
omitted from the documentary, their legendary fame notwithstanding. I have
never understood the widespread reverence for Melchior, but in the 1941
broadcast with Toscanini he delivers a quite decent “Winterstürme”. What we
have here is pure
travesty! Not only is Melchior way past his prime, but he doesn’t take the
piece seriously at all – perhaps inevitable considering his “audience”. This is
topped by Richard Tauber’s impersonation of Schubert at the piano and his sadistically incompetent
rendition of the famous “Ständchen”. I don’t even want to mention the aged,
fat and hideously attired Tetrazzini “singing” over one of her very old
recordings…
Other selections include
fantastic singing but, all the same, they don’t represent the singers to their
best advantage. Corelli’s “Non piangere Liu” is beautifully sung by a great
tenor in his prime, but what really should have been included is his fabulous
rendition of “O tu che in seno agli angeli” from the 1958 La Forza del Destino with Tebaldi, Bastianini and Christoff. Jon
Vickers was a great Florestan, no doubt, but he was an even greater Otello.
Joan Sutherland’s artistry was more than jaw-dropping coloratura and killer
high notes. It would have been better illustrated by “Sempre Libera”, rather
than by Meyerbeer’s trivial
music.
The purely technical quality
and the editing are serious problems, too. Callas' Lisbon Covent Garden (1964) would have been much
better. Six minutes out of 44 is simply not serious. Both excerpts
from Magda Olivero’s Tosca are badly cut. Even the three-minutes-or-so-long
“Vissi d’arte” you don’t hear complete. What a shame! The narrator is also
sometimes intrusive: the climax of Caruso’s “Vesti la giubba” is hardly the
best place for some bio trivia.
Several movies dedicated to
different types of voices (e.g. male and female), without commentaries at all
but with more singers and better selections included, might have made this a
far better documentary. It is still worth having and worth watching – for my
part, Boris’ Boris is enough to treasure the DVD – but it could, and should,
have been done a lot better. As it is now, it represents a bizarre mixture of
glorious moments, embarrassing absurdities and missed opportunities.
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