L'Italiana in Algeri (review)

This 1954 studio recording of L'Italiana in Algeri provided a relatively new experience to the recording audience, and I recall that it was enthusiastically received. Some of that initial enthusiasm merits retention, but subsequent versions have revealed the many abridgments of Giulini's chosen edition that severely compromise Rossini's intentions. Besides, however admirable both Giulietta Simionato and Cesare Valletti were in their principal roles, they were not technically equipped to face Rossini's bravura challenges in the way that the subsequent generations of specialists have been. In this respect, I may cite Marilyn Horne, Teresa Berganza, Jennifer Larmore, and Vivica Genaux as examples, with a reverent nod to Conchita Supervia (1895–1930), the first in the recorded history of great Rossinian mezzos.

The abridgments in the musical text include Lindoro's "Ah, come il cor di giubilo," Haly's "Le femmine d'Italia," and several important recitatives. These arias may have been written by one of Rossini's uncredited collaborators, but they are expert and entertaining pieces, all part of the modern editions authorized by the Fondazione Rossini di Pesaro. The fastidious manner in which Giulini approached the work in 1954—without the benefit of the Fondazione's authenticity, and mindful of the technical limitations of his cast—need not detract from the warmth and precision of his performance. Other conductors may have brought more unbuttoned levity to Rossini's irresistible score, but Giulini's overall approach never fails to respond to the composer's humor, particularly to the madcap spirit of the ensembles.

Theatrically, Simionato is a superb Isabella, full of comic energy and unfailing timing. Her vocal richness invests her lines with rhythmic force and dramatic assurance. Valletti is a thoroughly endearing Lindoro who phrases his music with warmth and aristocratic grace. Mario Petri is a robust and vital Mustaf à whose bulky tone is surprisingly agile for his florid lines; of course, he is spared the bravura perils of the omitted aria "Già l'insolito ardore." The supporting singers are not outstanding but invariably effective and contribute meaningfully to the ensemble. The "Pappataci" trio is hilariously done, with Marcello Cortis as an alert Taddeo supporting Petri's dominant Mustaf à. Graziella Sciutti, with her modest but charming soprano, is not the assertive Elvira she ought to be in the ensembles, but Enrico Campi does his best with the abbreviated role of Haly. The La Scala orchestra is excellent.

Four bonus tracks featuring L'Italiana's lead artists come from a San Francisco concert (18 october 1953) under Gaetano Merola, who was then director of the San Francisco Opera. Simionato brings a lavish tone and sexy allure to Dalila's "Mon coeur," sung in Italian without the promised participation of her Samson (which wasn't Valletti's role anyway). Valletti contributes Werther's "Pourquois me réveiller?" with a solid tone and graceful style, and the two artists are well matched in the passionate finale of Donizetti's La favorita. The program is rounded out with Simionato's "Non so più" from Le nozze di Figaro. The opera's sonics are remarkably clean and clear, the encore pieces much less so but still acceptable.

No recorded L'Italiana known to me offers the overall directorial mastery of Giulini, but the vocal brilliance of Marilyn Horne (who embellishes Isabella's part to her heart's desire but unforgettably), the fluent musicality of Samuel Ramey's Mustaf à, and the outstanding Elvira of Kathleen Battle make the 1980 Erato set a standout among the opera's more recent alternatives.