La forza del destino (review)

Forget the old-fashioned painted sets, the primitive mise-en-scène ("OK, everybody onstage to form four straight lines across the stage for the 'Rataplan!'"), the less than glorious orchestral performance, the superannuated chorus. Ultimately nothing matters except the singing of the principals, legendary figures who together created a Forza del destino for the ages at Naples's Teatro San Carlo in 1958. To hear them in their prime is to appreciate a grandeur of opera performance in Italy that now seems ancient history. This is seemingly the last gasp of an era in which audiences attended opera for voice, voice, and voice.

One is repeatedly gratified to realize that each of the six leading singers possesses an instrument of the proper scale for his or her role. This degree of vocal opulence in one Verdi cast has probably not been duplicated in the past four decades. One rejoices in the beauty, tonal depth, and authoritative phrasing offered by each artist. The dramatic presentation may be very much of its time, but the personalities that come across onscreen are vivid. We have very few live performances of any of these artists on video, which makes this Forza all the more cherishable.

Vocally speaking, here is a performance to let the listener understand anew what Renata Tebaldi's artistry was about. Listen to her in the Monastery scena: when was the last time you heard a Verdi soprano take those vast arches of "Deh! non m'abbandonar" with such ease? And when did you last hear such a pungent middle register from an Italian soprano? It's there just when she needs it most, e.g., "Se voi scacciate" and the middle section of "Pace, pace." Everything is not perfect: the famous pianissimi are still there but not with the nonchalant ease of the early 1950s, and there is occasional hardness on high. Still, when things are going smoothly, which is most of the time, the solidity, richness, breadth of sound, and unaffected musicality are deeply satisfying. The listener can also amply appreciate an aspect of Tebaldi's singing for which she is not given sufficient credit: the absolute clarity and directness of her textual delivery. One could take dictation in virtually every phrase of the role. Tebaldi's acting is sincere at best, glacial and excessively grand at worst, but she is never less than dignified, even in unconvincing male disguise. The conviction of her singing is sufficient to bring Leonora to life.

In an exclusive interview that follows this performance, the soprano—facially quite aged but coiffed and attired in true diva style (complete with large feather boa)—discusses her association with Forza, a work that clearly brought her great satisfaction. Her recollections include her 1953 role debut under "il grande Maestro Mitropoulos" and Leonard Warren's death during a Met Forza in which she sang Leonora. She remains profoundly saddened by the memory of it, more than forty years later.

Opposite Tebaldi is Franco Corelli in rare form, a little less than two years prior to his sensational Metropolitan Opera debut. There being no studio recording of Corelli in this role, one can savor his portrayal all the more. He is not always in good "sync" with his conductor, but perhaps this is to be expected; he was always a nervous performer, and Tebaldi, in the interview newly recorded for this release, recalls that the Naples performances were Corelli's first Don Alvaros. Still, the effortlessness of the singing has had no parallel among his successors; time...