If only we could go back in time and somehow influence the decisions of Walter Legge and Maria Callas. After months of negotiation Legge achieved his goal of signing Callas to EMI and set about a vigorous programme of operatic and recital recordings.

One of the early highlights of this most fruitful working relationship was the August 1953 recording of Puccini's Tosca, which remains to this day one of the classics of the recorded catalogue.

But these were still early days in the relationship, and it seems there was still unfinished business in Italy - namely a contract with Cetra (now a division of Warner Music) to record four complete operas. The first of these, Ponchielli's La Gioconda, was completed on 10 October 1952, three and a half months before Callas made her first opera recordings for EMI. But the second, which featured one of Callas's most-performed roles, that of Violetta Valéry in Verdi's La Traviata, was recorded in Turin in the September following her EMI Tosca.

Happily someone managed to wriggle Maria out of the remaining two Cetra recordings (I've read some speculation as to what these might have been) because the upshot of this was that Callas, in one of her very best roles, only made a single studio recording of La Traviata. The recording was not up to the kind of technical standards one might have expected had EMI and Legge been in charge, and nor, to be honest, was the supporting cast.

But when Legge came to make his own recording of Verdi's opera a couple of years later he passed over the option of Callas in the leading role because she'd already done it for Cetra - even though their recording wasn't available in EMI's main market in the UK at the time. The review in The Gramophone suggests the LP remained an Italian-only issue until 1958, by which time stereo was imminent and sound quality had improved in leaps and bounds.

Yet despite all this, for the critics of the day it was deemed good enough to pay considerably more for the full Callas set. Maria lifted the recording into the artistic stratosphere, and the supported cast were considered adequate enough. Clearly simply to have Callas sing Violetta was worthwhile.

And she never returned to the studio in the role. Other recordings do exist from live performances, but what might EMI have achieved with it, given the opportunity?

Happily we can now begin to tackle many of the shortcomings of the Cetra recording, which could have been so much more complementary to the voices therein. A rather dry acoustic leaves the voices somewhat thin and exposed, and there's a tendency to peak distortion during louder sections. The orchestra sounds boxy and poorly balanced; overall the impression is not great for a recording of this era

But it's not a disaster, and there's much that can be done for it today. Despite having a limited frequency range at the very top end, and some difficulty with distortion and overloading in the treble, an XR re-equalisation goes a long way to ease the cramped feel of the recording and let the orchestra breathe, finally sounding rather more like an orchestra. And the acoustic space of one of the world's finest opera houses gives the singers some room to stretch their vocal chords too, in a space designed to be sympathetic to singers.

As in several previous opera recordings I'm using a convolution reverberation which accurately reproduces the sound of the Sydney Opera House. Unlike many concert halls, the SOH offers a shorter reverberant sound that brings body, wamrth and reinforcement to the voice without swamping it in echo or making the words indistinct.

The end result is, in my opinion, a significant step forward for this Traviata. The orchestra sounds much better than it did, as do some of the supporting singers. But this is of course all about Maria Callas - as much now as it was in 1958 - and she sounds rather good! Take a listen to our MP3 sample, roughly the second half of the first act, and see what you think.


Next week we return to Furtwängler's Wagner Ring with the second instalment, Die Walküre. Both Wagner and Verdi are being celebrated this year for their 200th birthdays - if you're an opera fan you're bound to find something in one or the other of these two superlative recordings! I'm happy to say the Wagner is sounded particularly good in its near-finished state today...






Fanfare Magazine Review

Fiedler (click on the cover for website)

BRAHMS
Symphonies: No. 2; No. 4.
Piano Concerto No. 2.
Academic Festival Overture
Max Fiedler, cond;
Elly Ney (pn);
Berlin PO; Berlin St Op O

PRISTINE 363, mono
(2 CDs: 139:46)



Historically, the present recordings are very important. Max Fiedler, born in 1859, is one of only two conductors who knew Brahms to live to record his music, the other being Felix Weingartner. Recently, Jerry Dubins wrote, "Weingartner may be the definitive Brahms interpreter" (Fanfare 36:2). I shared Dubins's view until I heard Mark Obert-Thorn's new remasterings of Fiedler's performances. From a purely period-performance practice perspective, both Fiedler and Weingartner may not qualify as authentic. Charles Mackerras has shown the viability of renditions by the smallish orchestra Brahms favored, such as Meiningen's, along with vibrato free strings, fluid tempos, divided first and second violins, and a host of other amenities. But even with the Berlin Philharmonic's fruity vibrato in the Second Symphony, Fiedler has a lot to teach us about the authentic Brahms. There is considerable anecdotal evidence that, both as pianist and conductor, Brahms preferred flexible tempos and would linger over particularly expressive passages. According to pianist Fanny Davies, "Brahms's manner of interpretation was free, very elastic and expansive; but the balance was always there." It is in this regard that Fiedler excels Mackerras and even Weingartner. Fiedler reveals expressive ideas through his tempos that are far beyond anything today's conductors attempt. A Fiedler performance of Brahms is filled with emotion to the point of being explosive. Given Brahms's interpretive predilections, we never may have a definitive version of any particular work, but a Fiedler account presents a viable template for how to go about playing this composer.

Fiedler's Academic Festival Overture is a showpiece. It begins decisively, with an underlying rhythm Fiedler returns to following more expansive passages. The orchestral colors are bold and lusty. Gorgeous legato phrasing makes your blood rush as in a Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody. The violins really fly, creating a frisson. Gaudeamus Igitur at the end possesses a pomp and circumstance quality. In the Second Symphony, the introduction to the first movement features rich, shimmering colors. The B portion sounds like a cradle song, with a delicious blend in the strings. Tempo shifts in the development clarify the structure from section to section. The prominent brass have character and bite, while the slow solo horn passage feels like a voice from another world. In the second movement, the strings make a deep, elegiac sound. The winds blend with each other beautifully. Fiedler elicits flexible, sostenuto playing, emphasizing the Non troppo aspect of this Adagio. The third movement is truly Grazioso, with elegant contributions by the first chairs. Wonderfully sonorous pizzicato strings add to the total effect. In the last movement, the orchestra's playing throws off sparks without ever seeming forced. The B section is almost operatic in its emotion. Fiedler's coda is quick yet noble. This is electrifying music-making.

Fielder's Brahms Fourth is the most distinctive of these recordings, truly a watershed moment in Brahms interpretation. The conductor shapes the first theme of the opening movement gorgeously. Fiedler evokes a sea tossed world of turbulence, with the occasional sighting of safe harbors. He lingers over transitional passages, creating fineness of tension and sentiment. Despite the variations in tempo, Fiedler always maintains a subtle pulse. As the slow movement begins, Fiedler introduces a quiet domestic scene with a play of light and shadow. Eventually emotion swells up and colors the scene. The A section returns with passionate tones as in Richard Strauss. A feeling of Renaissance music for viol consort is evoked by the great strings-only passage. The third movement truly is Giocoso, a precursor of Holst's "Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity" and the big tune in the third movement of his friend Vaughan Williams's Pastoral Symphony. Fiedler's phrasing here always is rounded, never using a sharp attack. Fiedler's last movement represents a sensible rendering of Brahms's marking Energico e passionato-not frenetic. Transitions possess a Vermeer like stillness, while the brass choirs are like the rolling clouds in a Constable landscape. The symphony ends with high tragedy: nihilistic, as Karajan called it. Nevertheless, this is a Brahms Fourth that is alive in every bar.

The concerto is by far the least interesting of these recordings. Obert-Thorn relates how pianist Elly Ney (who, incidentally, was a famously enthusiastic supporter of the Nazis) went back into the studio a few months after Fiedler's death and rerecorded most of the first and last movements, with an unnamed conductor ghosting for Fiedler. I must confess that when I first heard this recording on Biddulph some years ago, I was unaware of the ghost. On this new remastering, however, one can hear that the ghost's contribution is superficial, lacking Fiedler's concentration and precision. Ney gives the first movement a big boned, conventional interpretation, lacking tension and littered with mistakes; Ney did not practice much. In the next movement, the bar to bar musical communication-with Fiedler-is much more palpable. The orchestra's fugato episode has nobility, and the rest of the movement following it is passionate. The slow movement features stately and dignified cello playing by Tibor de Machula. Ney has some fine moments, while Fiedler doesn't challenge her tempos or expression. At the start of the last movement, Fiedler offers Ney wise support, but when the ghost takes over things become fairly perfunctory. Throughout the CDs, Obert-Thorn provides honest and listenable transfers. If you are looking for stereo recordings of these works, I would recommend Antal Doráti for the symphonies, Claudio Arrau with Bernard Haitink in the concerto, and for the overture, Leopold Stokowski. Fiedler's purely orchestral studio recordings are a great moment in the history of Brahms interpretation. No matter which performers of Brahms you prefer, I doubt you will hear the composer the same way after listening to Fiedler. He clearly was a remarkable musician.

Dave Saemann

This article originally appeared in Issue 36:5 (May/June 2013) of Fanfare Magazine.