Fairly deep into the Met's season and I am contemplating the same thing I do every year: why do audiences so readily accept performance inadequacies in singers they would condemn in any other musical 'instrument'? I have no answer--more than once I have found myself sitting there lock-jawed in disbelief at some yelps coming from the stage (or screen) while everyone around me screams in ecstasy. I could list a book's worth of reasons to support my 'judgement' but such an act proves nothing and just makes me seem like a dickhead. So I've decided to go the opposite directions: performers and / or performances that should make me cover my ears or grit my teeth, but which I have a fondness for (or a time or two, a love for) and think of them with wonderful satisfaction--or listen to them again and again.
Katia Ricciarelli would be no one's idea of a singer with flawless technique. She had a noticeable wobble when she tried to sing loudly in the upper reaches, she pushed her tone into shrillness, she 'faked' her way through roles she had no business singing or recording, her diction was merely acceptable at best. She was not a natural on the stage--not stiff, but hardly anyone's idea of a wonderful actress. But... She tried to sing with emotion. Rarely did she just sing notes. She understood the power of legato in Italian music of the 19th Century. When she was 'faking' it, she offered something characterful in place of the actual 'requirements' asked by the composer. And her voice could express sadness, melancholy, happiness, love. She could make you forgive her faults if you could appreciate what she had to give. Unashamed, I love her Un Ballo in Maschera with Placido Domingo. I can't imagine anyone would think this is the best Ballo ever recorded. Her faults are in evidence (but not as strongly as in some recordings) but so are her strengths. Her character is scared, emotionally divided, eventually heartbroken. Somehow, the vocal 'faults' add sympathy to this woman's plight rather than take away from it. And she has some lovely singing in it. It helps that Domingo is singing one of his greatest roles. I have several recordings of her which I enjoy. I even have a special fondness for what has to be the worst recording she ever made: Turandot. She is obviously waaaaaay over her head. She sounds strained. Worst, she sounds like she won't make it to the end. But Turandot suddenly becomes a young woman at her wit's end. She is desperately horrified but all the murder yet frightened by the opposite possibility. She has only a few lovely moments without strain or wobble, but for some reason, I find her take on the character--usually portrayed as a somewhat one-dimensional 'ice queen' thawed by true love--as something deeply human. Truthfully, the inadequacies are myriad. But despite all the problems, I still return to it. The recordings that are this vocally problematic that I hear multiple times can be counted on my two hands, with fingers left over, so this is an aberration for me. Still, I enjoy it.
Josephine Barstow has sung many of the same roles as Ricciarelli, but far less recorded (though I have some radio performances.) She is the opposite of her Italian counterpoint: she is a great vocal actress. Nothing she sings is just 'sung'. She has colors, inflections, dynamics, 'emotions' that very few singers can manage. Her Ballo is one-of-a-kind: no one has sung it with this much variety, save Maria Callas. But like Callas, she has an peculiar basic tone (yes, Callas had an odd tone, live with it) and can put too much pressure on the voice so it can turn a bit shrill or wobble freely. But listen to her third act aria. The whole rang of what the woman is saying is there in the singing. She is partnered with Domingo as well. Maybe he has something to do with bringing out the best in his sopranos. She has also sung 20th Century music--some important premieres, some important composers,some important recordings--and this is where she shines the most. She premiered one of the strangest characters in all opera: Denise in The Knot Garden. She is an angry, physically deformed, vengeful victim of torture. The music is extreme at times. But what a fascinating individual, and how well a young Barstow sings it! Once heard, it is hard to forget, especially her grand scena where she interrupts the action to rail against (the loss of ) humanity. And at the opposite end of her career, she sang and recorded Elizabeth I in Benjamin Britten's Gloriana. Again, a woman with infinite variety. Barstow does it justice. Her heartbreak is ours. Magnificent. Vocally perfect? Hardly. Unforgettable? Absolutely.
And to end, one of the most polarizing singers, well, ever: Peter Pears. He is no conventional Romantic tenor. His tone lacks the dark tones expected of the heroic Italian tradition. And he does not express youthful, love-sick, innocent feelings well. And odd tone is an understatement. No one sounds like him. And as almost any opera lover knows, he was the life partner of Benjamin Britten, who wrote great piece after great piece with Pears' particular strengths in his ears. And some (frankly, far too many) opera lovers dismiss him because of this, but I think they miss the artistry, the point of his singing. Britten (and others like Michael Tippett, William Walton, and Hans Werner Henze) would not have written for him if he were a sub-par singer. He is anything but. His technique is rock solid. He has no pitch problems, no great strain, no wobble. He is quite expressive, if not in the Italian tradition. AND NO ONE MATCHES HIS PETER GRIMES!!!!! I emphasize this because for many years, people have named one singer after another who are (supposedly) superior in their interpretations. Bullshit. Jon Vickers has much to offer, true, but he is no closet poet, which is a great part of Grimes' downfall. He tries, but is somewhat unconvincing in those scenes, too much the wild fisherman. He sounds (and looks) like he wouldn't need a helper to fish. So the ambiguity built into the role is lacking something, including the final scene (and what a great scene it is.) Pears finds ever nuance. And not just on record. His video, made late in life, is illuminating. Compare it to Vickers', (who has vocal problems galore, by the way.) The details show how perfect Pears was in the role. Vickers is merely good. And all the way through until the final great role, Aschenbach in Death In Venice. I don't give a damn if his tone isn't 'tradtional'. This is great singing, even in just aural form. Wow. What a marvelous work! And Pears' only real competition is Philip Langridge, a singer who has also a peculiar tone, but who also had a strong technique.
And on they go. Deborah Polaski at the Met in Elektra. (One of the greatest performances I have ever been lucky enough to experience.) On video, Anna Evans in Gotterdammerung at Bayreuth. (So vulnerable, human.) Anna Caterina Antonacci in Les Troyens. (So full of great interpretive insights.) Heinz Zednik in most of his recordings, including the Met video of Siegfried. What a fascinating Mime. (Ugly, nontraditional, forced at times, but never boring. Never.)
But mostly, bad technique leads to bad singing and great displeasure for me. (So, technically, Pears has nothing to complain about) But even I have to admit, sometimes, perfection isn't everything.
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