Search - Antonio Pappano, Angela Gheorghiu, Jonas Kaufmann :: Giacomo Puccini: Madama Butterfly

A beautiful "Butterfly" - but it does not displace the Karaj

Ralph Moore | Bishop's Stortford, UK | 03/10/2009

(4 out of 5 stars)

"The very fact that this recording was made at all is a cause for celebration. The 2004 "Tristan und Isolde" was declared by EMI to be the last commercial recording of its kind; henceforth opera would be available only on DVD's of live performances - but here we are with a brand new "Madama Butterfly" performed by a top-rate cast and conductor. When he became the Royal Opera's Music Director in 2002, Pappano vowed to make recordings only with his resident forces, but being a pragmatist and no prima donna of the old school, he sensibly compromised his principles when the opportunity arose to make this recording in Rome. Given that an opera recording can incur costs approaching half a million pounds, it made sense to integrate the recording into the annual schedule of the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia. Overheads such as the hall, the recording studio and the orchestra itself were thus absorbed within the Accademia's budget and the project became commercially viable. Furthermore, the timing was right: had the current financial crisis hit earlier, or the recording schedule been delayed, one wonders if it would ever have got off the ground.



So we have every reason to cheer and hope that so risky a venture as a new, complete, opera recording proves financially successful. I feel a certain pressure on me as a reviewer to be as positive as possible about this set - and, thankfully, that's not too hard. The indications are all good: the reigning EMI house diva Angela Gheorghiu has a particular affinity with Puccini; her voice has just the right plangency and morbidezza for his heroines. She has not sung the rôle on stage - but then, neither had Mirella Freni when she made her seminal version with Karajan - and indeed, she never did perform it live. German tenor Jonas Kaufmann is one of the two or three most sought-after on the circuit, with a voice of the kind of heft that is all too rare today. Antonio Pappano is proving to be the most dependable and successful of conductors; despite being only in mid-career he has already made a dozen opera recordings at a time when most conductors can only dream of so doing. Finally, the idea of returning a major Puccini recording to the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia has a nostalgic as well as a practical appeal: they were responsible for legion top-quality recordings in the 50's.



So can I be sufficiently positive about this recording? Yes; but with some qualifications. Let's start with the obvious: the sound is spectacularly good; spacious, warm, and superior to any previous set - so much so that there is quite a lot of extraneous noise, especially if one listens through headphones: creaks, thumps, groans and cars accelerating all form a sonic underlay, so acute are the microphones. Balances are very good and the virtuosity of Pappano's orchestra is there for all to hear; there is energy and attack in plenty, in combination with some lovely gradation of dynamics. Little details and subtleties emerge under Pappano's direction; he has clearly re-thought the score and brought his customary zest to bear. Karajan's reading - my main reference point for comparison - is often longer breathed and grander, and the sound a little more plush, less pointed - but I haven't heard many complaints about either his conducting or the technical quality of the Decca recording.



"Madama Butterfly" must stand or fall by the quality of its two principals, but I'll deal with the supporting cast first. All are more than adequate, yet each is bettered elsewhere. I have always thought that Robert Kerns's Sharpless, in the Karajan set, has been unfairly criticised for dullness; he has a pleasant voice and responds both wisely and sympathetically to the caddish Pinkerton's self-inflicted predicament. He is no Gobbi, whose nuanced vocalisation, apart from some strain in the upper reaches of his range, is near ideal in the 1954 recording conducted by Gavazzeni. Compared with both of these, Fabio Capitanucci is a bit of a bellower; he has a nice voice but little subtlety. As Suzuki, Enkelejda Shkosi is a little wobbly and matronly compared with Christa Ludwig, though her Flower Duet with Gheorghiu goes very well. Similarly, Cristina Reale's Kate reveals too much wobble in her few phrases. Gregory Bonfatti's Goro has one of those "cutting edge" character tenors which can grate on the ear; I much prefer Michel Sénéchal's silky insolence in the Karajan. Raymond Aceto's Bonzo is simply unacceptable; his uningratiating tone is as bad as I had remembered (from his Capellio in "I Capuleti e i Montecchi"); give me Marius Rintzler's noble sound any day. The chorus is excellent, especially the ladies accompanying Butterfly as they ascend the hill.



Now to the raison d'être of this set: Gheorghiu's Butterfly. As with her recordings of "La Rondine" and "Tosca", both made before she had sung the parts on stage, this is her first essay at this most demanding of lyric-spinto rôles - although you would never guess it. She really lives the part and certain moments are unforgettably realised: the searing, surging despair of her "Ah! m'ha scordata?", the lovely, liquid portamenti in the love duet, the heart-rending cries of "Morta!" in "Sai cos'ebbe cuore" - as Sharpless observes, "Quanta pietà" indeed; she never fails to move. Even without quite having the vocal resources of some of her illustrious vocal forebears, she manages triumphantly the transition from fragile teenager to heart-broken wife and mother to tragic heroine. She cannot emulate the unearthly beauty of Mirella Freni's floated D-flat in the entrance aria - Gheorghiu's is not ideally steady - but she does almost everything else admirably. Her fans will want this set for her performance alone. (There is one puzzling little oddity, given the obvious time and trouble expended on this recording: Gheorghiu fluffs the words at the beginning of Act 2, saying "Perchè rispose" instead of "dispone". A negligible error - but why not re-take?)



Finally, to Jonas Kaufmann's Pinkerton - and for me, here's the rub. I have greatly admired his singing, both live and on disc, although I was far less enthusiastic than some about his singing of the classic Italian tenor rôles on his recital disc; it seems to me that his timbre is far better suited to Weber, Wagner and Bizet's Don José and I hear nothing here to change my mind. I miss the smile in the voice, the Italianate gleam, the seamless legato of a true Puccini tenor like Pavarotti in his prime. Kaufmann's hefty, baritonal sound is certainly thrilling and there is every justification for characterising the cruel, feckless Pinkerton as a bit of a brute. This, apparently, was Kaufmann's conception of Pinkerton as "cold, calculating"; it both suits his voice and explains why, according to reports, both Gheorghiu and Pappano were urging him to greater passion in the love music, but it robs Pinkerton of an essential vocal allure and the audience of any chance of suspending their condemnation of an essentially unattractive anti-hero. You have to believe that Pinkerton, as a "Yankee vagabondo", temporarily believes his own lies while he is serenading his new child-wife. In addition, I am perturbed by Kaufmann's apparent acquisition of a new vocal bad habit: he repeatedly injects little glottal sobs into what should be a seamless sound. Presumably he does this for emotive effect but too much of "les larmes dans la voix" becomes a tiresome tic. The top of his voice, although often thrilling, does not expand or caress in the manner of singers such as Bergonzi or Björling, thus the climactic B-flat of "America for ever" is uncomfortable, the pianissimi can turn husky, and too many high notes are approached with that little bleat which disrupts the line. I still much enjoyed listening to his virile, impassioned sound, but I found his portrayal of Pinkerton a tad two-dimensional, and I hope that he will not let the glottal habit take root in his voice.



The packaging of this set is a "2CD Limited Edition deluxe clamshell, [with] 152pp booklet, libretto, synopsis, liner notes, [and] photos". In other words, beautifully presented - although the way the booklet rattles inside the over-large box is a bit irritating. Coincidentally, this new recording was made in the 150th anniversary of Puccini's birth; it certainly does him honour but will not replace the Karajan in my loyalties.

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It really is that good.

Maxwell G. Paley | SF Bay Area | 03/15/2009

(5 out of 5 stars)

"This is not the stereotypical studio recording (rare as those now are). It's a really alive, probing, exciting and moving rendition of this music. The pictures of Gheorghiu might suggest a glossy fashion zine, but she pours her heart and soul into this recording; she clearly loves the role and the music and has given it her very best. Kaufmann sounds unlike any Italian tenor in this music but I find him utterly convincing. The supporting cast emphasizes vivid character over vocal glamour, but all are razor sharp in their awareness of every nuance of the music and text. Pappano creates an extraordinarily controlled musical framework that allows all of the elements room to breath, but also keeps the tension high.



I'll put up with the extraneous sounds to get the effect of this kind of open-mike recording in which all of the forces are in the same hall at the same time, hearing each other and responding to each other. The sound harkens back to the era of the great Mercury Living Presence and RCA Living Stereo recordings in its impact and naturalness."

A Touching and Colorful Portrait of our favorite Geisha

The Cultural Observer | 03/29/2009

(5 out of 5 stars)

"The intimacy of Puccini's operas lend themselves well to the likewise intimate trappings of the recording studio. Indeed, there was once a time when producers in recording companies would commit at least one recording of his operas year after year, exploiting the abundance of voices available during their era to create some of the most memorable recordings that we continue to consider as definitive today. We are not so lucky today: first because of the exorbitant fees associated with studio products, second because for the preponderance of exquisite Mozart and Handel voices, we all seem to have sacrificed our Puccini and Verdi sopranos, if those terms make any sense at all.



To my recollection, there are three recordings of Madama Butterfly that I absolutely cherish: the Karajan recording with Maria Callas, the Barbirolli recording with the unforgettable Scotto, and the classic Serafin recording with Tebaldi. Each one of those sopranos had something distinct to say about the work that made it so personal and unforgettable that we at once identify with this geisha whose plights are exposed throughout the entire drama that we are able to sense a development in her character. Now, with the advent of this Butterfly, I would add Gheorghiu to that list, never mind all the qualms people have about the plausibility of her voice to tackle such a demanding part in the opera house.



What Gheorghiu bequeaths to this quintessential Puccini role is an abundance of color and vocal texture that never escapes her vivid imagination. From her entrance, her lilting voice creates a silhouette of a sylph-like teenager who comes with all the timid manner of an East Asian girl trying to escape the clutches of her tradition. One famous phrase that has become a point of comparison, regardless of its brevity, is the way that a Butterfly would utter the phrase "morto!" Callas did this with an abundance of candor and poignancy, exposing us to the kaleidoscopically tragic character of Cio-Cio San. Gheorghiu does it slightly differently, but with no less impact. She is capable of turning that phrase into a window that opens into the inner psychology of her soul. As she engages into the love duet, her beautiful, dusky lyric timbre fits the part of Butterfly like a glove and makes us think really of a fifteen year old rather than a grand priestess of music trying to sound like one.



In Act 2, when she struggles between trying to reveal her son's existence, we are made aware of the dismay that Butterfly has to go through in order to let Sharpless know about the impossibility of the situation. By the way, her Un Bel Di is absolutely gorgeous. My favorite moment in the opera, however, is the aria "Che tua madre", which only in my mind Callas could sing with emotive precision. Gheorghiu comes close, but she was never really a class A tragedian in the mould of Callas. When Butterfly realizes that Pinkerton is arriving, she sounds rightfully ecstatic, and upon meeting Kate, we are also made aware of her indecision and her despair. Her final scene is a tour-de-force, awarding the listener with a compellingly complete portrait of a woman sings with abandon upon realizing the hopelessness of her life. There is no doubt that Gheorghiu belongs to the pantheon of great singers that include Scotto and Callas, if we were to judge her by this recording alone.



Jonas Kaufmann is glamorous casting for the short yet pivotal character of Pinkerton. His dark, handsome voice fits the part admirably, and his dramatic acumen is no less capable of producing the kind of effect one would feel from a singer who plumbs the part and sees it as a vehicle for deceit and trickery while infusing it with an amorous ardency. Kaufmann fits that bill, and is but one of the many singers today equipped with an instrument sizable enough to project a right Puccini-esque amplitude and timbre into the theater.



As Suzuki, Enkelejda Shkosi does not efface such greats like Christa Ludwig or Fiorenza Cossotto who can make magic with this small yet effectively touching role. If you want to see her as a Brangäne figure, go for Ludwig. If it is a rich Italianate maid that you want, with meltingly large tones and all, go for Cossotto. But Shkosi does fine and accompanies Gheorghiu valiantly in the flower duet. Fabio Capitanucci sounds like a Verdi baritone who walked into the wrong opera. His large baritone voice has little of the intimacies that make Sharpless human and sympathizing. Raymond Aceto is a coarse Bonzo, while Gregory Bonfatti sounds more like a Mime who has wandered into Puccini territory.



The largest draw for me in this venture was Pappano's conducting. Time and time again, Pappano has proven himself as a master of the operatic literature, amazing listeners in his nuanced performances of operas by Massenet, Verdi, Puccini, Wagner, Tchaikovsky, Bizet, Strauss, and Mozart. His conception of this intimate score is no less colored and powerful in its dramatic impact. He propels not only the drama with his incisive drive, but also with a sense for line that never flags and a clarity that allows a second-rate ensemble like the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia to sound like a gossamer German orchestra, resplendent with Japanizations and all. Listen to Che tua madre and how he shapes his strings and percussion instruments with the deft manner of a Japanese lady. Thirty-some years ago, a miracle called James Levine came into the music scene to create some of the most memorable performances of opera ranging from the vast expanse of the literature. Today, we have Pappano, and dare I say that I find him to be far more inspired that Levine? Go crucify me, but I think he's brilliant.



EMI's latest Butterfly is packaged luxuriously in a clamshell with libretto and pictures. By aesthetics factors alone, this package would probably catch your eye. But judging its artistic merits, however, this reviewer would say that this latest release would most likely become a classic in the future."