All this means that before we can reasonably expect the performers to recognize and attempt to take advantage of these interpretive openings, we must ascertain if their voices are disposed to do so. Paul Appleby’s lyric tenor does fit the range requirements for Pelléas. But its grainy, head-dominated texture bears no trace of anything we’d call a core, or even the shallower, pointed brightness cultivated by some of the lighter French exponents of the part, and it fades toward the bottom. As a consequence, he could not make the conversational stretches of the writing present in the vastness of the auditorium, and when he tried to sing out more strongly in the later scenes, the voice did not respond well—he was swamped in the Act IV scene in the park. These troubles have nothing to do with deficiencies in “diction” or inflectional intent; they are inherent in the voice’s structure.

Isabel Leonard’s pretty Modern Mezzo was never in any functional difficulty in Mélisande’s music (and actually, this is a fairly arduous assignment, in the same sense as is, say, Susanna in Le Nozze di Figaro). But the Modern Mezzo adjustment (moderate size, a rounded lyric soprano timbre, little or no defined chest or clear blend at the bottom) is no better suited to the projection of low-lying recitative than is Appleby’s tenor. Leonard’s performance was consistently Easy Listening, which is by far not enough. Vocally, Mélisande is best served by a clear, open soprano voice with lower-range strength. That usually does imply chest engagement, even if the voice is essentially light. Two famous Met Mélisandes, Lucrezia Bori and Bidu Sayão, illustrate this structure, and the interpretations of both are preserved on aircheck recordings, though Bori’s (from 1934) has to be listened to with patient concentration. ^(I)