Claramae Turner (Auntie). Since Margaret Harshaw took this role at the premiere and on the broadcast, and since we don’t know the precise date of the 1948 recording, I’m trusting my ears that we’re hearing Turner, who sang the part at Sullivan’s debut and most of the subsequent performances. She’s probably best known operatically as the Ulrica of Toscanini’s Ballo in maschera, and non-operatically as the Nettie of the Carousel film and a recording of the musical for Command. But I recall her as a leading contralto with the New York City Opera in the 1960s, especially as Carmen, in the contralto roles of Il Trittico (still the best La Frugola of my experience), and as La Mère in Louise (sorry to have missed her Madame Flora). She was always vital of both voice and action, a real theatre personality. We hear all that in her ’48 Auntie, and when we come to the ’49 broadcast, the Auntie is none other than Madeira, who, eighteen years down the road, was to be the Mrs. Sedley of the memorable Tyrone Guthrie/Colin Davis/Jon Vickers, et al. production.

Martha Lipton (Mrs. Sedley). This mezzo-soprano did not get many leading-role assignments during her seventeen years with the Met. But her full-bodied voice and stage savvy made for consistently satsfiying repetitions of Emilia, Maddalena, Meg, Annina, and other roles of the important secondary type. She was well-regarded by New York Philharmonic conductors under contract with Columbia (Bruno Walter, Leonard Bernstein), and in the ’50s made a number of recordings under them, as well as a disc of Copland’s Emily Dickinson songs with the composer at the piano. She later taught at Indiana University. In this music, she hasn’t quite the depth or dowager plumminess that Madeira was to deploy, but she captures the tone of the character, and winds insinuatingly through the reptilian motif that limns her suspicions.

Thomas Hayward (Bob Boles). I have already made note of Hayward as the Edmondo of the 1956 Manon Lescaut and as the Steuermann of the ’49 Fliegende Holländer. With a timbre not unlike Sullivan’s, though not quite the heft, he alternated with Sullivan in some roles (Alfred; Andrei in Khovanshchina), sang leading roles at many a student matinee, and often “stood by” for Björling, stepping in at least once for him as Faust. He was popular as a radio singer. His Met debut was as Tybalt (he’s on the famous ’47 Roméo broadcast), and as the Act 2 Grimes scene builds, he brings some of that fire to the proceedings. Coincidentally, Hayward was a cousin of Lawrence Tibbett’s (see below).

Hugh Thompson (Ned Keene). A high baritone instrument which, though on the lighter side, had an edge (in the good sense) that carried it out, and a striking stage presence. I saw him as Schaunard, Silvio (typical roles), and Paolo Albiani (not typical, but theatrically effective). He recorded Moralès and Frank (Fledermaus) for RCA Victor, but a better idea of his capabilities is conveyed by his Iago in a 1957 concert performance of the Rossini Otello, heavily cut and innocent of performance-practice observances, but preserving some stunning vocalism by Eileen Farrell. (As it happens, Hayward is the Otello.) Hugh was the son of the critic Oscar Thompson, and later the dramatic director of the Hunter College Opera Workshop, where I was among his charges. Perhaps because my voice at that time was of a similar type to his, he paid me good attention, and we socialized on a few occasions. I valued his thoughts on singing and acting, and his recollections of artists he had sung with.