Hoffmann’s Fantastic Tales Return

Further on ’44: Ezio Pinza, a fine Coppélius even if he pronounces it Coppéli-oose, lands with tremendous impact as Miracle, by virtue of letting his rich, powerful basso-cantante, unfailing animation, and uniquely suggestive mezza-voce do the work. Raoul Jobin’s fresh, eager Hoffmann is a pleasure, and Nicola Moscona gives Crespel great stature. And there is Beecham, with his long experience of the work and his proclivity for French music in general. All the lighter, lyrical sections are beautifully rendered; in the more driven passages, his tempi are exaggeratedly fast to my ear.

On Met ’55, we have Monteux, whose more proportionate tempi and greater weightiness I prefer, at least in the full grand opera context. In a cast that is vocally quite strong, there is also Singher as the nemeses, in better voice than in the live performances I heard. He combines the format of a baryton grave with the lightness of touch needed for Lindorf and the sleekness for Dapertutto, and is irreproachable in matters of language and style.

New Orleans ’64: The most heavily cut of all these performances, and at points provincial-sounding. But Beverly Sills and Norman Treigle, the duo who, in the well-directed and -designed production by Tito Capobianco, made the New York City Opera’s Hoffmann the city’s choice for a number of years, are here, and in fresher form than on their later studio recording.

Erato ’96: The scholarship that has been done, beginning with conductor Antonio de Almeida’s discoveries in 1977, continuing with Oeser’s work and above all Kaye’s, is cumulatively superb. It’s wonderful to have so much of the material available to us, and to have Kaye’s well-considered curation on this recording. Apart from the differences from the standard version already noted, the most significant are in the Venetian act. They comprise a different ordering of numbers, passages of spoken dialogue and mélodrame (both in place of and in addition to recitative) and the  extension and expansion of the action following the duel and the lost reflection episode. The revisions push the act much closer to the comique tradition than the preceding acts, and there is much on the recording that is strictly for the mic. After several listenings in the years since its release, I am skeptical as to its chances of all hanging together on the stage, but certainly willing to test this impression should the occasion arise. For most devotees, the most noticeable difference will be in the treatment of Giulietta. There was evidently considerable difficulty in working Sumi Jo into the recording schedule, and at least some of her singing had to be dubbed over the accompaniment or against her prerecorded partner. That can’t have helped. She’s a good artist, and we pick up a generous share of interpretive intelligence from her performance. Hers is a light, pure coloratura voice, at points showing an early music influence that is not a part of the other performers’ stylistic approach. Giulietta’s aria has charm enough until it starts to incorporate older-style ornamentation. Kaye is careful to note that the cadenza, as sung by Jo, is not part of his performing edition, but a fair stretch of written floridity leading up to it is equally vacuous. I am all for a soprano Giulietta, but this one doesn’t seem to belong to this opera.

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NEXT TIME: It won’t be until January 7 that I attend the Met’s new production of Verdi’s Aïda, directed by Michael Mayer and conducted by Yannick Nézet-Séguin. Meanwhile, though, I’ve been harvesting some thoughts about both the condition and direction of our principal opera company and of our artform in general and the cultural milieu it finds itself in. Let’s call it an editorial. I’ll hope to have it ready by Friday, November 29.

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