The voice: a light, limpid soprano, supremely sweet, tonally pure, and even throughout its range. The interpretations: elegantly stylish, totally idiomatic, superficially cool but always conveying the emotional content of the music, and always with crystal-clear diction. The singer: Suzanne Danco, largely forgotten today except by connoisseurs with a historical bent. Admired by conductors as wildly different as Hermann Scherchen and Ernest Ansermet, her repertoire ranged from Purcell, Handel, and Gluck to Berg, Britten, and Stravinsky. An outstanding Mozartian and expert in German lied, she’s best known these days for her French melodies. Pearl brings together French music sung by Danco in her prime: Berlioz’s Nuits d’été from 1951 with Thor Johnson and the Cincinnati Symphony; 10 songs by Gounod, from a 1950 broadcast recital with pianist Frederick Stone; and two Debussy songs with pianist Ernest Lush from a 1949 broadcast.
Nuits d’été has had some wonderful recordings, from the classic Janet Baker and Régine Crespin to the recent Véronique Gens, with at least half-a-dozen more that should make Berlioz fans smile with pleasure. Danco’s is one of the best. The overall impression is that she takes the songs faster than most, but there’s always a feeling of rightness. You feel that yes, Le spectre de la rose should have the touch of languor she brings to it and that Au cimitière is more effective with a flowing tempo. That sense of rightness shows itself time and again on this disc. In the Berlioz, for instance, we may imagine that her light lyric soprano would be less effective than a richer, more dramatic mezzo voice–however, Danco always fulfills the music’s expressive and dramatic requirements. The voice floats freely, executes breathtaking legato effects and firmly rounded pianissimos, and she delivers the low tessitura of Sur les lagunes with no hint of strain.
The Gounod songs are done to perfection too. Danco’s flawless, tonally beautiful singing and expressive handling of the texts is so stylish she makes them sound like masterpieces. Just listen to her lovely Sérenade, the subtle beauties of Au rossignol, and the thrust of Tombex mes ailes and you come away convinced they can be sung no other way, and by no other voice. That voice, by its nature as a light instrument, could convey a fragility that makes a song like Le soir a touching experience. And listening to the emotional range Danco finds in Debussy’s Ballade que Villon and the energy she brings to Ballade des femmes de Paris makes you wonder how she ever got tagged with the “cool” label.
Pearl doesn’t provide texts and translations, but Danco’s impeccable diction makes the words comprehensible, in itself an amazing feat for a high soprano. But if your French isn’t up to snuff, you’ll miss the full effect of the Gounod and Debussy songs. Roger Beardsley’s producer’s note in the booklet suggests that the Gounod and Debussy derive from acetates in poor condition, in which case he’s done a fine restoration. But comparing the Berlioz with a Decca LP reissue from 1984, I found that Pearl’s transfer makes Danco’s voice unnaturally big and full–and overbright on loud high notes. The orchestral balance also is distorted. The voice blankets the orchestra, the bass and detail present on the LP are gone, and the Cincinnatians sound pushed all the way back to Cleveland. But don’t let that deter you. This marvelous recital, together with the Danco CD in Decca’s The Singers series (type Q4554 in the Search box for my review), will give you the essential core of Danco’s art. Here’s hoping for more reissues of this great singer.
