In the mid-1960s, just as it had become clear that Maria Callas had given up singing in public, along came Elena Souliotis, also Greek, also with a somewhat wayward voice, also with a chest register detached from the rest of her voice–and also, apparently, vocally fearless. She was dubbed a Callas imitator, and many listened carefully and with great interest. She recorded Nabucco for Decca, and as with Callas, opinions were split. The only certainty, the only thing everyone seemed to agree on, was that if she continued with her wild vocal ways she would sing herself out in a few years. And that is just what happened.
Before listening to this re-released CD–her recital debut (and I believe, farewell) on Decca–I recalled how exciting she was, how brilliant and huge the top notes, how sweet the soft singing, and how brutally she was treating her voice. And now, listening to this 45 minutes of music (recorded in 1966, when she was in her brief prime), it all comes back and it’s precisely as remembered.
There’s plenty of temperament and plenty of thrills. There’s also a real disregard for what a young voice should be put through. And she’s no Callas. While there’s plenty of drama, there are few original insights and there’s plenty of vocal vulgarity. This is an interesting artifact of a nova that didn’t even return to being a regular star. She just fell apart. By the way, Decca misspelled her name on the original album (or she later changed the spelling), and that’s what you get here. The recording is unflattering to the upper third of her voice and occasionally sounds as if made in a tile bathroom.
