This set, dating from 1956, features three fine singers–Carteri, Valletti, and Warren–but none is at his/her best, and the set is led with amazing tedium by Pierre Monteux, obviously out of his repertoire. Monteux’s leadership is positively plodding; he turns every private moment into a dirge, and the public moments, whether the joy in the Brindisi in the first act or the denunciation scene in the second, never catch fire. It’s impossible to tell what he’s after: the whole undertaking is earthbound in the extreme.
This hampers the singers as well. Carteri never sounds comfortable, let alone sparkling when called for, and even without Monteux to add to her problems you feel that she’s in poor voice. Valletti, the most elegant of tenors, manages his aria well enough, but he never sounds enamored, enraged, or filled with genuine feeling in the three acts. He tries, but the tempos lay him low. Warren sounds at his woolliest at first but is better in the duet and aria; still, he’s not right for the part. He’s better in the bonus arias, and in the duet with Varnay from Boccanegra. This set is a drag.
