If you want to know what perfect legato singing is, listen to Carlo Bergonzi’s Alfredo; if you want to hear pianissimos that startle with their loveliness, pay heed to Caballé. Bergonzi’s Alfredo satisfies throughout as a characterization as well, whether in love or enraged; Caballé, in superb, easy voice, misses many dramatic opportunities (such as any sense of joy or coyness in Act 1 or true devastation in Act 3), but her sound remains staggeringly beautiful. Sherrill Milnes’ Germont is handsomely sung and occasionally nuanced, but he does a fair amount of unbsubtle yelling. Blame much grief on Georges Prêtre’s leadership: it’s brash, inexplicably un-Verdian (long lines are invariably interrupted for tempo changes, and certain phrases jut out as if underlined), and detrimental. The rest of the cast is good, and Caballé’s and Bergonzi’s fans probably already own this. You need a Traviata in your collection, but this 1967 recording isn’t it.
