These 1978 performances of Cav and Pag are arguably the best on the market. Sonically and visually better ones have appeared, but these have been restored and are just fine. It was back when “live” telecasts were recorded: this is a one-take event, without make-up sessions or splices from different evenings. “Live from the Met” telecasts had only begun the previous year and these were great events.
Franco Zeffirreli’s productions have everything we might fear, love, despise, and expect: too many people on stage, ultra-real-looking townfolk, nuns, animals, and what one writer referred to as “the best poverty-stricken Sicilian village money can buy.” The Easter Procession is a pip; the long staircase to the church is superbly used, though I’m not sure about Santuzza’s pantomime-of-grief during the prelude.
The Pag is less messy (although there are still acrobats and fire-eaters). It begins brilliantly, with Tonio in a blaze of circular lights against the Met’s gold curtain, and goes on to a splendid “play scene”, which is better to watch on video than it was in the house: it all takes place stage left, so those sitting on one side of the house missed most of it. TV director Kirk Browning solves the problem.
I doubt you’ll see or hear a better show: James Levine, in his early prime, leads with respect for the music and the Verismo tradition and whips the action into a melodramatic frenzy; the Met Chorus and Orchestra already had been well-trained and they perform beautifully. Placido Domingo sings both tenor leads tirelessly, with bite, ringing tone, sincerity, and passion. You forget how “into” roles he used to get before he had sung them 400 times (the operas he kept finding “new” things in are Otello and Hoffman; late Cavaradossis and Canios have a sameness to them). He looks a bit young and virile for Canio here and doesn’t yet have Turiddu’s danger down pat, but this is a superstar in the making. But he reacts as well as acts; of course it helps that he’s opposite two blazing women co-stars.
Tatiana Troyanos’ Santuzza keeps glancing at Levine and that can distract, but get over it–the creamy, rock-solid voice, musical intelligence, and audible snarl are riveting. And in Pag, Domingo has Teresa Stratas, flawless, dreamy, nasty, and always natural to play against. In Cav, Vern Shinall is a forthright thug-Alfio and Jean Kraft a sour-puss Mamma Lucia, with Isola Jones sexing it up for Lola. In Pag, Sherrill Milnes sings magnificently; the Prologue brings the house down, but he’s a bit hammy, acting for the house rather than the small screen. Still, no complaints. Allan Monk is a luxurious Silvio and James Atherton a mellifluous Beppe. Not perfect performances, but they will leave you breathless nonetheless. [10/24/2011]
