Now only 33, Joseph Calleja has just released his third solo CD. Wonder of wonders, the hope one had for him is being realized: this disc is superb. The previous two showed a fine voice with a wiry and very prominent vibrato that made some people nervous; at any rate, it seems to have settled down. It is still a major aspect of Calleja’s sound but it is never intrusive. Although comparisons are never a good idea, I must say that he may not have the interpretive imagination of Jonas Kaufmann or Rolando Villazon, but he is certainly more thoroughly Italianate than the former and sings less muscularly than the latter. In fact, it seems as if there’s nothing the voice can’t do.
As far as his characterizations go, since he is so wonderfully musical, his obedience to the composer’s dynamics comes to equal interpretation. Like most tenors, he has two modes–anger and sadness–but his phrasing is so attentive to the words that he manages depth. The tear in his voice–almost Bjoerling-like–makes his Riccardo in Ballo a very moving interpretation, and I love the way he caresses the word “meditar” sweetly in Faust’s “Dai campi, dai prati”–the best reading of this aria since Gigli’s. He makes Faust, here early in the opera, a truly religious and philosophical type.
He really sings out in the recit before Adorno’s aria from Boccanegra, at full, impressive throttle; contrast this with his gentle singing at the start of the Pearl Fishers duet, where he sings handsomely with the lovely Polish soprano Aleksandra Kurzak. And they both end the duet with high B-flats in perfect voix-mixte. The diminuendo on the high C in “Salut demeure” is remarkable, though I would’ve liked the next note held a bit longer.
I get the feeling that what to do with rubato is lacking in Calleja, or maybe conductor Marco Armiliato is simply too literal. But this is a stunning recital disc–albeit of predictable arias–from a major artist who will probably be with us for another 30 years and should be heard.
