La Sonnambula is Bellini’s sweetest and most endearing opera, and that is precisely why it is so hard to put across. Amina is the soul of innocence–she and her entire village are sort of a picture postcard–and if the cast and conductor aren’t careful the whole opera can make a sickly impression. In the 1955 live set from Scala with Bernstein conducting Callas, we have all the sweetness, plus the rage of Cesare Valletti as Elvino. Valletti really does sound betrayed and furious, which leads to Callas’ incredible hurt at the close of Act I and throughout most of Act II, and allows her to end, vindicated, with a triumphal, lusty “Ah non giunge”. Sutherland’s set is all great singing, with Pavarotti the most virile recorded Elvino, and on private labels we have a fascinating Scotto and Kraus in terrible sound. Naxos’ eight-year-old entry with Luba Organasova and Raul Gimenez is pretty terrific and note-complete, as is this new set, which has a lot to recommend it.
Marcello Viotti leads a performance that emphasizes the gentle; but as mentioned above, this can lead to a certain spinelessness, and at times that’s what we get here–saccharine-like mush. Tenor Jose Bros’ Elvino has all the notes and sings ardently, but he sounds cautious and puny at times, and that’s just what we don’t need, particularly in the denunciation scene near the end of Act One. And Edita Gruberova’s Amina fits in with his outlook: Her singing is simply spectacular, with rock-solid high notes capable of being produced at any dynamic level–but she tends to croon her way into the part too much, and this weakens the character. Her soft, sweet attacks become affectations after a while. When all is said and done, her Amina is memorable for its adorable shyness and accuracy; but unlike either Callas or Scotto whose timbres are unique and flavorful enough to keep us fascinated, or Sutherland, who is like a singing geyser, Gruberova does not make us want to hear more. Roberto Scandiuzzi’s Rodolfo is similarly soft-edged, and so is the villainess (well, within the context) Lisa, as sung by Dawn Kotowski.
This review has turned out to be harsher than I meant it to be: There’s excellent singing galore here, and all the ensemble work is beautiful. Were it not for the comparisons, this would be a greatly desirable reading. We’re spoiled, I’m afraid.
