This is an album of some very beautiful, warm, sensitive, and occasionally very powerful singing. Karita Mattila has had a successful worldwide career and has enjoyed considerable praise from the press. And it is indeed a beautiful voice; it floats rather than soars, caresses rather than cajoles. Perhaps that’s why much of this collection left me wanting more–to be blown away rather than merely pleased. But you know, it’s tough when you’ve been spoiled in Die Walküre by Regine Crespin and Gundala Janowitz, in Pique Dame and Manon Lescaut by Mirella Freni, and in Jenufa by Elisabeth Söderström. Actually, this last Mattila does particularly well, but her best is Chrysothemis from Strauss’ Elektra. Here Mattila really rides the orchestra, the voice shimmers, and the declamation is impassioned. It’s as if she knows the character’s deep yearning on a highly personal level.
But I must be reminded that so many singers are completely different animals on stage than in the recording studio (Eva Marton is a perfect example), and I suspect that when I hear Mattila live, I’ll know what all the fuss is about. She’s well supported by Yutaka Sado’s well-shaped accompaniments with the London Philharmonic, and naturally placed in the recording balance. Enchanting, but not enthralling.
