This recording makes its first appearance on CD–which also marks its first issue since EMI originally released it in 1956. Antonietta Stella was the “consolation prize” soprano for this project, as Maria Callas, fresh from her La Scala triumph as Violetta, was contractually unavailable at the time. Walter Legge went ahead with what he felt was a strong cast. And he was not wrong, but Callas’ later recording (with the same principals and Giulini conducting) completely overshadowed Stella’s, whose career in some ways would be forever circumscribed due to the fact she “was not Callas”. And it’s true that Stella’s performance simply is not in Callas’ league in terms of dramatic sweep and vivid realization of the role. Callas is Violetta.
However, Stella is not without her strengths, including a consistently-produced tone (with a far smoother timbre than Callas) and a powerful dynamic range that apparently was beyond the capabilities of EMI’s recording equipment. She skillfully manages the extremes of “Sempre Libra”, though not without some slight traces of harshness–in contrast, Montserrat Caballé on RCA pours out torrents of clean, full sound, seemingly with more in reserve. Stella comes off best in her Act 2 scene with the elder Germont, where she conveys Violetta’s descent from giddy joy to gloomy despair with near-tactile emotional honesty. Tito Gobbi gives a notably restrained performance as Germont, and his “Di Provenza” displays genuine tenderness and concern, a welcome change from the usual stentorian lecture.
The booklet notes proclaim Giuseppe Di Stefano the star of this project, and he is in exceptionally fine voice. His “De miei bolenti spiriti” will spoil you for anyone else’s, and he sings with great emotion in Act 2’s famous party scene. However, probably due to the nature of this recording, his performance sounds very much to be for the microphones, allowing little of the dramatic interplay you’d find in a live production (or even a” staged” recording). It’s Serafin himself who’s the real star here: his deep knowledge of and commitment to Verdi’s score shows in his loving attention to detail and in his passionate conducting, through which he draws luminous playing from the La Scala orchestra. EMI’s vintage mono sound, full and vivid, suffers intermittently from tape saturation, but otherwise it sounds fine in Testament’s excellent transfer. The great missing Traviata? I think not. But an interesting curio of a particular moment in recording history, and an important memoir of a talented if underappreciated soprano.
