This evening we played a VCR that has been gathering dust in my archives for much too long. It is First Ladies of the Opera filmed for the Bell Telephone Hour in 1967. The Bell Telephone Hour used to be a staple in my home growing up, first on the radio and later on TV.
Donald Voorhees introduced each Diva and had a brief interview with her. First was Birgit Nilsson who opened with 'Dich teure Halle' from Wagner's Tannhäuser. With her brilliant, radiant tone she blazed her way through the aria in fine fettle. She then sang 'In questa Reggia' from Turandot, which she apparently sang at the Met. I heard her sing many roles there but, somehow, missed that one. While hers is certainly not an Italianate voice, she could belt out the high tessitura required for the role. It brought back memories of Salome and Elektra that I had heard her do in the house. Her Tosca, on the other hand just didn't work in her Nordic voice. But it was truly a voice for the ages.
Next came Leontyne Price, that great American soprano. She sang 'Io son l'umile ancella' from Ariadne Lecouvreur of Cilea and 'Pace, Pace, mio Dio' from La Forza del Destino. I had heard her sing the Verdi many times in the hall but never the Cilea. The thing that amazed me the most about her singing was that every breath she took was a nose breath! That's a no-no in my Book of Singing Rules, but for her it worked. Later in her career I heard her sing this aria with the Boston Symphony in Symphony Hall. By that time in her career her middle voice had almost disappeared and the malediziones started in a very strange nasal place in the middle of her voice. Perhaps if she had taken a mouth breath and relaxed the larynx it would have worked better.
Then came Joan Sutherland, whose recent death saddened the world of opera. She sang the 'Bell Song' from Lakme with incredible bravura and amazing agility. Nobody could nail those high 'E's' like Joan! She also sang an oddity, 'Io no sono piu l'Annette' from Ricci's Crispino e la Comare, which I had never heard of. Her coloratura was simply incredible. Every note right on pitch, a perfect natural trill, and a speed in fioratura that boggles the mind. I had always heard that she had never sung the 'Queen of the Night' role, but recently, when visiting a friend, heard a rcording from Covent Garden in which she did just that. We won't see her like soon again, if ever.
The last was Renata Tebaldi who sang 'Voi lo sapete' from Cavalleria Rusticana of Mascagni and 'Suicidio' from Ponchielli's La Gioconda. This was an amazing voice that often flatted the top notes but had an enormous 'chest voice' akin to that of Marilyn Horne.
A trip back into musical history. I was fortunate to have heard all of these women on stage during their heyday and, sometimes, into their decline. I remember hearing Tebaldi at the Met toward the end of her career. She had a high 'C' to sing and turned and simply screamed offstage left. She was one who should have retired a little earlier.
What a lucky discovery to find this film which I hadn't looked at in years and remember all the glorious times I had been in the audience for these four Divas. Each was unique. Each had a brilliant career, and each will be difficult, if not impossible, to replace by anyone in today's stable of artists.