[4/24/2011] Verdi's "Ingemisco" pits morality and decency against Pope Cardinal Ratguts and his Church (continued)

ABOUT OUR "INGEMISCO" PERFORMANCES

The easy thing to say is that we have here four great lyric-tenor voices. Beniamino Gigli (1890-1957), it's true, had already lost the full liquid ease of his prime by 1939, from some combination of natural erosion and heavy use of his voice, bordering on abuse. (Nevertheless, he would continue singing, including a heavy diet of heavyweight roles, pretty much up till the day he was laid to rest.) He also hard-to-finesse taste issues, which also surface here. Still, parts of his "Ingemisco" are beyond-mere-mortal magnificent.

Vocal-abuse and taste issues are also recurring storylines for Giuseppe di Stefano (1921-2008). On the plus side, he's captured here fairly early, where the glorious ring of what may have been the most sheerly beautiful tenor voice ever recorded was pretty much untainted, though we hear some of the bad vocal habits already -- despite the constraining hand of conductor Toscanini, which may have something to do with the relative unadorned quality of the performance (not necessarily a bad thing where di Stefano was concerned). Again, the best parts of this performance are on a level I can only describe as transcendent.

Which leaves us with Jussi Bjoerling (1911-1960) and Luciano Pavarotti (1935-2007). My original plan was to focus on just these two recordings, which represent singers getting everything there is to be gotten out of a great voice. Pavarotti's "Ingemisco" highlights what for the regrettability of so so much of his career, in which he settled for so much lazier and more whorish a standard of singing and artistry. (As I've noted, though, this doesn't seem to have applied to the Verdi Requiem, which he sang a lot, and with a scrupulousness that I always associated with a canny peasant's respect for the final reckoning.) This too is a relatively unadorned performance, but so fully realized that it's hard to wish for anything more.

Plain is certainly not the word for Bjoerling's performance with Reiner. We already heard a glorious piano-accompanied Bjoerling "Ingemisco," from his 1958 Carnegie Hall recital. In this performance, though, he and Reiner stretch and probe for everything they can find in the music. For a while I thought I actually preferred the Pavarotti recording, but returning to them, all I can say of the Bjoerling is: wow! (As I noted last night, the Reiner-Decca CDs are recorded at a noticeably lower level than the others. I actually tried to fix this, thinking I knew how, but I failed.)

Within each pairing, di Stefano-Gigli and Pavarotti-Bjoerling, I've reversed chronology to lead with the "less fancy" performance. If you just want to hear the really great stuff, by all means stick with Pavarotti and Bjoerling.


(a) "Ingemisco tamquam reus"

I find it hard to imagine a starker baring of the soul. Note the modest strings-only accompaniment (the first two lines of the tercet almost sound unaccompanied), rising in volume and intensity as the singer sings that repeated "supplicanti," then is marked to taper off to ppp ultrasoftness.

Ingemisco tamquam reus,
culpa rubet vultus meus,
supplicanti, supplicanti parce, Deus.

I groan as one who is accused;

guilt reddens my cheek;

Thy supplicant, Thy supplicant spare, O God.

Giuseppe di Stefano (t); NBC Symphony, Arturo Toscanini, cond.
Beniamino Gigli (t); Rome Opera, Tullio Serafin, cond.
Luciano Pavarotti (t); Vienna Philharmonic, Georg Solti, cond.
Jussi Bjoerling (t); Vienna Philharmonic, Fritz Reiner, cond.


(b) "Qui Mariam absolvisti"

Is our supplicant doing some brown-nosing here? He rolls out precedents for divine mercy, and underscores the reason for his hope, rising -- on the repetition of "mihi quoque' to that majestic B-flat. (Sure hope our singer is ready for that!)

Qui Mariam absolvisti
et latronem exaudisti,
mihi quoque spem dedisti,
mihi quoque spem dedisti.

Thou who absolved Mary,

and harkened to the thief,

and who hast given me hope,

and who hast given me hope.

Giuseppe di Stefano (t); NBC Symphony, Arturo Toscanini, cond.
Beniamino Gigli (t); Rome Opera, Tullio Serafin, cond.
Luciano Pavarotti (t); Vienna Philharmonic, Georg Solti, cond.
Jussi Bjoerling (t); Vienna Philharmonic, Fritz Reiner, cond.


(c) "Preces meae non sunt dignae"

The third tercet may come off as something of a throwaway; it's certainly the least dwelled-on, the least adorned musically, of the four, as befits the supplicants statement of his unworthiness. But note in our score page how little music fits on this single page: a mere four bars. For all the seeming spareness of the orchestration, it's actually at its most intricate here.

Preces meae non sunt dignae,
sed tu bonus fac benigne,
ne perenni cremer igne.

My prayers are worthless,

but Thou who art good and kind,

rescue me from everlasting fire.

Giuseppe di Stefano (t); NBC Symphony, Arturo Toscanini, cond.
Beniamino Gigli (t); Rome Opera, Tullio Serafin, cond.
Luciano Pavarotti (t); Vienna Philharmonic, Georg Solti, cond.
Jussi Bjoerling (t); Vienna Philharmonic, Fritz Reiner, cond.


(d) "Inter oves locum praesta"

Finally we come to the meat of the matter, and the music speaks so spectacularly for itself that I'm not going to add anything, at least until we come to what I'm calling the "final miracle." But I do think it's worth taking note of the idiotic imagery. Being placed with the sheep is the ultimate boon, while being placed with the goats is unimaginable horror? Ditto with being placed on God's right rather than left? It's a reminder, I think, of the primitive and moronic superstitions that get enshrined in any religion at the times of its founding and early evolution. Surely sheep aren't really better than goats, and the right side isn't in any way better than the left.

What matters here, though, is that in our supplicant's mind they are. These images become his way of expressing his mortal, or rather immortal, terror at the evaluation of his life.

Inter oves locum praesta
et ab hoedis me sequestra,
Inter oves locum praesta
et ab hoedis me sequestra,
statuens, statuens in parte dextra.

With Thy sheep give me a place,
and from the goats keep me separate,
placing me at Thy right hand.

Now, just when Verdi seems to have finished, with that strong declarative statement of "statuens in parte dextra," he turns out to have one more miracle up his sleeve. I considered subdividing the audio clips for this final miracle, but decided that would be going too far. However, I did note a time cue for each clip. As to the musical miracle being worked here, well, what could I add to what Verdi has written?

Et ab hoedis me sequestra,
statuens in parte dextra.

And from the goats keep me separate,
placing me at Thy right hand.

Giuseppe di Stefano (t); NBC Symphony, Arturo Toscanini, cond. [Final miracle: 0:53]
Beniamino Gigli (t); Rome Opera, Tullio Serafin, cond. [Final miracle: 0:55]
Luciano Pavarotti (t); Vienna Philharmonic, Georg Solti, cond. [Final miracle: 1:01]
Jussi Bjoerling (t); Vienna Philharmonic, Fritz Reiner, cond. [Final miracle: 1:11]


NOW LET'S PUT IT BACK TOGETHER

In addition to putting the recordings back together again, I've put them back in order: Gigli-Serafin (1939), di Stefano-Toscanini (1951), Bjoerling-Reiner (1959), Pavarotti-Solti (1967).

VERDI: Requiem: Dies Irae: No. 7, "Ingemisco"

Beniamino Gigli (t); Rome Opera Orchestra, Tullio Serafin, cond. EMI, recorded 1939
Giuseppe di Stefano (t); NBC Symphony Orchestra, Arturo Toscanini, cond. RCA, recorded live, Jan. 27, 1951
Jussi Bjoerling (t); Vienna Philharmonic, Fritz Reiner, cond. RCA/Decca, recorded 1959
Luciano Pavarotti (t); Vienna Philharmonic, Georg Solti, cond. Decca, recorded October 1967


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