Word: vocalized
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Fausto Cleva, not the Met's liveliest conductor, this time set his singers a brisk pace, never permitted any sagging in the supple vocal line that Verdi skillfully stitched through Arrigo Boito's libretto. As Othello, Tenor Mario del Monaco sailed onstage in full joyous shout in his "Esultate," and from there on through his Act III explosion of jealous rage, never pausing to be subtle, kept the house ringing and the stage dark with passion. Baritone Leonard Warren as lago proved again his ability to soar dramatically or modulate to a mahogany pianissimo, invested his role with...
...Leos (Jenufa) Janacek and Hungary's Bela Bartok. Strongly rhythmic, it combined rich Slovakian folk flavor with pungently powerful orchestration. In Katrena's lament over her fate, strikingly sung by Soprano Anny Schlemm, and in Ondrej's affecting admission of guilt, Suchon provided crowd-rousing vocal high points that might well place The Vortex in the standard operatic literature...
...Amonasro-which might well have overpowered her. Tentative at first, Singer Davy warmed up as the evening progressed, sang her low tones with a throaty richness, her upper ones with limpid, free-flowing clarity. Her O patria mia was a triumph of yearning beauty. She lacked the sheer vocal force to carry over Baum's bellowing and Warren's thunderous tones, but she matched the acting of the veteran cast with a touchingly natural performance. All in all, Soprano Davy proved that the Met is where she belongs...
Life has treated Hartack at least as well as vice versa, and his only vocal complaint is that a lot of people, including sportswriters, call him Willie, a name he detests; he prefers Bill, and the girls all call him Bill. His followers have a complaint as well. Too many people stake their cash on his talent, so the odds on a Hartack-ridden horse almost always take a dive before the field gets into the starting gate. This even Hartack deplores. "Every time I ride a horse that's a legitimate 4-toi shot," says he without unseemly modesty...
...some wonderfully complex naked drum accompaniments, Singer Bennett launches his husky, finely pitched voice into an assortment of old favorites, makes them sound as strange and freshly minted as though they were written yesterday. The nervous, shifty-tempoed title song alone makes this one of the most intriguing vocal albums in months...