Track Listing

1. Se Un Mio Desir
2. Ira Del Ciel
3. Cari Giorni
4. Infelice
5. Yo Que Soy Contrabandista
6. Ah! Non Credea Mirarti
7. Ah! Non
8. Air A La Tirolienne Avec Variations
9. E Non Lo Vedo
10. Rataplan
11. Dopo Tante E Tante Pene
12. O Rendetemi La Speme
13. Vien, Diletto
14. Come Dolce A Me Favelli
15. Scorrete, O Lagrime
16. Prendi, Per Me Sei Libero
17. Casta Diva

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #17186 in Music
• Released on: 2006-10-10
• Number of discs: 1
• Format: Limited Edition

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Customer Reviews

I DON'T GET IT
We should all be glad that Cecilia Bartoli has such clout in the world of classical music, because without it, we wouldn't have such interesting recordings as this one or her earlier Salieri album. Here she explores repertoire associated with the legendary 19th-century singer Maria Malibran (terms such as soprano and mezzo-soprano weren't as rigorously applied then as they are now; scholars surmise that she was basically a mezzo with a freakishly high extension that enabled her to tackle many of what today are considered soprano roles.) I suppose the implication is that Ms. Bartoli is today's equivalent of Malibran, but I think not.

I've never understood the Bartoli phenomenon. Lord knows enough knowledgeable people are in awe of her talent--I remember one vocal authority, after hearing one of her first recitals, declared her to be "a perfect singer." I never heard her live (maybe that's the only way to appreciate her gifts), but I remember the first time I heard one of her recordings on the radio. Not knowing who was singing, I was curious as to just who it was who had such a strange-sounding voice and technique. I was shocked to learn that it was this supposedly "perfect" singer.

For starters, her voice, to my ear, is not beautiful or sensuous. It often exhibits a guttural, almost shrill tone that makes her sound old and which I find grating. She's an attractive woman, but when she sings (as is painfully obvious in her video performances), she grimaces and contorts her mouth in a most unattractive and distracting manner. I also find her emotional range to be limited. She seems to have two modes: a soft, admittedly beautiful, legato that seems to indicate quiet introspection; and a breathy declamation that connotes agitated distress. In the Mad Scene from "I Puritani," for example, I hear no sadness in what must be the most heart-breaking set piece Bellini ever composed. And her coloratura!--It sounds like a cross between gargling and hiccoughs. Unfortunately, for the repertoire she most frequently performs, coloratura facility is a requirement. (I was once at a book signing for Dame Joan Sutherland, who was asked her opinion of Bartoli. She tried to be tactful, but said, "I must say her coloratura production sounds very strange. It will be interesting to see how long she's around." Well, Bartoli is obviously still around, but she also still has that strangely cackling coloratura sound.) One wonders why no teacher or coach ever told her not to aspirate each note so strongly. I suppose we should be grateful that when she essays the legendary aria "Casta Diva" from Bellini's "Norma," she does not include the cabaletta--which is, after all, half the aria.

Bartoli does offer a generous selection of obscure and rarely heard selections. It is no surprise that the disc includes eight "world premiere" recordings--as phenomenal as Malibran was, virtually no major operatic role was composed specifically for her by any composer held in esteem today; the closest she came was when Bellini made a special mezzo arrangement of "La Sonnambula" for her, an arrangement she never got to sing (although Frederica von Stade did perform it several decades back). As for the bulky book that is bound with the disc, it has shamelessly been designed to look like a perfume ad from Vanity Fair; I'm surprised she isn't sporting her Rolex watch on the cover. For a thorough grounding in the facts of Malibran's life, one would do better to dig up a copy of Howard Bushnell's "Maria Malibran: A Biography of the Singer" (now unfortunately out of print, but available in libraries).

Quite a few years ago, near the beginning of her career, Marilyn Horne recorded a remarkable two-LP set called "Souvenir of a Golden Era," in which she paid tribute to Malibran and her sister, the almost equally famous mezzo Pauline Viardot. None of that recording's repertoire overlaps with Bartoli's disc (although it includes "Bel raggio" from "Semiramide," which Bartoli recorded on her "Rossini Heroines" disc), but I frankly don't find Bartoli's instrument to be in the same league as Horne's. Too bad Decca has never released the earlier recording complete on CD. I think that would give us a better notion of what Malibran might have sounded like.

Great presentation; less than great singing
Had Malibran's father, the famous singer and teacher Garcia, heard the singing on this album from a contemporary diva, he would undoubtedly have enrolled her in a rigorous and extended remedial singing course.

Bartoli's fioriture is entirely devoid of legato - each note is separated from the other in the percusive style of a piano. Of course, this defect has been present in Bartoli's singing from the beginning of her career, but it has worsened over the years until it is almost a characature of coloratura singing. Compare Bartoli's treatment of fioriture with almost any contemporary world-class mezzo -- Larmore, Podles, Kasarova, Graham, von Otter -- and the deficiency of Bartoli's technique is glaringly apparent. (On the other hand, Bartoli has acquired an important accomplishment that few of her contemporaries possess: a lovely trill, which is apparent in the very first track of the album).

The voice itslf has largely retained its rich, deep timbre and range of contrasting expressive colors, at least in the lower two-thirds of its compass. However, Bartoli has altered the "mix" in the upper third of her voice (presumably to enable her to more easily navigate the higher tessitura of soprano roles). As a result, the sound of her upper register, while still attractive, is no longer "of a piece" with the rest of the voice; she has gained the ability to sustain a higher tessitura at the expense of color and depth. Moreover, when she presses the upper notes, they take on a frazzled, pressured quality marred by an intrusive fast vibrato.

Partially offsetting these technical limitations is a considerable group of virtues: Bartoli's interpretive verve, expressive variety (each piece is conceived anew), her taste in ornamentation, and her sensitive treatment of sustained lines. When these qualities are in the forefront (as they often are for several minutes at a time during the course of this recital), the concept of the CD as a tribute to one of the greatest bel canto singers of the 19th century is at least reasonably plausible.

Decca deserves high praise for giving this project the deluxe treatment. The hardcover book is sumptuously illustrated and carefully researched, the program is interesting and varied, the conducting and choral work are first-rate. More the pity that the centerpiece of the whole production --Bartoli's singing -- only intermittently evokes the artistry of the famed Maria Malibran.

Great performance
Cecilia Bartoli CD is one of the best I own, I would recomended to anyone without thinking