|
|
Giovanni Martinelli
|
     | |||
| The name Giovanni Martinelli ranks amongst the greatest tenors of the century, although he cannot be easily likened, in terms of vocal timbre, to his peers.
He did not possess the 'honeyed' tone of Gigli, nor the robust baritonal quality of Caruso and he lacked Schipa's wide spectrum of vocal colours.
Surprising though it may seem, however, it is to the haunting artistry of Martinelli that one returns time and again, perhaps even in preference to his distinguished contemporaries.
His musical career began in an army band, as a clarinettist. On the recommendation of the bandmaster, he began to study singing, and went to Milan, where, with the financial assistance of a theatrical agent he was able to afford lessons. On 29th December 1910 he made his début at the Teatro dal Verme, Milan, as Verdi's Ernani. Word spread fast about the new discovery, and by 1911 he had appeared in Ancona, Rome, Brescia, Turin and Naples. His first appearances outside Italy were during 1912, at Monte Carlo (La Fanciulla del West), and London (Tosca, Aida, Manon Lescaut and Fanciulla once again). In 1913 he was invited to join the Metropolitan Opera, New York, and for the next thirty years this became his artistic home, as with so many other Italian singers. However, to Martinelli belongs the record number of performances given by a leading tenor with the Met.: 883 in all. After Caruso's death in 1921, Martinelli assumed many of his dramatic roles, including Samson and Eléazar (La Juive), and appeared in the Met. premières of Simon Boccanegra, Eugène Onegin, Oberon, Don Carlos and I Gioielli della Madonna. The less dramatic roles he shared with the lyric tenors, Gigli and Lauri-Volpi. In between seasons at the Met., he performed regularly with the Chicago, San Francisco and Buenos Aires Operas, as well as making frequent concert tours throughout America, and appearing in European opera houses. Two thousand of his four thousand five hundred performances were in Verdi roles, and he can without doubt be described as that composer's foremost tenor interpreter of the day. On 20th March1938 the Met. celebrated Martinelli's silver jubilee with the company by staging a special concert featuring many of its greatest stars. This by no means signalled an imminent retirement: he continued to appear with the company until 24th March 1946, when his last performance included a scene from One of the first records which Martinelli made for the Victor Company is Rodolfo's aria from Act 1 of La Bohème, 'Che Gelida manina.' Recorded just a few weeks after his Met. début in the same role, this youthful interpretation is often considered superior to the later, electric version. He did not perform the role of Enzo (La Gioconda) until the 1930s but this rare recording of 'Cielo e mar' from 1914 displays his early grasp of the aria's technical demands, his effortless command of the upper voice and assured legato. Similarly, his treatment of 'Celeste Aida' gives an indication of the young singer's remarkable accomplishment: from the delicate control of his finely spun mezza voce through to the full-blooded heroism of the climax, Martinelli shows an ease of approach which is deceptive in such a taxing aria. It comes as no surprise to learn that Radames was to become his most frequently performed role. His early success in the role of Canio (Pagliacci) is well illustrated by the 1914 recording of 'Vesti la giubba,' a performance which can without exaggeration be ranked alongside that of Caruso in terms of passionate potency. Caruso himself was well impressed by the young tenor's capacity, and passed on to him his own costume for the role. The 1915 recordings of the two arias from Il Trovatore coincided with the same opera's revival at the Met. under the auspices of Toscanini. His insistence on extensive rehearsals with the full cast, more than fifty sessions in all, is perhaps in part responsible for Martinelli's confident treatment of Manrico's arias in the recording room: the mellifluous lyricism of 'Ah sì, ben mio' is followed by the rousing splendour and drama 'Di quella pira.' In 1923 the Met. mounted a production of Rossini's Guglielmo Tell, having found at last in Martinelli a tenor capable of sustaining the consistently high tessitura demanded by the role of Arnold. The duet and trio, however, reveal a profound understanding of the character's proud and passionate nature which far outweighs the simple quality of vocal stamina. The love duet from Madama Butterfly features the fine New Zealand soprano, Frances Alda, and the exquisite blend of the two voices is matched by refined legato phrasing and poignant sensitivity. Martinelli is joined in another duet, this time from Don Carlos, by the distinguished baritone Giuseppe de Luca. The measured, stately pace at which the two singers perform 'Dio, che nell' alma,' may strike the modern listener as alien; yet it was Martinelli and de Luca who appeared together at the Met. première of Don Carlos, which perhaps lends their subsequent recording an element of authenticity in terms of style and tempo. At any event this is one of the finest duets written for tenor and baritone, and both singers perform with immaculate musicality and achieve a perfect vocal blend. Martinelli's non-operatic repertoire is represented on this disc by three songs: the popular 'Ideale' by Tosti, a rarely heard 'Serenata' by Mascagni, in which the tenor employs his well-controlled mezza voce to perfection, and finally the patriotic 'Giovinezza' performed with flamboyant panache and personal commitment. The earliest recordings of Martinelli, made for the Victor Company in America (1913-14), display a robust, youthful tenor, perhaps lacking a little in colour, but full-bodied and stentorian, and with no fear of the top register. From 1915 onwards one can begin to sense that the artist has matured: he had received coaching from two of the world's leading operatic conductors, Tullio Serafin and Arturo Toscanini, which left him, as the records clearly demonstrate, an immaculate legato and sense of phrase. The drama of his trumpet-like upper register was never lost, but combined in his artistic prime with confident poise and a subtle use of vocal shading. It is an instantly recognisable voice, firm, declamatory, noble and resonant. |
|
| All rights of the producer and of the owner of the recorded work reserved. Unauthorised copying, public performance and broadcasting of this recording prohibited. |