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Leonard Warren (1911 - 1960)Note by Alan Bilgora |
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"Leonard Warren was the great Verdi baritone of our times ... Lord Byron said of the fabled Shakespearean actor Edmund Kean that seeing him was one of the great consolations, and that was Leonard Warren’ Tony Randall, from the foreword to the biography by Mary Jane Phillips-Matz. What ever subjective effect the voice of Leonard Warren had or has on the listener, whether live or on record, there can be no doubt that in his era, like Lawrence Tibbett his immediate predecessor, Warren occupied a special place in the pantheon of American opera singers. In spite of serious competition from other great baritone voices active then, such as Francesco Valentino, Richard Bonelli, Robert Weede, Igor Gorin, Robert Merrill and Donald Dixon, Warren was to the opera going public at the Metropolitan Opera, New York ‘the King’. Born on Friday, 21 April 1911, Leonard was the eldest of three children born to Russian Jewish émigrés Solomon Warenoff and his wife Sara. The family had been furriers for generations and though they may not have wanted Leonard to make singing a career, they certainly encouraged a love of music in him and his younger brother Martin; a tenor who achieved success as a song promoter for a music publisher. His sister Vivian, always a ‘number one’ fan of her brother, was later a vital source of encouragement and information for his biography. Language, traditions and culture brought from Russia played an important part in Warren’s development as an artist, and although he later adopted his wife’s Catholicism, his earlier background left an indelible mark on his interpretations as an opera singer. At his Barmitzvah the 13 year-old Warren sang from the sacred scrolls and revealed an exceptional voice. Family members urged that he be given singing lessons and he was enrolled at Greenwich House Music School where his first formal voice lessons were given by Will J. Stone. Warren was a laid-back student who enjoyed sports and never learned to read music well. He was not considered a good sight-reader or musician. In order to join his father’s business he took courses in finance, but was unhappy in the world of commerce. He kept up his singing lessons, although at times uncertain about the direction he was headed; one teacher even tried to convince him that he might be a tenor. In 1932 New York’s Radio City Musical Hall opened its huge 6,200-seat hall, where Warren heard the great Italian baritone Titta Ruffo (1877-1953) and found the inspiration to pursue his own singing career. An influential member of the family secured a feature ‘spot’ on the local New York City radio station WOR, which gave young artists exposure to a fairly wide listening public - Jan Peerce and Richard Tucker also appeared. By the summer of 1934 he was appearing at the ‘Fairmont’, a prestigious hotel in Tannersville in the Catskills and a once popular Jewish holiday resort outside New York. Engagements here also proved a stepping-stone in the careers of Robert Merrill, Jan Peerce, Richard Tucker and countless other well-known Jewish entertainers. In 1935, also at Radio City Music Hall, after hearing Robert Weede sing (Robert Wiedefeld 1903-1972) Warren gave an audition and was accepted - but only as a chorus member. Somewhat frustrated he eventually found his first important teacher, Sydney Dietch, who was not over impressed but found the voice of good basic material. When interviewed many years later, Dietch remarked how surprised and delighted he was that Warren’s hard work developed such a weighty, thrilling tone, and such a spectacular high register. The adult Warren became a very private person, but occasionally, at parties and goaded on by his friends, he would sing arias which included a top C that was the envy of many a tenor colleague. Encouraged by his progress, Warren applied to the Metropolitan Opera Auditions of the Air 1937/38 season. Over the years this programme had acted as a launching point for some of America’s favourite singers. His was a fairy-tale audition. Wilfred Pelletier one of the Met’s eminent conductors and a member of the judging panel, hearing the voice over loudspeakers, rushed into the auditorium to make sure that no one was playing a joke on them. He perhaps suspected someone had put on a recording of one of the city’s famous baritones - Giuseppe de Luca. Instead they saw a young man nearly six feet tall with a huge head and massive torso supported on rather spindly legs. Warren was immediately awarded a contract, and sent to Milan to be coached by Riccardo Picozzi. In seven months he learned five roles, Germont, di Luna, Ford, Tonio and what would be his debut role, that of Paolo Albiani in Simone Boccanegra. Not an easy task for a man who read music with difficulty. In Italy Warren met Agatha Leifflen who was studying voice on a scholarship from the Julliard School. They would eventually marry in 1941, Warren seemingly quite content to put his own ethnic and religious convictions in second place to his wife’s Catholicism. Warren was first presented at the Metropolitan during the Sunday night concerts in 1938. On 4 December, in costume, he sang excerpts from Rigoletto. The Metropolitan’s regime under manager Edward Johnson acted sensibly to protect Warren’s young voice by not rushing him into major roles. On 13 January 1939 Warren made his formal debut in Simone Boccanegra as Paolo Albiani. Paul Jackson in his monumental analysis of broadcast performances in Saturday Afternoons at the Old Met commented that Warren’s, ‘superbly resonant instrument more than held its own among the grand sonorities of Tibbett as the Doge, Giovanni Martinelli as Gabriele Adorno, Maria Caniglia as Amelia and Ezio Pinza as Jacopo Fiesco’. For once the malicious Paolo was a credible rival for the powerful Doge. In that first season he also sang Tchelkalov and Rangoni in Boris Godunov and during the next couple of seasons other roles followed like Valentin in Faust; here again Paul Jackson remarked that ‘as sheer vocalism the aria is splendid, the phrasing noble, the rich tones mounting with absolute ease to the top G’s ... he manages to easily float his tone and introduce a few subtleties. All this adds to his characterization ... the rapid growth which will propel Warren into star baritone orbit is already apparent’. He sang the Herald in Lohengrin, Escamillo in Carmen, Alfio in Cavallaria Rusticana, progressing to Amonasro in Aida and Barnaba in La Gioconda, and all in casts of the front rank where he gained vital theatrical experience. On 21 January 1941 he appeared as a high priest in the first production at the Metropolitan of Gluck’s Alceste, and later that year on 3 December as a high priest in Saint-Saëns Samson et Dalila. On 20 February 1942 he sang in the World première of Gian Carlo Menotti’s The Island God as Ilo, with Astrid Varnay singing Telea and Raoul Jobin as Luca. In the early 1940s Lawrence Tibbett’s vocal powers began their sad decline, and it was Warren who would take over his roles. On 11 December 1942 he sang Henry Ashton in Lucia di Lammermoor with the French coloratura soprano Lily Pons (1898-1976) and Jan Peerce as Edgardo. On 11 February 1943 he substituted for Tibbett as Don Carlo in La Forza del Destino, with Milanov as Leonora and Kurt Baum as Alvaro. On the following 7 March he sang his first Tonio in Pagliacci, and on 17 December, (having sung Renato in Un Ballo in Maschera the previous evening) he deputised for an ailing Tibbett as Rigoletto. It was Warren’s first assumption of the complete role. Even though he was now firmly established as the premier baritone at the Metropolitan Opera Warren at this time sought out the veteran Italian, Giuseppe de Luca (1876-1950). This great stylist and technically accomplished singer, who had created a number of famous roles, helped Warren take a new approach to his art both on stage and on the concert platform. As with many other fine singers he learnt his roles rather slowly, but assiduously, by rote and with the help of a good ear. And having thus absorbed the notes the hard way he was not readily able to change the way he sang. The lessons learnt from De Luca helped Warren to consolidate his interpretations, but were also the reason for dissent with certain well-known conductors. Occasionally heated arguments would occur and Warren, who was by nature a retiring man who researched and constantly reworked his roles, gained the unfair reputation of being a difficult colleague. He had become a true ‘star’, and when Hollywood beckoned in 1944 with a bio-pic of the song writer Ernest. R. Ball (Irish eyes are Smiling) Warren made his screen debut as a turn-of the century opera singer. He was also making his first guest appearances with the San Francisco Opera (1943-1956) singing initially the High priest in Samson et Dalila, and subsequently in Aida, Lucia di Lammermoor, Un Ballo in Maschera. Of his performance in La Gioconda, Arthur Bloomfield commented in his book that while he thought ‘the cast not thoroughly ideal ... certainly the individual timbre and soaring line of Warren’s Barnaba were remarkable’. During his career Warren sang at the Chicago Opera, (1944-1946) and performed a number of his favourite roles with the New Orleans Opera Association, Kansas City Philharmonic Association, Connecticut Opera, San Antonio Opera, Cincinnati Summer Opera, Robin Hood Dell (Philadelphia) Tulsa Opera, Pittsburgh Opera and New York City Opera (Detroit), in all giving some 87 performances with these various organizations. Warren’s International career thus far had witnessed appearances in Argentina, Brazil, Säo Paulo, Havana and Mexico City, mostly in the company of his Metropolitan colleagues, but occasionally supported by local principal artists. Then on 16 December 1953 he finally made his debut at La Scala, Milan singing Rigoletto with Giuseppe di Stefano as the Duke and Rosanna Cateri as Gilda. His second appearance there, on 7 January 1954, was as Iago in Otello, to the Moor of Mario del Monaco with Renata Tebaldi as Desdemona. On 23 November 1956 Warren sang in Verdi’s Ernani for the first time with a cast that again included such luminaries as Mario del Monaco, Zinka Milanov and Cesare Siepi. Paul Henry Lang of The New York Herald wrote a review that confirms Warren’s status as a performer who could stand comparison with the greatest; ‘The principal role in Ernani belongs to the baritone. In Leonard Warren, Charles V (Carlo) the Holy Roman Emperor came to life with truly imperial splendour. Everyone knows that Mr. Warren can portray all the manly virtues with appropriately glorious vocalism, but those who listened attentively when he sang his quiet cavatina in the second act must have realized the full measure of this great artist’s capabilities’. In his foreword to Warren’s biography, the actor Tony Randall, (a devotee and expert on vocal art), wrote of his attendance at a recorded broadcast performance of Ernani on 29 December; ‘His opening arietta is simply overwhelming in its power, beauty, and tenderness. In the second act, his aria Vieni Meco is heart stopping: the deeply felt pathos, the love, the exquisite musicality spun endlessly. The entire aria is sung piano. He did not sing it to the audience, he turned and sang it to Milanov, who was a little upstage of him, I will remember it till I die’. Recordings had made Warren famous across the globe and in 1958 he was invited to tour the Soviet Union. He sang Rigoletto at the Bolshoi in Moscow and in Kiev, and Iago in Otello in Riga, Latvia, where he was supported by eminent local artists. He also gave a number of recitals that, with little or no advance publicity, sold out solely by word of mouth. And when it was eventually revealed that his family had originally emigrated from Russia Warren was féted all the more. Warren added another important Verdi role to his repertoire on 5 February 1959 at the Metropolitan, appearing in the title role of the house première of Macbeth. Leonie Rysanek (in a part originally planned for Maria Callas), sang the role of Lady Macbeth 'radiantly', Bergonzi was a lyrical Macduff and as Howard Taubmann of the New York Times wrote; ‘Leonard Warren evokes the troubled, terrified Macbeth with subtle authority; as is his habit he sings with subtle art’. Throughout that season he was heard in a number of his familiar roles and was studying the score of Verdi’s Nabucco for a planned production the following year. In the summer of 1959 Warren and Agatha spent a long period in Rome whilst he was recording Il Trovotore with Leontyne Price, Richard Tucker, Rosalind Elias and Giorgio Tozzi, and on 10 September he and his wife were granted a private audience with Pope John XXIII. Through the efforts of Francis Cardinal Spellman, the Archbishop of New York, Leonard Warren was inducted into the Equestrian Order of Knights of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, becoming a Knight Commander. Warren sang his last complete opera, which was Simone Boccanegra, on 1 March 1960. Winthrop Sargeant, of the The New Yorker wrote of the performance; ‘Mr Warren sang the role of Simon with the nobility, the aristocratic style and the profound dedication that characterized all his interpretations at the Metropolitan during the past two decades, in which he shone as one of the most memorable stars in its history, and as the finest Verdi baritone of the era’. On 4 March he was singing Don Carlo in La Forza del Destino alongside of some of his closest colleagues. Richard Tucker was Alvaro, the enormously popular soprano Renata Tebaldi, in her first appearance that season, was Leonora, the leading American bass Jerome Hines sang Padre Guardiano, and the veteran baritone Salvatore Baccaloni was Fra Melitone. Warren was in great form. In Act III after creating a fine effect with his singing of the big baritone aria Urna fatale which begins with the prophetic words Morrir! tremenda cosa! (To die what a momentous thing) he was acknowledging the enthusiastic response when tragedy struck. His biography, written many years later, gives various versions of what happened. However in a splendid obituary which appeared the following week Time Magazine, with its usual concise reporting style, summed up the event, ‘holding in one hand a portrait of Leonora he started to make his exit ... only a few feet short of the wings, the picture fell from his hand, and Warren pitched forward on his face and lay still. Richard Tucker who had been standing in the wings joking with the General Manger, Rudolf Bing and Warrens’ wife Agatha had just commented "what a glorious voice" when the voice stopped and he turned to see Warren on the floor. He ran on stage as the curtain fell, crying "Lennie, Lennie what is it? Get back to yourself!" While Ossie Hawkins, (a supporting house baritone), attempted mouth-to-mouth respiration the Met’s house physician sent for oxygen from the first aid room. Out front Bing assured the audience that the performance would go on after intermission. Baritone Mario Sereni was called as a substitute, but when the audience filed back at the warning buzzer half an hour later, a spotlight hit the curtain and Bing stepped out again. "This" he began slowly "is one of the saddest nights ... I ask you to rise in memory of one of our greatest performers, who died as I am sure he would have wanted to die - in the middle of one of his greatest performances. I am sure you will agree that it would not be possible to continue with the performance". Many in the audience wept. Crowding round the stage door later they still seemed unable to believe that, at 48, Leonard Warren was dead of a cerebral haemorrhage.’ It was revealed later, that Warren had been suffering from high blood pressure for some time and the true cause of his death was a massive heart attack. Leonard Warren, who knew no German or French and never sang Mozart, was nonetheless the mainstay of the Italian baritone wing at the Metropolitan from 1943 to 1960. During his 22 seasons with the company he sang some 607 performances, and in a career lasting just over two decades his operatic appearances totalled well over 800. Besides his stage roles also gave countless concerts with orchestra and recital tours with piano, where he demonstrated his eclectic musical tastes. Favourite operatic arias were always included, but Warren enjoyed just as much to entertain his audiences with classical art-song, ballads, spirituals and American folk songs. It is often said that physical beauty is in ‘the eye of the beholder’ and likewise the effect of the human voice on an individual must surely also be personally subjective. To his legion of admirers Leonard Warren had a beautiful voice, and all those who heard him in the theatre and on record readily admitted that it was tremendously impressive. He possessed an extremely dark, virile and weighty central register that was still malleable and able to move up with consummate ease through the passaggio to his remarkable upper extension. His attack on top notes and the ability to sustain them, coupled with a fine legato and informed phrasing, provided him with the ideal voice for the high dramatic baritone roles in Verdi operas. What is surprising is the way he manages to scale down his voice for the Sea Shanties, Kipling songs and American ballads that featured in his concert programmes. It is here, without the constraints of operatic convention, that a listener most readily appreciates his communicative abilities. For this CD compilation Prima Voce has transferred a number of his most outstanding operatic recordings, ably supported by some of his colleagues at the Metropolitan, together with a selection of songs, which catch him in his absolute vocal prime. © 2007, Alan Bilgora Bibliography: W.H Seltsam: Metropolitan Opera Annals (H W Wilson Co. New York 1938-1960) Quaintance Eaton: Opera Caravan (John Calder, London 1957) Mary Ellis Peltz: Behind the Gold Curtain (Farrar Strauss & Co., New York 1950) Ronald L. Davis: Opera in Chicago (Appleton-Century, New York 1966) Arthur Bloomfield: 50 Years of the San Francisco Opera (San Francisco Book Co.,1972) David Hamilaton: Metroplitan Opera Encyclopedia (Simon & Schuster, New York 1987) Eldred A. Thierstein: Cincinatti Opera (Deerstone Books, Michigan 1995) Paul Jackson: Saturday Afternoons at the Old Met (Amadeus Press, Oregan 1997) Peter G.Davis: The American Opera singer (Doubleday, New York 1997) Mary Jane Phillips-Matz: Leonard Warren American Baritone (Amadeus Press, Oregan 2000) V.E.Villamil: From Johnson’s Kids to Lemonade Opera (Northeastern University Press 2004) K. Wlaschin: Opera on Film (Yale University Press, New Haven 2004) |
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