Brooklyn Discovery

The elegant JW Marriott Essex House in New York City was the scene of the annual Opera Index Spring Lunch on Sunday, April 29th, honoring much-loved patron, humanitarian and philanthropist Karl Michaelis. After greetings and “thumbs up” to so many friends and familiar faces, the effervescent President, Jane Shaulis who is THE Jane Shaulis Metropolitan Opera mezzo soprano, sang the opening welcome. It literally “brought down the house” as voices quieted and expectations ran high. In her introductory remarks, Ms. Shaulis eagerly shared the monies collected over the years and the great help it was for so many young and gifted singers. Three talented artists provided the grand entertainment followed by a delicious lunch. All the young artists were accompanied by Michael Fennelly, whose pianistic virtuosity conjures up a full orchestra and gives both reassurance and pleasure.

Kathryn Henry, soprano was the first, singing “Je dis que rien ne m’épouvante” from Bizet’s Carmen. She sang with power and precision, good breath control, poignant French and evoked Micaela’s basic goodness. Geraldine Farrar and Rosa Ponselle, great sopranos were challenged by Carmen, Farrar made Carmen a silent film hit with Cecil B. DeMille and roughed up Enrico Caruso, her Don Jose and some choristers when she returned to the Met Opera. (Hollywood influence) Ponselle, smarting from some critics’ opinions, retired from opera in 1937. Ponselle was struck by the “Curse of Carmen” breaking her arm during a performance in Baltimore. Ms. Ponselle’s filmed Hollywood screen test survives (1938), ironically with the great soprano doing some exciting singing and dancing. Ms. Henry need not worry, her voice rang free and clear. Her encore later on was, “It never was you” from Kurt Weil’s “Knickerbocker Holiday.” It was a captivating Broadway song with wistful and beguiling tone and Ms. Henry sang it beautifully. Kathleen Henry is a charming singer with a beautiful voice and a kilowatt smile. All of this was part of her satisfying presentation as a young artist as George Gershwin would say or Georges Guétary in the film An American in Paris “on her way to the stairway to paradise.”

Michele Angelini has grown in name and fame but is still “a wonderful guy” in his friendliness and personal charm. He sang “Ah mes amis” from La fille du Regiment by Donizetti. This aria, with its 9 high C’s, catapulted Luciano Pavarotti to fame. Michele Angelini is very secure in the upper register and each note was hit securely. He did not sound like the usual bleaty tenor giving us a lemon tart but rather like a master baker with a great pizza in fact 9 of them! His middle register has grown in size and I see a Duke and other great Verdi roles in the future. He gave us all a shot of adrenalin and we look forward to a very promising future for this outstanding tenor.

Soprano Michelle Bradley recently appeared at the Met Opera’s Norma as Clotilde and will soon appear as Donna Anna in Mozart’s Don Giovanni in Santiago, Chile. Ms. Bradley, a Houston native, opened with “D’amor sull ali rosee” from Verdi’s Il Trovatore. Her powerful voice was lowered for some wonderful soft passages and to show what she took away some small refinement. Ponselle and Milanov had perhaps finer pianissimi but Ms. Bradley has her own way of following the operatic highway and she articulates the speed bumps full drive rather than slowing down. Her soprano is rich and opera worthy and she will be a formidable contender for “whose the best” in the not too distant future.

I heard the divine contralto Marian Anderson sing “He’s Got the Whole World in his Hands” at the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM) circa 1966 at her “Farewell.” Backstage she gave me a souvenir program signed by her to my students at P.S. 129 in Bedford-Stuyvesant in Brooklyn. I still recall the nuance and shades of tenderness with which she lovingly sang the lyrics. Michelle Bradley awakened that immortal memory for me with her passionate encore, “He’s got the whole world in his hands.” Her soaring soprano took us all “in her hands and heart” as she literally loved us all in this illuminated text of love. Ms. Bradley’s heavenly highs and burnished lows took us on a trip to paradise. A full concert of of spirituals or a series of encores should be a part of her magical bag of gifts!

It was nice to have mezzo soprano Rihab Chaieb so brilliantly sing “The Composer’s Aria” from Richard Strauss Ariadne auf Naxos. Rihab Chaieb was one of Opera Index’s major award winners in the 2016 competition. She did performances in Cavalleria Rusticana, Louisa Millerand the Sandman in Hansel and Gretel at the Met this last season. She will sing Zerlina in Don Giovanni next season. She had a success at Glyndebourne last summer.

Former President and current Treasurer Murray Rosenthal, introduced Karl Michaelis whose work with the Gerda Lissner Foundation, Liederkranz Foundation and Opera Index, have made him like Charles Dickens the voice of Christmas present. He is a philanthropic, kindly, humane man with a fine manner, elegant apparel and a good sense of humor. Karl Michaelis is well deserving of this token of our great esteem. Karl said he was “happy to support the wonderful Opera Index” and stepped down to a fine Tiffany glass apple gift and much applause.

It was nice to meet and greet President Jane Shaulis and Executive Director Joe Gasperec, Vice Presidents Phillip Hagemann and Janet Stovin, Treasurer Murray Rosenthal, Opera Index board members Robert Steiner, John David Metcalfe, Midge Woolsey, Opera Index patrons Jessie Walker and Doris Keeley, the genial Michael Fornabaio and energetic Cornelia Beigel from the Gerda Lissner Foundation, Gloria Gari from the Giulio Gari Foundation, Philipp Haberbauer from the Liederkranz Foundation, Maestro Eve Queler, opera managers Ken Benson and Robert Lombardo, vocal coach Tamie Laurance, Italian teacher Corradina Caporello and husband Maurice, opera legends sopranos Lucine Amara, Elinor Ross and sparkling New York City Opera and television soprano Elaine Malbin. Other familiar faces in the crowd were virtuoso Chopin pianist Marjan Kiepura and his lovely wife Jane, conductor Stephen Phebus and actress Linda Howes, Joy Ferro from Daniel Ferro Vocal Program, the elegant patron and tenor Cesare Santeramo, David Bender from Career Bridges, Edna Greenwich Director of Operaexposures, classy Michèle Classe, export consultant and husband Anthony and innovative filmmaker Marcelo Remizov.

We are all friends at Opera Index and were eager and happy to “seize the moment.” Thank you Jane Shaulis and Joseph Gasperec for sharing the beauty of another memorable event together.

A book review by Nino Pantano

Commendatore Aldo Mancusi who is the founder and curator of the Enrico Caruso Museum in Brooklyn has added his book with the assistance of author and Vice President of the museum, David Mercaldo, PhD. Many have profiled the great tenor since his tragic and untimely death at age 48, in Naples, Italy on August 2, 1921. The book is dedicated to the memory of Michael Sisca, who with his father Marziale Sisca, provided so much memorabilia to the Enrico Caruso Museum. Marziale’s brother, Alessandro Sisca wrote the lyrics to “Core ‘ngrato” (“Ungrateful Heart”) using the name Riccardo Cordiferro. Enrico Caruso, a splendid caricaturist, drew caricatures free for “La Follia di New York” as a favor to his friend Marziale Sisca, the Editor and his son Michael Sisca.

The book contains many caricatures drawn by Enrico Caruso and many personal conversations held with Michael that are first hand memories of Caruso the man. Pictures of busts, death masks, letters, records, phonograph horns, jewelry, ties, Caruso’s black and white shoes, documents, silverware, canes, phonographs, cylinders, recordings, an opera piano and a movie theatre that shows his silent film My Cousin. (1918)

Michael Sisca, while a teenager, was present at Caruso’s last recording session in September 1920 and told me that the greatest of tenors, who just returned from a month long tour of Cuba and the United States, had the beginning of his final illness that day, in the form of a cold. His great recording of “Rachel, quand du seigneur” from La Juive, was sung under duress and one could hear Caruso breathing heavily near the golden finale. Sisca, a charming man, always spoke of his friend Caruso and remembers being in bed since it was nighttime during one of his father’s soirees. Enrico Caruso was there, Puccini, Toscanini and a total of thirteen distinguished guests. Caruso insisted they get Michael from bed to join them because thirteen was bad luck. So young Michael Sisca sat with Puccini, Caruso and Toscanini at that unforgettable dinner.

Members of the Caruso family from his first “wife” Ada Giachetti (Mistress) and his American bride Dorothy Park Benjamin, have visited the museum as well as Eric Murray, Gloria’s son and Caruso’s grandson and his charming wife Lynne. Eric, a wonderful gentleman, is a board member of the museum.

Aldo describes how he first became acquainted with the tenor through his father Evaristo who collected his recordings and his mother Marietta who possessed a lovely soprano voice. There is an original caricature of Caruso’s father Marcellino, donated by Andrew Farkas who wrote the book, “Enrico Caruso, My Father and My Family” with Enrico Caruso Jr. Mr. Farkas tells the story of Pierre V. R. Key, Caruso’s friend and biographer who saw Caruso weeping backstage after singing Canio in Pagliacci. The great tenor said, “Caruso is a damn fool. He feels too much!” There are pictures of the Enrico Caruso postage stamp. I met Enrico Caruso Jr. (1904-1987) at the Postage Stamp ceremony in the late 1980’s at The Metropolitan Opera House. We attended with friends the late Cuban-American baritone and Caruso aficionado Alfredo and his wife Audrey Villoldo. Enrico Caruso Jr. age 82 died a few weeks later (April 9, 1987) He too, was a lovely man – R.I.P!

On pages 86 and 87 are the richest and most poignant gift. It is the last photo taken of Caruso on July 19, 1921 in Sorrento, Italy where he went after partially recovering from his illness. (Lifting his robe and showing his still painful wounds in a photo for Dr. Antonio Stella in New York) A piece of scenery fell on him at the Metropolitan Opera during a performance of Samson on December 3, 1920. He had pains on his side but the house doctor, Dr. Horowitz said it was merely intercostal (between two ribs) neuralgia and taped him up. At the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM) in Elisir D’amore on December 11th, 1920, Enrico Caruso began bleeding from his throat and the audience begged him to stop. He collapsed backstage and Met Manager Gatti-Casazza said he had an apparition that this was the end. Surprisingly, Caruso sang three times more in great pain, at the Met that month.

On December 24th, 1920 Caruso sang Eleazar in La Juive. The photographer Mishkin impulsively took his picture backstage and that was Caruso’s last photo at the Met. That night, Caruso went to his apartment for Christmas supper and began screaming in pain. He was heard many floors below. The doctors operated on him several times, removing a rib, probing deep areas of infection and a lifesaving transfusion. After the transfusion Caruso asked, “Am I still Italian?” Straw was added to the streets below his apartment so that sounds of horse or car traffic would be silenced. Fifty pounds lighter Caruso, his bride Dorothy and baby Gloria sailed for Italy on The President Wilson on May 28, 1921 from Pier 7 in Brooklyn. He waved to the cheering crowds telling them he would come back “and sing, sing and sing!!!” This film footage still exists. Caruso spent a happy two months at the beautiful Grand Hotel Excelsior Vittoria in Sorrento, Italy. Friends took him on an exhausting tour of Pompeii and his late mother’s old doctor probed his wounds, possibly causing a relapse. Caruso sent a touching letter to Dr. Stella, who he remembered from New York telling him that he still had persistent pain in his side. He opened his robe for a photo of his wounds and sent them to Dr. Stella in America. Dr. Stella received the letter and photo the day after Caruso died. Caruso died on August 2, 1921 in the Hotel Vesuvio on the way to Naples for an operation. There is a caricature of Dr. Stella drawn by Caruso and a copy of his $15,850 dollar bill for the operation which was “shaved” of $850 at Caruso’s request donated to the Enrico Caruso Museum by Michael Sisca.

Aldo Mancusi received a copy of the letter and the photo, unexpectedly from a member of Dr. Stella’s family. They are mentioned in the book and it was very sad indeed. Penicillin, not yet discovered, would have saved him. But like Abraham Lincoln, Caruso died in his prime, no decline in his magnificent voice (Despite his heavy smoking of Egyptian cigarettes) and remains unsurpassed.

A few years ago in May 2011, Aldo Mancusi got a phone call from 92-year-old Dorothy Alleva from Brooklyn, NY telling Aldo that Enrico Caruso and his wife Dorothy were her godparents. Her parents, Ernesto and Micalina Alleva, owned a restaurant in Manhattan called Villa Manfredi. Caruso and Dorothy loved the restaurant and seeing that Micalina was pregnant said, “If it’s a girl and you name her Dorothy we will become her godparents – well, that is what happened. The baptism papers and photographs show it all. Even the beautiful dress that Dorothy Caruso purchased can be found at the Caruso Museum. Caruso was loved and that is only one small example of his kindness, generosity and largess.

Aldo’s museum, now thirty-five years old, evolved over time and when a tenant left, Aldo was able to use even more space and to give lectures. Artist Marguerite Celesia created a beautiful “sign in” book with Caruso as the Duke in Rigoletto on the front cover. I remember WQXR Opera radio host George Jellinek signing in. Aldo’s wonderful wife Lisa always supported and accompanied Mancusi to many Caruso areas in Naples where they befriended one and all. Many musical and political figures have attended the museum and Aldo Mancusi, like the great Caruso, is a “Commendatore” of the Italian Government. In 1997, former Mayor Rudolph Giuliani helped Aldo celebrate Enrico Caruso Day at Merkin Hall in New York City where a proclamation was given. Great grandson Riccardo Caruso sang a Caruso favorite “M’appari” from Martha by Frederich Von Flotow.

MetOpera tenor, Marcello Giordani, visited as did both Caruso families. Former Brooklyn Borough President, the ebullient Marty Markowitz listened to Caruso’s “Over There” at the museum with the former Italian Consul General Natalia Quintavalle.

New York City Opera bass and Brooklynite neighbor the late Don Yule and his wife artist Jaye Adams visited the old phonographs and recordings and found them  to be a great source of fascination. The mini-theatre is named after Michael Sisca and Met Opera soprano Licia Albanese. (1909-2014) Licia Albanese also contributed her Madama Butterfly costume and other items from the Metropolitan Opera. Chairs and old Met Opera wall panelings were gifts from the late board members Enrico Aloi and Joseph Puglisi. They were fans and friends of the late soprano Rosa Ponselle who was a Caruso protege. There is a lovely photo taken by my wife Judy of Mme. Albanese at age 104 joyfully laughing to see her friends Aldo and Lisa Mancusi. A few decades before, the effervescent cable television opera host Lina del Tinto and husband Harry Demarsky introduced Aldo and Lisa to Judy and me and it was a wonderful moment.

Board member and opera lecturer Lou Barrella and his wife Kathleen, volunteered their talents and efforts for the museum; Giuseppe Sarcona and Maria Valenti helped to translate into Italian, Mancusi’s daughters Kim Collins and Cindy Borriello are valued board members and Anthony Mancino, artist and illustrator from The Readers Digest with his beloved wife Grace who is now with Caruso in Paradise.

Aldo Mancusi and board member, Vice President and author, David Mercaldo, PhD have created a mini-masterpiece in this beautifully written and crafted publication. Linda Mercaldo, like Lisa Mancusi gave their talented spouses the freedom of time to create this wonderful tribute to Enrico Caruso and we thank them for that! The book is almost 100 pages of memories, stories, photos, hopes and dreams, colors, caricatures. His over 200 recordings from “Celeste Aida” and “Pagliacci” to “O sole mio” and “Core ‘ngrato” with their message of loves joy and sadness bring out humanity to its fullest and make us all uplifted to a heavenly realm.

Enrico Caruso, from Naples, Italy, conquered the world with “Vesti la Giubba,” the first million selling record. Caruso was held as an idol and example for the millions of Italian immigrants who were made proud by the voice of gold that emerged from the old phonograph horn to give them pride and hope. Not only the opera “swells” at the Metropolitan Opera where he sang over 600 performances in the house from 1903 until 1920, loved the man and the voice, but Caruso loved people of all backgrounds. The man on the street heard his big-hearted message of humanity through song through the Victor Record Company and his many personal kindnesses. Enrico Caruso sang over 20 performances at Brooklyn Academy of Music with the Met on tour and also sang at the police games and a Liberty Loan Rally at Sheepshead Bay Racetrack in Brooklyn on Labor Day 1918. Aldo Mancusi holds forth the banner that gave light to the world. The great sorrow remains that Enrico Caruso did not live long enough to enjoy his wife Dorothy and daughter Gloria. In the book, Aldo Mancusi takes Enrico Caruso on a tour of his museum and knows that he would be pleased.

The book is available through The Enrico Caruso Museum of America and you can email Commendatore Aldo Mancusi at [email protected]. Phone-718-368-3993. The seventy-five dollar price is a truly worthwhile investment! It is like a carriage ride to an exciting past, a past that still lives through the resounding voice of the great Enrico Caruso. This “foot in the past” surely gives hope for the future. Visit the museum by appointment only at 1942 East 19th Street in Brooklyn and see for yourself!

On the evening of Sunday, January 21st at The JW Marriott Essex House in New York City, Opera Index celebrated its 2018 Distinguished Award Dinner honoring legendary American mezzo Mignon Dunn. The program began with an operatic recital of young Opera Index 2017 awardees. During the cocktail hour, I was happy to chat with great mezzo Dolora Zajick, legendary Met soprano Lucine Amara, brilliant Met soprano Diana Soviero and the glowing awardee Mignon Dunn. Of course I thanked them all for their careers which made the operatic multitudes very happy indeed. I told Mignon Dunn how beautiful she looked and sounded as Magdalena, the Duke’s girlfriend in Rigoletto, and as a young man, how happy I was to see her so vocally alluring and sexy as the trollop sister of Sparafucile! Ms. Dunn, radiant and youthful, now teaches and like Johnny Appleseed, is planting many new singers and sending them off for future generations. I told Lucine Amara how a commercial for “Pace, Pace Mio Dio” Olive Oil on WOV Italian Radio in my grandmother’s house, made me familiar with the aria and helped spark an interest in opera. Ms. Amara sang the aria with such glory-even recently. I always tell Diana Soviero how moved I was by her unrivaled performance as Suor Angelica at the Metropolitan Opera. Dolora Zajick, up beat and full of fun, is one of the greatest Azucena’s in Metopera history in Verdi’s Il Trovatore and she too has a school of teaching and is helping to keep opera alive. Earlier we chatted with the Metopera legend, the indomitable Elinor Ross whose dramatic soprano still echoes in memory.

President Jane Shaulis came to the lectern and with one golden note, got the attention of all and the program began. In her introduction, Ms. Shaulis, who is a much heralded and loved mezzo at the Metropolitan Opera thanked the patrons, whose generous support sustains the awardees, who bring us all hope for the future and the honored guest Mignon Dunn who remains both in memory and current times a historic American opera presence.

The presenter of the award was Joan Dornemann, pianist and vocal coach at the Metropolitan Opera from 1974 and she also serves as assistant conductor. Ms. Dornemann gave a rousing and animated speech getting much applause and joyous laughter. She mentioned the wonderful Amato Opera with its Aida and the Egyptian army of 4 people. Ms. Dornemann spoke of her years in Spain at the Gran Teatro del Liceo and all the great singers she worked with. Her stories and wit were most amusing.

Mignon Dunn, looked so much like we remember her. She worked hard but had fun with her colleagues. Ms. Dunn was born in Memphis, Tennessee and raised in Tyronza, Arkansas and Memphis. Her opera debut was in New Orleans as Carmen in 1955. She sang over 600 performances at The Metropolitan Opera in a 35 year career and taught voice at Brooklyn College and Manhattan School of Music among others. Her late beloved husband was conductor Kurt Klippstatter. Her advice was high praise for Opera Index for the award and profound thanks. She misses her colleagues and says it is important to “always be good to each other.”

The concert then began with Tamara Banjesevic who sang “Je veux vivre” from Gounod’s Roméo e Juliette. Her soprano has power depth and flexability. Ms. Banjesevic danced through the tables in the dining area and had much allure. Her voice had the necessary frisson to make us all feel her newfound love and joy. Her coloratura flights showed us how happy Juliette was and while dancing, it was a nice bit of vocal and stagecraft by a future star.

Bryan Murray sang “Mein Schnen, mein Wähnen” from Die todt Stadt by Korngold. Mr. Murray has a caressing baritone and was able to draw the audience into his mood as if it was a Schubert lieder. His voice has a nice cadence to it and was always in legato balance and fell gently and passionately on the ear.

Courtney Johnson sang “Come scoglio” from Mozart’s Così fan tutte. Her impeccable soprano was well balanced with a lovely piercing top and flawless legato. Her coloratura flights were exciting and her ascendancy and downward slides were seemingly effortless. Ms. Johnson captured the spirit of Mozart’s character and shared that with us!

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James Ley tenor, sang “Vainement, ma bien-aimée” from Le Roi d’Ys by Lalo. This aria is like an illusion. Most think it to be a simple ditty when it is really a high bridge partially obscured by mist and fog. The outreach for the satisfying high notes are deceivingly out of reach for too many tenors. Tenor legend Beniamino Gigli’s superb honeyed recording should be heard. One has to interject a vocal personality in this piece. Mr. Ley’s capabilities are strong enough to achieve this. Let that note float – and satisfy. Don’t just reach for it – let it float and carry us on an emotional journey with it!

William Guanbo Su, bass sang “Vi ravviso” from La Sonnambula by Bellini. I am Sicilian, I love Pasta à la Norma and I love Bellini. I felt that Mr. Guanbo Su was a fruit in the midst of ripening. A few touches here and there and then bravo – la frutta perfecto! His first part was lyrically sung but one did not feel the pulse of Bellinian melancholy. The cabaletta had more energizing spirit to it. The voice itself has all the good baritonal and darker sounds one desires. They have to be kneaded like pasta, and a covering of tomato sauce with graded cheese and a bit of mint will create a true Bellinian singer. Then we can all celebrate with Pasta à la Norma! In 2017, William Guanbo Su was the first prize winner of the Gerda Lissner Foundation. The ripened fruit is near happening. We eagerly await for it at the table with some fine wine!

Brittany Nickell soprano, sang “Robert, toi que j’aime” from Robert le Diable by Meyerbeer. Ms. Nickell posses a fine flexible soprano of pleasing quality from top to bottom. Strong emotions were displayed and her ascents and descents were formidable. Her soprano had subtle shading and she was “in control” of her instrument and seemed to know the “feel” of Meyerbeer. Perhaps one day, a revival of this work-just for her!

I thought of Met Opera librarian Lionel Mapleson with his cylinders recording of Meyerbeer’s operas at the old Met in 1901-03. The “live” sounds of the golden age and the wild applause of the transfixed audiences with Polish tenor Jean de Reszke, American soprano Emma Eames and some legendary names that never made recordings.These are the only recordings of the elegant Jean de  Reszke. Ms. Nickell and the extraordinary Opera Index piano accompanist Michael Fennelly gave us the thrills that Mapleson yearned for over 100 years ago.

After the concert and presentations, we had a delicious Filet Mignon (Dunn) dinner and chatted with many of the guests. It was nice to see Metopera legend mezzo Rosalind Elias, Opera Orchestra of New York conductor Eve Queler, journalist and patron Meche Kroop, elegant Executive Director Joseph Gasperec, patron Sachi Liebergesell, author pacifist Luna Kaufmann, vocal teacher Joy Ferro, Opera Index Vice Presidents Philip Hagemann and Janet Stovin and treasurer Murray Rosenthal, horologist and board members John David Metcalfe, conductor Stephen Phebus and Linda Howes, Robert Steiner and Faith Pleasanton, Gloria Gari from the Giulio Gari Foundation, Michael Fornabaio and Karl Michaelis, distinguished patrons and representatives from the Gerda Lissner Foundation, suave David and glittering Barbara Bender from Career Bridges, opera manager Ken Benson, computer whiz George Voorhis, Cavaliere poet Dr. Edward Jackson, Jolana Blau from Elysium between two continents and the classy tenor Cesare Santeramo and Dr. Robert Campbell, sage patrons and benefactors, who added to the sparkle of this joyful evening at the fabulous  JW Marriott Essex House.

May opera thrive in the new year and beyond! Thanks Jane Shaulis and Joseph Gasperec for this splendid evening and for the loving assistance you render to these Opera Index artists of the future.

This volume, Franco Corelli – A Revolution in Singing (Volume 2), by Stefan Zucker comes at a time when many traditional opera customs are being looked upon with such inquisitional curiosity by today’s book burners. The directors’ various brain and sexual disorders appear to be silencing the singers and appealing to guilt laden complexes that seem to be working on the side of the devils. Make-up gone, Canio castrated, Don Jose executed by Carmen and Calaf beheaded by Turandot. How can a book, however scholarly on opera singers and composers, have any relevance today? Well, this wonderfully entertaining and enlightening book has been a source of unalloyed joy and pleasure to me and Stefan Zucker’s (Bel Canto Society) insatiable appetite for gossip, rivalry and jealousy among these artists speaks volumes.

I was blessed to have been an opera-file as a young man when Franco Corelli (1921-2003) was having his triumphs. My love of the voice of the great tenor Enrico Caruso made me a follower of the careers of so many legendary names. Since Franco Corelli began his rise in the 1950’s I can aptly say I saw and heard him with his brilliant powerful voice, film star persona and the excitement of his physical presence that made him unique. No one today can rival those exceptional qualities. He had sex appeal, power, pathos and could diminish a tone until it became a whisper. His larynx lowering was part of his vocal magic. I believe that Giacomo Lauri-Volpi was the tenor who influenced Corelli the most. Franco Corelli’s personal letters to Lauri-Volpi are very touching and show his great admiration for this legendary tenor. Franco and Loretta were very devoted to Lauri-Volpi and his wife Maria and Lauri-Volpi still sang in his eighties.

The author, Stephan Zucker, gave concerts with his mother, famed soprano Mme. Rosina Wolf, embellishing the nine high C’s in the La Fille du Regiment aria. Stefan’s mother knew Franco Corelli, who babysat for her while she was performing in Italy in 1951, watching young Stefan. Stefan became one of the great personalities in the opera world creating a “buzz” and a “stir” with his comments and his “Opera Fanatic” radio show which featured many opera singers and was truly an anchor for Franco Corelli.

I met Stefan at the home of TV opera pioneer Lina Del Tinto and her husband Harry Demarsky and found Stefan to be not only extraordinarily intelligent, but a delightful dinner companion with a strong wit and willing ear. Mr. Zucker discusses 54 tenors spanning 200 years from cast ratings to castrati! 

The great composers wrote music as well as the embellishments so championed by the great singers of the day. The singers knowledge allowed them to enhance the music with phenomenal scales and variations. But things changed and composer Gioacchino Rossini felt that a grand era was ending and that singing was becoming lackluster. Gilbert Louis Duprez formed a high C in singing that swept the opera world.

Farinelli and Velluti were not the name of a law firm in Italy but were two of the great castrati who, like dinosaurs, reigned supreme. The castrati recalled my grandmother Rosalia’s Easter and Thanksgiving feast which was a delicious capon with its tender breast meat – always tasty – never fowl. These birds were a delicious blend of male and female capabilities that evoked unique (eunuch) rich voices and many rhapsodic fans of both culinary succulents and operatic ecstasy! The last castrato, Alessandro Moreschi (1858-1922), made a series of recordings with the Vatican choir in 1902-4-for the Gaisberg Brothers, who also recorded the young Enrico Caruso as well as 93 year old Pope Leo 13th. While Moreschi was not a great castrato, he sang with rooster like tones, haunting and sad.

Rossini admired the castrati who themselves added the coloratura and vocal displays that thrilled and drove audiences to a Farinelli frenzy. When my grandparents re-visited Gangi, Sicily in the Madonie Mountains near Palermo in 1939, they took their son my Uncle Ignacio along. They planned a big surprise. The surprise was a farm girl who scrambled pigs testicles in a pan with eggs and milk. It was made for adolescent young men and was called “La Festa di Pape.” (The feast of Popes) He had the good sense to say NO, thank you! He is 91 today and a retired ballroom dancer. (Bill Tano) guess he didn’t need that extra testicular jolt!

Giovanni Battista Velluti who was a “ladies man” rather than the opposite (man’s lady), was the last operatic castrato hero and Rossini and others mourned the loss of the great “senza gazze.” Giovanni Battista Rubini (1795-1854) was a fabulous high C tenor who studied with Andrea Nozzari and sang some of the repertory of Giovanni David, who was called the “Paganini of Song.” Two wonderful illustrations of Rubini are enchanting. There is a lengthy segment on “Balls” and the varied surgeries that made castratos.

The new school of  “high C ” tenors took hold ultimately, leading to such stars as Francesco Tamagno (1850-1905) Verdi’s first Otello, Enrico Caruso (1873-1921), Beniamino Gigli (1890-1957), Giacomo Lauri-Volpi)(1892-1979), Giovanni Martinelli (1885-1969), Mario Del Monaco and Franco Corelli. When Enrico Caruso passed away in 1921, the world went into mourning. Tenor Giovanni Martinelli said Lauri-Volpi, Beniamino Gigli and he had to sing the late Caruso’s roles. Mario Del Monaco (1915-1982) was a handsome, robust voiced tenor whose rise to fame was about the same as Franco Corelli. They became intense rivals. I saw both these great tenors in their prime. As soon as Del Monaco heard of Corelli coming to the Metropolitan Opera, he left. Del Monaco was not a relaxed singer. You felt the tension and saw his muscles collaborate and his burnished and dramatic tones rocked the house. Del Monaco, who I saw in Norma with Callas at the Met made a film where he was heard as “The Young Caruso.” He was also quite an exhibitionist-but that’s another story. Franco Corelli would step back, open up and out would fly these free and furious notes, defiant and heroic. Once he tapered the tone to a whisper at the end of Celeste Aida. His defiance of his Turandot, Birgit Nilsson was an outpouring of two volcanoes, his melting kiss was a triple gelato almost too much to bear. Corelli said it would not be out of place if he saw Del Monaco and punched him in the jaw. Corelli did bite Birgit Nilsson on the neck in Turandot when she held their duet note longer than he and ran offstage in Italy to challenge a student who booed him-with sword in hand!

A friend, artist and Italofile James Albano, told me of Corelli’s singing of Calaf in Vienna that had women throwing their keys at him. Corelli’s wife Loretta was in constant tension about these real or imagined liaisons. She said “I was extremely jealous. If I didn’t have 10 fingernails, I had 20, to scratch out the eyes of women who were after Franco.” Corelli said that soprano Teresa Zylis-Gara was his greatest love (She was a brilliant Tosca), but he and Loretta stayed married. Franco Corelli sang at The Metropolitan Opera from 1961 until 1975. In 1975, Corelli and Tebaldi sang a legendary concert at Brooklyn College. That’s the year they both left the Metropolitan Opera. They were, according to Zucker, associates and friends, not lovers. There is a chapter on Corelli’s various liaisons, mistresses and flirtations.

This splendid book has many glorious photographs including those of Franco and Loretta. They were a handsome couple and one extraordinary shot of Franco Corelli as Turiddu and Brooklyn’s great tenor Richard Tucker as Canio. Can you imagine, seeing them both on the same night. I did! Corelli was a superb Turiddu and Tucker a great Canio. Corelli’s “Addio alle Madre” was impassioned and Richard Tucker’s heartbreaking “Vesti la Giubba” and his screamed “La commedia e finita” haunt the memory! They too were rivals but “friendly” ones. Tucker and Corelli became closer as time passed. Tucker told Corelli how to secure a note (or the other way around) and they were much friendlier after that. Metropolitan Opera Manager Sir Rudolf Bing used to assuage them by threatening to pay the other one dollar more! I recall seeing Franco Corelli at Richard Tucker’s (1913-1975) wake at the Campbell Funeral Home in New York in 1975 and he looked, in his grief, as if he had been punched in the stomach. Tucker had a brilliant 30-year career with the Metropolitan Opera. Tucker still lives on through The Richard Tucker Music Foundation run by his industrious son Barry.

Beniamino Gigli (1890-1957) had a voice of incredible sweetness and honeyed tone. He could “cover” and also add some delicious “fortes” and made about 20 films including Forget Me Not, in England where he sang “Non Ti  Scordar di me” and  “Mama.” In “Mamma,” (1940) Gigli sang the title song and the delightful “Se vuoi goder la vita,” where his diminishing tones were breathtaking. Corelli listened and learned. He was no Gigli but he was renowned for his dimuendos and silvery masculine tones. Gigli’s final film was the charming Taxi di notte in 1953. I would go to the Benson Theatre with my grandparents Antonio and Rosalia Pantano to see his films. She would loudly curse the villains both wife and her lover and weep for the poor cuckolded Gigli! Gigli succeeded the mighty Caruso at the Met (1920-1932 and again in 1939 to demonstrate his Radames. He came back to America for three Carnegie Hall concerts at age 65 in 1955. I attended one of the concerts where Gigli sang a dozen arias and about 15 encores. He covered beautifully and his “covering” pianissimi were still prominent, his top, a bit short but quite thrilling. At age 65 he was still a wonder. His intoxicating and emotional “E Lucevan le stelle” tore the house down. His “Oy Marie,” and “Quanno a femmena vo” drove the audience to a frenzy. It’s all been recorded and is incredible to see, but also to witness – amazing! According to Zucker, Gigli’s greatest gift was “chiaroscuro of timbre.”

I met Franco Corelli at a Michael Sisca’s “La Follia” concert when he was about 80. I kissed his hand in respect. He said “No, no, no!” But I thanked him for the visceral thrills he gave me and so many. Corelli was a very nervous performer. His professional recordings don’t have the special “edge” that his “live” performances had. I recall with a shiver and a smile his incredible performances in his prime, but I never listen to his recordings for comfort or inspiration. Occasionally I play Gigli (I love his Spanish song “Marta”) and I always find comfort in Caruso. When not in a tenor mood, it’s great basso Ezio Pinza who moves me. Once in a while I play (castrato) Moreschis’s “Ideale” with his haunting ironic torment. On occasion, Martinelli, Peerce, Tucker, Melchior and Sicilian tenor De Stefano help fill the void.

I wish to thank Stefan Zucker for his brilliant and stimulating book with its vital and vibrant photographs. It is what opera is really about and of the importance of all these great artists who used their vocal talents to remind us of the troubadour. Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti, Verdi, Mascagni, Leoncavallo, Verdi and Puccini surely second the motion. Soprano Gigliola Frazzoni said, “Corelli was the Callas of tenors!” This splendid book has 351 pages adorned with many magnificent photographs of Franco Corelli in costume and with his wife Loretta and other artists from Maria Callas, Renata Tebaldi to great baritone Tito Gobbi. Illustrations of the distant past singers are incredibly artful and truly make the reader part of the action. Whether its romance, gossip, technical truths or memory refreshing, this book stands out as stimulating reading for the next year and decades to come. I strongly recommend Stefan Zucker’s Franco Corelli – A Revolution in Singing  (Volume Two) as I did Volume One.

We eagerly await “Hitler’s Tenor,” a book on Beniamino Gigli, another tenor from the Adriatic (Recanati) whose worldwide fame put him among the gods of opera as well as thrilling audiences worldwide for over 40 years! Some may object to the relationship of Gigli to the German Nazi regime but all that will come out in Stephan Zucker’s new book. My advice is listen to Corelli and Gigli! It is artistry, voice and the universal pleasure reserved for angels and tenors!