The Beverly Sills Donizetti Trilogy


Roberto Devereux (1837)
(June, 1969, EMI Studios, London)
Beverly Sills, Robert Ilosfalvy, Beverly Wolff, Peter Glossop —
Charles Mackerras

Maria Stuarda (1835)
(June, 1971, Fairfield Hall, London)
Beverly Sills, Eileen Farrell, Stuart Burrows, Louis Quilico
Patricia Kern, Christian du Plessis — Aldo Ceccato

Anna Bolena (1830)
(August, 1972 EMI Studios, London)
Beverly Sills, Shirley Verrett, Stuart Burrows, Paul Plishka,
Robert Lloyd. Patricia Kern, Robert Tear — Julius Rudel
DGG 289 465 967—2 (7 CDs)

November 7, 2000 was an important, if confusing, voting day in America. But for many musicians and record collectors in the New York City area, that date had an additional significance. It was the date of DGG’s American release of Beverly Sills’ legendary Three Queens. At last, Sills’ commercial recordings of these roles are now on CD thanks to DGG (and, it seems, to some prodding from Ron Pollard, the classical manager of the main Tower Records store in New York City).

Issued over a period of four years and by different companies (ABC and Westminster) these recordings have always been known simply as Sills’ Queens. Donizetti wrote a number of operas incorporating the lives of English Queens, but in America, because of New York City Opera’s mounting of these works during the 1970s, they became (inaccurately) known as a “trilogy.” Actually, Sills was not the first modern-day artist to sing all three roles. That achievement goes to the indomitable Turkish soprano, Leyla Gencer — Bolena in 1958, Devereux in 1964, and Stuarda in 1967. Recently Edita Gruberova incorporated all three roles in her repertoire and recordings. (Joan Sutherland sang only Stuarda and Bolena; Maria Callas, whose work was the impetus for the entire bel canto revival in the first place, sang only Bolena in 1957.) Sills was, however, the first to sing all three roles consecutively, within a single week — as she did at NYCO once all three works had been presented.

So what is the big deal? The answer is multi-layered. At the time the Devereux and Stuarda were the first commercial recordings of these unfamiliar but important works. And despite the excellence of her interpretations of Baby Doe, Lucia and Manon, the Three Queens (and their recordings) were the crowning achievement of Beverly Sills’ career. In retrospect, and for an accurate evaluation of her career, these are indispensable reissues. They also demonstrate Sills’ triumph over material that was often not suited to her voice. But perhaps most importantly, these recordings are living documents of the “bel canto” excavation happening at that time. Unlike many other recordings, these three stand up to repeated hearings extremely well. If anything, familiarity brings only more enjoyment and that in itself is a rare virtue.

What remains so startling about these sets is the marriage of ornamentation to mood and expressive declamation. Because of this, DGG’s release is not only a tribute to Beverly Sills but also an homage to an unsung hero who was always lurking in the background, Roland Gagnon. Indeed, much of the success of Sills’ interpretations is due to her collaboration with Gagnon who coached her and wrote virtually all her ornamentation from 1962 until his untimely death in 1979. Gagnon was a master at his craft and Sills called him her “musical mentor.” The combination of the two made pure magic. After the success of Roberto Devereux, it was Gagnon who urged Sills to undertake the other two operas. He not only understood the workings of the Sills instrument but also was blessed with an innate knowledge of the art of ornamentation and how to seamlessly integrate it into music. Gagnon composed variants and ornaments that allowed Sills to exploit her voice in a manner that helped her get her musical points across while being fresh and individual. This is not to say there wasn’t criticism. But in the case of these works, if one takes the time to study the score and exactly where Sills and Gagnon ornamented, the reasons for every one of them becomes both apparent and logical. These impulsive, singer-driven recordings help remind us that musicians are supposed to have artistic temperament. It is through such individuality that great vocal and dramatic interpretations are forged.

Roberto Devereux
This recording was made four months before Sills debuted the role at NYCO. Despite that, her Elisabetta is an amazingly finished character and virtually duplicates what she did on stage (except for a few high endings added once she became comfortable with the pacing of the role in the theatre). Elisabetta is a “killer” role in that much of its dramatic writing lies low in the voice. Sills, herself, has confessed that she probably shortened her career a number of years by singing it. From this recording and the live performances available (at least 15) one can understand why she would make such a comment; she is unsparing in the use of her voice. Interpolated high notes, rearranged vocal lines, and cadenzas find her top register shimmering and secure. The famous Sills agility is seamless and phrased with distinction. And although it is obvious that the more dramatic moments tax her instrument to the extreme, the artistic nuance and abandoned vocalism she brings to the role override any reservations.

There are countless phrases that show Sills’ innate sensitivity to the music of the ottocento. A good example occurs during the duet with Roberto immediately following her opening aria. There is a section of short phrases: “Ah! col pensiero io torno a stagione piu ridente! Allora i giorli miei, scorrean soavi al par della speranza” (end of track 7, CD 1) in which Elisabetta remembers earlier happiness with Roberto. Part of a recitative, Sills prepares and invests those phrases with such intimate pathos that they become almost an aria in miniature, a glimpse into the secret core of Elisabetta’s soul. No other singer has so cleverly exploited this possibility in Donizetti’s score, one which underlines Elisabetta’s unbearable anguish and provides further insight into her later actions. Then there are her interpolations during the Act II duet with Cecil (particularly “Il tradimento e orribile, la sua perfida e certa”). They are brilliant: frenzied thrusts into high notes and lunges into deep chest voice while in the midst of furious coloratura — all perfectly depicting her rage. And then of course there is the famous 17 minute final scene, recorded in one take. Ultimately, her voice may have not been suited to the role, but she accomplished exactly what a singer should — she is absolutely unforgettable.

The versatile Beverly Wolff is an excellent, intense Sarah and although he is not the most refined singer, I found Ilosfalvy a perfectly acceptable Roberto. Peter Glossop as Nottingham also contributes much to this set’s success. All are strongly yet sensitively led by Mackerras. The Ambrosian Singers and the John Alldis choir (on the other two operas) are both excellent — warm-toned and superbly disciplined. And to top it all, the recording has the intense atmosphere of a live performance rather than a studio recreation.

Maria Stuarda
The unusual pairing of Eileen Farrell with Beverly Sills as contra-heroines might surprise some (probably no one more that Farrell herself when it was first suggested) but it proves to be a most rewarding combination. And with so little commercial documentation of Farrell’s work available this is especially welcome. Elisabetta is a big sing, and the role’s length almost matches that of the title character. Farrell’s voice is obviously huge yet is used with imagination and excellent control. The first half hour of the opera is hers and she immediately lets the listener know that this will be no passive listening experience. Indeed, her distinctive vocal bite and power of declamation makes every word of her role count. Farrell’s Elisabetta is a formidable adversary for Sills’ Maria. One of the most impressive things about all three of these recordings is the obvious commitment of all involved to preserving something alive and involving for the listener. They succeed admirably — temperaments abound throughout and Sills, obviously inspired by Farrell, out does herself with lambent, high pianissimo singing. The dramatic (and completely non-historical) confrontation scene between the two is magnificent. The chemistry crackles with electricity, and despite my familiarity with the recording I found myself breaking out in chills. All the other singers, Stuart Burrows, Louis Quilico, Patricia Kern and Christian du Plessis all do admirable work and Aldo Ceccato leads the combined forces with an obvious underlying passion for Donizetti’s music. But to be honest it remains Sills and Farrell’s show. And what a glorious show it is!

Anna Bolena
This is such a wonderfully willful, determined performance. Sills shows such fascinating individuality and imagination in her ornamentation and varying of vocal lines (often raising them) that repeated hearings only bring fresh insight into the textual reasons for the decisions to ornament. If, by this time Sills’ voice had begun to loosen a bit, her dynamic control is still better than most of her contemporaries and her dramatic commitment is never in question. The final twenty-minute Mad Scene is a tour de force that Sills invests with equal amounts of dramaticism, refined legato, high pianissimi and skillful virtuosity, crowning everything with an excellent top E flat.
Although Shirley Verrett may seem like another odd casting choice, her performance is strong and arresting. Her darker, burnished voice sets up excellent contrasts to Sills’ brighter timbre. Verrett also seems to revel in exploiting her excellent top register. Their grand duet (Act II Scene one) is another unforgettable performance. The warm-toned Stuart Burrows makes a welcome return. He copes as best he can with the difficult tessitura of the Act II “Nel veder la tua costanza,” while the solid and impressive Paul Plishka makes a stronger character of Henry VIII than Donizetti originally allotted him. Julius Rudel shows his understanding of the idiom by his well-paced, articulate conducting.

Originally no expense was spared in the LP release of these operas and fortunately DGG has decided to duplicate that lavish presentation. They have kept Donizetti expert William Ashbrook’s superb notes (and excellent translations) as well as the original biographies, and most of the additional “historical” photographs and recording session photos. This is the way all commercial operatic recordings should be presented. The set reminds one what an enriching experience record listening can be when offered to the consumer in the right manner. Attractively boxed, each recording features the original front and back covers with the bonus of an additional commemorative booklet full of pictures and Sills’ comments on the roles. (Eventually, the three operas will be available separately but without the extra photo booklet.)

A footnote:
The month before the Sills Queens release, the budget label Gala issued a superb 2 CD compilation of Sills live performances called Sillsiana. This concentrates on the more rare performances including the hard-to-find 51-minute excerpts from Donizetti’s Lucrezia Borgia (a role she never recorded) and the album’s title piece, an amusing pastiche of the Sills “roles” penned by Roland Gagnon in a moment of madness. (Gala gives phony dates for him, but do not be fooled.)

This is an important collection if for no other reason than it preserves excerpts from Handel’s Semele given in Cleveland in 1968 which Sills performed with Seth McCoy, Helen Vanni and Robert Shaw. Simply put, these 42-minutes are the stuff of legends and arguably the most exquisite singing that can be found in all of this artist’s work. Her performance of “Myself I Shall Adore” displays a level of expressive virtuosity that has rarely been equaled, even by herself. The finest compliment I can give Beverly Sills is that I have known these excerpts for 23 years and they still thrill me each time I hear them.

Both these sets exhibit the distinct individuality that marked Beverly Sills’ singing during her prime and her artistic commitment to the music that she interpreted. Go and get them.

Nicholas Limansky

Nicholas E. Limansky completed a vocal performance degree and has sung with all the major professional choral groups in New York City. He has written reviews for the Italian publication, Rassegna Melodrammatic, and reviews for many music publications including Opera News. He is presently completing a biography and critical analysis of the 1950s Peruvian singer, Yma Sumac. You can read more of his writing on his website: divalegacy.com.