Palmarès I

Mes petits lapins, here is part one of my list of favorite 2004 recordings, emphasizing opera and vocal music. I take as my motto the words of Michou de Montaigne: "Je donne mon avis non comme bon, mais comme mien."

The second installment is here.

In no particular order…

Puccini Discoveries: Riccardo Chailly, Orchestra Sinfonica di Milano Giuseppe Verdi (Decca). I'm astonished that this one slipped in under the radar. True, most of its "discoveries" deserve to remain buried, but the disc offers a singular prize: Luciano Berio's completion of Turandot, which had its premiere in 2002 and remains unheard in New York. (Since NYCO and the Met frequently perform Turandot, let us hope that they soon correct this oversight.)

What a bleakly violent opera Turandot is. Its backstory and supposed happy ending both involve rape (of Turandot's ancestor Lou-Ling and of Turandot herself) and a woman's death (Lou-Ling, Liù). It's an old story, perhaps *the* old story, at least within the Puccini canon. In some respects, it fully justifies the brutal triumphalism of Alfano's ending.

Still, there is no reason to treat Alfano's version as sacrosanct, and Berio's completion opens up fascinating musical and psychological vistas. It ends in sordina, with a whimpering reminiscence of Liù's music, and follows her death with sounds that evoke the cruelty of those complicit in her demise while also holding forth the possibility of healing. Calaf's kiss gives way to a swooning two-minute interlude, very inward, redolent of Tristan; and Turandot's "Il suo nome è amore!", in which Calaf joins, resists resolution and seems more an anguished query than a facile certainty.

(Here's a thought: Why not commission yet another new ending, this time from a woman—say, Kaija Saariaho? And have the opera staged by Julie Taymor, whose way with Gozzi is so magical? Oooh…)

The performance is adequate. The microphone does not flatter the voices of Eva Urbanová and Dario Volonté, valiant artists both, and the score demands a better orchestra than it gets here. (For inspired singing and playing, the obvious choice is Mehta's recording of the traditional version of Turandot.) Still, if you love this opera, you need to hear Berio's haunting alternative to Alfano's Technicolor bombast.

Gianmaria Testa: Altre latitudini (Le Chant du Monde). Not a folkie, not a rocker, not a jazzista, Gianmaria Testa exemplifies the principle that it's all just music. In Testa's case, it's all beguiling, urbane, and gorgeous music. Altre latitudini is more oblique than his previous efforts, and I would suggest Montgolfières for newcomers to Testa's work. Still, listen to my "Soundcheck" review of Altre latitudini, read my TONY review, and hear several cuts on David Garland's "Spinning on Air."

Mozart: Le nozze di Figaro. René Jacobs, Concerto Köln (Harmonia Mundi). How I loathe sexless, genteel performances of Mozart, and how timid most other recordings of Nozze sound compared with this bold and passionate set. It is winning all the big awards, and it deserves every one of them. Please read my TONY review.

Juan Diego Flórez: Rossini, Le Comte Ory (DG); Great Tenor Arias (Decca). For spit-and-polish musicianship, patrician style, unfussy eloquence, and jaw-dropping panache, Juan Diego Flórez is the greatest singer in the world. Right now, no one even comes close to him. In the past year, I have heard him in various venues, including in recital, in opera, and on disc, and I have never found his artistry to be less than staggering.

Quibbles about the two recordings: The omission of Fenton's sonetto (Falstaff) from the aria recital was criminal; and the best Rigoletto excerpt to showcase Flórez's talents would have been "È il sol dell'anima" or the quartet. (When I interviewed him several weeks ago, Flórez countered with an avid glint in his eyes, "Ah, but the *big* aria is 'Parmi veder.'" And who's to argue with the divo?) While the Comte Ory is most welcome, even ten years ago this masterpiece would have received a luxe studio treatment with, say, Annick Massis, Cecilia Bartoli, Michele Pertusi, and Alessandro Corbelli… pace Mr. Tommasini and his faith in the so-called free market.

Universal should release without delay the Genova Donna del lago, in which Flórez boggled the mind.