When I was twelve I was fortunate enough to be present at the discovery of one of the most celebrated sopranos of the 20th Century - I attended a performance of Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor with Joan Sutherland in the title role. I am listening as I write to the 1960 recording that she made under the baton of Sir John Pritchard when she was at the peak of her powers and, while she made subsequent recordings conducted by her husband and with co-stars such as Pavarotti, this first issue captures her voice when it is clean, stunning and quite quite breathtakingly beautiful.
This week, La Stupenda or Dame Joan, as she is now, reaches her 80th birthday and on Wednesday Radio 3 are celebrating this occasion with an entire evening devoted to her recordings and performances. I intend to leave work bang on the dot on that day so I can be at home and listen to every single glorious note. Dame Joan has had her critics, mainly for her acting ability which was fairly limited and, as she got older, her diction which practically vanished down the tube. Instead of words listeners heard a long unbroken sound with nary a vowel in sight, but what a sound!! The sheer beauty of her voice overcame any reservations one might hold. Her coloratura was simply astounding, her top notes reached with an ease and beauty that defies description. I am now listening to the first act soprano aria of Lucia - Regnava nil Silencio - and she has reached what I used to call 'the twiddly bits' and it still makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. When I heard her sing this at Covent Garden the entire opera came to a halt for fifteen minutes while the audience went totally potty.
The opera world used to be split into two camps, Callas v Sutherland. Still is. I had a foot in both. While I think Callas is the greatest singing actress who ever graced the operatic stage, Sutherland's was the most beautiful of the two voices. And yet and yet, when I listen to the Callas recording of Lucia and the celebrated Mad Scene, while there is no contest for perfection of sound, for me Callas comes out top. There is one phrase in the middle of this scene when Lucia is remembering her lost love. It is a sublime phrase and Dame Joan sings it exquisitely. Then Callas sings it, much less beautifully, but on listening to it I am immediately moved to tears. This happens time and time again with Callas.
The contrast between the two Divas could not have been more marked. Callas's turbulent life on and off stage was in marked contrast with that of Dame Joan who had a long and happy marriage to the conductor Richard Bonynge. You never heard of Dame Joan throwing a tantrum or being difficult, everyone loved her. She has always been a lovely down to earth person, living proof that you do not have to behave badly or be difficult to be thought of as a Diva (Angela Gheorgiou take note). I met her backstage at the Albert Hall after a sensational prom concert many years ago, and she stayed chatting, signing autographs and generally being delightful to everyone. Not sure I would ever have dared to approach Maria Callas if I had ever had the chance (which I didn't).
Fans of both the Divas tried to make out there was huge rivalry between the two celebrated sopranos but neither would play this game. Callas slipped into the back of the House to hear the dress rehearsal of Lucia di Lammermoor and was reportedly bowled over the Joan Sutherland's voice, saying to her companions how good she thought she was and visiting her afterward.
I have now reached the love duet in Act One and I simply have to sit and listen to it without distractions. Happy Birthday Dame Joan and thank you for the many glorious years of stunning singing and enjoyment you have given me.
