Patrick Bade
Puritani: Vincenzo Bellini

Patrick Bade - Puritani: Vincenzo Bellini

- [Judi] Well, welcome Patrick, and welcome to everybody this afternoon, or good morning, wherever you are. And Patrick, when you’re ready, over to you.

• Thank you. Thank you, Judi. Well, as you can see, I’ve started a new series on popular operas. And Judi said, for the first couple, could I link them to the themes that she’s talking about this week and next week. And she said, “Is there an opera could talk about that deals with the English Civil War?” And I said, “Yes, there is. There is Bellini’s ‘I puritani.’” There is the handsome young Bellini on the left-hand side. A true Romantic. And as true Romantics should do, he died young and handsome. This is actually his last opera. He died later in the year 1835. And he’s one of the three leading figures of Italian bel canto opera. Bel canto just means beautiful singing. It’s Italian opera of the Romantic period. And in these operas, Rossini, Donizetti, Bellini, the main emphasis is on the vocal line. All the emotion, all the expression, really, is in the vocal line, and the orchestra is often reduced to the role of just an accompanist, like a strumming guitar. Now, in the Romantic period, many European Romantics were fascinated by Tudor and Stuart British history, because the novels of Walter Scott were immensely popular, and inspired as many as 50 operas in the first half of the 19th century. There’s some debate about the connection between “I puritani” and various novels of Walter Scott. And in fact, the opera was initially titled in many places, “I puritani di Scozia,” “The Puritans of Scotland,” despite the fact that the entire action of the opera takes place in Plymouth, on the south coast of England. But that didn’t really seem to bother many Romantics. They just thought that to make Plymouth Scottish was going to make it more romantic and somehow more sexy. So a lot of paintings by French and German and Italian artists on British historical themes. This is “The Execution of Lady Jane Grey” by Delaroche. And this was exhibited with tremendous success at the salon two years before “I puritani” in 1833. And this was another very successful painting of Delaroche, 1831, of Oliver Cromwell contemplating the corpse of King Charles I. So Bellini happened to be passing through Paris in 1834. And the Theatre des Italiens… There were two big opera houses in Paris.

There was the that ran, that performed operas in French, and the Theatre des Italiens that performed operas in Italian. And they commissioned a new opera from Bellini, and he agreed to do it. And he looked round for both a librettist and subject. He found a librettist called Count Pepoli, whose portrait you see here, who was an exile because he was a patriot and a proponent of Italian unity. And he found a subject in a very popular play of the time called “Tetes Rondes et Cavaliers,” “Roundheads and Cavaliers.” As was the case with all these Italian operas of this period, it was very rapidly put together, rapidly composed. It really just took a few months. And it was first performed, the premiere in January 1835 was a huge, huge success, with four of the greatest singers of the bel canto period. There was the tenor Rubini, the soprano Giulia Grisi, the baritone Antonio Tamburini, and the bass, he’s the large gentleman there, that’s Luigi Lablache. And they had such a tremendous success with this opera. They travelled around Europe, performing it everywhere, and it became known as the Puritani Quartet, and it became the favourite opera of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. Now, as I said, the plot is set during the English Civil War, and it starts on the eve of a great battle between the Cavaliers and the Roundheads. And we’re in a castle in Plymouth. Why has that not moved? Yes, here it is. The governor of the castle, he’s called Giorgio, and he’s… No, he’s Lord Walton. Lord Walton, that’s right. And it’s his daughter Elvira who’s the heroine of the opera. She’s, of course, is a Roundhead, and she’s in love with Arturo, who is a Cavalier. And Riccardo, who is a Roundhead, is in love with her, but she doesn’t reciprocate. So the first aria I’m going to play you is Riccardo who’s bemoaning his fate because he has been rejected by Elvira. I’m going to play you a very, very historic recording here, because it gives you a little bit of a glimpse into how this opera was sung in the 19th century.

The age of bel canto, that’s the first half of the 19th century, was generally reckoned to be one of the peaks in the art of singing. OC, we have no recordings from as early as that. We have verbal descriptions, and we get some idea of how these singers sang from the music that was written for them. For instance, there are things in “I puritani”, particularly for the tenor, which are virtually impossible for any 20th century singer to sing. Now, from the the last 100 years or so of recordings, we can see that singing is a constantly evolving art, that voices and techniques were very different in 1900, from the 1920s, from the 1950s, late 20th century, and now. Skills have been lost, they’ve been regained. But there was a tremendous change in the art of singing in the late 19th century. This was partly brought about by the operas of Verdi and Wagner, who required bigger voices, more hefty voices, particularly Wagner. But above all, it was verismo, the verismo movement in Italy, that’s Mascagni, Leoncavallo, Puccini, and so on, who put much more emphasis on dramatic expression than vocal refinement, and that really did change the art of singing. But the one recording I’m going to play tonight that is from a singer who was trained and began his career before this revolution, singing at the end of the 19th century, this is Mattia Battistini. He was born in 1856, so he’s born the generation immediately after the great bel canto singers, and he made his debut in 1878. And he was very, very famous in the role of Riccardo in “I puritani”. So I hope you’ll bear with this rather primitive acoustic recording, ‘cause it does show, as I said, how the art of singing has changed. His voice is incredibly suave, and the the ornaments seem to sort of blossom out of the vocal line with great naturalness, and they’re executed with incredible precision. So this is really quite a special historic recording. Notice the “um-cha-cha” accompaniment that’s very typical of the bel canto period. The orchestra just really strumming away in the background.

• The most famous exponent to the role of Elvira in the 20th century was Maria Callas. In fact, this opera played a very, very important, it was a very important moment in her career. It was the opera that really brought her to world attention in 1949. This photograph on the right-hand side shows her at the time in her costume for Elvira with the great conductor Serafin. This is Callas before she lost weight, before she slimmed down. It’s the big Callas. And at the time, she was singing dramatic roles. She was singing Wagner, she was singing Isolde. And in 1949, she was singing Bruennhilde in a complete “Ring” cycle in Venice. And in the same season, they had “I puritani,” and the exquisite lyric coloratura soprano Margherita Carosio was supposed to be seeing the role, and she fell ill. And Serafin, who had a great understanding of the potentials of the human voice, particularly the soprano voice, he played an important role in the careers of a number of great sopranos. And he said to Callas, “You can sing this. I want you to. I need you to sing the role of Elvira in 'I puritani.’” She said, “Are you mad?” I mean, she had six days to learn the role, and in those six days, she had three Bruennhildes to sing, and nobody would’ve conceived the idea that it was possible for the same singer to sing these two roles, let alone in the same week. They have very different tessituras. Tessitura is the main level at which the voice is working in a role. Wagner, although there are some high notes, there are a couple of high Cs for Bruennhilde, but the most of the role lies in the middle of the voice, and it needs a big, beefy voice, whereas Elvira, a lot of the role lies right up at the top of the very highest notes possible for the female voice. So anyway, Callas agreed to undertake this seemingly impossible task, and she had a tremendous success, and it changed the course of her career. And as I said, it really established her world reputation. I think later she realised what a dangerous thing it had been to do this. And famously, when she was booked to sing at the Met, she fell out with the director Rudolf Bing, because he wanted her to sing “Traviata,” which is a high-lying role, in the same season as roles which lie lower in the voice.

And Callas, at that point in her career, haughtily refused, saying, “My voice is not an elevator.” So the role of Elvira is a demanding, very showy one, with lots of coloratura, and it’s interesting dramatically. I mean, she’s a thoroughly hysterical, neurotic character, who loses her reason, and goes crazy every time she’s crossed, at the drop of a hat. I can tell you what Trudy would say to her. Trudy would say, “She needs help.” So we’re going to hear her in the first big scene she has with the bass, who is her uncle who she’s very close to. And he says to her, “Well, you’re about to be married.” And she immediately becomes totally hysterical, and says, “If I’m forced to get married, I’ll go mad.” I’ll lose my mind, and I’ll die of grief,“ as you can see in the text here. While singing this, she has a lot of very florid coloratura to sing that I think expresses her neurosis and her hysteria. And Callas is really wonderful in this. The coloratura is not just vocal display. It really expresses something. And technically it’s also phenomenal. At this early stage of her career, when she’s, you know, still had a lot of weight, there was huge weight to the voice as well. And to hear a voice as big as this hurtling around this coloratura, and you’ll see she does two excellent, very well-defined trills.

• But in fact, Giorgio, her uncle, reassures her that she’s not going to be forced to marry Riccardo; her father had wanted her to marry Riccardo, who’s a Puritan, a Roundhead; and that she will be allowed to marry Arturo, the man she loves, despite the fact that he is a supporter of Charles I. So he now enters, and he hears the good news, and he sings of his joy. Now, this was a role specifically written for Rubini, who was the greatest tenor of the Romantic period. And he had a phenomenal facility at the top of his voice. He could go comfortably up to a high F above top C. And this note is actually written into the score, but practically nobody does it. You can actually hear it if you want to on YouTube. Lawrence Brownlee, excellent modern tenor, American tenor, with an amazing top, and he does actually do the top F. It’s not really a very pleasant sound, but it is there for him. It was very different from the way Rubini would’ve sung it. Rubini did not sing his top notes from the chest, in the way a modern tenor would, in the way you, say, Pavarotti would. He made a very skillful use of head voice and what the French called voix mixte, which is a blend of head voice and chest voice. But that’s a very hard thing to explain, so I’m going to demonstrate it with my next excerpt of this first entrance aria of Arturo, "A te, o cara.” And this is, I think, this is Giacomo Lauri-Volpi, and I think this is one of the most amazing tenor records of the 20th century that does actually give you some kind of a glimpse as to what these tenors might have sounded like back in the Romantic period. Although he sings a very high note here, it’s a C-sharp, a top C-sharp, he actually does it in the 20th century way, from the chest. But you’ll see, from the start, I think you’ll be able to hear it, his use of head voice and voix mixte, and blending it with the chest voice, and using this to create incredible shading. This is a piece of that’s full of exquisite light and shade.

• The voix mixte there. Very gentle, almost feminine sound.

• That’s a top C-sharp coming from the chest. a brilliant sound.

• Incidentally, Rossini, it was in the latter part of his life that tenors began to sing top notes like that from the chest, and he thought it was hideous. He said it made him think of a capon having its throat slit. And the first time he heard a tenor doing that, it was actually in a private residence. And he ostentatiously went round putting away all the crystal to protect it from the effects of the top note sung from the chest. Now, so Elvira is obviously thrilled by the news that she can marry the man she loves, and she has this little scene where she comes out, singing joyfully, and adorning herself for her forthcoming wedding. And this is a really showy piece, with spectacular coloratura and amazing top notes. And I set up this whole talk, really, as a competition of sopranos, a kind of duel of sopranos. The two front runners are clearly Callas and Sutherland, but there are going to be a couple of others getting a look in as well. Here is Sutherland strutting her stuff in the scene with coloratura of incredible accuricity, accuracy and velocity, and the most thrilling and beautiful top notes, something that, of course, Callas never had at any point in her career. And she had the top notes earlier on, but it was always a bit chalk on a blackboard. They’re pretty screechy, whereas Sutherland’s notes are simply glorious at the top.

• Wonderful trill. Rather finer than Callas’s.

• So at this point, it’s definitely advantage Sutherland. Now, there is a mysterious woman in the castle, and when Elvira is doing all that stuff, she wants to arrange her hair, and she takes her bridal veil off, and she hands it to this mysterious woman, or she actually even puts it on her head. And this woman turns out, she’s the one historical character in the opera, this is Enrichetta, she’s Henrietta Maria, she’s the widow of the executed King Charles I. When Arturo realises this, he realises that it’s his duty to help her escape. So she has this veil, and they use it as a ploy to help her get out of the castle. Of course, you know that in opera, all you have to do is put on a mask or a veil, and even your husband or your wife can’t recognise you anymore. It’s a given in 19th century Italian opera. So they’re heading for the exit with her under Elvira’s veil, and Riccardo thinks for a moment that it’s Elvira and Arturo who are absconding together. So he challenges Arturo, but Enrichetta, Henrietta Maria, lifts the veil, and she separates them, and Riccardo actually ushers them out, thinking, “Good riddance,” that he’s got rid of Arturo, and he’s got Elvira to himself. But of course, Elvira, as soon she realises that, oh, this man she’s just about to marry, he’s just disappeared with another woman, well, of course, she goes mad on the spot, as one does in Romantic opera. And she has this very mournful scene, “Oh vieni al tempio.” And this is a wonderful example of what Bellini called weeping in song, and I think no composer is better at it than Bellini. But of course, it’s not just a composer. You’ve got to have the singer who can do it, who can express what the composer wants with this kind of weeping melody. And here, I’m afraid, it’s really back to advantage Callas, who can do this incomparably well.

• So act Act I ends with Elvira completely off her head. And at the beginning of Act II, her beloved uncle, Giorgio, he has his big aria. And for this, it’s a bass voice. You want what the Italians call a basso nobile, a noble bass. It should be not one of those sort of huffy, puffy basses. It’s got to be a bass with a very beautiful, smooth line, and a really focused tone. And so here is Giorgio’s aria, describing the plight of the insane Elvira. Once again, notice the orchestra just chuntering away like a guitar in the background.

• Now we have Elvira’s big scene in the opera. It’s her great aria, “Qui la voce.” And it’s a three, typical three-part aria, as you find in a great many Italian operas through to middle-period Verdi. It starts off with a recitative, and then you have the central aria, which is slow and melodic, and then you have the third section, which is a cabaletta, which is fast-moving and showy. And I would say that this aria is one of the greatest in all of Italian opera for the soprano. And I’m going to take the opportunity to do some compare and contrast between Sutherland and Callas, and I’ll bring in a couple of other sopranos, and then I’ll be very interested to see your comments on the end, who you like and who you don’t like. So we’re going to start off with Sutherland just singing the recitative to the aria.

• And it’s certainly very beautiful, in a rather droopy way, but it’s a bit bland. It doesn’t exactly grab you by the throat. So now we move on to Callas, who brings an incredible vividness and intensity to this recitative. And we’re going to continue into the aria itself.

• I want to move on and play you a couple of other sopranos just in the central section of the aria, “Qui la voce.” I really want you to hear Margherita Carosio. It’s so unjust that these days her name only gets mentioned for the fact that she was replaced by Maria Callas, and gave Maria Callas the great opportunity of her career, because she’s a lovely singer in her own right. As you can see, she was a very beautiful woman. It’s a smaller voice, it’s a lyric voice, and her manner of singing is really very typical of verismo. The production of the voice is very vibrant, rather tremulous, you might even say. And she really wears her heart on her sleeve, and she interrupts the vocal line with little sobs, which is not really a very bel canto thing to do. But all in all, I think it’s a most lovely performance. And of course, I’d love to have heard Callas sing it right at the meaning of her career, but I would’ve been very happy to hear Margherita Carosio in the role as well.

• You hear the little sob in “Ah, mai piu.” That’s very verismo. I also can’t possibly leave out one of my favourite singers, which is Amelita Galli-Curci. She was, again, a singer with a lyric coloratura voice, a lighter voice, much lighter voice than Callas. I find everything she does incredibly touching, even though she’s not really, I suppose, a very overtly emotional singer, in the way either Carosio or Callas are. My reason for playing it is really the gorgeous timbre of the voice. She’s one of those voices where, every now and then, when I really need cheering up, I just want to hear something incredibly beautiful that’s going to make me feel good about life, I’ll pull out a recording of Galli-Curci. She has this very special timbre, which is very pure, but at the same time very warm and very luscious. When people first heard her, older people who remembered Patti, they said, “Yeah, this is how the great Adelina Patti sounded in the 19th century.”

• Now we arrive at the final, very brilliant cabaletta, and once again, it’s going to be advantage Sutherland, as this music just fits her like a glove, and nobody really can touch her for sheer virtuosity, this incredible athletic quality that her singing has, with astonishing freedom at the top.

• I’m going to play you another version of that which has a special interest. I mentioned that Bellini wrote these roles with those singers in mind. The greatest female singer of the age was Maria Malibran, but she was not a soprano, she was a mezzo, so she had a lower tessitura. And when he heard that she was willing to take on the role, he rushed to rewrite it especially for her. So I’m going to tell you that little passage that we’ve just heard with Sutherland again, as it was rewritten for Maria Malibran, and here performed by Cecilia Bartoli. In fact, Malibran never sang it, because the performance, performances that she was going to give were cancelled. This sounds very current. They were cancelled because of an outbreak of cholera, and then she died soon afterwards. So it wasn’t actually until the late 20th century. I think it was probably Bartoli herself who first performed this version for mezzo in public.

• Opera in the 19th century was extremely political. There was a famous performance in Brussels in 1830 of an opera by Auber called “Masaniello” where there was a patriotic duet that excited the audience so much that they rioted, and the riot spread into the streets of Brussels, and then to other Belgian cities. And that led to the Belgian Revolution of 1830, and the creation of Belgium as an independent state. Now, after that, especially in Italy, in the various parts of Italy ruled by Austria and by the Papacy and so on, by the Bourbons in southern Italy, they were terribly nervous of any new opera and anything in it that could excite the public. And so, as I said, the librettist of “I puritani” was a supporter of Italian unity and of Italian liberty and Italian revolution, and rather against the better judgement of Bellini, Bellini was very nervous about this, he insisted on putting in this duet, which ends the second act, for the baritone and the bass, which, as you can see, it has the word “liberta,” liberty, in it. And it’s a really rousing duet on the eve of a battle between the Roundheads and the Cavaliers. So here we go.

• We’re going to move on quickly. In fact, I think I may not play you this scene. Having delivered Henrietta Maria to safety, Arturo comes back for Elvira, but of course he’s now, he’s a fugitive, and there’s a warrant for his arrest for treason. Incidentally, the battle has taken place, and of course, it’s been won by the Roundheads. It’s been won by Cromwell. Anyway, he finds Elvira wandering in the forest, and they sing a duet together. I don’t think it’s the best music in the opera. It was clearly designed to show off Rubini’s top notes. It’s in this scene that there is the top F. And it’s pretty excruciating in the version with Callas and Di Stefano. But I think, having told you about that, I’m going to move on. And then Arturo is actually caught, and he’s sentenced to death. Of course, when Elvira sees him, she gets back her reason. She gets her sanity back again. But the moment he’s arrested and sentenced to death, she loses it once more. And we’ve got a big scene here where everybody’s feeling very sorry for Elvira, and the surrounding chorus are feeling sorry for Arturo, ‘cause about to get the chop.

• Now, in the last scene, just as Arturo’s about to be executed, a messenger comes in at the very last moment from Cromwell, saying that, because the battle has been won, he’s now going to show mercy, and all the Cavalier prisoners can be reprieved. And so, in fact, Elvira and Arturo can be married. I don’t predict a very stable or happy marriage between these two people, by the way. But anyway, it has a happy ending, with general rejoicing.

And as I’ve run out of time, and I can see there are quite a few questions, I am going to move on. And I’m very curious to know what your responses have been to the various sopranos that I’ve played. So let’s see what we’ve got.

Q&A and Comments:

Q: This is Yolan saying you listened to an excerpt of “I puritani” on YouTube. “Where was the tenor Rubini from?”

A: He was Italian. His first name was Giovanni Battista. Lablache.

Yes, he was a famous practical joker, that’s true. And I’ll tell you something I just discovered about him quite by accident a few days ago, is that he’s the great-great-grandfather of the film star Stewart Granger, who actually had Lablache as his middle name.

Q: David Garfield’s asking me, what year was the Battistini made?

A: That was made in 1911, so quite late in Battistini’s career.

Q: “Is 'I puritani’ performed?”

A: Yes, it is actually performed quite a bit, although I have to say I’ve never actually seen it on stage. I’m not sure why.

Thank you, Elaine, for nice comments.

“Quite astonishing.” Oh yes, well Riccardo is indeed. It’s interesting you say it has a baritone hint to it, because he was a baritone, but some people say he was actually a lazy tenor, rather like they used to say about Sherrill Milnes, didn’t they, ‘cause he had a very easy top. The top is easier with Battistini’s recordings than the bottom part of the voice.

This is Valerie Cooper saying, “Maria Callas sang with so much expression, not just with her voice, but with her physical portrayal.” Yes, it’s really sad that we have so little film of her. I think the only film of her, well, we’ve got film of her in concert, but the only film of her on stage is, of course, the Act II of “Tosca” from Covent Garden.

Let me see. Where am I? I tried to find the Italian text and translations for you. And it’s very important, of course, I think, to get that.

The Arturo… You have the list. It should come with you. The Arturo, I mean, the great one, I think, that I played you today was Giacomo Lauri-Volpi. Coloratura, Sutherland is, it is totally amazing, isn’t it? I mean, I’m not a huge fan of Sutherland, but there is something so exhilarating about her coloratura scene.

So this is , also talking about memories of Sutherland singing Norma. Well, lucky you. I never heard her sing Norma.

I heard her sing Lucia a few times. Soprano… “Tenor Javier Camarena is superb singing 'A there, o cara.’” I don’t know that. I’ll look that up. But I would be interested to hear it.

Yolan saying she likes droopy Sutherland, not the bombastic Callas. Well, you know, it’s chalk and cheese, isn’t it? And I can well understand why you say that. I know a lot of people are completely allergic to Callas. I wouldn’t really call her bombastic, but she certainly makes some very ugly noises, which you wouldn’t say about Sutherland.

Why are Bellini’s operas like… “Norma” I can tell you why it’s so early performed, because it’s so difficult to find people who can sing it. I think they are done from time to time, but as I said, it’s very difficult to cast them. Valerie’s saying she feels the emotion in Callas’s voice.

And Suzanne actually really liking Sutherland in the recitative. So I mean, these things…

Q: What do I think of Edita Gruberova?

A: She was never a favourite singer of mine. I always felt she was… Well, a friend of mine, who I think might be listening to this in Munich, describes her as a singing machine. She certainly had, you know, a big voice, and very brilliant top, and efficient coloratura, she never really did it for me. But you know, it’s a very personal thing, isn’t it? It’s different for everybody.

So Pamela, I would agree. Callas for emotion and Sutherland for virtuosity. I don’t think one could really disagree with that.

Sorry about the V&A. Valerie’s saying it’s hard to choose.

And Myra is saying that she heard… I must check out this Camarena. I haven’t come across him. She’s saying everybody went crazy. It’s wonderful when a singer does that, isn’t it? Well, of course, Callas did that, as I said, in 1949, “The last Sutherland was magical.” Yeah, I mean, she’s in her element for that, of course Joan Sutherland’s debut in 1961 as Lucia. I bet that was exciting. That must’ve been amazing, ‘cause she’s really at her peak, of course, at that time.

Yes, Malibran, like another great Romantic, as I said, all the Romantics, think of them all, Chopin, Keats, Shelly, Byron, I think that the Romantics tend to have a short lifespan.

Another one going, voting for Joan. I think it’s about even-steven so far.

Q: “How about Anna Netrebko?”

A: She’s amazing, Anna Netrebko. When I first heard her, I thought, “Well, this can’t possibly last.” But she surely has lasted. In fact, I think she’s got better and better.

Q: Again, this question. “Why is it so rarely performed?”

A: I think it’s difficult to find the singers.

Q: “Which country did Belgium break away from?”

A: At the end of the Napoleonic Wars, Belgium was given to Holland, but they had been separated for such a long time, they really found it hard to live together as one nation.

“Does Victoria de los Angeles approximate…” I love Victoria de los Angeles. She’s another singer where I just love the sound of the voice. I remember hearing her right at the end of her career, when she shouldn’t really have been singing, and most of the concert at the Wigmore Hall was a bit sad. But then suddenly, in the encores at the end, I thought, this is still the most beautiful soprano voice in the world.

“Callas could act.” She certainly could. But Vee Dorin, she saw them both. Another vote for Sutherland. Yes. I mean, the ease. It’s just that wonderful kind of athletic quality. Actually, I like her best, to tell you the truth, in Handel. Her early recordings of Handel are just absolutely staggering. Somebody else mentioning Netrebko. I must check that out. Presumably you can see that on YouTube.

Gregory Kunde. The top F. Goodness. Yes. I only heard him recently, when he certainly didn’t have a top F left.

“Kraus and Flores have sensibly…” I don’t find it necessary, and I’d rather people leave it out than make an excruciating noise. Interesting.

Herbert Hess liking Giuseppe di Stefano in the last excerpt I played. That is true. I mean, to me, I find a lot of his singing quite uncomfortable in that recording. But it’s absolutely true that he has wonderful, crystal clear diction.

Lillian thinks Sutherland wins hands down. I think these are going to be, I’m told that these lectures are going to go online round about Christmas, but I don’t know what the latest is on that.

“Callas’s top notes in the mid '50s were wonderful.” Hmm. I’m not sure I would agree with you, but you know, as I said, it’s a matter of taste. I think, you know, they don’t have… They have a certain rawness, but of course, that in itself is quite exciting.

Ooh, I think we definitely… Sutherland is winning out, I think, with you lot. We’re getting more Sutherland votes than we’re getting Callas votes. And yeah, the voice of Callas is very much a matter of taste.

You thought that Carosio has too much vibrato. I like vibrato, and that’s a personal thing, but I love verismo.

Galli-Curci. Yeah, Galli-Curci. Amelita. Delicious singer.

Ooh, it was performed yesterday by Washington Concert Opera.

Yes, Bartoli… I’ve been listening to Bartoli a lot this week, and I also have sort of mixed feelings about her. She’s a very self-conscious singer, at least on record. The times I’ve seen her live, I’ve been very impressed.

The bass was Nicola Rossi-Lemeni.

Talking about a Maria Callas biography, there are huge numbers of books on Maria Callas. There must be more books on Maria Callas then pretty well every other 20th century soprano put together.

“Love, love, love Callas.” Good. Well, I’m glad Callas is get getting some votes, too.

The last time I saw Netrebko was in Paris about four years ago, and she was certainly in great form then. Yeah, Edmond’s saying, you know, what it is about Galli-Curci, 'cause she doesn’t actually emote in a way that a lot of other singers do, but she can reduce me to tears. I mean, Galli-Curci in the scene, you know, the scene with the father,

“Dite alle giovine,” listen to that. Ugh, it just gets me every time I hear it. There’s something so limpid, so touching, so sincere about her singing, even though it’s not very overtly emotional.

I think, yes, I always think Callas is best in her angry roles.

I mean, Callas said, “If you really want to understand me, listen to me in 'La Gioconda’ by Ponchielli.” And I would agree with that. I think that’s her greatest role. But she’s wonderful in “Norma” and wonderful in “Medea.” So yeah, I think Callas is really best when she’s angry. So.

La Stupenda, yes, is, of course, Sutherland, and La Divina…

Oh, Sondra Radvanovsky. She’s a fantastic singer. Underrated, really great singer.

And we seem to be coming to the end. Are we coming to the end? Good. Thank you very much.

We’re on to “Don Carlos,” ‘cause Trudy’s going to be talking, I think, about the Spanish Inquisition, so “Don Carlos” was a natural to go with that on Sunday. So I’ll see you then.

• [Judi] Wonderful. Thank you so much Patrick. And thank you to everybody who joined us today. Take care. Bye-bye.

• Bye-bye.