George London & Giorgio Tozzi
George
London & Giorgio Tozzi
George
London
For my study of bass-baritone George London I listened to
two Metropolitan Opera radio broadcasts: a 1959 performance of Don Giovanni, and a 1973 production of Der fliegende Holländer, both under the
baton of Karl Böhm and with London in the title role. Incidentally, the latter
also featured Giorgio Tozzi as Daland. I will deal with this in a separate
section as it features both artists and focus here on Don Giovanni along snippets of Boris
Gonduov.
The Metropolitan Opera’s MetOnDemand service describes
this performance of Don Giovanni as follows: “When George London stepped on
stage as the legendary lover Don Giovanni, audiences gasped. Handsome and
effortlessly charismatic, he promised to fulfill every woman’s desire. No
wonder the beautiful Lisa Della Casa (Elvira) didn’t want to let him go, and
Eleanor Steber (Anna) wants to put off her wedding for another year. [Cesare
Valletti and Ezio Flagello also star as Don Ottavio and Leporello
respectively.]” This was a fascinating (and perhaps somewhat presumptuously
sexist) review of the performance with which I did not entirely disagree but
had some qualms.
London’s rich bass-baritone perhaps epitomizes the voice
type. There is a sense of robust power behind the voice in terms of sheer depth
and size. Unlike other potent male voice types however, like dramatic tenors or
Verdi baritones, I had the sense that London’s voice was buttery and warm. I do
not mean to claim that he lacked the chiaroscuro
balance as a technical flaw; indeed the ring is there. Nonetheless, the dark
richness of the voice was evident even as the squillo gave it power and carried the voice. London’s
interpretation of Don Giovanni certainly seemed without any vocal difficulty
and felt completely valid artistically. This was not a situation where I
wondered whether maybe a singer was reaching beyond their natural means. London’s voice made his Don
Giovanni into an imposing fighter and domineering nobleman. The events surrounding
the fight at the beginning of the opera, his numerous bouts lording his
position over Leporello, and his repeated threats of violence felt extremely
convincing because of his vocal powers. It seemed completely believable that he
would remain in control of all of the earthly situations brought against him by
the rest of the characters despite their grand conspiracy against him. Even
when the statue comes to claim him at the end he seemed to remain resolute in
the face of his judgment.
Still,
in many of the most well known pieces the very things that make London’s voice
so impressive and enjoyable, its creaminess, cannon-like feel (though handled
with artistry), and tone that suggests almost a constant smile seemed to
overwhelm the role in places. Don Giovanni is a man of many different faces, one
of which is indeed the domineering nobleman. Also though, he is a honey-tongued
seducer who knows his abilities to win over women. Certainly a bass-baritone
voice can fulfill this role. Nonetheless, in famous pieces like “Là ci darem la mano,” and “Deh vieni alla finestra,” indicative of
these moments, I felt like the toughness of London’s voice overwhelmed the
sense of seduction. Perhaps more than this it felt as though London’s Don
Giovanni lacked a certain youthful virility that might have been communicated
through a lighter voice. Perhaps it is an unjust personal bias, but I feel that
part of what makes Don Giovanni compelling is the fact that he is not aged, not
an elder statesmen, but yet he is in complete control and he knows that his
youthful vigor will win him both women and power. The concept of “manliness” is
inevitably a trap. Nevertheless, I feel like a more metallic, perhaps slightly
lighter sound communicates one part of manliness and a darker sound another.
For Don Giovanni, I feel like more of the lighter sound, perhaps even a perfect
balance, is essential. Other sorts of “manly” roles might require more of the
darker sound, as London’s performance in other roles suggests. I suspect,
though I do not know, that London’s acting on stage helped to mitigate the
factors I have just described with his physique and choices giving him the feel
of a deep, plushly smooth lover.
The
beginning of the opera left me more with my latter, less favorable opinion of
London’s Don Giovanni and I was not sure about how I felt about him in the
role. His “Fin ch'han dal vino,” however,
was extremely impressive. It was rich, powerful, explosive, and the voice moved
easily despite its size and weight. I went back and listened to it several
times, in fact. It was this, along with some reflection, that led me to the
conclusion that perhaps London’s voice merely offers a different, somewhat
unusual, but viable take on the role.
One
other issue at play here is pure sound or orchestration. This is reminiscent of
my feeling that Christa Ludwig’s Marschallin was certainly viable but perhaps
caused some issues in ensemble. Having a bass-baritone voice capable of singing
dramatic repertoire set next to another bass-baritone voice for Leporello and a
bass voice for the Commendatore offered neither as much variety nor the kind of
intrinsic characterization that we might get from having a true kavalierbariton perform Don Giovanni. Pointedly,
I do not feel London made any choices that somehow influenced this. The simple
fact that he is a bass-baritone with a sizable voice was responsible for
changing the interpretation of the character. I walked away feeling, though,
that London’s innate characteristics brought out certain elements of the
character and downplayed others. From a personal standpoint I am not sure I
liked the way this portrayed Don Giovanni as a whole, but I am certainly in
favor of new perspectives on classic characters that make me reconsider my
conceptions of the character.
Watching George London perform
Boris’ death scene from Boris Godunov was revealing in its contrast
with his performance as Don Giovanni. I really felt he was cast in a character
whose personality fit the voice more appropriately. London’s good looks and
strong acting were still used to great effect as Boris, but the voice’s
inherent, somewhat strange combination of dramatic mortar-like production and
smooth creaminess lent itself to the dramatic yet noble Boris. These
characteristics, in slight variation, were apparent in his portrayal of the
Dutchman, as well.
Before moving on to the Dutchman, a section that will
address both George London and Giorgio Tozzi, I wanted to mention how reviews
of London’s performances matched up with my own perceptions. Early reviews of
London in Wagner suggest he was a bit uncomfortable in heavyweight roles such
as Wotan. His other roles of similar stature, especially later in his career,
however, like Boris Godunov, Scarpia, and the Dutchman, all received rave
reviews. Unfortunately I am not so familiar with Der fliegende Holländer and thus have less against which to
compare, but the review of a 1960 performance in the New York Times describes
London as portraying “fierce eeriness” and the production overall as possessing
“blazing intensity.” Finally, London did not dip too much into the bass
repertoire, but his success in a range of repertoire is apparent from positive
reviews ranging from the Wagnerian to heavy Italian repertoire, to Méphistophélès,
and finally to Figaro in Le nozze di
Figaro and Don Giovanni, the last of which was placed among his highest
achievements in a London Times
obituary despite its outlier status compared with the other roles listed.
George
London & Giorgio Tozzi in Der
fliegende Holländer
George London’s performance as the Dutchman was very
impressive. As suggested by reviews and by my postulation listening first to Boris Godunov excerpts, the vocality of
the Dutchman seemed to fit London’s voice more appropriately. He is not a nobleman
like Boris, of course. Still, he is a ship’s captain with the experience of age
(supernatural, as it were). In this context the rich, brown-sugar-topped butter
of London’s voice, combined with its generous thrust, felt appropriate. The
voice brought the strength and nobility lent to both Don Giovanni and Boris
Godunov yet did not require the virility I expect of someone like Don Giovanni
and, not unlike Boris, showed the weight of a curse (perhaps figuratively in
the former case and literally in the latter). The Dutchman’s relationship with
Senta might not be appropriately described as romantic or even lustful as Don
Giovanni’s relationships can be, but the voice also made more sense in this interpersonal
realm, as well. Hence, I can certainly see how London’s performance in this and
similar repertoire garnered such rave reviews.
Giorgio Tozzi’s performance as Daland was, I believe, not
the most accurate representation of the basic structure of his voice. By no
means was it a poor performance. On the contrary, it was quite effective.
Tozzi’s performance of Daland, however, employed a great number of the vocal
effects not uncommon in portrayals of all but the most major characters in
Wagnerian dramas. Hence, the true character of the voice was somewhat masked.
What I perceived from his performance as Daland was a lighter sounding voice
that was less sung-through. While the perception of a sense of lightness was
actually prescient, it was still not representative of the voice. Nevertheless,
Tozzi’s Daland was convincing and effective. His vocal character distinctively
characterized him apart from London as the Dutchman. I felt like I could
understand the mix of uneasiness, greed, and then emotionalism that do make
Daland more than just a mere character role. Hence, I felt like Daland was not
an unreasonable role in which to examine Tozzi’s flexibility.
Giorgio
Tozzi
To investigate Giorgio Tozzi alone I looked at the bass
solos in a version of Handel’s Messiah
orchestrated and conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham in 1959 as well as a video of
Boris Godunov, date and conductor unspecified. These both led me to the
intriguing conclusion that Tozzi’s “boxing in” as a bass with some
bass-baritone roles seemed somewhat peculiar.
Beecham’s Messiah was definitely not in the
context of “historically informed performance,” something already underway
according to the note he included, though my understanding is the movement did
not take off until later. Sir Beecham describes his attempt to find a middle ground
between 19th century conventions of 5,000 member choirs and mid-20th
century conventions of miniscule orchestras equivalent to those in Handel’s
time that satisfied neither the size of the modern concert hall nor the ear of
the modern concertgoer accustomed to late-Romantic music. Tozzi’s solos were
definitely in line with this artistic vision. Ornamentation was essentially
unused (though Tozzi through some in just once!), some da capo sections (and actually the B section of “The Trumpet Shall
Sound”) were cut, and the singing and playing was definitely modern in style. I
did not find this offensive in any way. Indeed, Sir Beecham’s interpretation is
one among many viable ones and he even restored some of the often-cut numbers
to the regular recording and recorded many more in an appendix. Still, as far
as listening to Tozzi, the singing was not anything like what might be heard in
Baroque specialty performances today. What I appreciated about this, however,
was that it gave me a true measure of the voice. I was surprised because what I
heard did line up to some extent with my sense of Tozzi’s voice through Daland.
Despite his voice being, by designation, deeper than George London’s, it was
also steelier. For the Messiah solos
I felt this was especially effective, giving a bit of an edge to “Why Do the
Nations” and a sense of triumph to pieces such as “The Trumpet Shall Sound.”
Also surprisingly, this same voice, active in Wagner and heavy Russian
repertoire, had no difficulty accomplishing the coloratura in Handel that, for
the most part, was not any slower for the style of that era compared to today.
This was an indication of Tozzi’s great versatility and the fact that the voice
was capable of a variety of moods and styles over and above its simple technical
ability to tackle diverse repertoire.
Tozzi’s performance as Boris Godunov was, of course,
quite different from his performance as a Messiah
soloist and even from his performance of Daland. Despite, some of the same
factors shone through. I did not see a full version of George London’s Boris,
but for comparison, it once again seemed like a richer, nobler, perhaps
somewhat less troubled version of the character. Tozzi’s portrayal was
brighter, had a more metallic edge, and was interpretively more pointed. I
appreciated both, though I felt that Tozzi’s carried greater, more frenetic
emotional weight, which I felt was particularly effective. The acting also
seemed more organic. Tozzi once again had little difficulty handling a role,
like the Messiah solo, that while
described often as a bass role, is often considered to be bass-baritone (or
even baritone in the case of Messiah)
territory. Indeed, looking back on it, all of three of these full performances
by Tozzi were effective, and it would be hard to pick a “best” realm of
repertoire for him.
Stepping back to look at the voice based on these case
studies yields two interesting results. The first is Tozzi’s success in
different vocal modes. He could use a lot of character shading and acting for
Daland, sing with a resonate, vibrant, and big tone for the Dutchman, a heavy
role, and modulate that tone to sing with essentially the same technique but
move the voice quickly and with a sense of effervescence in Messiah. The second conclusion is
perhaps surprising and perhaps biased by the things to which I chose to listen.
I found that Tozzi actually felt like he possessed a lighter, perhaps higher
voice to me than London. I have heard neither of them live, of course, and I
probably should have sought a true, deep bass role to which to listen while
investigating Tozzi. Even directly comparing London and Tozzi singing the same
scenes from Boris Godunov I found the
same conclusion to be true. It may be that Tozzi’s voice actually did sit a bit
lower, perhaps was bigger (I cannot really tell), and even heavier in a way.
That said, the tone quality was more piquant, with that brighter, perhaps more
Italianate vibrancy. This may have been responsible for the illusion that the
singer, Tozzi, of the two I studied considered a bass and sometimes a
bass-baritone actually sounded higher and lighter than the singer I studied,
London, considered to be a baritone or bass-baritone. Across the board, reviews
did not seem to address anything of this sort. They did, however, almost always
praise Tozzi’s constancy, often describing him as dependable and sturdy in both
bass-baritone parts and bass parts, making little distinction between the two.
He was not considered merely a standby however, but frequently elevated as one
of the great singers of the age and perhaps of recent memory.
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Perhaps George London was not
given quite the same praise. It is important to note that the purpose of this
study is not to compare the two singers against one another. Still, they each
offer a valuable lens through which to study the other. In this case, both men
exhibited impressive versatility in unexpected ways in voice types that, as I
discussed last week, offer less opportunity for versatility. Where less
diversity was available for these men in kinds of roles, range, and style of
singing, they certainly tackled roles in a diverse range of repertoire from
Mozart to Wagner, creating interpretations that stand the test of time.
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