Having made a premature attempt at recording in 1911 with HMV, Muzio was engaged by Pathe in 1917 as their star singer for two years, and then made her long series of discs for Edison between 1920 and 1925, all reissued by Romophone (1/94) and an indispensable two-disc set. Now the company have put us further in their debt by issuing the Pathes and adding four unpublished and fascinating Edison titles. Inevitably there is some overlapping but it is surprising how many titles were not remade by the soprano. Here we have, on the first disc, an impassioned and nicely shaded ''Suicidio!'' in a reading that is amazingly accomplished when you realize Muzio was just 28 at the time. ''O patria mia'' and ''Un bel di'', neither repeated by her, adumbrate the sheer beauty of the voice of the young spinto: strength is there, but also refinement and feeling, although the technical command, as often with this singer, isn't always faultless. Above all, we catch an echo over the years of what Muzio must have been like: deeply affecting, in these roles, confirming contemporary comment—and that is what records are about.
The account of Violetta's ''Attendo, attendo... Addio del passato'' makes a fascinating comparison with the 1935 repeat on Columbia (Nimbus, 4/91). Seventeen years later, the expression, while deeply eloquent, has become self-indulgent and lachrymose (younger collectors certainly find it so), in this simpler 1916 version, vocal verities are more naturally combined with feeling (JBS, who contributes the slightly downbeat notes here, may not agree). On the other hand, Amelia's Act 2 aria from Un ballo definitely suffers from immaturity, besides being cruelly foreshortened. An unaffected ''Ave Maria'' (Otello) is followed by two bellicose songs, the second of which, Giordano's Canzone guerresca, reveals the sheer refulgence of Muzio's tone at this early stage of her development. ''O mio babbino caro'' catches the Muzio sound at its warm and attractive best, the singing simple, neatly etched. Her ''Tacea la notte'', minus trills, complements the Edison ''D'amor sull'ali rosee'', a better account than the Pathe included here.
Other duplications inevitably point to the diva deepening and broadening her interpretations on the Edisons during the 1920s. Take Wally's ''Ebben?'' as a template for the rest. Even by 1920 (Edison) there is a significant advance on 1917 in terms of shading, intensity of verbal emphasis and sheer emotional involvement—the extra half minute taken is well used. And the Edison process was far more successful at catching that Muzio sound than was the Pathe which, even under Ward Marston's loving refurbishment, imparts an unwanted edge to the tone. Nevertheless, there is everything to be said for letting us hear all the evidence where such a revered artist is concerned.
The songs are, as ever with this singer, irresistible. Buzzi-Peccia's Baciarmi is poised sensuously on a skein of gossamer tone. In another song, Burleigh's Jean, we can delight in Muzio's excellent and clear English and also in the better sound. Then come the four 'new' Edisons, which include Donaudy's O del mio amato ben, later repeated in 1935 for Columbia (Nimbus, 10/89): the performance here is just as plangent. Even more tenderly accented is a little-known and unattributed song, Torna amore, and the even more evocative traditional Mon jardin. Yes, a great singer indeed.'