Much the best of these is the Andrea Chenier. The Cavalleria rusticana provides interest but limited pleasure, most of that being derived from the excerpts from other operas by Mascagni used as a fill-up on the second disc. The Ballo in maschera has no style about it, there are a few individual items which it would be a pity to miss, yet I can't say that I would ever willingly sit through the whole performance again in order to hear them.
The recordings, along with Madama Butterfly (EMI (CD) CHS7 69990-2, 9/89), are reissued now with the great tenor Beniamino Gigli as the starattraction and the focal point. When the earliest of them was made, the Cavalleria rusticana, in 1940, he had just celebrated his 50th birthday, and though that is an age at which tenors in particular begin to wonder whether celebrate is the mot juste he was still in magnificent voice. The next ten years brought some inevitable decline but far more remarkable than any deterioration was the extent to which beauty of tone and ease of production remained unblemished. Going back to 1918 and hearing him in the Serenade from Mascagni's Iris we marvel both at the incomparable honeyed voice of the young man and at the immediately recognizable identity of the same voice in advanced middle age. Given a choice it is the younger voice we would want to remember him by, yet experience has enhanced his expressiveness, especially in Chenier, even if it has not ennobled him sufficiently to give his part in the Verdi opera the dignity it needs. Stylistically he was always best in Puccini (his Pinkerton to dal Monte's Butterfly is still the most memorable and distinctive on record): even in Andrea Chenier the temptation to indulge in a too overt, self-pitying kind of pathos proves irresistible to him, and though the frankly tearful appeals to Compar Alfio and Mamma Lucia may be just about acceptable in Cavalleria, no suggestion of a crybaby should be allowed into ''Ma se m'e forza perderti'' in Ballo. In short, Gigli is a singer one can know very well through songs and arias, and though his name adds lustre to any cast list I wouldn't buy these opera sets solely or even primarily because of his participation in them.
The Ballo in maschera is at best a recording to sample in highlights. These would included Barbieri's majestic account of Ulrica's solos, and Gigli's laughing reception of her prophecies in ''E scherzo ed e follia''. From Caniglia I would have ''Ma dall arido stelo divulsa'', where there is tension and a certain grandeur: it's remarkable too how she takes the first ''Deh, mi reggi'' phrases thinking upwards as a soprano whereas much of the time she tends towards a mezzo timbre. Elsewhere she is often flat on high notes. Bechi, vocally superb in his big solo, is at his best in all respects in the Conspiracy trio, where it is also good to hear the vibrant bass of Tancredi Pasero. But despite Serafin's firm hand and sensible touch the performance as a whole is very conventional, and various mechanical flaws (the abrupt ending and beginning of some of the original sides for instance) become obtrusive too.
The Cavalleria rusticana recording is a good example of the fact that composers are not inevitably the most persuasive advocates of their own music. Mascagni conducts slowly, stiffly and sometimes crudely. He is much better as a speaker: the short introductory oration has power and authority worthy of an actor-manager of the old school. Turiddu was one of Gigli's best parts and he is in splendid voice. Bechi impresses again: interesting that he was born in the same year (1913) as Gobbi, whom he so often resembles. The Santuzza, Bruna Rasa, was only six years older, though she had already retired from professional life, returning to record her most famous role at Mascagni's request. The voice is rich, with lovely quality in the middle register, and her whole performance blazes: a notable artist, and her recordings are not common.
Bruna Rasa was in fact the Maddalena of the first complete Andrea Chenier recording: here it is Maria Caniglia, far better suited than she is to Amelia in Un ballo in maschera. Bechi is nothing short of magnificent—the voice has a most thrilling quality and he makes a genuinely convincing character of the part of Gerard. This opera is so rich in minor roles that most recordings manage to press some famous names into service but few have (retrospectively) done better than this, with Simionato and Taddei, Italo Tajo and the fine mezo Maria Huder. This is a highly satisfying performance; the concerted scenes come to life wonderfully well, and when his turn comes the great tenor sings as a member of a worthy company. He always chose Chenier for his debut role in a new house, and of the three operas here this is his best memento.'