Announced as the first in a series designed to commemorate Menotti’s centenary coming up in 2011, this issue brings together two important early recordings, that of The Consul appearing now on CD for the first time. It was made in 1950, a month after the premiere, by the original cast, which had moved promptly from Philadelphia to Broadway. There the opera ran for 269 performances, a unique achievement for a work written in what most would still consider to be a modern style (the nearest comparison in terms of immediate popularity would probably be with Rutland Boughton’s The Immortal Hour in the 1920s). The other opera, Amelia al ballo, startling to recall, dates back to 1937 when it was given at the Metropolitan, New York, paired in a double-bill with Strauss’s Elektra. The recording was made 17 years later, also by a cast fresh from a premiere, this time at La Scala, Milan, where Italians heard for the first time their now internationally famous compatriot’s small masterpiece.

Though Amelia shows up here as by far the better work, it is likely that attention will centre on The Consul. On the face of it, this is an essential “creators” recording, documenting an event which, whatever may be judged to be the score’s merit, has a sure place in the history of opera in the 20th century. In fact, as Mark Obert-Thorn’s interesting Producer’s Note points out, the recording is seriously flawed (“very dry and closely miked” for one thing), and it seems improbable that conditions were such as would enable the authentic theatre experience to be caught. Much of the sound is harsh and the voice of Patricia Neway in the leading role (strong but never, by most accounts, a beautiful instrument) sounds metallic and worn even here at the beginning of the run. One positive quality is the firmness of the voices: I would be very surprised if a modern recording matched it in that respect.

The Amelia is splendid in every way, with fine, natural recorded sound, verve and style in Sanzogno’s conducting, charm of an agreeably “period” kind in Carosio’s singing and very able backing by Prandelli and Panerai, the male corner-pieces of the eternal triangle. The transfer also gives much pleasure – though, on comparison, I found that the version on Testament (1/01), with its slightly warmer glow, gave more.