For so popular an opera Butterfly has been meanly treated on CD so far, but in every way except one the transfer of Karajan's radiant Vienna recording for Decca, made in 1974, could hardly provide a firmer recommendation. The reservation is one of price, for unlike the Maazel CBS version, also newly on CD, and Decca's earlier transfer of Serafin's vintage recording with Tebaldi, this new Karajan is on three discs, not two. Karajan's speeds are consistently expansive—some may find them too much so—but mathematically at least it would just be possible to break between discs at one of the index points in Act 2 and keep the set on two CDs. Economically the spread on to three discs is regretable, but it does at least allow each act to be self-contained on a single disc, and for such a performance as this no extravagance is too much.
Movingly dramatic as Renata Scotto is on both the Maazel version and the LP reissue of the Barbirolli/EMI set, Mirella Freni is even more compelling. The voice is fresher, firmer and more girlish, with more light and shade at such points as ''Un bel di'', and there is an element of vulnerability that intensifies the communication. In that, I imagine, Karajan played a big part, just as he must have done in presenting Luciano Pavarotti—not quite the super-star he is today but already with a will of his own in the recording studio—as a Pinkerton of exceptional subtlety, not just a roistering cad but in his way an endearing figure in the First Act. Significantly CD brings out the delicacy of the vocal balances in Act 1 with the voices deliberately distanced for much of the time, making such passages as ''Vienna la sera'' and ''Bimba dagli occhi'' the more magical in their delicacy. Karajan, both in that duet and later in the Flower duet of Act 2, draws ravishing playing from the Vienna Philharmonic strings, getting them to imitate the portamento of the singers in what is also an echt-Viennes manner, ravishing to the ear. For Karajan Christa Ludwig is by far the richest and most compelling of the three Suzukis.
By comparison Maazel, for all his excellent qualities of clarity and incisiveness, is unpersuasive, too often conveying a degree of self-consciousness in the phrasing. Scotto, as on the earlier Barbirolli set, present a deeply involved portrait of the tragic heroine, but you have only to compare her two performances of ''Un bel di'' to realize how with Barbirolli at a more flowing speed the expression is more varied and involving in its detailed changes. It is disappointing too to find Maazel relatively coarse and unsympathetic in the Flower duet, and the 1978 CBS recording is not appreciably better than the 1974 Decca. Placido Domingo is in typically heroic voice, but this is not one of his more detailed readings, and my final disappointment in the set is how grittily unpleasant Ingvar Wixell sounds as Sharpless. Robert Kerns may not be ideal for Karajan, but he is far preferable.
The best of the three characterizations of Sharpless comes from Rolando Panerai for Barbirolli, and not even Karajan matches Barbirolli in the glowing warmth of the opening duet between Sharpless and Pinkerton, with Carlo Bergonzi a fine Pinkerton if not so delicate as Pavarotti. In the passage where the two expatriates with their second glass of whisky toast the folks back at home, Barbirolli draws from the strings of the Rome Opera House Orchestra a refinement to match and even outshine that of the Vienna Philharmonic at that point. On two mid-priced LPs this Barbirolli reissue could not be more welcome, a heartwarming performance like Karajan's if not quite so delicate in detail. Remember, though, that on the Classics for Pleasure label, even cheaper, another warmly compelling EMI version is available on two LPs (CFP414446-3, 8/85) with Victoria de los Angeles arguably the most enchanting butterfly of all.'