An exciting and eloquent reading on all sides, this version must now be rated with the established frontrunners—but, as with some of those, most notably any of Callas's versions and Muti's previous recording with Scotto, it is not for the faint-hearted, or for those who like their Violettas to have full, equally, produced voices—they should look to Sutherland (Decca, 1/84) or, of more recent vintage, Studer (DG, 1/93). Fabbriccini is evidently not an Act 1 Violetta. She has problems with the Brindisi and to an extent with ''Un di felice''. One is just about to write her off as technically too flawed, when in ''Ah, fors'e lui'' she suddenly alerts the mind and senses to her quality with her inflexions of the single word ''palpito'', and in the second verse (we have here an utterly complete and accurate La traviata) she again and again phrases with distinction or colours words significantly—listen to the infinite tenderness of ''O amore''. So after all, this is a Violetta, even without assured coloratura and with problems at the passagio, who is going to hold our attention and move us.
Once confronted by father Germont in the Second Act she makes us aware that we are in the presence of a notable and individual artist, with a tear in the voice and what the Italians term morbidezza. My notes of praise hereabouts are copious. The urgency of ''piu non esiste'' as if this Violetta is aware that a blow is about to hit her, the weight of sorrow on ''L'uomo giovane'', these and so much else bespeak not only complete identification with Violetta's predicament but also vocal acumen of an exceptional kind, often based on the seemingly lost art of portamento. Because this is a live performance we are conscious that the singer's acting is part of the secret of the reading's success, that and the obvious youth of a soprano who is not yet a preening prima donna. Maybe the power and security are not there for ''Amami, Alfredo'', yet the passion is very much present, as is the Italianate rightness of sound and accent.
She is partnered in the earlier part of the scene by the sensitive, sympathetic Germont of Coni, very much in the Bruson mould: an excellent model, revealing his merits of alert diction and sure tone at ''Pura siccome un angelo'' and singing throughout with firm and intelligent phrasing, sustaining ''Di Provenza'' even at Muti's slow tempo and showing concern for different dynamics, making its oft-omitted cabaletta sound interesting by virtue of his light, easy touch.
Fabbriccini is no less arresting in the second part of this act. Enormously helped by Muti, as she is throughout, she catches the nervous anxiety of Violetta culminating in the sad, sustained appeal at ''Alfredo, Alfredo''. The final tragedy is still better, very much modelled on Callas. The voice, more settled now than anywhere in the performance. manages ''Addio del passato'' (preceded by a properly drained reading of the letter), both verses, with long-breathed phrasing and pathetic accents, the result of a true understanding of Verdian style yet never self-conscious in its effect—this is undoubtedly great singing and interpretation The death is deeply moving: I have not felt so much of an emotional tug for many a day in this piece.
Alagna, in the role that brought him to attention, is just the Alfredo for this Violetta; youthfully ardent, with keen-edged tone, finely attuned to the legato essential in Verdi, neat in his phrasing, not always individual in utterance, at his appreciable best in ''Parigi, o cara''.
The recording is taken from four performances, which were also filmed, given at La Scala last year. These were a repeat of a series given two years earlier in the house with the same cast and conductor. The first run was, if one is to believe reports, wanting the confidence and acuity shown here. Over the period intervening, the singers had obviously matured in their roles and become fully acquainted with Muti's positive ideas. These are more accommodating to his singers than in his EMI studio version, though still strict in obeying the letter of the score. The difference is that here, in the theatre, the spirit is more palpably present. It is a theatrical view full of electricity, vitally executed by the forces of La Scala, as vital as any in the recorded history of the work—and all the more welcome for that and the unanimity of approach felt on all sides, not achievable, or rarely so, under studio conditions.
As such, it must now be among the recommendable versions, like those with Callas (Ghione, 1958; Giulini, 1955) and the Muti with Scotto, alive with meaning, not as easy to listen to as the Cotrubas/Kleiber (which is cut), and including occasionally obtrusive applause (least wanted after such a marvellous ''Addio del passato''). That apart, the feel of the opera house is all gain. I shall certainly want to return to this set often, not least to encounter the truthfulness and authenticity of the interpretation, something all too seldom encountered today.
The arrival of the LaserDisc of this performance just in time for review only goes to confirm its eloquent nature. Liliana Cavani's honest, unaffected traditional staging underlines and supports the readings of the principals, particularly that of Fabbriccini. The comparison with Callas cannot now be avoided. After due thought I have no hesitation in saying that—taking her portrayal all-round, dramatic and vocal—Fabbriccini is the most moving, most searing Violetta since that of her legendary predecessor. While obviously modelling her singing and acting on that of her forbear at La Scala, she is yet no carbon copy—the personality is different in that Fabbriccini seems the more lost, the more vulnerable when assaulted by the Germonts in Act 2—her look at Flora's party when Alfredo denounces her says everything, and her final act is filled with poignancy. Alagna looks handsome but is a shade sparing in facial expression. Coni contrives to add years to his real age and is at once implacable and dignified.
Cavani's own video production manages to convey the aptness of Dante Ferretti's decor and at the same time give us an intimate view of the drama. In sound terms, even more than on the CDs, I thought chorus and orchestra were rather too loud in relation to the soloists. Once more no subtitles are provided by Sony, and the top and bottom of the screen are blank presumably because the production is expressly designed for the different demands of High Definition video. Much as I commended the Glyndeboume/Haitink/McLaughlin version on LaserDisc, which remains a notable experience in its own terms, this one just about surpasses it by virtue of the cast and conductor being authentically Italian. We are really present on a great night at La Scala. Don't miss it on either LaserDisc or Compact Disc.'