Giovanni Pacini: "Saffo"National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland/Wexford Festival Opera Chorus/Maurizio Benini Pedaci/Pentcheva/De Candia/Ventre Marco Polo, 8.223883-4 (2 CDs, 138 mins)
Dial-a-track code: 1201
Giovanni Pacini was a thoughtful man. Uneasy about the "production-line" opera being produced by his more successful contemporaries Rossini and Donizetti, and unhappy with his own efforts to create a new kind of opera - opera which could accommodate not just easy melodies and brilliant vocal displays, but a deeper kind of emotional truth - he started work on Saffo full of energy and enthusiasm. After sketching the first few numbers, he panicked; convinced he was unable to finish the piece, he appealed to his librettist, Salvatore Cammarano, who asked him to sit at the piano and play through what he had written so far. "All of a sudden," wrote Pacini in his memoirs, "I saw the poet grow pale. `Maestro', he exclaimed, `for heavens' sake continue the work. You will give Italy a masterpiece'."
Poor old Pacini. He did dig a new path for opera, but succeeded only in paving it for the arrival of another superstar in the shape of Giuseppe Verdi - and his "masterpiece", despite being hailed as such after its premiere in 1840, was mercilessly consigned to the dustbin of operatic history. Which is where Wexford Festival Opera comes in. Dust off rare and neglected operas and give them a fair hearing, that's the name of the Wexford game: and this recording is eloquent evidence indeed in Pacini's defence, for it presents a taut and limpid reading of a work which is not only possessed of some solo moments of startling beauty and ensembles of heartbreaking anguish but is musically and dramatically engrossing from start to finish.
Gorgeous singing always helps an opera recording, of course, and there's plenty of it here, especially from the mezzo Mariana Pentcheva as Climene (the girl who gets the guy) and from the soprano Francesca Pedaci as Saffo (the girl who doesn't). But the real stars of the set are Maurizio Benini and the National Symphony Orchestra. Assure sense of pace, razor-sharp precision, delightful attention to detail and an apparently infinite palette of musical colours, from the glowing reds and golds of Climene's pre-nuptial ecstasy to the rich, dark-chocolate bitterness of Saffo's despairing suicide; this is music-making of high quality and a recording to cherish, and if it doesn't put Pacini right back up there on the operatic map, heck, there just ain't no justice in the world.
George Frideric Handel: "Orlando" Los Arts Florissants/William Christie Bardou/Mannion/Summers/Joshua/ Van der Kamp Erato 0630-14636-2 (3 CDs, 169 mins)
Dial-a-track code: 1311
When Dev conjured up the ideal of Irish womanhood in his maidens at the crossroads" speech, it is doubtful whether mezzo-sopranos dressed as men and specialising in baroque opera were quite what he had in mind; but seeing Ann Murray's masterful performance in the title role of Ariodante on TV over Christmas, and then hearing Patricia Bardon in this exquisite recording of Orlando a few days later, one does come to the conclusion that when a Handel hero is called for, an Irish mezzo is your only man. I won't even attempt to summarise the plot of Orlando - largely because I haven't figured it out yet - but rest assured that besides the usual stream of ravishing melodies it offers a love triangle of remarkable complexity and, wonder of wonders, a mad scene. Patricia Bardon is fabulously athletic as Orlando, a role of fiendish difficulty and outlandishly low tessitura; the rest is all beautiful voices and that velvety effect you get from period instruments.
Cecilia Bartoli: "Chant d'amour"
Decca, 452 667-2 (68 mins) Dial-a-track code: 1421
Will there ever be enough space in this column to devote a long and wordy review to a solo album by Cecilia Bartoli? Luckily this recital of French melodies, some with texts in Spanish, Yiddish and Greek, can be summed up in one word: essentialunsurpassablefantasticwittysensitivegloriouseffortlessjoyfuls ublime. The piano accompaniment from Myung-Whun Chung is pretty good, too.
