Naxos claims to reissue the first recording but it is actually the second, in four acts. Its main drawback is the series of niggling cuts, caused by EMI's philistine policy at the time of hacking all Italian operas to a Procrustean bed of two LPs (if three were required) or three LPs (if, as here, four were needed). Apart from that, Santini conducts pretty well and the' cast is splendid. The first voice we hear is the thrilling Monk of Plinio Clabassi. Gobbi is in his best estate, as is Christoff, and their scenes really crackle Neri, as on Cetra, is simply the best Inquisitor ever. I never thought I should write this, but coming back to Filippeschi's Don Carlo after some time away, I like him: his gleaming tone is under control and he actually sings sensitively when required. The women are pretty good, Stella caught a year or two too early but in lovely voice, Nicolai fully involved once she has the Veil Song out of the way. Mark Obert-Thorn has coaxed quite good sound out of the LPs but it is no match for the recently deleted EMI transfer (5 67479-2), especially in the auto-da-fé scene, which distorts badly on Naxos. The bonuses are familiar: Björling and Merrill in duet; Thebom's superb Veil Song; Pinza's dignified Columbia of Philip's scene, not as good as Pasero's Cetra; Anderson's rather unoperatic 'O don fatale'; Battistini's terrific death scene; and Seinemeyer's big aria.
The 1958 five-act Visconti production at Covent Garden is regarded as a landmark by those British critics who think nothing exists until they have noticed it. Yes, it was a great occasion, with Giulini conducting a wonderful cast which would have been even more wonderful, had Neri not died just weeks earlier. Michael Langdon sings manfully but is no substitute. The heroine of the hour is Gré Brouwenstijn, who delivers perhaps the most complete Elisabetta to be heard on record. Her Don Carlo, Jon Vickers, is not very Italianate but in every other way fills his role magnificently. Gobbi tends to hector and, without the visual element, falls short of his earlier sell. Christoff is, as ever, solid as a rock. Barbieri, like Nicolai, has trouble with her first aria but after that gives full value. Giulini gets good playing from the strings but the brass are a little accident-prone. A disappointment is that the 'new' transfer sounds much like all the others that have circulated. Paul Baily has tweaked it a bit but from a series such as this, one expects an authoritative source. One of the best aspects is the conversation between Roger Beardsley and Lord Harewood, full of interesting insights and memories.
Giulini's 1970 studio version is now a Great Recording of the Century. Coming back to it, I am struck again by Caballé, operating at the outer limit of her repertoire and range but with full conviction Lovely! Verrett is the best Eboli on show here, wholly convincing. Domingo has of course grown in stature in the intervening years but his youthful ardour is welcome. I fear Milnes always strikes me as a pale imitation of Warren (who in turn is a paler version of Galeffi); but in his throaty way he sings impressively. What a pity Raimondi, so kingly in his exchanges with other characters, falls short in his soliloquy both vocally and dramatically. No Pasero he, but a comparative lightweight. Having cut the insurrection scene in 1958, Giulini here restores it. His conducting already shows signs of his later over-insistence on legato but it has beautiful 'finish'. The sound seems to improve with each reissue.
If you want everything that Verdi wrote, in French, you need the Opera Rara set, which has given me much pleasure – chiefly owing to John Matheson's well-phrased direction. It features very decent singing by a largely Francophone cast – the first voice, singing in questionable French, is the Monk of a young Robert Lloyd, very stentorian. Everyone sings valiantly, although Andre Turp takes a while to find his freest voice and the resonant acoustic emphasises the cavernous tone production of Joseph Rouleau – his adversary the Inquisitor is that excellent trouper Richard Van Allan. I recall Robert Savoie from a visit he made to South Africa: he makes a good effort, even essaying a trill. Edith Tremblay, who can be heard on various live French recordings, is stretched by her role but comes through. Michelle Vilma is a committed, almost contralto Eboli. The orchestra and chorus do wonders, the BBC tapes have been nicely refurbished, the audience is quiet and the presentation is sumptuous.