I think it was Igor Stravinsky who said that “anyone who puts two words together about music is wrong” . . . and I must say that I agree. Music is like humor; if you have to explain it, there’s just no point. Either you get it or you don’t. But I suppose that if I am going to devote a sizable section of my web site to Renata Tebaldi, I suppose I should offer at least some justification.
Who’s to say why Tebaldi’s voice affects me so? It just does. The first time I heard her was at a difficult time in my life, one when I’d made a decision that while undoubtedly the right one, was going to be difficult. And when I first heard Tebaldi, I began to cry—though I had no idea why. Turns out she was singing the aria “Ebben . . . Ne andrò lontana” from Catalani’s La Wally. Wally, the daughter of a wealthy Swiss landowner, is forced to choose between an arranged marriage and death in exile. She chooses the latter in order to be true to herself. I guess that particular message appealed to me at that time, but there was something more appealing still . . .
They say that Tebaldi has the voice of an angel; but I think she has the voice of a human. Her voice and phrasing have a frailty, a vulnerability that makes her characters infinitely human.
And in that way, her greatest roles proved to be those of “good” women who find themselves in bad situations: Mimì, Angelica, Lauretta, Liù, Aïda, Wally, Adriana—and above all, Desdemona.
In fact, Tebaldi’s rendition of Desdemona’s Willow Song and Ave Maria (from the Karajan recording) is quite possibly the greatest moment in the history of recorded music.
So that’s my two cents—and it was far more than two words.