Amy Shuard.(Review)

Amy Shuard

[] Arias by Verdi, Mascagni, Puccini, Giordano, Tchaikovsky. Royal Opera House Orchestra, Covent Garden, Downes; Royal Philharmonic, Weldon. No texts or translations. Dutton CDCLP 4006 (Harmonia Mundi, dist.)

Like her great predecessor, Eva Turner, and distinguished successor, Josephine Barstow, soprano Amy Shuard was a beloved star of the London opera scene, making her debut with the city's "second company" (in her day it was Sadler's Wells; in Turner's, Carl Rosza; in Barstow's, ENO), moving up to Covent Garden, then making appearances at other major houses but not at the Met. She continued singing until her untimely death, in 1975 at age fifty. During the 1960s there was a great deal of buzz about Shuard, even in New York, and in 1962 an aria recital was made for EMI, which has now been released on CD, along with a 1961 Onegin letter scene.

Long after the Met became a truly international house with a revolving door of guest artists, British companies still nurtured their own, and in this atmosphere a singer such as Shuard, with her strong interpretive feel and powerful instrument, was able to leave a gallery of portrayals that are still remembered and discussed by London old-timers. The parallel with Barstow seems apt from a repertory standpoint: like her, Shuard excelled in roles of enormous intensity, such as Kata Kabanova, Giorgetta (Il Tabarro), Magda Sorel (The Consul), even Eboli. In vocal terms, Shuard hovers somewhere between her two aforementioned compatriots; she was, in fact, coached as Turandot by Turner. Another influence was the great soprano Rosetta Pampannini, with whom Shuard studied in Milan in 1953-54, and from whom she learned some of the secrets of Italian style, put to good use in her Nedda, Butterfly, Tosca and Giorgetta (Il Tabarro). As the voice darkened, Shuard took on Lady Macbeth, Aida, Brunnhilde, Kundry and finally Elektra.

We do not have souvenirs of Shuard's more adventurous opera portrayals. EMI'S aria disc took the well-worn Verdi/Puccini path, a route so heavily trafficked that it is difficult to make the kind of individual statement she doubtless made in the opera house. The disc opens with Aida's "Ritorna vincitor," Edward Downes and the Covent Garden forces giving the opening bars an unforgettable explosion of sound, matched by the huge-voiced outburst of the soprano. The Shuard instrument is dark, but with a steely cutting edge, as well as a surprisingly supple piano when called for, as in the beautifully floated "Numi pieta" section. Aida's "O patria mia" fares less well. The recitative is full of suspense, the low notes unforced yet vibrant. But the slightly throttled quality of her basic tone, a certain bumpy approach to dynamics (some markings are ignored, although she's hardly the first to do that), and a blasted high C in lieu of the dolce requested, make this a less fortunate choice. It must be said, ...