Suitespot

Peter Burwasser on Classical

by Peter Burwasser

Two weeks and a few days into the new year, Victoria de los Angeles, one of the most beloved singers of the 20th century, died in Barcelona, the city of her birth. She was 81. De los Angeles grew up in a humble Catalan family, and began formal musical education relatively late, while already in her teens. But she was bursting with innate musical talent, taking to several instruments as well as singing. Her soaring soprano voice very quickly became the focus of her attention, and she rapidly advanced to major Spanish stages by her early 20s.

When she stepped on the international scene, in the early 1950s, she was entering a world of giants like Maria Callas and Renata Tebaldi. Her style and demeanor were so different from those divas that she found little difficulty carving out her own niche. Callas and Tebaldi, though themselves different from one another in important ways, were both larger-than-life opera stars, spawning intensely competitive fan bases. De los Angeles never aspired to the powerfully theatrical, often thrilling portrayals of her colleagues. From the beginning of her career, she charmed her audiences with a sweetness, sense of innocence and vulnerability that, matched with her wonderfully creamy lyric soprano tone, won her legions of devoted fans almost despite her modest manner.

This anti-diva was, nevertheless, a hardworking professional with a surprisingly large repertoire that even dipped into Wagner and Strauss later in her operatic career. She was a tireless song recitalist, and performed before rapt audiences well into her 70s. When she seemed cast against type, she could confound expectations. Her Carmen, instead of appearing fiery and wicked, was slyly seductive. She made the character a complete human being, miles from the cartoon character Carmen usually becomes. Her unique performance, with the great Sir Thomas Beecham conducting, is still in the catalogue.

One character that fit her like a silk glove was Mimi, from Puccini's La Boheme. She sings the role on record in another collaboration with Beecham, this time paired with Jussi Björling, who also possessed the sort of depth and fragility (paired with one of the most beautiful-sounding tenors in recorded history) that made them a match made in operatic heaven. The recording, which has never been out of print since it was made in 1956, is on everyone's short list of greatest opera recordings of all time. When de los Angeles sings "Mi chiamano Mimi," "They call me Mimi," it is not only Rodolfo, but all who listen who fall in love.