Introductory Note
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Laudatory comments about the magnificent musicianship and artistry setting the performances of Diana Pezzi on a stratum far above all who ever attempted any of the same works are easy to write off as mere pronouncements of a proud husband were it not for one important fact. This opinion was formed in 1974, upon listening to a (phonograph) record, long before I first met Diana.
What makes her approach so special is threefold.
First, her earliest training was on the piano so as to give the perspective of a musician – not a vocalist – free of all the extraneous distractions from the expression of the music that traditionally come with voice lessons. Her only real vocal training was largely self-taught – primarily the result of her attempted parody of Helen Traubel. Due to this, none of the inhibitions usually preventing one from using a voice as an instrument (on trills, mordents, appoggiatura and the like) were ever in play.
Secondly, this most unlikely training was reinforced (“preinforced”?) by repeated exposure since earliest childhood to many of the greatest artists and composers of the day who she heard perform regularly with the Detroit and Rochester Symphony Orchestras. This discernment enabled her to approach Händel as she would Bach or even imbue the insipid writing (usually euphemistically called “charm”) of Mozart with music. Coupled with this, of course, was extensive travel yielding fluency in so many languages.
Finally there is the small matter of what, for want of any better term, is “soul” or “spirit.” Permeating every note and phrase emanating from Diana is, in its purest essence, the sweetness of character that wows anyone who ever comes into contact with her. Okay, at this point you will say that I’ve crossed any imagined line of objectivity but you’d be hard pressed to find anyone on the planet with a differing view!
One general comment about these three CDs is in order. The word “definitive” in the title of this collection is used more in the sense of being a well-rounded representation of the multi-faceted talents of an artist equally at ease in any number of diverse styles. The collection, alas, is not all-inclusive. By and large, these pieces were drawn from the many reel-to-reel tapes which have sat dormant for nearly four decades in boxes without label as to date, place or any other pertinent information.
The DefDi Dividend Disc
Explanatory Notes
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“Let the Bright Seraphim [… Blow!]” from “Samson”
by Georg Friedrich Händel
This performance was recorded in the late 1960s or early 1970s in Washington, DC at the Church of the Epiphany with Garnell Stewart Copeland at the organ. Not to minimize the question of when this piece was recorded, what is far more interesting to note in slightly more detail is the matter of musicianship mentioned in the introductory notes.
By May of 2006 (as these words are being typed) an annoying trend has emerged in recordings played on our local classical music station. In a seeming bow to some musicologists who prattle on endlessly about the “proper cadence” and way of playing the works of the 18th century – replete with far too many instances of them done on the restored (but still justifiably obsolete) instruments from those ancient times – two hideous renderings of Bach’s Third Orchestral Suite repeatedly pollute the San Francisco FM airwaves. One is by a group called Il Giardino Armonica and the other by Trevor Pinnock and the English Consort. What they do which is so ostentatiously obnoxious is to “Händel-ify” Bach.
In particular, they take the overture and speed up the opening and coda so as to lose any and all majesty that would come from the high trumpets in a “maestoso” setting. Their justification, one can only suppose, is to have the tempo not change when the fugue occurs.
They compound this atrocity by over-accentuating most grace notes rather than, as was traditional in 20th century performances, ignoring them (thereby “Beethoven-izing” Bach.) On Händel if they wish to do this, who cares? After all, Händel is just Bach without any worthwhile melody or counterpart.
But Bach?
Why go for the least common denominator? That’s the route of a sub-standard musician without any sense of art, style, aesthetics or that which makes life special and precious!
What Diana does to help this otherwise-hack writer is the exact opposite. In a stunning reversal of sorts, she “Bach-ifies” Händel. Back in December of 1975 I heard her perform the same stunt on some arias of The Messiah. On that occasion she joked about “what some people will do for vast sums of money.” although there are obvious limits to how much of this type of thing one can Händel.
Cantata ,,Liebster Jesu, mein Verlangen“ [BWV 32]
by Johann Sebastian Bach
This performance on the evening of 17 April 1962 at the Smithsonian Institution’s Division of Cultural History of the Museum of History and Technology in Washington, DC. was one of the first recital appearances Diana and Tom (Beveridge – the bass soloist) made after relocating from Boston. The oboe soloist was the late Josef Marx who had just recently retired from teaching in Hartford, playing in the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and, before that, the Pittsburgh Symphony. Marx was embarking on his final career as a recitalist, specializing in the performance of Baroque works on ancient instruments.
The old line attributed to Confucius comes to mind, “What you are yells so loud that your words can not be heard!” In this instance the music speaks immutably for itself.
Cantata ,,Jauchzet Gott in allen Landen!“ [BWV 51]
by Johann Sebastian Bach
This performance was recorded on 6 January 1963 at Saint Alban’s Episcopal Church in Washington, DC. The trumpet soloist on that occasion was the late David Flowers of the National Symphony Orchestra and the organist was Norman Scribner. Diana performed this work again in May of 1973 with the Washington Chamber Players and Singers at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.
Idomeneo – Opera in Three Acts (excerpts)
by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
This concert-performance was recorded on 4 May 1962 at Swarthmore College with Claudio Spies conducting the Swarthmore College Chorus and Orchestra. In reality, many of the orchestra members were ringers from the Philadelphia Orchestra as Spies had ample funding. The concert was subsequently broadcast on the Educational Radio Network in Philadelphia, Boston, Hartford and New York.
Diana sings the roles of both Ilia and Elektra. The tenor roles of Idomeneo and Idamante were sung by John Thomas and the “Voice from the Sea” was Tom Beveridge.
One other noteworthy tid-bit merits mention here. The dates of this performance and that of the Bach Liebster Jesu show that the rehearsals of both were interspersed.
After hearing this Mozart recording for the first time a few weeks ago, I was blown away by how one could find music in his writing. While one of her arias was playing, Diana was in the room and I asked her what she thought. Typically modest she said, “Ah, how nice to hear someone sing who doesn’t mispronounce Italian!”
Anna Bolena – Opera in Two Acts (excerpts)
by Gaetano Donizetti
This recording, made on 7 December 1959, was generously provided some four decades later by Prof. John Moriarty whose rendering of the orchestral score on piano is so beautifully done. It was from a telecast on WHDH (Channel 5) in Boston – one of the earliest in color. This also was the first performance of the work in the United States. The roles of Jane Seymour and Henry VIII were sung by Corinne Curry and Jack Davison.
Three Brief Items
by Tschaikowsky, Richard Strauß and Puccini
These were probably done in late 1975 in our apartment in Los Angeles while, as Diana put it, “goofing around.” The abrupt truncation of the endings of ,,Waldseligkeit“ and “Tu che di Gel” were the result of the telephone ringing.
Pie Jesu
by Lili Boulanger
This 1918 work was recorded in December of 1971 at the National Cathedral in Washington, DC., where Diana was soprano soloist in residence. Garnell Copeland played the organ accompaniment. The music itself would be of little consequence were it not for the amazing way the vocal lines epitomize the term “tour de force.” In particular, the manner in which some of the highest notes are approached – subito pianississimo, then crescendo and diminuendo, without any intonation suffering – is roughly akin to defying gravity.
Gloria
by Francis Poulenc
This performance was recorded in 1971 or 1973 at the Church of the Epiphany with Garnell Copeland playing organ.
“Am I Afraid?” – Act 3 of The Medium
by Gian Carlo Menotti
This final aria of Madame Flora was probably from the late 1960s or early 1970s and the piano accompaniment is by the late George Posell who was a coach at the Metropolitan Opera in New York. Once a week he would travel to Washington, DC. to direct the opera company there.
Regarding DISC 4 . . . The first twelve tracks of this extra disc are piano duets. The thirteenth is, for the most part, self-explanatory.
The first dozen were recorded when Diana was married to Ted Puffer. Requoting from a letter Diana wrote to Marianne in September, 2006:
Richard is sending you another CD of me … playing the piano this time! I’ll explain.
In 1952 Ted and I were at the Army Language School at Ft. Ord in Monterey, CA. He was studying Russian there with a whole bunch of Army guys, amongst them one Lenny Klein. I had already studied Russian at Rochester Inst. of Technology when I was in high school (at night).
When we were living in Monterey, we decided to rent an extra piano so we could play 4-hand piano pieces. It was during this time that somebody … we don’t remember who or with what … recorded us playing these pieces! The other day Richard transferred these old records to CDs, one [copy] of which we sent to Lenny. He was so happy that Richard found those old recordings.
You probably won’t like the first number, a Bach Concerto for two pianos. Of course, we like all the pieces, but we especially like Scaramouche by Darius Milhaud, the Debussy and the Jamaican Rumba by Arthur Benjamin. I remember that Egon Petri and Milhaud had been at one of our soirées where we performed their pieces for them.
Only recently, Richard found Lenny again on the internet. The last time I saw “Leonichka” was in Paris, France, in 1955 at the Gare de l’Est where I was boarding the Orient Express probably for the fifth time. I knew Lenny was studying at the Paris Conservatory, but when I tried to get him by phone, they said they didn’t know him! So I wrote him a fast letter, put it in the “pneumatique” (GREAT mail system they have), he got it within twenty minutes and made it to the train station on time for us to have a glass of wine and a baguette!
When we first moved to Sunnyvale we knew that Lenny had been teaching at Mills College (a school for girls), but we didn’t get around to seeing him. He and his wife have since moved to Ohio to be near their daughter and grandchildren. He is really old, deaf and near blind now but still the lively spirit he was.
Lenny said that he remembered being entertained by Ma and Pa Pezzi at the house at Vick Park A when we were on our way to our next post. I remembered driving Lenny from Ft. Ord to Morenci, Arizona, where his father was chief engineer for the Anaconda Copper Mine there. His mother gave me a beautiful, expensive set of Navajo jewelry, which I wear to this day. But I don’t remember seeing him in Rochester. He’s going to catch me up on that one when he e-mails us back.
The last selection is Diana performing the soprano Andante (5th movement) from Brahms’ German Requiem with the National Adventist Choral Society and Symphony, conducted by Francisco De Araujo on 23 May 1971.
The original program notes for the album had little beyond the usual biographoical stuff on Brahms except for two excerpts from the [Washington, D.C,] Evening Star review of the concert. About the soloists, the reviwer wrote, “Baritone Richard Stilwell’s work was consistently virile. He proclaimed ‘Lord, make me to know the measure of my days on Earth’ so it developed into a great choral scene of impassioned questioning.” Regarding Diana, “Diana Beveridge’s soprano solos were poignant without becoming sentimental. She made ‘Ye are now sorrowful’ match Brahms’ orchestration to a remarkable degree by using only the edge of her lustrous voice.”