For me the human voice is the instrument that gives me the most pleasure and excitement and I have spent most of my life collecting unusual and exceptional voices from around the world. I am no expert, I cannot read music or play any musical instrument, (or sing in tune for that matter); I just listen and enjoy.

Giovanni Martinelli is for me the greatest tenor of the recorded era: what I wouldn’t give to have heard live his performances of Otello or Il Travatore. Luckily he was quite well recorded, albeit not always in the best quality, (his best recordings were made between about 1915 and 1941 so that is not so surprising), but they do none-the-less capture the excitement and quality of the voice. A short biography of Martinelli can be found here, Biography, whilst reviews and opinions about him can be found here, Reviews. If you have patience or broadband, (the file size is 5.7Mbyte), listen to a heart-rending performance of Rachel, quand du Seigneur from La Juive, Act IV, Scene 1, recorded in 1927 .

If you are interested in how I recorded the audio clips then have a look here, Recording

In the rest of this section I would like to share with you some heart stopping moments from other singers, not just operatic but from a variety of genres: I have tried to include a few audio clips where possible. I hope you will find the selections suitably eclectic, controversial and interesting.

This page was last updated on 25th April 2009.

After all the moving around and having to leave nearly all my CDs in Thailand I have finally started doing something about restoring my music collection. I bought an i-Pod, mostly for my travels, but it is a convenient way of buying music as well. I am surprised by the rather eclectic mixture of albums available on i-Tunes, which whilst missing some rather obvious artists, also contains some gems such as this. Try the track E Passerà la Viva Creatura from the little performed Isabeau opera. As this article attests, the 'music was exceedingly difficult for the singers' and the part of Folco 'would test the limits of any tenor on the lyric stage today' Although Mascagni is known mostly for Cavelleria Rusticana, which is wonderful, I have a lot of time for his other operas and rather wish I could find a complete performance of Isabeau. However I have found these 1962 performances on line, Act 1 and Acts 2 and 3, where the tenor role is taken by Pier Miranda Ferraro. The only other tenors I can find who have recorded extracts of this role are Del Monaco and Bernardo de Muro who I mentioned above, which may well indicate just how difficult this role is.

Lying in our Thailand vaults are two other, (other than Cavelleria that is), complete operas by Mascagni. The first is Lodoletta which is a little thin but includes two impassioned tenor arias which on my version are exceedingly well sung by Hungarian tenor Peter Kelen. I found this exert of him singing Che Gelida Manina on YouTube.

The other opera I have of Mascagni is Iris with the tenor role sung by Placido Domingo; he is not my favourite tenor but, firstly, I admire him for taking on this little performed role, and secondly, he sings it very well. This is typical of the sort of reviews Iris receives:

The scene of the mousmés in the first act with iris’s song to the flowers of her garden, "In pure stille"; the vague, yet unmistakable hum of Japanese melody in the opening of Act II; and her narrative in the scene with Osaka in the same act, "Un di al tempio" (One day at the temple) -- these, with the hymn to the sun, are about the only passages that require mention.

I must admit I don't agree with this, there are some wonderful moments in the opera; the famous tenor aria, Apri la tua finestra, (famous in that most of the older tenors always included the aria in their repertory), and the final Hymn, Inno al Sole, is majestic in my opinion. There are also lots of other touches, I remember the spoken words against the music and the Japanese influence which Puccini adopted for Madame Butterfly, (Puccini was present at the Milan premiere of Iris).

Saturday afternoons in the UK used to be 'B' movie time and I noticed in a number of these movies, usually featuring Mexican Aztec or Egyptian tales that they finished atop a pyramid of some description with a woman singing to the masses below. Her voice was remarkable: she did not sing any words that were recognisable, but she trilled like a bird and had a fantastic range. My mother told me she was Yma Sumac but it was many years later that I thought to find out about her. My mother said she could span seven octaves, but it seems (and much of her story seems woven with myth), she can span a barely credible five octaves. The CD on the left from Elect is from a live concert she gave in Russia in 1961. The sleeve notes tell us she gave 30 concerts in the Lenin Stadium, each a sellout to 80,000 people! Her voice is not always ingratiating, but it is quite remarkable, and there is something special about her, perhaps she was descended from the Gods as she claims. Listen to this live performance of her from 1961.

The tenor Miguel Fleta is most probably most famous today for having premiered the role of Calaf in Turandot (albeit only because of all sorts of political shennaighans which prevent Lauri-Volpi or Martinelli doing so). His lyric tenor voice could probably not do justice to such a role, but non-the-less he is capable of some breathtaking moments, as you can hear here in his version of E Lucevan le stelle which can be found on the CD is Lebendige Vergangenheit Mono 89002.

Let us turn now to one of, if not the, highest note ever recorded, a B flat above the top C. This stratospheric note is recorded live by the French soprano Mado Robin on this CD, LC 14-265. The volume is not great and the tone not so ingratiating, but it is remarkable for all that: make your own mind up here.

I have to mention Giacomo Lauri Volpi, a unique voice that harks back to the old bel-canto school of the 19th century. Lauri Volpi possessed a remarkable top extension to his voice and took on some of the most difficult roles in the reportoire. He sang until his eighties and recordings exist of some of his last live concert performances, when, despite his age of 70+ he continued to sing arias such as Nessun Dorma and A te, o cara from I Puritani. He has a fanatical following akin to that of Martinelli, but he had an abrasive personality that alienated a lot of people: but not me, I can forgive him murder with a voice like that. Try this CD (Bongiovanni GB1107-2), for some of his most interesting performances across his career, mostly live, including a live Nessun Dorma when he was aged 80, and listen to this performance of A te o Cara from I Puritani to see if you get hooked as I have. A live extract of him singing Gli Ugonotti may further convince you.

Although I tend to prefer individual singers to groups or choirs I did have a brief flirt with Gregorian chant and was reminded of the beauty of that singing when I found this CD, from BBC Music magazine, of Rachmaninoff's Vespers (All Night Vigil). Voice is the only instrument used: try this small exert as the tenor gives way to a hushed bass descent to a low B flat.

Most people will be aware that the operatic tenors keynote is the high C, (indeed Pavarotti was known as the King of the High Cs). So let us continue with him and some other singers who flirted with the top of the stave (if that is the right musical term). Pavarotti already had growing a reputation when he was encouraged by Richard Bonynge to take on the bel canto repertoire of Donizetti and Bellini. For the former his outstanding mark was his live and later recorded performances in La Fille Du Regiment which includes an aria requiring the tenor to hit 9 (or 11?) top Cs (more than some tenors hit in a lifetime). I quote the CD sleeve notes of John Steane:

‘It was this opera that which brought Pavarotti his first major success in New York, in 1972. He had sung at the Metropolitan first in 1968 but it was those nine high Cs in 'Ah, mes amis' that set the house buzzing. Covent Garden [London Opera House] had buzzed six years earlier, and he had sung the role at La Scala, Milan. The recording session had also become famous in legend, as the top Cs multiplied in retakes while their source remained apparently inexhaustible throughout.'

Other tenors have attempted this aria, most notably Alfredo Kraus, but for me none has the total freedom and élan of Pavarotti. He returned to this role towards the end of the career at the New York Met but I understand that a cold meant that he did not hit the notes and hit B flats instead, no mean achievement for a man of 60-odd, but obviously comparisons were inevitable and the critics had their pencils out, sharpened. Here is a live version from 1969.

Incidentally on that same CD Pavarotti also hits a high D, on the track Deserto in Terra, an otherwise un-notable aria from Don Sebastiano. The CD is from Decca, No. 417 638-2.

Pavarotti also took on Bellini’s I Puritani at this time that includes a written high F, usually ignored by tenors: however Pavarotti hits it on a complete recording, using a different falsetto voice, (a lot of the high notes that used to be performed were not written by the composer and were embellishments or grace notes added by the singers to add dramatic effect and more usually to show off: why not if you have it?). Here is that performance.

But if you wish to hear a (live!) performance with a tenor hitting the note full voice (with admittedly a light lyric tenor voice) then you should listen to the remarkable William Matteuzzi on Nuova Era's live recording from 1989, also conducted by Richard Bonynge (CD2, Track 10, Credeasi, misera). You can listen to that performance here. If you want more of William Matteuzzi, this live performance of La Scala di Seta also includes a top F and much else besides.

Away from opera now: whatever happened to Solomon King? His 1968 hit, which reached no.6 on 3rd February 1968 in the UK top ten, She Wears my Ring, is a favourite on the BBC’s Radio 2 playlist and shows off one of those free voices with a brilliant top (listen to the last note).
I am surprised he didn't have more success; this is the only information I can find out on him.

My favourite opera is Il Travatore, that Caruso once said of ‘to stage Il Travatore just take the four best singers in the world’. There are many notable arias in this opera but one which certainly can make the hairs stand on end is Di Quella Pira at the end of Act III. There are many fabulous versions of this aria, ending in a long held top C, including those by Jussi Bjorling (my favourite version, although not the one I link to here unfortunately), Lauri-Volpi, Pertile and Pavarotti. I should also quote here from the sleeve notes of Giovanni Martinelli on the appropriateness of hitting this high C (unwritten by Verdi), which I hope lays to rest some counter arguments on its unmusicality by critics and singers:

‘The two high Cs in the Di Quella Pira! are another story. Let me tell it to you. The tenor Enrico Tamberlik was the first in the early 1860's to insert the Cs in the score. Tamberlik had much success with the high Cs in the smaller opera houses of Italy and Spain, but finally the day arrived when he had to sing Travatore at La Scala. This was a horse of a different colour, so the tenor sat down, pen in hand, and wrote to Verdi explaining the accidental enthusiasm which had inspired the Cs and said that the public had loved the innovation. Tamberlik then requested permission to use the Cs in a La Scala performance. Verdi drily replied that he never argued with the public and it would be alright for Tamberlik to use the Cs. 'But', warned the composer, 'when the Cs are no longer good ones, go back to the way I wrote the aria.' And so, all tenors since, including myself, took that liberty.' (quoted from the sleeve notes of the triple LP, Giovanni Martinelli, In Memoria, Private Record Edition).

When I had my own company in the UK, I remember working one Sunday watching a performance on Channel 4 of Il Travatore, live from the Arena de Verona in Italy (see this link Arena di Verona for this fantastic venue). The performance had already shown its worth as demonstrated by my many stoppages at work to listen and needless to say I stopped in anticipation of this aria. The tenor was Franco Bonisolli, renowned for his high notes including performances of William Tell (a notoriously difficult opera with 15 high Cs or above) and he gave a stirring performance that brought the house down. However the Italians obviously knew something I didn’t and imagine my amazement as he gestured to the conductor to do an (even longer held) reprise. This extraordinary performance can be found on VHS (NVC Arts) and you can also hear and view a concert performance here, with encore.

Unfortunately Bonisolli died in 2003: you can find a short obituary of him here: Obituary.This reprise was not without precedence so I was to later find with a rather poorly recorded (live) version by Franco Filippeschi in 1957 (Bongiovanni GAO101/2, CD2 Track 9 and the reprise Track 10). If you can hear through the ‘bravas’ though I think you might agree it would have been a night to remember. Here is Filippeschi singing Corriam from the afore mentioned William tell.

The Flower song from Carmen includes at the end a floated top B (it is after all a love song). However often this is hit full voice (I think because of the difficulty of such a note being hit with a ‘spinto’ voice, Martinelli talks of the difficulty he had with the mezza-voce high B at the end Celeste Aida, which Verdi allowed to be hit full voice: although Carlo Bergonzi shows how it can be done, as does perhaps surprisingly, Jon Vickers). However totally without any style is Mario del Monaco’s jaw-dropping high note in this live performance (and I would be with the rest of cheering crowd, to hell with etiquette). Enjoy that note here:
Just for fun on the same CD you could listen to most over-the-top sobbing finale to Vesti la Giubba from I Pagliacci I have ever heard, also lapped up by the crowd. The CD no. is Virtuoso, 2697132.

Whilst we are on the subject of Mario del Monaco, he and Franco Corelli, for me vie for the position of greatest performer of the finale of Andrea Chenier. As I first heard Corelli in this role, with Renata Tebaldi, I guess he just shades it. Here is Corelli from 1963.

Let us return briefly to Franco Bonisolli for this flamboyant performance of La Donna Mobile. This is a real showman.

Try Track 16 of this CD (Bongiovanni GB 1077-2). On it you will find an extracts of a live performance of Turandot and in particular on this track, Non piangere Liu and also the final scene of Act I. The scene culminates with Calaf, here sung by Daniele Barioni, holding a top C while proceeding to pick up a hammer to sound the gong and start to riddle sequence of Act II. Most (all) tenors usually sound the top C and then ring the gong. Barioni holds the note whilst apparently walking across the stage and throughout the ringing of the gong, not only an heart stopping note, but held unfalteringly for what seems like an eternity, and live. Enjoy that note at the end of this extract.

Once addicted listen to the other tracks on the CD and the remarkable top C at the end of the riddle scene (Track 17). What we wouldn't give for a tenor like him now (although he would probably be shot to pieces by critics). It is very difficult to find anything about him and this CD is all I have of him but he appears to have been on radio performances a lot so material must exist. A recording of Puccini's La Rondine appears to be available, RCA 60459-4.

My favourite musical is Carousel, probably more opera than musical, with great songs and great music and quite a dark story line. If I loved You has one of the most beautiful melodies, Sililoquy is one of the greatest arias ever written, and who can failed to be moved by the finale. This soundtrack CD features Shirley Jones and Gordon MacRae, both superb singers, although it is interesting to know how different it would have been had Frank Sinatra taken the role of Curly in the movie, as had been intended. Let's enjoy a resounding top note from Robert Rounseville.

I first noticed Joe Longthorne as a singing impressionist in a show stopping performance at the Royal Variety Show on TV in the UK. However he has one hell of a voice without hiding it behind someone elses, and it is a shame he was born at a time at which singing seems to be a neglected talent. He has one of those voices that always seems to have another gear to go to, try his performance of Joanna on this CD or his show stopper, Somewhere. I have seen him live and the voice is exciting and fresh, possibly even better than his recordings. This is an excellent website about him Joe Longthorne which also details his fight against leukaemia: I earnestly hope he wins this battle, we need singers like him. Here why in this final note from possibly my favourite song, Somewhere.

There used to be religious program on UK TV, I think called Stars on Sunday, and presented by Jess Yates. I used to watch it with my mother because of the singers he used to get on it. One of the singers was a huge Russian man (he isn't Russian, he is German, but his parents were Russian), dressed like a bear, who had the lowest, highest voice I had ever heard.

After the show ended it was difficult to find anything about him apart from a couple of imported LPs. However later he started to be played again on BBC Radio 2, and through requests the BBC released a couple of CDs. I am told he can span 4.5 octaves, but in this section it is his low notes that I will highlight and in particular the furniture shaking low note of Im Tiefen Keller on the BBC CD CD 778. His name is Ivan Rebroff. Rebroff is a bass with a falsetto high that is a high a soprano. You can find more about him here Ivan Rebroff and here Ivan Rebroff Biography; unfortunately he died in 2008.

Ivan Rebroff's track, The Legend of Twelve Robbers could be highlighted for its high and low notes, but I highlight here for the remarkable long note that he holds towards the end of the song, and almost without a pause, straight into another. The performance is live in Paris (Elisar CD IC 8793). Click here to hear that note from a live performance at Carnegie hall. We could dwell for a long time on Ivan Rebroff, but before we move on have a listen to this comic song, Im Tiefen Keller, and this remarkable low note as he falls into a drunken stupor.

My next singers are all 'crooners', but such is the ease of their voices they all can produce exceptional moments. Andy Williams is a singer I have long admired: his voice is easy but is beautiful and with a fantastic range and greath breath control. I don't know if this LP (shown below) is available on CD, but if it is try to buy it. The performance of Ave Maria (track 4) not only shows his range, but also finishes in one the longest (and highest) notes I have ever heard. And it sounds like he could still be holding it today, such is the absence of any strain on the voice. Click here to hear that note.

Often compared to Andy Williams, Johnny Mathis also is capable of that heart stopping moment as you can hear here , an incredible long held note from a live performance I captured a long a time ago from the BBC which I do not think is available on any CD. And look at this video which, if it is to be believed, shows him holding a note for a barely credible 1m 40s.

Another favourite 'crooner' of mine is Vic Damone. He is more known for his ability to sing beautifully with great phrasing, but live he takes more liberties as you can hear here in this note from Little Green Apples. The CD is Vic Damone, 20 Classic Songs - Live.

Another 'crooner' who could amaze is Gene Pitney who unfortunately died recently. My mother's favourite song of his was I'm Gonna be Strong. I can vouch for the fantastic last note as I have seen him perform it live.

Mandy Patinkin is a hugely successful broadway star and I would like to highlight here for singing that wonderful song from South Pacific, You've got to be carefully taught. What fantastic lyrics that song has and what credit Patinkin gives them, a fantastic impassioned performance. You can find it on this CD, Nonesuch, LC 0268.

You've got to be taught

To hate and fear,
You've got to be taught
From year to year,
It's got to be drummed
In your dear little ear
You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade,
You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught before it's too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate,
You've got to be carefully taught!

I once saw Patinkin sing on Terry Wogan's chat show (in the UK). A singing guest was invariably asked to sing with the resident band, but when invited, he just asked for a single note to tune to and then proceeded to give a fabulous unaccompanied performance of the Al Jolson classic, Sonny Boy, which Woger's was I think astonished by. You can find a studio performance of that on the CD pictured above, and whilst at it I would also listen to Brother, Can you spare a dime, another impassioned performance. Here that last impassioned plea here. Patinkin is a truly great singer.

I would now like to choose the extraordinary French soprano, Emma Calve. She is probably most renowned now for her portrayal of Carmen, but on the Pearl CD of all her known recordings (GEMM CDS 9482), it is a song that I want to draw your attention to, Ma Lisette, recorded sometime between 1907 and 1916 (Track 13).This largely unaccompanied song ends with stratospheric note that is as pure as any as I have ever heard, from a singer more known for her emotion and beauty of voice. I quote from the sleeve notes and the renowned critic Herman Klein, '...[her voice]...seemed to have the sombre quality of of a contralto miraculously impinged upon the acute timbre of a soprano - the best voice of all for the expression of mental anguish, suffering, pleading, and despair'. Hear it here. This extraordinary note appears to be an exhibition of her 'fourth voice' which again according to her sleeve notes is a vocal trick she she learned from a castrato in Rome ('an unusually high note with and eerie, faraway sound, produced with the mouth shut').

My next choice may seem a little unusual because I have chosen a tenor, Chris Merritt, to illustrate a low note; perhaps all the more remarkable because he is more known for his extreme high notes in Rossini and Donizetti. Have listen here: The extract is from Rossini's opera, Elisabetta. I saw Chris Merritt live at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York, some years ago now, in I Puritani. I remember my amazement as he shot those high notes out across the audience. Although he has chieved quite a degree of fame, I wonder what a Toscanini could have made of him? This exert from Zelmira shows his range off spectacularly.