It's not so hard to think oneself present, especially when the recording is as vivid as this and the performance so compelling. It was a special night in Vienna. Karl Löbl wrote it up (and partly down) for his paper at the time, and now, contributing the notes for this issue, says of his generation that they didn't know how lucky they were. He is clearly convinced that, whatever the shortcomings then, they were great times compared with the pallid present.
And it's true we have no Birgit Nilsson now.
She is in magnificent form here. Though she is singing much of the time from some way back on stage, the sound is still immensely powerful, and when she does come down front for the final duet we mentally take a step or two back. Much of the special interest, however, lies with the Calaf and the Liù. Di Stefano wins through by the conviction of all he sings: blazing, for instance, in the enigmas. Leontyne Price, too, brings unusual intensity to her role. Vibrant and warm in tone, she shades her phrases sensitively, disappointing only in that she does not resist the temptation to make an effect by investing the B flat of “Signore, ascolta” with a crescendo. The others – the aged Emperor, the deposed King and the three quaint Ministers – are strongly cast, and the chorus make a grand contribution.
Molinari-Pradelli conducts with more character than in the famous studio set, and the recording picks out details of orchestration we may well have missed in other, technically better balanced, versions.

Birgit Nilsson… is in magnificent form here. Though she is singing much of the time from some way back on stage, the sound is still immensely powerful, and when she does come down front for the final duet we mentally take a step or two back. Di Stefano wins through by the conviction of all he sings: blazing, for instance, in the enigmas. Leontyne Price, too, brings unusual intensity to her role. Molinari-Pradelli conducts with more character than in the famous studio set...