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    Reviewer: Raymond 
    Tuttle 
    People often complain that the 
    state of operatic singing has fallen off greatly in the last several 
    decades—who are today’s Corellis, Sutherlands, Callases, and so on? These 
    people should be reminded that, in the 1950s and 60s, nobody was singing 
    Baroque opera as well as it is being sung today, on both stages and on 
    recordings. Talent has not dried up, it’s simply been focused in other 
    areas. This is a good time, then, to explore Baroque opera. (In the 
    meantime, it seems unlikely that Aida and Faust and Lohengrin, etc., are 
    going to disappear.) 
    Julie Boulianne is a 
    French-Canadian mezzo who was born in 1978. She studied at McGill and 
    Juilliard, and has sung at the Met. I forgot that I reviewed her Mahler disc 
    in 2012, in Fanfare 35:4. I probably forgot this because I found the disc to 
    be forgettable, and I have not listened to it since. Had I remembered this, 
    I probably would not have requested this new CD of arias by Vivaldi and 
    Handel (with a few instrumental excerpts added for variety). I am glad that 
    I forgot, because it is most enjoyable. The predecessor to this disc, which 
    involves the same performers, features arias by Handel and Porpora, and I am 
    now looking forward to discovering it. 
    The program starts with “Alma 
    oppressa,” the aria that gives this disc its overall title. One is 
    immediately impressed with the warmth of Boulianne’s tone, and with her 
    ability to express the aria’s emotional content. Also, she negotiates 
    Vivaldi’s florid writing in such as way as to make it support that emotional 
    content; it is not display for the sake of display. Cecilia Bartoli’s Decca 
    recording of this same aria is most impressive, but I find her voice a 
    little too fruity and vibrato-heavy for the material. Hearing her CD, you 
    think, “Good God, that’s Bartoli!” With Boulianne, you think, “Ah yes, 
    that’s Vivaldi!,” and it makes you smile. Bartoli might have been one of the 
    singers that reopened the door to this repertoire, but Boulianne has taken a 
    comfy chair in the room behind that door. She presides over it with serene 
    authority. This might be heresy, but I think Boulianne’s recording—and not 
    just of this particular aria—will wear better as time goes on. 
    I also prefer the work of 
    harpsichordist-conductor Luc Beauséjour and his ensemble Clavecin en Concert 
    to Il Giardino Armonico on the Bartoli recording. The latter group, like 
    Bartoli herself, is dramatic but sometimes a little heavy-handed. I like the 
    more understated sparkle of Boulianne’s musical companions. 
    This disc has a playing time 
    of just under an hour. However, it’s so enjoyable that it goes by in a 
    flash. I’ve played it at home and I’ve played it in my car (stuck in 
    Northern Virginia traffic on a Saturday afternoon!), and it has enlivened 
    any situation. I’m sorry I badmouthed Boulianne’s Mahler disc; maybe the 
    Baroque repertoire is where she belongs. A pleasure.   | |
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