Nathan Granner, Daniel Montenegro and Mauricio O'Reilly, The American Tenors [Dublin Chamber Choir, Sinfonia Varsovia; Frank McNamara, conductor] (Sony Classical, SK-87893)
I confess that I sort-of liked the original idea of "The Three Tenors," that blockbuster concert originally recorded almost fourteen years ago that featured Luciano Pavarotti, Placido Domingo, and Jose Careras on the same concert stage, belting out concert versions of opera arias and popular songs, frequently together. There was a "star quality" there, even if the results were not exactly what one might consider the zenith of music-making. It could be justifiably derided as a "stunt," but the classical music world is no more devoid of stunts than any other -- consider Nicolo Paganini, the great 19th century violin virtuoso who used to cut three of his strings and then perform amazing deeds on the single, remaining string in the middle of his concerts.
That first concert took place in Rome and was something of a smash success, especially once the televised version hit American public broadcasting. Then it really took off, becoming a staple at "pledge time" (that period, a couple of times a year, when PBS stations trot out their best shows while they beg audiences for financial contributions that make those shows possible in the first place). So a sequel took place four years later, to coincide with the 1994 World Cup finals in Los Angeles. This concert was performed before 60,000 people at Dodger Stadium. The music was even more over-the-top than before, with Itzhak Perlman providing running commentary that bordered at times on the orgasmic; this was "The Three Tenors" with the amps turned up to the proverbial "11."
After that, the Three Tenors entered the rarefied air of pop culture. I still remember a joke from Tim Allen's sit-com Home Improvement (at the time one of TV's most popular shows), in which Tim says something like, "I'll let you listen to those Three Tenors you like -- you know, Paparazzi, Manicotti and Flamingo." And Tim's wife responds, "You realize you just named a photographer, a noodle, and a bird?" I don't recall Tim's punchline to this series of jokes, but the live studio audience seemed to think it was a knee-slapper.
So, where could the idea of "Three Tenors" go from there? Well, I was always surprised that a "Three Sopranos" never took flight -- imagine the drama of Kathleen Battle, Kiri Te Kanawa, and Renee Fleming sharing a stage -- or, perhaps, instrumentalists: "Three Fiddlers," maybe, or "Three Trumpeters." Those never came to pass, though; what we got were essentially variations on the "Three Tenors" idea. The big one was "The Irish Tenors," which featured three guys doing essentially the same thing as the Italian ones, but which Irish accents (with "Danny Boy" in place of "Celeste Aida"); and now, we have "The American Tenors."
When this CD arrived, I tried thinking of who the American Tenors could possibly be. I haven't paid too much attention to the opera world in recent years, but I figured I would have heard of at least one of these fellows. Not so, unfortunately; the names of Nathan Granner, Daniel Montenegro, and Mauricio O'Reilly are totally unknown to me, and aggravatingly, the CD booklet provides absolutely no biographical information on any of them. All the booklet offers is the information that these three singers were "chosen as the result of an exhaustive national search," implying that first, someone specifically decided that we need an American version of the Three Tenors, and second, that the state of American singing is apparently such that three "first choices" were not immediately obvious -- hence the "nationwide search." (I finally did find biographical information at the American Tenors' official Web site, where I also learned that Mr. O'Reilly has already left the group.)
So, what to say about the CD itself? Well, not much, really. I'm not sure what word they apply to this genre of recording these days -- "classical crossover," maybe. It's pretty much the same kind of thing we've already heard from the Three Tenors, the Three Irish Tenors, and whoever else: operatic standards and popular songs -- some from Broadway, some old American folk tunes -- arranged for, well, tenors and orchestra. You get "O sole mio" and that old Italian chestnut, "Funiculi, Funicula," side-by-side with "Shenandoah," "When Johnny Comes Marching Home" and "Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair." The disc features a medley of tunes from West Side Story and closes with "America the Beautiful."
The singing is nice enough; these guys are decent tenors, even if it's kind of hard to tell, since the main point is to do lots of belting and not a lot of shading. But this recording did not add up to a pleasant listening experience, I'm sorry to say; there is no authentic feel to the music here. I didn't get the feeling that I was listening to a selection of American music -- for that, I'd suggest recordings of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir or those grand old records Robert Shaw used to do. The Italian songs seemed to be present for no other reason than, well, what else would we expect opera guys to sing but Italian songs. And so on. This disc feels more like a product being sold than a musical recording, unfortunately.
If you're interested in the idea of three tenors, get the original recording. Sure, it was a stunt, but classical music history is full of stunts and that one at least had some musical pedigree. Or get the Irish Tenors, who at least do Irish ballads (although, again, not terribly authentically). But don't bother with The American Tenors: there really are better ways to support American music than by purchasing this product.
Visit The American Tenors Web site here.
