The 12 Puccini arias included give ample scope for Farrell to exhibit her many qualities. “O mio babbino caro” announces a voice that is not in itself small of scale, yet it can handle finely drawn lines with some sensitivity. “Quando me’n vo” reveals Musetta to be the “tart with a heart” she should be. Farrell and Max Rudolf pull out the stops for the big tune, as well they might; the approach is a feature of this disc. The more reflective character of “Sì, mi chiamano Mimì” suits Farrell’s voice better, however, and the evenness of her vocal control is notable. So is the sheer range of color she finds to enrich her interpretations: “Donde lieta usci” is velvet-smooth; “Chi il bel sogno” makes up for actual youthfulness by projecting much of the emotion behind the words. And with what ease she floats the high line! Tosca, the arch prima donna, is a role about as far from Eileen Farrell as it is possible to imagine, but her reading of “Vissi d’arte” nonetheless carries the conviction of a singer who took her art seriously.

Nice as these performances are, there is a certain sameness about them: the tempo changes little from item to item and the Columbia orchestra play so richly that Farrell’s voice sounds as if it rests upon the most luxurious of comforters. It is good, however, that Farrell does shade where she can to alter the scale of her interpretations, as illustrated by “In quelle trine morbide” and “Tu che di gel sei cinta.” Farrell’s chief attraction, though, is the honeyed tone she pours out so freely.

Urgency finally makes an appearance with the brief snatch of accompanied recitative before “Un bel di vedremo.” Turandot’s “In questa reggia” sounds at first to be almost too leisurely, but Farrell makes the reflective element of the aria seem effective, even if Rudolf does not crank up the tempo as much or as fast as he should. When under pressure, Farrell sounds at a slight distance, whereas intimate passages have the voice placed noticeably forward. A slight pity that Calaf’s replies are absent—how the sparks might have flown, had the recording not used the “concert” adaptation of the music.

The other arias “in the grand tradition” included here help to round out the picture one gets of Farrell’s art. Gluck’s Alceste was the work in which she first appeared at the Met in 1960; here, her singing carries legato fluency and conviction in every bar. Brian Kellow’s affectionate notes recall Farrell remarking that the voice break was “a bunch of bull” (she was lucky, many singers will tell you), and that for her “Fach was nothing but a four-letter word.” The Beethoven items, particularly “Abscheulicher,” illustrate the first remark. Agathe’s arias from Der Freischütz, given with tenderness, reinforce how at home she could sound in German repertoire. It may not be the most individual arias recital around, but it is an enjoyable one.

FANFARE: Evan Dickerson