The death of a classical musician is a moment of loss, but it’s also a moment of rediscovery. Especially when the musician in question is someone like Slovak soprano Edita Gruberová, whose death in Zürich this past Monday, October 18, was an opportunity for fans and houses alike to pay tribute to some of her greatest performances. In one of the earliest examples of her work, a 1968 recital from Czechoslovak television, you can hear much of what would define the next 51 years of her career: an almost effortless upper range, a fluid yet pinpoint-precise coloratura, and an irrepressible joy in the music itself.
Gruberová had her moments of stepping outside the bel canto genre (including one of the hottest Saint-Sulpice scenes in Massenet’s “Manon”), but she made a career out of the genre’s classics and rarities, never abandoning them as a stepping stone to more dramatic or lyric repertoire. The open style of bel canto vocals—emotionally-guided melodies over simple, elegant rhythms—leaves little room for the singer to hide. Not that Gruberová needed a reason to hide. In this repertoire, she was completely herself and utterly at home.
An Edita Gruberová Playlist
Bel canto, Eros, and malfunctioning mechanical dolls
