“Tosca”—yet another one. OperaDIS lists no fewer than 250 recordings, but stops short after the year 2009. For all we know, the newest release—by DG—may be the 500th in an endless loop of “recondite armonie.”

But “Tosca” has not lost its appeal, and any new, star-studded interpretation is likely to elicit widespread attention. This is most certainly the case when Jonathan Tetelman, Eleonora Buratto, and Ludovic Tézier are involved. Yet while they leave little to be desired on paper, in reality their “Tosca” is merely satisfactorily sound. It lacks cohesion and, despite conductor Harding’s very best efforts, struggles to reconcile his quasi-symphonic lead with the (melo-)dramatic flow.

Grit Over Grace?

Most strikingly, Tézier foists an entirely superfluous set of histrionics on the performance. For instance, his manipulation—in Act one—is spoiled by a prematurely sardonic laugh. Surely, there is irony to Scarpia’s indignation (“In chiesa!”), but is there any real reason for Tézier to cackle at Tosca’s despair? From a dramatic point of view, I do not think so. Neither did Puccini, who marked “scandalizzato, quasi rimproverandola.”

In Act two, Tézier’s phrasing veers toward the declamatory, much as his snarly inflections betray a tendency to overact. They sharply contrast with the voice’s slenderness, its inherent nobility, and tonal expanse. In other words: one regrets that Tézier opted for an altogether gritty impersonation of the Roman chief of police. His many qualities (think of his Rodrigo, for example) did not predispose him to it.

A Polished “Victory!”

Tetelman, on the other hand, stays well within the limits of his part. The notorious “Vittoria,” while muscular, bears no sign of machismo—or the musical equivalent thereof. It is beautifully timed and spot-on in terms of dramatic intensity.

Always careful not to overstep, Tetelman gives a clean and irreproachable interpretation of Cavaradossi. In the duets too, he does not impose his clarion sound. For example, the transition from “s’affisa intero” to “occhio all’amor soave” is not your usual showpiece; rather, it retains all its unobtrusive subtlety. Yet if criticism—or just comparison—be permitted, Tetelman does not electrify the way he did in both of his recitals. His renditions had more body then, particularly as far as “Recondita armonia” is concerned.

Of a Conservative Mindset

And how about the title character? Buratto is a conservatively minded Tosca, who stays clear of antics and big theatrical gestures. Her voice is pastose and warm, with a pliant upper extension that does not turn brittle. Her high C, for instance, is astoundingly resonant, though the vibrato widens under the strain of “quella lama.”

In the lower register, her instrument is equipped with dramatic heft that lends the iconic “Avanti a lui tremava tutta Roma” a grounded—if not funerary—quality. Overall, hers is a Tosca sculpted with care. It is technically assured, beautifully modulated, and immune to excess. Yet for all its polish, the portrayal lacks the frisson of a more passionate temperament. Buratto delivers with poise rather than with edge.

Therein lies the central issue: a fundamental inconsistency about what “Tosca” is—or ought to be. For Harding, it is an orchestral canvas, rich in color and atmosphere. The prelude to Act three, for instance, provides a carefully paced vignette, executed to perfection by the Santa Cecilia orchestra. It breathes a matutinal calm unsurpassed in recent memory.

Yet for Tézier, there is opportunity for jagged gestures that are abrasive to the spell of his innately honeyed tone. Buratto and Tetelman, meanwhile, appear to be somewhere in between—careful and poised, yet at times adrift in a recording that has not fully decided on its aesthetic coordinates. The result is a “Tosca” of isolated virtues, scattered brilliance, but ultimately one lacking in a unified vision.