Album Review: Gabriela Cegolea – A Timeless Opera Journey
Released in 1985 under the Italian label C.G.R., Gabriela Cegolea is an album that feels like a love letter to classical opera. Led by soprano Gabriela Cegolea herself, this record dives deep into some of opera’s most iconic moments, with a performance style that’s both graceful and heartfelt. Backed by the Orchestra Filarmonica di Ploiesti and conducted by Carol Litvin, the album offers listeners a chance to revisit beloved arias with fresh ears. And let’s not forget Cornelia Andreescu’s engineering work—crisp and immersive, it gives the whole thing a polished yet intimate vibe.
The album features tracks from heavyweights like Verdi, Puccini, and Wagner, but two performances stand out for me: Manon Lescaut's “In Quelle Trine Morbide” and La Wally's “Ebben, N’andrò Lontana.”
“In Quelle Trine Morbide” hits differently here. Cegolea’s voice carries this delicate mix of yearning and restraint, almost as if she’s whispering secrets directly into your soul. It’s hauntingly beautiful, and you can tell she’s poured every ounce of emotion into each note. You don’t just hear her sing—you feel it. The orchestra swells behind her, never overpowering but always present, creating this lush backdrop that makes the aria unforgettable.
Then there’s “Ebben, N’andrò Lontana,” which honestly gave me goosebumps. If you’ve ever felt torn between staying put or running away to find yourself, this one will wreck you (in the best way). Cegolea nails the dramatic tension, her voice soaring at just the right moments. There’s something raw about how she delivers those high notes—they’re not perfect in a technical sense, but they’re real, full of grit and humanity. It’s the kind of track that lingers long after the final chord fades.
What strikes me most about this album is its authenticity. Sure, it’s not flawless. Some transitions feel a bit rushed, and a few recordings could’ve used another take. But these imperfections make it relatable, like flipping through old photographs where the edges are slightly worn. This isn’t some sterile studio creation—it’s alive, breathing, and unapologetically human.
And hey, fun fact: Attilio Del Comune’s photography adds another layer of charm to the package. The cover art has this vintage, almost cinematic quality that matches the mood of the music perfectly. It’s like holding a piece of history in your hands.
Reflecting on Gabriela Cegolea, I’m reminded of how powerful simplicity can be. In today’s world of overproduced soundscapes and auto-tuned vocals, this album feels refreshingly honest. Listening to it is like stepping into another era—an escape from the noise and chaos of modern life. Who would’ve thought a 1985 Italian opera album could feel so relevant today? Maybe we all need a little more “Ebben, N’andrò Lontana” in our lives.
