Some fifteen years ago, McCormack scholars Paul Worth and John Scarry asked me to consider issuing a complete edition of McCormack’s Odeon recordings. Their proposal interested me primarily because of my own ardent admiration of the great tenor. I felt that his entire oeuvre should be available, and his Odeon recordings had never been tackled by any reissue label. I also recognized the unique importance of this body of recordings because it traces the young tenor’s musical development from undistinguished ballad singer to his rise to celebrity and his eventual transformation into one of the consummate musical artists of the twentieth century. The more I listened to these recordings, the greater was my interest in producing this project. Yet I was daunted by my experience that McCormack Odeons so often turn up in poor condition with the rarest discs invariably being the worst. In fact, several of these had passed through my hands in such deplorable state as to be almost unlistenable. For more than a decade, I postponed the project hoping for superior copies to come my way. Two years ago, I received an email out of the blue from Jeremy Meehan, a McCormack collector in County Cork, in Ireland, who offered to launch a subscription campaign to underwrite a McCormack Odeon edition if I would resume my search for the records. His enthusiasm rekindled my interest, and my partner, Scott Kessler and I immediately accepted his generous assistance.

Plans for the project began to take shape. McCormack experts on both sides of the Atlantic offered to contribute essays, while I canvassed collectors for help locating the best possible copies of the discs. No fewer than eight important collectors and archives generously offered their help, without which we could never have undertaken the project. During the course of the audio work, more than 300 discs were lent to me, allowing me the luxury to audition and compare duplicate discs. Many of McCormack’s Odeon recordings had been available on a variety of Odeon, Fonotipia, and Columbia labels until World War I; and afterwards, some were reissued on excellent pressings by English Columbia and Regal. For the common titles, I inspected as many as eight duplicates, opting for late pressings with good surfaces. Finding usable copies of the scarce titles proved nearly impossible as I had feared. Even when duplicates were available, they were often in similarly poor condition, compelling me to assemble the best portions of each disc for the final master.

My next challenge was to determine the correct turntable speed for each selection. I should point out that in the early days of recording, the concept of standardized speed simply did not exist, and therefore, recordings of this vintage can play anywhere from 60 to 100 rpm. Determining the correct speed for standard instrumental and operatic recordings is relatively easy because the score keys are well known and the turntable speed can be adjusted to produce that key. For the song repertoire that McCormack recorded for Odeon, the published keys are not readily available, nor are they relevant because McCormack would have had his accompaniments transposed to suit his exact vocal range and comfort. Postulating correct speeds of the present recordings has not been an easy task because much of the evidence is subjective and I can only hope that my assessments are correct. Someday, there might be a scientific procedure for determining speeds, but for the present, I have used my ear and musical instincts, coupled with my knowledge of recording practices of that time. I have taken this task very seriously and I accept full responsibility for my decisions.

Listening to the Odeon recordings as an integrated group, I chose plausible speeds for each recording session by paying close attention to the timbre of McCormack’s voice, which I know well from his acoustic Victor recordings. I quickly realized that the speeds varied greatly from session to session, but it was quite obvious that one nominal speed was selected for each recording session with only minor variation between sides. I made note of the speed for each selection where the voice sounded most natural to my ear, and the resultant key signature.

For the first two sessions covering matrices Lx 1565 through 1582, I chose 71.5 rpm, where McCormack’s voice sounds bright, young, and still insecure, but not nasal. I worried about this speed, however, because it places these traditional songs in unconventional keys: “A Nation Once Again” and “God Save Ireland” in D-flat; “The Boys of Wexford” in G-flat; “The Croppy Boy” and “The Dear Little Shamrock” in B; and “The Snowy Breasted Pearl” in E. Incidentally, his 1911 Victor recordings of the last two songs are sung in B-flat and F respectively. The next six selections are in standard keys of G, E-flat, and A-flat. The only exception is L 1581 “The Dear Little Shamrock,” which is a repeat of Lx 1569 and again is sung in the unusual key of B.

I decided next to play all twelve songs at 67 rpm, transposing them down a semitone. This speed places most of the songs in standard keys such as C, F, B-flat, E-flat, A-flat, and G, with only two songs in the non-standard key of G-flat. I tried to convince myself that this speed was correct, but McCormack’s voice sounds thick and throaty, not at all the voice of his 1910 Victors. I then wondered how McCormack’s voice would sound singing in these lower keys but with the orchestra tuned to a very high pitch such as A equaling 452 Hz, a quarter tone high. Increasing the speed, his voice began to take on a lighter and more familiar timbre, but it still sounded wrong to my ear. Therefore, I concluded that my first speed choice was correct. I suspect that McCormack simply asked the musicians to play in the high keys where he felt comfortable. It is completely plausible in fact that the Odeon orchestra played from handwritten parts, transcribed just for that recording, which means that they could have been written in any key that McCormack requested.

For the third and fourth sessions, I chose 80.5 rpm, with the voice sounding consistent with the earlier sessions. This speed also yields unusual keys, but again, it is apparent that played either lower or higher, McCormack’s voice is definitely not correct.

I have pitched session five at 77.5 rpm, though this speed has caused me a good deal of consternation. McCormack’s voice sounds absolutely natural at this speed, beginning with “Like Stars Above” in the key of C. But then we come to the arias from Cavalleria rusticana, Pagliacci, and Rigoletto, all of which are transposed down a semitone. Tenors have frequently transposed “O Lola” down because of its high tessitura, even Caruso, but Fernando De Lucia is the only tenor from that era to have transposed “Vesti la giubba. The transposition of “La donna è mobile” is also worrisome since his subsequent Odeon recordings are definitely sung at score pitch. Raising the entire session to 80.8 as suggested by Paul Worth in his discography, places the three arias all in score pitch, but McCormack’s voice becomes pinched and thin, with the vowels sounding unnatural. I realize that not everyone will be pleased with my choice of the lower speed but, after repeated listening, I am convinced it is the correct one. Nowadays, it is simple to alter the pitch of a digital recording, and I suggest that people who are curious should conduct their own experiments. For the remainder of the recordings, I encountered no further pitching difficulties.

Once I had established the speed for each record, I began the transfer work and final mastering. After selecting the best copies for each side, I played them with five different sizes and shapes of styli, selecting the one which yielded the most vocal presence and the least amount of surface noise. With the more problematic sides, I used several styli on different parts of the disc to achieve optimum sonic clarity. A judicious amount of digital restoration was applied individually to each track, taking care not to distort the voice with the intrusion of digital artifacts. Finally, I compared the sound level and equalization of each selection with its neighbors in an attempt to achieve continuity between tracks.

Three alternative takes are known to exist as unpublished test pressings: Take 1 of Leoncavallo’s “Mattinata,” Take 3 of “La donna è mobile,” and Take 1 of “Questa o quella.” McCormack collector, Michael Meagher, who had owned these three unique discs, loaned them to me for copying, but after his death, no trace has been found of the discs of the two Rigoletto arias. Careful comparison of Takes 3 and 4 of “La donna è mobile” reveals that they are identical. Since discographies have not noted this discrepancy, I have included transfers of both discs here. Two of the cylinders presented in this set have completely eluded me in their original form: the Sterling cylinder of “The Croppy Boy” and the Edison Bell cylinder of “Home to Athlone.” Hence, inferior transfers had to be used for these items.

McCormack’s Odeon recordings are controversial and often dismissed by collectors because some are badly sung and none represent him at his absolute zenith. However, these recordings are of great importance, as they chronicle McCormack’s astonishing transformation. The recordings from his first two sessions in 1906 are undeniably poor, both vocally and musically. Yet they provide a starting point from which we can hear this young, inexperienced tenor’s steady progress, discovering how to sing more effectively with each successive recording session. One need only compare any of the recordings from the 1906 group to those from session ten and onward to hear McCormack’s extraordinary development. How did he make this transition? One can hardly believe that it is the same artist. Is it possible that he used his Odeon records to hone his vocal and musical art? This, along with the questions of pitch, style, and interpretation in the Odeon recordings must, for now, remain conjectural. Doubtless, these imponderables will continue to instigate debate whenever singers of the Golden Age are discussed. Despite all of the flaws in these Odeon recordings, we owe a debt of gratitude to those pioneers in the art of sound recording who captured, as for no other singer, the formative efforts of one who later achieved such distinction.