Listeners who are sticklers for fine sound quality may want to pass on this live 1965 recording of La Traviata, but it could be of strong interest to those who can tune out poor recording quality, variable acoustics, and lots of really loud audience noise. (This is an exceedingly mirthful audience, and/or this must have been quite a very interesting production; besides explosive guffawing at understandable points, such as the dance sequences, there is some mystifying chuckling at moments where the libretto offers no hints of humor.) The Prelude to Act I seems to be taking place during a violent thunderstorm, and while the sound does improve after that, it is generally shrill throughout, and the movement of the singers sometimes makes them sound distant. If approached with a certain mindset, these issues can become secondary to the musically and dramatically thrilling performance. Giuseppe Patanè leads the Chorus and Orchestra of Teatro Comunale di Modena in an old-fashioned, hot-blooded account of the opera. Patanè allows the singers more latitude in making the most of their big moments than is usually considered to be in good taste by more modern standards, but it is undeniably effective. His reading is notable for its impetuosity and sense of abandon; this version is about 10 minutes faster than the average performance of the opera. It feels very youthful, too. At the end of Act I, Violetta and Alfredo sound not like they're just dreamily contemplating each other, but like sexually charged young people who are intensely excited about the prospects and pleasures that lie before them. When this recording was made, Luciano Pavarotti had made some waves internationally, but he had not yet broken onto the operatic scene as a major superstar. He sounds young and exceptionally fresh, with all the vocal resources for which he would become legendary already in place. As was often the case in his early recordings, his singing and interpretation are surprisingly direct and self-effacing, with none of the grandiosity that characterized some of his later work; this is an entirely engaging and convincing performance. Mirella Freni was already an international star, and this recording was made early in her career. Her dazzling sound and technique coupled with the youthful bloom of her singing and the innocence of her vocal acting make her Violetta especially vulnerable and touching. Attilio d'Orazio made few recordings and is unfamiliar to many modern audiences, but he sings with warmth and intensity, and his Germont is by no means overshadowed by these vocal superpowers.