On this day in 1975 soprano Magda Olivero made her historical, belated Metropolitan Opera debut as Tosca. 

Harold C. Schonberg in The New York Times:

One would have thought that a combination of Tebaldi and Callas was making her debut. Instead there was a dignified artist of uncertain age who knew how to husband what little voice she had left, and who gave a moving demonstration of how great singers of the past used to portray Tosca. . . .

Singers of Miss Olivero’s day were taught to convey mood and expression so that the last person in the balcony could know what was going on. The bad artists went about it in silent-movie style. The good ones, like Miss Olivero, moved hands, shoulders, body in one grand, fluid line. It was history come to life last night as the soprano, despite her age, gave us a feminine, fiery, utterly convincing Tosca.

Vocally things were even a little better than one had anticipated. Holding herself back, pacing herself like the experienced artist she is, Miss Olivero got off some amazingly strong high notes. There are, naturally, all kinds of holes in the voice, and there also were occasional pitch troubles. Miss Olivero must necessarily represent the art of singing rather than singing itself.

Her big show-stopper, “Vissi d’arte”? Well, Ingvar Wixell, the Scarpia, forced her to the couch and pushed her shoulders flat against it. She started the aria in that position, flat on her back and mighty uncomfortable it looked. She finished the aria sitting up.

So it was a gallant Tosca that Miss Olivero gave us, and nobody would be so cruel as to apply to it the highest critical standards. It was a nice gesture on the Metropolitan Opera’s part—who says it has no heart?— and it was a sentimental evening that the buffs will describe to children and grandchildren…

Also happy birthday to parterre scribe Patrick Clement James.