Document

  1992
    January 1992
        Opera and music theatre
                Mozart Ascanio in Alba. Il Sogno di Scipione.

Mozart ASCANIO IN ALBA. Agnes Baltsa (mez) Ascanio; Edith Mathis (sop) Silvia; Peter Schreier (ten) Aceste; Lilian Sukis (sop) Venere; Arleen Auger (sop) Fauno; Salzburg Chamber Choir and Mozarteum Orchestra / Leopold Hager (hpd).

Philips Mozart Edition (Mid price) (CD) 422 530-2PME3 (three discs, nas: 164 minutes: AAD). Notes, text and translation included. From DG 2740 181 (8/81).

Mozart IL SOGNO DI SCIPIONE. Peter Schreier (ten) Scipione; Lucia Popp (sop) Costanza; Edita Gruberova (sop) Fortuna; Claes H. Ahnsjo (ten) Publio; Thomas Moser (ten) Emilio; Edith Mathis (sop) Licenza; Salzburg Chamber Choir and Mozarteum Orchestra / Leopold Hager (hpd).

Philips Mozart Edition (Mid price) (CD) 422 531-2PME2 (two discs, nas: 112 minutes: ADD). Notes, text and translation included. From DG 2740 218 (3/80).

Mozart must have cursed Mitridate. Thanks to its success, he was landed with two more commissions for Milan, one of which, Ascanio in Alba, is revealed in all its circumstantial contrivance as yet another instalment in Philips Complete Mozart Edition. This must have been a particularly tedious chore: the Archduke Ferdinand was to wed and Mozart was hired to cast a musical veil over the political manoeuvring behind the marriage, and to gild the bride with more beauty than could, by all accounts, be properly attributed to her.

So, Venus brings together Ascanio and Silvio in a courtly pastoral, but has to keep them apart long enough to facilitate the creation of a festa teatrale substantial enough for a full-blown allegorical intermezzo. If the lovers are not hiding from each other, spying on their respective virtues, then they are becoming sidetracked by the miraculous building of a new city; if they are not flattering each other or the gods in endless secco recitative, then they are awaiting destiny—and the waiting is long. Meanwhile a proliferation of nymphs and shepherds are on hand to sing and dance the hours away.

Given the number of under-motivated choruses (most of the ballet music is cut here) it is small wonder that the over-recessed Salzburg Chamber Choir sounds weary and disbelieving. But this, and the trim, dutiful playing of the Mozarteum Orchestra under Leopold Hager certainly tries the patience of the listener every bit as much as that of the lovers. Venus's "Ancor per poco soffri" ("You'll have to endure a little longer") seems to be the motto of the day.

But this is Mozart; and, sure enough, just as one is about to sneak off for another coffee, the ear is arrested by the sudden vibrancy of an unexpected accompanied recitative, illuminating a moment's silence, or by an aria, from the 15-year-old pen, which suddenly flowers from the tight buds of its surrounding growth. Ascanio, for instance, when left alone to question his vow of silence, has his words propelled by a sonorous choir of divided violas, and is granted a wonderful area of slow-moving harmonies and metrical cross-currents with which to sympathize with Silvia's torments.

Agnes Baltsa catches nicely the tremulous ardour and inner turmoil within the lower register of Ascanio's writing, but the brilliance and power of the legendary Florentine male soprano for whom the part was written tends to elude her. Silvia, radiantly sung by Edith Mathis, purls out her "Infelici affetti miei" to an accompaniment which all but pre-echoes Cosi's "Soave sia il vento". The single terzetto here, though, shows Mozart far from prepared for ensemble writing.

Even Fauno (Arleen Auger as a personable, flighty shepherd) has a little blockbuster all his/her own in "Dal tuo gentil sembiante" which nevertheless tests Auger to the limits. Peter Schreier is the benevolent guardian/prophet/priest Aceste, though a younger, more agile and Italianate tenor might have been a better choice. In taking over recording and text from DG, Philips might, incidentally, have seen their way to securing a new English translation: even Silvia's coy, bewildered innocence deserves better than "Whither doth it compel thee this imprudent foot?".

Leopold Mozart thought of Il sogno di Scipione as a mere preparation for the Ascanio commission, but everyone, including his son, seems committed to the task in hand in this azione teatrale. It may be somewhat less than action-packed and hardly theatrical, but this excuse for an hour or so of Metastasian philosophical and metaphysical speculation in the mouths of Scipio and his two temptresses Fortuna and Costanza, certainly drew longer-breathed, more sharply characterized writing from Mozart's pen than Parini's courtly pastoral.

Peter Schreier as the dreamer on trial fleshes out Mozart's highly sentient use of vocal register to express his gradual awakening into consciousness, as much as his ardent, if less than agile, rejection of Fortuna. Fortuna puts forward her claim in gleaming, Vitellia-esque arias, robustly trilled and ornamented by Edita Gruberova. Lucia Popp, as her rival, sings with less high glaze but radiantly enough and with apt tenacity. In the celestial and ancestral corridors of power, Publio (Claes H. Ahnsjo) puts forward a compelling claim for immortality in his ringing, horn-accompanied aria, while Thomas Moser's incisive and authoritative Emilio brings out the paternal benevolence of Mozart's little two-note phrases. Edith Mathis, though, has the last and the best word. She is granted both the original, concise Licenza ending, and the later, wonderfully expansive aria in the final Homage Cantata for the enthronement of Archbishop Colloredo.

HF



		Mozart must have cursed Mitridate. Thanks to its success, he was landed with two more commissions for Milan, one of which, Ascanio in Alba, is revealed in all its circumstantial contrivance as yet another instalment in Philips Complete Mozart Edition. This must have been a particularly tedious chore: the Archduke Ferdinand was to wed and Mozart was hired to cast a musical veil over the political manoeuvring behind the marriage, and to gild the bride with more beauty than could, by all accounts, be properly attributed to her.



		So, Venus brings together Ascanio and Silvio in a courtly pastoral, but has to keep them apart long enough to facilitate the creation of a festa teatrale substantial enough for a full-blown allegorical intermezzo. If the lovers are not hiding from each other, spying on their respective virtues, then they are becoming sidetracked by the miraculous building of a new city; if they are not flattering each other or the gods in endless secco recitative, then they are awaiting destiny—and the waiting is long. Meanwhile a proliferation of nymphs and shepherds are on hand to sing and dance the hours away.



		Given the number of under-motivated choruses (most of the ballet music is cut here) it is small wonder that the over-recessed Salzburg Chamber Choir sounds weary and disbelieving. But this, and the trim, dutiful playing of the Mozarteum Orchestra under Leopold Hager certainly tries the patience of the listener every bit as much as that of the lovers. Venus's "Ancor per poco soffri" ("You'll have to endure a little longer") seems to be the motto of the day.



		But this is Mozart; and, sure enough, just as one is about to sneak off for another coffee, the ear is arrested by the sudden vibrancy of an unexpected accompanied recitative, illuminating a moment's silence, or by an aria, from the 15-year-old pen, which suddenly flowers from the tight buds of its surrounding growth. Ascanio, for instance, when left alone to question his vow of silence, has his words propelled by a sonorous choir of divided violas, and is granted a wonderful area of slow-moving harmonies and metrical cross-currents with which to sympathize with Silvia's torments.



		Agnes Baltsa catches nicely the tremulous ardour and inner turmoil within the lower register of Ascanio's writing, but the brilliance and power of the legendary Florentine male soprano for whom the part was written tends to elude her. Silvia, radiantly sung by Edith Mathis, purls out her "Infelici affetti miei" to an accompaniment which all but pre-echoes Cosi's "Soave sia il vento". The single terzetto here, though, shows Mozart far from prepared for ensemble writing.



		Even Fauno (Arleen Auger as a personable, flighty shepherd) has a little blockbuster all his/her own in "Dal tuo gentil sembiante" which nevertheless tests Auger to the limits. Peter Schreier is the benevolent guardian/prophet/priest Aceste, though a younger, more agile and Italianate tenor might have been a better choice. In taking over recording and text from DG, Philips might, incidentally, have seen their way to securing a new English translation: even Silvia's coy, bewildered innocence deserves better than "Whither doth it compel thee this imprudent foot?".



		Leopold Mozart thought of Il sogno di Scipione as a mere preparation for the Ascanio commission, but everyone, including his son, seems committed to the task in hand in this azione teatrale. It may be somewhat less than action-packed and hardly theatrical, but this excuse for an hour or so of Metastasian philosophical and metaphysical speculation in the mouths of Scipio and his two temptresses Fortuna and Costanza, certainly drew longer-breathed, more sharply characterized writing from Mozart's pen than Parini's courtly pastoral.



		Peter Schreier as the dreamer on trial fleshes out Mozart's highly sentient use of vocal register to express his gradual awakening into consciousness, as much as his ardent, if less than agile, rejection of Fortuna. Fortuna puts forward her claim in gleaming, Vitellia-esque arias, robustly trilled and ornamented by Edita Gruberova. Lucia Popp, as her rival, sings with less high glaze but radiantly enough and with apt tenacity. In the celestial and ancestral corridors of power, Publio (Claes H. Ahnsjo) puts forward a compelling claim for immortality in his ringing, horn-accompanied aria, while Thomas Moser's incisive and authoritative Emilio brings out the paternal benevolence of Mozart's little two-note phrases. Edith Mathis, though, has the last and the best word. She is granted both the original, concise Licenza ending, and the later, wonderfully expansive aria in the final Homage Cantata for the enthronement of Archbishop Colloredo.