Document

  1994
    February 1994
        Opera and music theatre
                Mozart Cosi fan tutte.

Mozart Cosi fan tutte. Amanda Roocroft (sop) Fiordiligi; Rosa Mannion (sop) Dorabella; Eirian James (mez) Despina; Rainer Trost (ten) Ferrando; Rodney Gilfry (bar) Guglielmo; Carlos Feller (bass) Don Alfonso; Monteverdi Choir; English Baroque Soloists / John Eliot Gardiner.

Archiv Produktion (Full price) (CD) 437 829-2AH3 (three discs: 194 minutes: DDD). Recorded at a performance in the Teatro Comunale, Ferrara during June, 1992.

Mozart Cosi fan tutte. Cast as above with Claudio Nicolai (bar) Don Alfonso. Stage Director: John Eliot Gardiner. Video Director: Peter Mumford.

Archiv Produktion (Full price) (VHS) 072 436-3AH2; (LaserDisc) 072 436-1AH2 (two tapes: 193 minutes: PAL). Filmed during performances at the Chatelet, Paris during August 1992.

Mozart Cosi fan tutte. Soile Isokoski (sop) Fiordiligi; Monica Groop (mez) Dorabella; Nancy Argenta (sop) Despina; Markus Schafer (ten) Ferrando; Per Vollestad (bar) Guglielmo; Huub Claessens (bass) Don Alfonso; La Petite Bande and Chorus / Sigiswald Kuijken.

Accent (Full price) (CD) ACC9296/8D (three discs: 181 minutes: DDD). Notes, text and translation included. Recorded in association with Fondation France Telecom at a performance in the Franz Liszt Conservatory, Budapest on October 7th, 1992.

Of the numerous recordings of Cosi fan tutte in the catalogue, many of them excellent, I don't think there is any that has moved me as intensely at the work's ultimate climax, the Act 2 finale, as this new one of John Eliot Gardiner's. Nowadays we recognize, of course, that Cosi is not the frivolous frolic at the expense of womankind that it was long supposed to be, but something much more serious and (in my view at least) deeply sympathetic to women. Gardiner takes much of the finale at a rather steady pace, allowing plenty of time in the canon-toast for a gorgeous sensuous interplay of these lovely young voices, then carefully pacing the E major music that follows, pointing up the alarmed G minor music after the march is heard and sustaining the tension artfully at a high level during the denouement scene: so that, when their vow of undying love and loyalty, "Idol mio, se questo e vero", is finally reached, it carries great pathos and emotional weight, and the sense too that all are chastened by the experience is evident in the ensemble that ensues.

So this is certainly a Cosi with a heart, and a heart in the right place. It comes from a stage performance given in the Teatro Comunale at Ferrara—the city from which, of course, the sisters in the story hail—in 1992, and it is also available in video (of which more in a moment). It suffers from the usual disadvantages and advantages of live performance: on the one hand applause, seemingly a little arbitrarily apportioned, after several of the arias and at the ends of the acts, laughter at certain points (more often at the stage action than the text) and some ambient noise (including a lot of shouting after the overture, as the singers enter through the auditorium); on the other, some sense that the singers are actually going through the opera's emotional world, not merely feigning it in numerous studio takes. To my taste, the disadvantages are the greater, especially when laughter intervenes inaptly—as for example between sections of "Come scoglio", where Dorabella (witness the video) is flirting wildly (in spite of Gardiner's very proper animadversions in his perceptive note about the differentiation between the sisters coming too early in most productions today). The vitality and the communicativeness of the recitative is, I am sure, one result of recording a live performance; it is flexible, conversational and lively, as it ought to be, and the Italian pronunciation is remarkably good especially considering that there isn't a single Italian in the cast.

Live performance and video recording do of course place certain constraints on the casting, but the results, vocally speaking, of choosing a plausibly young and handsome cast are here anything but negative. Amanda Roocroft makes a capable Fiordiligi, with a big, spacious "Come scoglio", firm in attack if not specially refined in detail, and showing real depth of feeling in what is a very beautiful account of "Per pieta"; her tone is bright and forward, occasionally apt to harden. But I did miss something of the urgency and passion that belong to her capitulation duet with Ferrando, "Fra gli amplessi"; Gardiner's steady tempo here, no doubt designed to give due weight to the work's emotional climax, seems to me self-defeating, as the piece doesn't quite catch fire. Rainer Trost is a most elegant singer, with a finely focused tenor sound that, with a little more maturity and warmth, will be something quite out of the ordinary. He doesn't quite pass the stringent test, technical and poetic, posed by "Un' aura amorosa", but sings with charming grace in "Ah lo veggio" (omitted in the video, incidentally) and lyrically in "Tradito! schernito!".

Rosa Mannion, as Dorabella, acts effectively with her voice in "Smanie implacabili" and is full of life in her Act 2 aria. The Guglielmo, Rodney Gilfry, is quite outstanding for his light, warm and flexible baritone, gently seductive in Act 1, showing real brilliance and precision of articulation in "Donne mie". Eirian James's Despina is another delight, spirited, sexy and rich-toned, and full of charm without any of the silliness some Despinas show. It is curious that most of her music as the notary is apparently assigned to a tenor, contrary to what is in the score (or is she faking it down there herself?); Carlos Feller's singing seems initially a shade chubby and gruff-toned—in the first production the Alfonso's voice was higher in pitch than the Guglielmo's—but he is adept in timing, urbane in style and an accomplished vocal actor.

In many ways, the period instruments notwithstanding, this is a fairly traditional performance. There are appoggiaturas, but applied very inconsistently (sometimes you hear the same phrase from two singers, one with and one without). Gardiner often uses quite generous rubato to highlight the shape of a phrase, for example in the girls' first duet, at the expense of pulse; and he is alert, as always, to how the orchestral writing can underline the sense—listen to the sensual phrasing in "Il core vi dono" or the delicate timing in "Non siate ritrosi". He curiously highlights the sustained viola parts in "Di scrivermi ogni giorno" and "Soave sia il vento"; it's good to hear it, but it shouldn't be a viola concerto. Perhaps this is misguided engineering. Gardiner deliberately keeps Act 1, where the characters are as it were models rather than their true selves (to be liberated by the disguises), rather cool; but I do miss some of the sensuous warmth that belongs to the quintets in the farewell scene, and find some of the finale too leisured in pace. In short, it does not seem to be quite on the exalted level of Gardiner's recordings of the two serious operas of Mozart's.

The Kuijken recording is extremely enjoyable. It is lighter in mood than Gardiner's. Nearly all the tempos are quicker and there is more sense of spontaneity. This too is a live performance, but not on the stage, and applause intervenes only at the ends of the acts, though there are occasional coughs and some subdued laughter. There is one rather interesting difference between these two performances. Mozart very rarely wrote dynamic or accentuation marks into his singers' parts; the singers were expected to learn their music from a repetiteur (or Mozart himself) and take their cues from what they heard in performance. Gardiner has his singers follow, meticulously, the orchestral dynamics; Kuijken leaves them, more or less, to sing with what they hear. This is a symptomatic difference: one performance is highly wrought, the other freer and more natural.

The sisters in the Kuijken version are excellently done by two artists I have not come across before. Soile Isokoski, even in voice and with an attractive ring, does a fine "Come scoglio", in the grand manner but not at all heavily, and with tremendous momentum at the end, and "Per pieta" is beautifully done if not intensely moving. Monica Groop characterizes her two arias very tellingly, again a pleasing and even voice intelligently and musically used. The two duets for the sisters are both very appealing, with a happy sense in "Prendero quel brunettino" that they might be getting up to a little mischief. I have reservations about Nancy Argenta, who sometimes tends to use a shrill, pinched tone to portray Despina instead of relying on her natural vivacity—which does however come through in "Una donna di quindici anni" although the tempo here is curiously leisured (the only number, I think, distinctly slower than Gardiner). There is an accomplished "Un' aura amorosa" from Markus Schafer but neither he nor Per Vollestad, a good forthright singer, is specially compelling; the Alfonso here, Huub Claessens, more baritone than bass, is particularly successful in the recitative, which here again is done with much care for its meaning.

This version, then, is a pleasing and lively Cosi. Occasionally the orchestral playing has slightly rough, or cloudy, moments; and in "Sento, o dio" there is a puzzling change of tempo (it begins very slowly, then speeds up). Appoggiaturas are mostly in place, in arias and ensembles as well as recitative, though here too not quite consistently—but the effect of the music's reflecting the natural accent of the words is satisfying. It would be a good recording with which to get to know the opera.

Choice between this and the Gardiner seems rather beside the point, for the Gardiner, in spite of a number of drawbacks, is certainly a connoisseur's performance, subtle and sophisticated, and communicating important things about the opera. The video (made at the Chatelet Theatre in Paris), once past an unimaginatively filmed overture, shows the production, Gardiner's own, to be attractively set in eighteenth-century style coastal views, domestic settings and costumes, and in its staging in some ways a prey to fashionable notions of involving the audience (cast marching through the house, sexuality a lot more explicit than it would have been in Mozart's day), but responsive to the music and what it is saying in a way that is welcome in these days when apparently tone-deaf producers are permitted to impose their own ideas in stark contradiction of the music.

SS



		Of the numerous recordings of Cosi fan tutte in the catalogue, many of them excellent, I don't think there is any that has moved me as intensely at the work's ultimate climax, the Act 2 finale, as this new one of John Eliot Gardiner's. Nowadays we recognize, of course, that Cosi is not the frivolous frolic at the expense of womankind that it was long supposed to be, but something much more serious and (in my view at least) deeply sympathetic to women. Gardiner takes much of the finale at a rather steady pace, allowing plenty of time in the canon-toast for a gorgeous sensuous interplay of these lovely young voices, then carefully pacing the E major music that follows, pointing up the alarmed G minor music after the march is heard and sustaining the tension artfully at a high level during the denouement scene: so that, when their vow of undying love and loyalty, "Idol mio, se questo e vero", is finally reached, it carries great pathos and emotional weight, and the sense too that all are chastened by the experience is evident in the ensemble that ensues.



		So this is certainly a Cosi with a heart, and a heart in the right place. It comes from a stage performance given in the Teatro Comunale at Ferrara—the city from which, of course, the sisters in the story hail—in 1992, and it is also available in video (of which more in a moment). It suffers from the usual disadvantages and advantages of live performance: on the one hand applause, seemingly a little arbitrarily apportioned, after several of the arias and at the ends of the acts, laughter at certain points (more often at the stage action than the text) and some ambient noise (including a lot of shouting after the overture, as the singers enter through the auditorium); on the other, some sense that the singers are actually going through the opera's emotional world, not merely feigning it in numerous studio takes. To my taste, the disadvantages are the greater, especially when laughter intervenes inaptly—as for example between sections of "Come scoglio", where Dorabella (witness the video) is flirting wildly (in spite of Gardiner's very proper animadversions in his perceptive note about the differentiation between the sisters coming too early in most productions today). The vitality and the communicativeness of the recitative is, I am sure, one result of recording a live performance; it is flexible, conversational and lively, as it ought to be, and the Italian pronunciation is remarkably good especially considering that there isn't a single Italian in the cast.



		Live performance and video recording do of course place certain constraints on the casting, but the results, vocally speaking, of choosing a plausibly young and handsome cast are here anything but negative. Amanda Roocroft makes a capable Fiordiligi, with a big, spacious "Come scoglio", firm in attack if not specially refined in detail, and showing real depth of feeling in what is a very beautiful account of "Per pieta"; her tone is bright and forward, occasionally apt to harden. But I did miss something of the urgency and passion that belong to her capitulation duet with Ferrando, "Fra gli amplessi"; Gardiner's steady tempo here, no doubt designed to give due weight to the work's emotional climax, seems to me self-defeating, as the piece doesn't quite catch fire. Rainer Trost is a most elegant singer, with a finely focused tenor sound that, with a little more maturity and warmth, will be something quite out of the ordinary. He doesn't quite pass the stringent test, technical and poetic, posed by "Un' aura amorosa", but sings with charming grace in "Ah lo veggio" (omitted in the video, incidentally) and lyrically in "Tradito! schernito!".



		Rosa Mannion, as Dorabella, acts effectively with her voice in "Smanie implacabili" and is full of life in her Act 2 aria. The Guglielmo, Rodney Gilfry, is quite outstanding for his light, warm and flexible baritone, gently seductive in Act 1, showing real brilliance and precision of articulation in "Donne mie". Eirian James's Despina is another delight, spirited, sexy and rich-toned, and full of charm without any of the silliness some Despinas show. It is curious that most of her music as the notary is apparently assigned to a tenor, contrary to what is in the score (or is she faking it down there herself?); Carlos Feller's singing seems initially a shade chubby and gruff-toned—in the first production the Alfonso's voice was higher in pitch than the Guglielmo's—but he is adept in timing, urbane in style and an accomplished vocal actor.



		In many ways, the period instruments notwithstanding, this is a fairly traditional performance. There are appoggiaturas, but applied very inconsistently (sometimes you hear the same phrase from two singers, one with and one without). Gardiner often uses quite generous rubato to highlight the shape of a phrase, for example in the girls' first duet, at the expense of pulse; and he is alert, as always, to how the orchestral writing can underline the sense—listen to the sensual phrasing in "Il core vi dono" or the delicate timing in "Non siate ritrosi". He curiously highlights the sustained viola parts in "Di scrivermi ogni giorno" and "Soave sia il vento"; it's good to hear it, but it shouldn't be a viola concerto. Perhaps this is misguided engineering. Gardiner deliberately keeps Act 1, where the characters are as it were models rather than their true selves (to be liberated by the disguises), rather cool; but I do miss some of the sensuous warmth that belongs to the quintets in the farewell scene, and find some of the finale too leisured in pace. In short, it does not seem to be quite on the exalted level of Gardiner's recordings of the two serious operas of Mozart's.



		The Kuijken recording is extremely enjoyable. It is lighter in mood than Gardiner's. Nearly all the tempos are quicker and there is more sense of spontaneity. This too is a live performance, but not on the stage, and applause intervenes only at the ends of the acts, though there are occasional coughs and some subdued laughter. There is one rather interesting difference between these two performances. Mozart very rarely wrote dynamic or accentuation marks into his singers' parts; the singers were expected to learn their music from a repetiteur (or Mozart himself) and take their cues from what they heard in performance. Gardiner has his singers follow, meticulously, the orchestral dynamics; Kuijken leaves them, more or less, to sing with what they hear. This is a symptomatic difference: one performance is highly wrought, the other freer and more natural.



		The sisters in the Kuijken version are excellently done by two artists I have not come across before. Soile Isokoski, even in voice and with an attractive ring, does a fine "Come scoglio", in the grand manner but not at all heavily, and with tremendous momentum at the end, and "Per pieta" is beautifully done if not intensely moving. Monica Groop characterizes her two arias very tellingly, again a pleasing and even voice intelligently and musically used. The two duets for the sisters are both very appealing, with a happy sense in "Prendero quel brunettino" that they might be getting up to a little mischief. I have reservations about Nancy Argenta, who sometimes tends to use a shrill, pinched tone to portray Despina instead of relying on her natural vivacity—which does however come through in "Una donna di quindici anni" although the tempo here is curiously leisured (the only number, I think, distinctly slower than Gardiner). There is an accomplished "Un' aura amorosa" from Markus Schafer but neither he nor Per Vollestad, a good forthright singer, is specially compelling; the Alfonso here, Huub Claessens, more baritone than bass, is particularly successful in the recitative, which here again is done with much care for its meaning.



		This version, then, is a pleasing and lively Cosi. Occasionally the orchestral playing has slightly rough, or cloudy, moments; and in "Sento, o dio" there is a puzzling change of tempo (it begins very slowly, then speeds up). Appoggiaturas are mostly in place, in arias and ensembles as well as recitative, though here too not quite consistently—but the effect of the music's reflecting the natural accent of the words is satisfying. It would be a good recording with which to get to know the opera.



		Choice between this and the Gardiner seems rather beside the point, for the Gardiner, in spite of a number of drawbacks, is certainly a connoisseur's performance, subtle and sophisticated, and communicating important things about the opera. The video (made at the Chatelet Theatre in Paris), once past an unimaginatively filmed overture, shows the production, Gardiner's own, to be attractively set in eighteenth-century style coastal views, domestic settings and costumes, and in its staging in some ways a prey to fashionable notions of involving the audience (cast marching through the house, sexuality a lot more explicit than it would have been in Mozart's day), but responsive to the music and what it is saying in a way that is welcome in these days when apparently tone-deaf producers are permitted to impose their own ideas in stark contradiction of the music.