Armida was the last opera that Haydn composed
for Esterháza and it was his first full-scale serious contender
in the genre. Both orchestrally and vocally it is extremely impressive,
and Nikolaus Harnoncourt’s Vienna recording was widely praised
when it first appeared back in 2001. It now reappears in a most welcome
form as a super-budget release from
Das Alte Werk.
When this set was first released Harnoncourt’s image shared the
front cover with Bartoli’s, leaving the potential buyer in no
doubt as to the main attraction. She remains the finest thing about
this set, and Armida brings out the best in her as a performer. Her
tone is ravishingly beautiful when it needs to be - you need go no further
than her first aria, a gorgeous prayer for Rinaldo, to find evidence
of that - but when she is required to turn on the vocal fireworks, as
for Armida’s great aria of fury in Act 2, she does so with thrilling
precision and passion. She is at her finest in the final act when Armida’s
power is on the wane, heartbreaking in the great aria
Ah, non ferir,
then spitting fury as she goes off to exact her revenge.
Patricia Petibon gives Bartoli a real run for her money as the second
lady. The voice is of a very different quality to Bartoli’s -
sweeter and more innocent, less knowing - but it is every bit as delicious,
from the gently winsome quality of her first aria to the intentionally
strident and very impressive hysterics of her aria at the beginning
of Act 2. She also makes a most beguiling nymph in the third act.
The men, as a whole, are less impressive. Prégardien, most damagingly,
is not quite himself, and not the singer of such grace and beauty that
we know today. He sounds uncomfortable, and even a touch raw in his
opening aria, and throughout the opera his voice sounds occluded and
even a touch nasal rather than its usual, open, confident self. Even
his great final aria,
Dei pietosi, sounds bit off kilter.
When he and Bartoli come together, however, things improve enormously,
and their Act 1 duet, when he tries to convince her of his faithfulness,
is a real treat, both beautiful in its opening section and then exhilarating
in its coloratura. Markus Schäfer gives a very attractive turn
as Clotarco and Scot Weir’s Ubaldo is fine. Oliver Widmer’s
Idreno is not pleasant, though, sounding disagreeably unfocused in his
opening aria with little improvement later.
I’m not normally a fan of Harnoncourt in music of this period
- I find his Mozart infuriating - and generally I find Concentus Musicus
Wien to be so abrasive as to be devoid of pleasure in much of their
playing. However, I actually found their style to be pretty effective
here. It is a martial opera, after all, and the harsh edge on the brass,
as well as in some of the other orchestral
tuttis, helps to evoke
the atmosphere of war. The string playing doesn’t always sound
thin and pinched, either, and they are the finest thing about the scene
in Act 2 where Rinaldo’s indecision is invested with the intensity
of a mad scene.
Harnoncourt does occasionally pull the tempo around a bit, as though
he can’t quite help himself, but he still shapes the work with
conviction, and it’s worth remembering that this was a rather
neglected opera when this performance took place, so he probably felt
the need to inject a certain something into his interpretation so as
to make contemporary audiences sit up and take notice that little bit
more. I can turn a blind eye to most of it if it means being reacquainted
with Haydn’s music in such a successful way. The corking Trio
that ends the second act is completely thrilling, bringing out the finest
dramatic instincts of the singers, orchestra and conductor.
Both CDs are ingeniously packaged in a single case and the booklet contains
an interesting essay by David Wyn Jones. Mercifully, texts and translations
are provded online (
here).
At a price like this there is no need to hesitate.
Simon Thompson
