This is the second 
                of Philips’ re-issue boxes of their 
                Haydn opera series. As with the first 
                volume notes are concise and apposite 
                though minimal with plot synopses but 
                no libretti. Many of the singers are 
                common to both boxes and as before they 
                are consistently fine, as is the often 
                under appreciated Orchestre de Chambere 
                de Lausanne – so a word of retrospective 
                kudos for the band at the outset. These 
                ten CDs contain four operas and some 
                of the arias Haydn wrote in other contexts, 
                the three Arie e Terzetto and the Eight 
                Arias – where he produced his own music 
                for other composers’ works staged at 
                Esterháza. 
              
 
              
L’incontro improviso 
                (1775) is an abduction aria along 
                Seraglio lines. It’s light-hearted 
                and cast in essentially brief aria form 
                with the greatest emotional power reserved 
                for the soprano duet in Act I and there 
                are plenty of buffo opportunities for 
                the men (relished with enthusiasm here). 
                This is a recording where Dorati’s handling 
                of the numerous secco recitatives proves 
                less than agile – it was a feature of 
                the opera series as a whole though not 
                as pronounced in some as it is, say, 
                here. Nevertheless there is a huge amount 
                to enjoy. After the Overture, brimful 
                of portent and Turkish colour, and the 
                opening arias we come across a nonsense 
                patter duet between Osmin and Calandro, 
                Domenico Trimarchi and Benjamin Luxon 
                respectively, the high spirits of which 
                are infectious (and only slightly dampened 
                by the slowness of the succeeding recitative). 
                The florid, angular and exceptionally 
                difficult Act I aria Quanto affetto 
                mi sorprende is superbly taken by 
                soprano Linda Zoghby, one of the great 
                adornments of these recordings - she 
                has a fine coloratura and a mezzo heft 
                to her chest voice. That soprano trio, 
                so anticipatory of Così fan 
                tutte, is blemish free and a moment 
                of exquisite poise amidst the buffo 
                maelstrom that surrounds it. To analyse 
                Dorati’s way with those controversial 
                secco recitatives listen to Ali’s Indarmo 
                m’affanno di veder Osmin. This 
                is a particularly dramatic example and 
                begins well but tends to lose impetus 
                and dramatic shape as it develops; a 
                pity. But Ali, the estimable tenor Claes 
                H Ahnsjö demonstrates in the following 
                aria just why he is so prized as a Haydn 
                tenor – elegance, fluidity, flexibility 
                across the range – and power. The highlights 
                of the Second Act are many but even 
                amongst the many there is the buffo 
                recitative Dico e ridico, Dorati’s 
                perfect tempo for Balkis’s aria Ad 
                acquistar gia volo and Osmin’s 
                remarkable Senti, al buio in 
                which expectation, drama and sheer zaniness 
                all co-exist quite happily – and what 
                a big and commanding voice Trimarchi 
                has and how well he deploys it. Zoghby’s 
                Act III S’egli e vero, a cavatina 
                of captivating beauty, is probably the 
                high point of the amusing, witty and 
                sufficiently sensitive last Act. 
              
 
              
L’infedeltà 
                delusa (1773) is a tightly and compactly 
                constructed opera, the last of Dorati/Esterháza 
                operas that these forces recorded. The 
                overture is witty and rather charming, 
                the theme rustic, the performances once 
                more impressive. Bravo to Barbara Hendricks 
                in Sandrina’s Act I Che imbroglio 
                – superbly sung. Vespina is Edith Mathis 
                and she is in youthful and fresh voice 
                with her Act I highlight Come piglia 
                si bene la mira. The finale 
                of Act I is a quintet of surpassing 
                beauty and carries with it pre-echoes 
                of Così with a Despina-Susanna 
                like slap. Indeed Vespina’s Act II aria, 
                a meditation and lament on age is depicted 
                in the full glory of Enlightenment wisdom 
                whilst Hendricks sweeps authoritatively 
                and powerfully through her arias. The 
                finale, a joyous quintet, is augmented 
                orchestrally by springy trumpets and 
                a true sense of culmination and resolution. 
              
 
              
L’isola disabitata 
                is even more compact than L’infedeltà 
                delusa and dates from six years 
                later. Dorati uses the Robbins Landon 
                edition. The opening Sinfonia is stern 
                and unyielding and sets the tone for 
                a work that adheres quite closely to 
                the Sturm und Drang period of Haydn’s 
                compositional life. After the Sinfonia 
                he withholds the first aria for a daringly 
                long time, preferring to preface it 
                with two long secco recitatives and 
                this faithfully reflects the balance 
                throughout between aria and recitative. 
                Linda Zoghby, as Sylvia, proves once 
                more the standout soprano; her Act II 
                aria Come il vapor s’ascende 
                is a florid one, especially in the context 
                of this essentially tough work, but 
                she surmounts all obstacles, expressive 
                and technical, with astonishing ease. 
                Gernando is the ever-excellent Luigi 
                Alva who has a fine turn in the witty 
                Giacche il pietosa amico with 
                its accompanying solo violin and the 
                final quartet resolves matters nicely; 
                bold and protracted at over ten minutes 
                it centres the emotional heart of the 
                work definably and acts, in retrospect, 
                as the inevitable point to which the 
                opera was inexorably moving. The preponderance 
                of recitatives (too slow again, alas) 
                will always make this a problematic 
                work – but it has moving depth for those 
                who know where to seek it out. 
              
 
              
Il mondo della luna 
                is a well-known comedy, splendidly 
                treated by Haydn, and one in which a 
                strong cast prove equally impressive. 
                Recitative and instrumental interludes 
                feature strongly. Domenico Trimarchi 
                sounds almost Leporello like in his 
                blustering La ragazza col vecchione 
                and Luigi Alva returns to the Haydnesque 
                fray as Ecclitico, the fake astrologer, 
                spinning his wares with insouciant and 
                soothing charm (all false of course) 
                in the (nevertheless) delightful Act 
                I aria Un poco di denaro. Arleen 
                Auger is impeccable and enormously characterful 
                as Flaminia (sample Act I’s Ragion 
                nell’alma siede) The scheming of 
                Cecco, taken by the honeyed tenor of 
                Anthony Rolfe Johnson is well conveyed 
                through thought-process registral leaps 
                and a conversational manner and Edith 
                Mathis certainly takes her place in 
                the sun in Act II with her powerfully 
                sensitive singing of Quanta gente 
                che sospira. The smaller interpolations 
                into other works are gallantly done 
                and similarly successful. 
              
 
              
Both box sets are notable 
                acquisitions for the shelf. The 
                performances still sound fresh and convincing 
                in most important areas and will repay 
                close scrutiny. 
              
 
              
Jonathan Woolf