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