Hitting a Bull’s-Eye With Peak-Period Mozart

When conductor Roger Norrington knocked us for a variety of loops six years ago with his “historically informed” EMI set of the nine Beethoven symphonies, on period instruments, with its radically rethought tempos and balances, the feeling was that a massive revolt against anachronistic Romantic tradition had taken place.

That stunned first reaction was soon replaced by the humbler notion that a promising start toward a permanent change in interpretive attitude had been made, that others would come along to refine Norrington’s cheekily intelligent notions. And that has come to pass.

No comparable sensation was created by Norrington’s subsequent recorded foray into period opera with Mozart’s “Die Zauberflote.” Not because his ideas were alien, but because there seemed to be so few of them, along with a certain lack of energy, to say nothing of a paucity of first-rate vocalism.

With his recently released “Don Giovanni” (EMI 54859, 3 CDs), however, Norrington comes as close to a bull’s-eye as we’ve yet had with period Mozart opera. This is a powerful, convincing performance, both as scholarship and as communicative drama.

Norrington and EMI score major points for giving us both versions of the opera: the original, first heard in Prague in October, 1787, the second being the Vienna revision of some months later, to which were added, most significantly, Elvira’s “Mi tradi “ and Ottavio’s “Dalla sua pace.”

You can program your CD player for either version, or listen to both, with material common to Prague and Vienna coming first, followed by Prague and Vienna on separate tracks.

Speed is, of course, one of the obvious differences between this “Don Giovanni” and the others. Here, as we assume was the custom in Mozart’s time, tempos are not only fast, but there are far fewer tempo fluctuations within a number, whether aria or recitative, than we are accustomed to hearing. Yet, where it makes sense to be slower than is customary, such as in the Don’s “Champagne” aria, whose text and music can become gabble at the usual hectic speed, the comfort of the singer and the sense of the text are paramount.

The title role is handled with thrilling panache by Andreas Schmidt, his Don aristocratically charming, seductive, threatening by turns. He is perfectly complemented by the darker-voiced, peasant Leporello of Gregory Yurisich.

The women comprise a strong trio, with Lynne Dawson a touching Elvira, Amanda Halgrimson an appropriately fiery Donna Anna, her characterization refreshingly free of harridan histrionics, while Nancy Argenta is a strong-willed Zerlina, immune to soubrette cutesiness.

John Mark Ainsley’s tenorino is more pallid than necessary for Ottavio’s dramatic platitudes and a shade underpowered for his musical marvels. But he has the breath for the longest-spun phrases of both his arias.

The orchestra, the London Classical Players, creates a splendidly pungent, penetrating sound in the tuttis, while the instrumental solos are exceptionally sweet and clear. And, not least important, the singers’ execution of appoggiaturas is strictly enforced by the conductor, who clearly views them not as historical curiosities, but as vital expressive enhancements.

Also among the recent releases is a live-performance recording (Budapest, 1992) of Mozart’s “Cosi fan Tutte.” Sigiswald Kuijken directs his snazzy period ensemble, La Petite Bande, and a group of talented, enthusiastic young singers, not one of whose names I had previously encountered and for whom no biographies are provided (Accent 9296/98, 3 CDs).

Kuijken, too, leads his opera at a bracing clip, never with speed for its own sake or contrary to the capabilities of his singers.

The Mozart-Da Ponte wit comes through, and there’s some distinguished singing and characterization, above all from the Fiordiligi, soprano Soile Isokoski. Appoggiaturas are in plentiful supply here, too, but, being a live performance, a singer occasionally forgets.

As a whole, this is a far from contemptible “Cosi,” but hardly an improvement on the competing period production on the Oiseau-Lyre label conducted by Arnold Ostman: a stronger overall showing than the “Don Giovanni” from the same source.