Records
The young master
Rodney Mines
Mozart was sixteen when he wrote Lucia Silla. It was his umpteenth opera, and his second opera seria. Although Leopold reported from Milan that it was a huge success, the hoped-for court appointment did not materialise, and Papa shepherded the composer back north of the Alps muttering that doubtless the good Lord had other plans for his boy. The good Lord, thank heavens, had.
Gottfried Kraus, the producer of the new and first complete recording (BASF 78 22472 4, £11.75), writes in the lavish accompanying booklet that "the young Mozart had, with apparent ease, produced an opera which not only equalled but surpassed anything already written in the field of eighteenth century opera seria," and, later, that it is "one of the greatest examples of Mozart's operatic genius." To all of which, rats. It may be the job of even those record producers who are not familiar with the works of Handel to sell their wares, but enough is enough. Still, the loudest laugh of all at this demonstrable nonsense will come from the shade of Mozart himself in whichever comfortable corner of the Elysian Fields he rests.
The libretto, by a military gentleman turned poet, is wordy and diffuse even by the standards of the genre. The acres of secco recitative are by and large blandly set. The massively inconsequential plot bears certain resemblances to Metastasio's La Clemenza di Tito, comparisons with which, especially in the revised version that Mozart himself later set, are not flattering. As a dramatic exercise Lucia Silla is a non-starter, but even I, who ran screaming from the theatre at the first available interval of the only live performance in this country will admit that records are a different matter. From the comfort of the armchair the undisciplined exuberance of musical invention — and exuberance that dogged the composer even up to Entfahrung and earned him that famous and wholly deserved imperial rebuke of "too many notes, my dear Mozart" — is less worrying. It does not matter so much that most arias ( the opera runs to twenty-five numbers) are far too long for their dramatic context, and that their interminable introductions in quasisonata form presuppose the entry of a piano rather than a voice.
No, with due respect to the enthusiasm of Herr Kraus, the lasting interest of this beautiful recording lies in spotting those passages where Mozart's youthful genius breaks through the confines of both the genre and his own inexperience. There is one in each act, and each in the presence of death, which always brought out the best in the composer.
Spectator January 24, 1916 The meeting of Cecilio and Giunia at the
tombs of the Roman heroes, contains a
wonderfully expressive accompanied recitative for the former and a solo for the latter (she supposes her lover to be dead) that would not be out of place in The Magic Flute. In the second act Giunia foresees Cecilio's death and decides to plead for him with the Senate: again. a magnificent recitative leading straight into the blessedly introduction-less aria Part°' m'afretto' with its gasps of terror, restless syncopation and fragmented second section. (The ensuing ;Senate scene is a thumping anti-climax.) In the third act, the pair prepare for death, Cecilio in a short Men uetto as affecting as it is unaffected, Giunia facing the worst over string triplets throbbing with pain. Mozart was nineteen when he wrote 11 Re Pastore, also newly recorded (BASF BAC 3072 ' 4, E8.97), and the advance is startling. For a start, the librettist, Metastasio, was a real writer and there is a vein of quiet humour running through this Pastorale which elicited a joyous response from the composer. The opening alone demonstrates a firmer technical grasp: the brief overture leads straight into an opening number whose threatened da capo interrupted by. the arrival of the heroine and some sprightly secco conversation about "insolent, licentious soldiery" and la dolce vita. Clouds, rain, woods and other rustic hazards in the text spur the composer to orchestral effects singularly lacking in the earlier work. In the first finale, the eponymous sheeplminder discovers that his name is hcit Amyntas but Abdolonymus, and that he is the sole heir to the throne of Sidon. His Elisa s reaction is one of joy — "my beloved is rtlY king". The way their light-hearted banter moves into accompanied recitative as the implications of this change of fortune sink In shows Mozart's now near-faultless grin ef dramatic progression. Both recordings are quite excellent. Silla may be a curate's egg, but it is cooked to perfection. It contains passages of coloratura that make the Queen of Night's music seem like a village choir outing to the vicarage tea-partY, and two outstanding stylists from the new generation, of Mozart singers, Arleen Auger and Edith Mathis, handle it with breathtaking technical bravura. Julia Varady, in the wide-ranging role of Cecilio, written for castrato, has the necessary range and vigour, but her passage work is suggested rather than accomplished. Peter Schreier (Silla) has little to do (the original tenor was an inexperienced performer), and his recitatives are as bland as his Italian is idiosyncratic. Helen Donath copes womanfully with some perilously high staccati In the later work Mathis (Amyntas) and Auger (Elise) are again outstanding. The former's account of 'L'amero', dangerously slow but beautifully played, is exquisite. Schreier, in the more interesting role of
i Alexander, shows that he is without equal n Mozart today, and Werner Krenri (obviouslY indisposed in Silla) is a spirited and not unfunny Agenore. Sone. G haze rian, an Armenian soprano with meaty tone, completes the castealsi Tamiri. Both operas are exceedinglY w played by the Salzburg Mozarteum Orchestra under Leopold Hager. 11 Re Pastore can be recommended without reservation
it is piece that deserves to be staged far more frequently. Lucia Sala is fine as long as you expect no more than a string of loosely f connected concert arias with only flashes 0. a genuinely operatic inspiration. But it . 15 complete, and it is well performed, and that, after all, is what the gramophone is for.
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