Fan fare MUSIC-1
EDWARD BOYLE
Cosi fan tulle, ever since I saw the 1950 Glyndebourne production, has always been my favourite Mozart opera, partly because of the surpassing beauty of the numerous ensembles, and partly because of the perfect fit of the music to a drama which itself maintains an exquisite balance between parody and truth- to-life.
The new Covent Garden production by John Copley, conducted by Georg Solti, was rap- turously received, and will surely make many opera-goers fall in love with this uniquely beautiful music all over again. Admittedly there are a number of minor flaws. The one sure way to ruin this opera is to guy the emotion, or even to underline it, and I would plead for a re-think of the episode in Act 2 when the two ladies start to engage in embar- rassed polite conversation with their disguised lovers (Oh the bella giornata' etc); the blurting out of the words after heaVy paum seemed to me quite mistaken—the small-tap wants to be instant, and then this passage can sound delicious. But there are other touches in Mr Copley's production which deserve high praise. I liked especially, in the Act 2 finale, the distant sound of 'Bella vita militar' while the ladies, gay and smiling, are actually in the process of signing their marriage contracts; only in the concluding bars of the chorus does the expression on their faces change to one of horrified dismay.
The cast in this new production is a very strong one, with Lucia Popp deserving special mention as quite the most irresistible Despina I have ever heard—or seen. Her voice is light, flexible, technically perfect—her acting gay and mischievous but never arch. I wish, though, she would not conduct `Secondate, aurette amiche' from the stage—this is too beautiful a moment for completely super- fluous 'business.' Pilar Lorengar looked charm- ing as Fiordiligi, and sang with her usual accomplishment, though she sounded more at home with 'Per pieta' than with the high B flats of 'Come scoglio' in Act 1; maybe her voice is beginning to deepen a little. Josephine Veasey did full credit to the home team with her performance as Dorabella.
Of the men, Luigi Alva as Ferrando sang Tin 'aura amorosa' so exceptionally beauti- fully that I was all the more disappointed at the omission of his aria 'Tradito' in Act 2; surely this must not be left out—the C minor opening, followed by the lovely soothing counterpart phrase in the relative major, has always seemed to me both musically and dramatically one of the most effective moments in the entire opera. Wladimiro Ganzarolli's Guglielmo was full of character, and Keith
Engen a benign, unobtrusive Alfonso, at his best in the big ensembles. For it was these, as always, which remain longest in the memory. And I have never heard lovelier or better balanced performances of the glorious quintets in the first act—'Sento a Dio,' and (especially) 'Di scrivermi' which was powerfully moving and had the poise and the disciplined freedom of soloists who have really learnt not only to sing but to listen.
I have left Georg Solti's contribution to the end. One cannot quite say of him that he has a natural feeling for Mozartian style; I was disappointed, for instance, with his hand- ling of the exquisite trio `Soare sia it vento'— he hasn't the secret of what Professor Girdle- stone calls Mozart's 'fluttering seconds,' and his tempo for this trio was so exaggeratedly measured that the singers had to face him rather than look (as they surety should have done) towards the sea. And yet as the evening went on, one became ever more aware of the alertness, the gusto, and the sheer experience which are Mr Solti's special strengths as a conductor. Henry Bardon's sets were thoroughly adequate and, indeed, attractive, and 1 would say the same of David Walker's costumes.
Altogether this new production must be accounted, along with Tippett's Midsummer Marriage, as one of Covent Garden's two first achievements in 1968 so far. It beats all the marks of the most careful preparation and does worthy honour to a masterpiece in which all the richest resources of the Viennese classi- cal tradition are combined to explore human emotion at its most private and civilised.
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