Mozart, Symphony No. 34,
Concert Arias, Vesperae solennes
de confessore, K. 339, Orchestre National de France, Riccardo Muti, Théâtre
des Champs-Elysées, Paris, 12.01.2006 (FC)
This concert marked the 25th
year that Riccardo Muti has been making
seasonal appearances with the Orchestre
National de France and there were ample
signs the love affair continues: cheers
from the crowd before he played a note,
scalped tickets, movie stars in the audience
and bouquets thrown on stage. Despite the
“gala” nature, he made a point of being
serious with an all-Mozart evening which
focused on a particular period of the composer’s
output. His Symphony No. 34 in C, which
began the concert, is K. 338, and the Vesperae
solennes, which concluded, is K. 339.
Both were composed around September 1780,
when he was still in the service of the
Archbishop of Salzburg but planning his
move to Vienna.
Joining the famously well-coiffed maestro
was a quartet of talented young singers
with two doing a pair of concert arias each.
The K. 369, Ah! Non son io, and the
K. 374, A questo seno…Or cie il cielo,
were both composed some six months later
when he already had left Salzburg. These
were sung with a winning musicality and
grace by the German soprano Julia Kleiter.
Already known in Paris (she has sung Pamina
in two different Paris Opera productions),
she was the audience favorite. The other
two concert arias, Alcandro, lo confesso…
Non so d’onde viene (K. 512) and Mentre
ti lascio (K. 513) were by another known
performer, the young Italian bass Ildebrando
D’Arcangelo. He has appeared in Paris with
relative frequency in Mozart and Rossini
operas in recent years but here he seemed
raspy in the lower ranges, a problem I do
not remember him having earlier. A seasonal
malady?
A small quibbling detail: singers need
to understand that these concert arias always
have a story to be told, however microscopic.
Singing the words without injecting some
emotion, which is often done and was done
this night, makes these gems unnecessarily
limp-wristed. This was particularly surprising
from D’Arcangelo, whose characters on stage
are usually robustly etched.
The pleasures of this Vespers can, for
many, be a bit of a surprise. Mozart’s liturgical
music is both under-recorded and under-performed
but has as much musical gold to be minded
as any other part of his large body of work.
The tender music of the Laudate Dominum,
sung with caressing tones by soprano Kleiter
and the Choir of Radio France and the rousing
Magnificat, which concluded, are
only two examples of what awaits the larger
public. The orchestra and chorus apparently
look forward to these evenings as much as
the audience and performed with world-class
dedication and precision.
Why is Muti’s Mozart so enjoyable? He is
“old style” in a way, conducting as if “historically
informed performance” never happened: with
a modern orchestra and all the dramatics
of the old podium lions. But his x-ray view
of textures and balance and his ever-present
energy makes the music sail along as if
touched by a magic wand. Because the wit
and joy of Mozart’s music is often in the
details, Muti’s careful attention to even
the smallest arpeggio makes his interpretations
surprisingly on target.
The recent dust-up in Milan means his future
time there will be limited to guest stops.
When he delivers concerts, however, with
the incandescent joy of this (broadcast
throughout France), there could hardly be
another major city anywhere in the world
that would not welcome him with open arms
and coffers.
Frank Cadenhead
