This being a live performance from almost thirty years ago, 
                  a few allowances have to be made for a bit of background rumble 
                  and some - but not much - audience intrusion. There’s 
                  some laughter (not objectionable) and the occasional cough but 
                  as ever these contributions are perfectly timed to coincide 
                  with tender moments. The sound is slightly tubby and the orchestra 
                  somewhat recessed but none of this is likely to trouble the 
                  seasoned listener who likes the atmosphere of live theatre and 
                  wants to hear a classic account of what is now probably Mozart’s 
                  most popular opera. 
                    
                  Colin Davis had already recorded a much-admired 
                  studio version of “Così” in 1974; the 
                  interpretation here is similarly grand in parts but also more 
                  sprightly, especially in the recitative. Despite the august 
                  presence in 1974 of such celebrated singers as Montserrat Caballé 
                  and Janet Baker, there is no doubt that they sound rather stately 
                  and mature compared with the youthful and vivacious sisters 
                  of Kiri Te Kanawa and Agnes Baltsa. Stuart Burrows’ Fernando 
                  represents a considerable advance over Nicolai Gedda, who was 
                  not in good voice for the recording. I have no doubt at all 
                  that “Britain’s favourite baritone”, Sir Thomas 
                  Allen, is vocally infinitely more suave and alluring than the 
                  gruff and rather clumsy Ganzarolli. The bass is the same in 
                  both: a saturnine and knowing Richard Van Allan. He is rich 
                  of tone, idiomatic and fluent in his delivery of text, even 
                  if he is, on occasion, slightly clumsy in more delicate vocal 
                  manoeuvres. 
                    
                  Direct comparison might also be made with a neglected recording 
                  for which I have a great affection and which I reviewed 
                  here earlier this year: the 1977 studio set conducted by Alain 
                  Lombard, with features a youthful cast headed by Te Kanawa and 
                  Frederica Von Stade. The men are less conventionally starry 
                  but they make a fine team. Te Kanawa delivers a virtually identical 
                  and superlative performance in both, although she is more animated 
                  in this version, being, as you might expect, more attentive 
                  to word-painting when performing live. Her creamy, flawless 
                  voice - which blends beautifully with that of Baltsa - makes 
                  light of the parodic coloratura in “Come scoglio”, 
                  nailing the runs and trills with consummate ease and sailing 
                  from note to note neatly on the vibrato. It is another glorious 
                  account to be savoured by her legion fans. 
                    
                  Baltsa is scarcely less accomplished: this is an impulsive, 
                  impassioned, spitfire of a Dorabella; her vibrancy of voice 
                  occasionally results in a little passing sharpness but it is 
                  a winning impersonation, as chuckles from the audience confirm. 
                  
                    
                  Daniella Mazzucato is a tad shallow and over-bright of voice 
                  as Despina. That said, her background in operetta makes for 
                  an accomplished comedienne, pert and characterful, if neither 
                  as funny as Stratas in the Lombard nor as vocally alluring as 
                  Hanny Steffek in the famous 1962 Böhm recording. Clearly 
                  the audience enjoys her mugging and stage-business. 
                    
                  Despite the slightly odd, occluded nature of his vocal production 
                  - a certain almost Russian, liquid plumminess which I nonetheless 
                  like - Stuart Burrows reminds us what an elegant tenor he possessed. 
                  He gives us plangent, melting accounts of his arias to put most 
                  other interpreters in the shade. 
                    
                  Allen as Guglielmo is in fine, velvet voice, capable of oscillating 
                  between oleaginous charm when he is playing the seducer and 
                  gritted-teeth venom when betrayed. 
                    
                  Davis once more proves his Mozartian credentials: I love the 
                  way he injects pace into the “E voi ridete” exchange 
                  between the three plotters but can relax for the most famous 
                  number, “Soave sia il vento”, which at a leisurely 
                  4:14 is permitted to hover, suspended in the air, producing 
                  a timeless moment of beauty just as it should. The orchestra 
                  is very fine - especially the euphonious woodwind and horns. 
                  
                    
                  The set is in an attractive clam-shell box, the 3 discs in cardboard 
                  sleeves. No libretto is provided except via a link on the Opus 
                  Arte website. This does not bother me but I can understand how 
                  it irritates others. 
                    
                  This is, in short, an attractive set, not in the very best sound 
                  but nonetheless a really satisfying souvenir of a great night 
                  at the opera and perhaps also a version to live with if you 
                  follow the artists in question. 
                    
                  Ralph Moore