Mozart: Così fan tutte

DISAPPOINTING

After the home-run, knockout recording of "Figaro", I was expecting the same from 'Cosi Fan Tutte". Although I adore Currentzis' boldness, fearlessness and originality, this has two major flaws. First, Ferrando's 'A lo veggio anima bella" is omitted. Despite the fact that it is often cut in regional performances, there is no excuse for this in what is supposed to be a major statement by this exciting young conductor. It is THE moment where Ferrando falls deeply in love, and its omission leaves a big gaping hole. Next is "Per pieta, bel idol mio...", which brings the action to a major halt. The cavatina is so slow as to sound like a funeral dirge, and takes far too much time. To make matters worse, the cabaletta is whispered, not belted, which robs it of its intensity and impact. Fiordiligi is supposed to be having an existential crisis, and it seems she is just marking time. This is too big a contrast in style to the rest of the recording, which delivers nearly as well as the "Figaro". Given the plethora recordings of this sublime opera, you have no reason to add it to your list.
Still, this will not stop me from grabbing his 'Don Giovanni" as soon as it hits the market. And it better be great, Teodor. You hear me?

Interesting concept if not the best.

I so enjoyed the Nozze under Currentzis and there is so much that is wonderful about this Cosi that it is with great regret that, because I have to agree regarding the problems the reviewers before me have noted, I cannot recommend it with enthusiasm. Too often I had to adjust the volume when soft sections were so soft I could hardly hear them, while at other times the voices simply sounded distant or, worse, the orchestra covered them. We know from the liner notes that this project was a huge labor of love, so it is hard to understand why these rather serious imperfections made their way into the finished product.

Unbelievable recording of this opera, a joy to listen to.

Cosi Fan Tutte is the most duplicated work in my library and now I must have close to 40 versions.
This supreme masterpiece always draws the best from it's performers, I can't think of a half hearted effort in the vast discography. Certainly not from Greek conductor Teodor Currentzis who admirably managed to get SONY to record in studio the Da Ponte trilogy, something that not even William Christie got in Harmonia Mundi and then in ERATO.
Of course recording in Perm, in the middle of the Urals must have helped, it must be very cheap to record there. From the booklet one can see that all the strings are Russian and the winds from Western Europe, the orchestra is very good.
Currentzis like in the previously issued Le Nozze di Figaro, got several weeks of rehearsal to polish every little detail, probably not since the times of Walter Legge and John Culshaw, a studio recording got these many rehearsals. The time was well spent, everybody seems on his toes, unusually but quite correctly Currentzis allows some appoggiaturas [not written decorations in the arias usually improvised by the singers]. There is unanimity of purpose from all and it is a very fine performance, so where does it stand?
Difficult to say, the competition is tremendous. Among HIP versions I like better the superb René Jacobs, it's as well rehearsed and prepared and his singers are in general better, and in the case of the Fiordiligi much better. Simone Kermes for Curretzis is an acquired taste: the voice is thin and somewhat characterless, the role lies low for her, she manages the low notes as whispers, but I feel this wouldn't work in the theater. Fortunately she sings the role straight, without her usual eccentricities, but hell, there are so many divine Fiordiligis [Lisa della Casa, Lella Cuberli, Margaret Price, Leontyne Price, Elizabeth Schwarzkopf, Gundula Janowitz, Kiri Te Kanawa, Montserrat Caballé and yes, Vèronique Gens for Jacobs] that one has to say that La Kermes just doesn't belong to their ranks. The Dorabella is much more pleasing, Malena Ernman is a singer to watch, the voice is attractive, and she tries to be lively, but she too can't erase memories of goddesses like Teresa Berganza, Frederica von Stade, Christa Ludwig or Tatiana Troyanos, but in her own terms she does well. The Despina is even better, Anna Kasyan sings well as is very funny, an enjoyable performance. Tenor Kenneth Tarver also sings well but lacks personality, especially when compared with super star tenors like Leopold Simoneau, Alfredo Kraus, Luigi Alva, Francisco Araiza and Hans-Peter Blochwitz. The role of Ferrando is fiendishly difficult, in the XIX Century no less than Rubini had it in his repertoire, now tenors seem more capable of solving the technical difficulties, and Tarver sounds very comfortable indeed, but a more positive and memorable personality is missing. The Don Alfonso, Konstantin Wolff, is another competent but slightly unmemorable performer. You just have to hear a Sesto Bruscantini or a Gabriel Bacquier to see how much more you can get from the role. And last but not least, Christopher Maltman as Guglielmo gives the one performance I liked a lot: virile, elegant, stylish and engaging, very fine indeed.
I was all the more disappointed that Guglielmo's discarded aria "Rivolgete a lui lo sguardo" was not included. Now many recordings have it, and since it's inexpensive to record in Perm, there's no excuse for omitting it.
So, not a first choice in spite of a good recording because of the mighty competition.

It is too bad all the breathless hype has encouraged us to believe that Currentzis' traversal, or better, travesty, of Mozart's da Ponte operas is the Next Great Thing. I recall the Great Roger Norrington Fad, occasioned when we were subjected to recordings that sounded like the conductor had a plane to catch and still needed to use the lavatory first. We were all informed in the same breathless tones that this was the Next Great Thing. And now? Not so much.

It is a shame Currentzis (even the name bespeaks evanescence) had to traduce a masterpiece for which he has expressed his disdain. Perhaps he should go play what he loves and leave off wasting resources on such dismal affairs as this recording. It is mannered, cut, and otherwise manhandled in a way that leaves it all but incoherent. It is not fit company for such interpretations as the first Solti version, or Lombard's, or Jacobs', for instance.

Presently, more sober judgments will prevail and this sorry affair will be consigned to the ignominious oblivion it so richly deserves, along with phlogiston, pet rocks, and gluten-free Beethoven. Meanwhile, perhaps the adulation of this version by hyperventilating devotees should be called "Cosi fan pazzi."