Although billed as a concert performance, this evening transpired to be rather awkwardly semi-staged, using basic sets but also music stands - and with some of the singers coming and going with their scores, while others sang and acted unhindered. As such, the resulting impression was one of a last-minute rehearsal before an opening night, rather than either a straightforward concert or fully-fledged stage production.
The proceedings got off to a good start with a sizzling and note-perfect overture. In contrast, the rather limp opening scene with Andrè Schuen (Figaro) and Mari Eriksmoen (Susanna) came as a surprise. Stiff, and lacking rapport, it took some time for both young artists to settle into their parts.
Schuen has a slender but well produced bass-baritone. Augmented by his tall and striking physique, his artistry and stage personality will surely grow in conviction with further experience. Eriksmoen reminds a little of the young Joan Sutherland (in looks). The voice is currently rather under-sized and bland in colour but remains elastic and soft-grained above the stave - and again, will hopefully further develop. While her performance gained freedom during the course of the evening, so unfortunately, did her left arm which regularly mirrored the maestro's in the pit.
Christine Schäfer was announced as suffering an ear infection. Her "Porgi Amor" was fragile, with unsteady line and a weak and constricted mid-range - and was met with embarrassed silence after the final note. Despite some improvement following the interval, tenuous moments continued - to be relieved only by occasional free-ringing phrases above the stave. Schäfer's demeanour did nothing to grace the situation - leaving a most sad and unappealing impression. Under the circumstances, one wonders whether cancellation might have been the wiser choice. Her forthcoming Donna Anna will present an interesting comparison - and a hoped for contrast.
The most satisfying all-round interpretation on this evening came from Elisabeth Kulman. Her Cherubino - boyish in her white trouser-suit, and pubescent in her "voice-cracking" register-jumping recitatives - achieved a skillful balance in tempering her rich mezzo to suit the role.
Kulman's "Non so piu" and "Voi che sapete" were the undoubted highlights of the show.
Bo Skovhus is no stranger to Count Almaviva and he deftly employed his routine and musical intelligence to circumvent any vocal shortcomings in a solid - if not memorable - reading.
Ildiko Raimondi radiates like a jewel on the stage. This demeanour is true "Countess" material, and although the Rumanian soprano is certainly past her vocal prime she knows how to dominate in her scenes as Marcellina - while here additionally enjoying the opportunity of the character's (frequently omitted) aria in which to show a still-imposing upper register.
Impressive too were Peter Kalman's Bartolo and Antonio. Oodles of stage confidence and personality combined with a rather bombastic and coarse-grained timbre gelled here to make for luxurious casting.
Less convincing was Mauro Peter's Basilio/Curzio duo. Both rather went for nothing in terms of character definition - nervous eyebrows for the former and a light stammer for the latter constituted the differentiation. Scheduled for both Ottavio and Ferrando in the on-going series, one suspects that the tenor's ambitions may well lie in events waiting in the wings.
Christina Gansch managed to leave a strong impression in her few moments as Barbarina. An attractive stage presence complimented her warm-timbred and well-projected soprano - with promise of greater challenges to come.
The Arnold Schoenberg Chor with their two highly competent (but alas anonymous) soli made a fine showing, as is their custom.
Harnoncourt's Concentus Musicus Wien produced a gamut of acoustic effects - intense, and evidently fully united with their founder and conductor. There is no questioning the fastidious attention lavished on this concept and its realization! Some moments were sublime (the underscoring to Cherubino's arias, for example). Others were marked by unfamiliar (and not obviously logical) accents, pauses, or tempi - such as Susanna's "Deh Vieni..." which seemed hectored and robbed of its sensuality and poise.
The conductor and his band were the just stars of the evening at the ensemble curtain call.
