Maybe twenty years ago, we’d hear old-timers saying that the golden age of Wagner and Verdi singers was over, that all “new” names were Mozart singers. As I had missed the era of Gundula Janowitz, Lucia Popp, Margaret Price, Francisco Araiza et al, I couldn’t help thinking my older friends were completely off the mark. They wouldn’t dream that these new “Mozartian” would in two or three years never ever sing Mozart again. As a matter of fact, it would be more accurate to say that the days of Mozartian singing are gone. Opera houses now usually cast their Mozart operas with young members of the ensemble who deal with it as a chore, a joyless experience of being formatted into absolute legato, flawless intonation, immaculate phrasing and perfect coloratura. You can always hear in their voices the hopes of making into a Bohème or a Lohengrin the following season. When you do find the A-team in a Mozart opera, this won’t probably happen in an opera house, but either in a festival (as in Salzburg) or in a concert hall (as in the Théâtre de Champs-Elysées) instead.
A semi-staged Così Fan Tutte had been originally scheduled with the Kammerorchester Basel under Giovanni Antonini with Julia Kleiter (their Donna Anna in their Mozart opera series). However, due to the pandemics, the concerts were postponed, finally taking place this month with a different cast. Although one wouldn’t call it an all-stars enterprise, it did feature of trio of big names in the “historically informed” corners of the classical music scene: Julia Lezhneva as Fiordiligi, Emöke Barath as Dorabella and Sandrine Piau as Despina. These days, this is as close as we can get to glamorous casting, and I wouldn’t risk to miss it.
I have to be honest. After Emmanuelle Haïm’s Il Trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno in Berlin, I wasn’t very excited about hearing Ms. Lezhneva, because she gave me the impression there of undergoing some kind of vocal crisis. I am happy to report that this is not true. This evening she proved to be in her best form. At any rate, this was a vocal display, even if one would think twice before calling it an exemplary rendition of the part of Fiordiligi. It is not as simple as saying “good”, “bad” or “meh”, for it was at once impressive and puzzling. This Russian singer has always been hard to classify – she has been called a mezzo but has often sung soprano music, although her money notes has never been on either extreme of her range. At this point, she manages high tessitura without ado, yet the voice often looses color around a high a, and she tends to cut notes short in those moments. But that’s entirely unimportant. One would rather raise one’s eyebrows because of her peculiar way of building her interpretation around off-pitch effects, emphatic attack, parlando and an occasional yowly attach of individual notes. All this sounds more noticeable because she can otherwise produce crystal-clear Mozartian phrasing and seamless legato, when she does not indulge in episodes of overornamentation — and she often does. Again: this is not a problem. I would bet that Adriana Ferrarese del Bene must have done the same in her days. All that said, Ms. Lezhneva’s jaw-dropping facility with fioriture allows her to sing Mozart’s most excruciating passagework perfectly a tempo, even when the tempo is fast. And the gain in terms of rhythmic clarity is enormous. She also presided the ensembles with a radiating naturalness and floated some beautiful soft high notes. And she knows the text and is reactive to it. The balance was certainly positive, and even in a narcissistic and not 100% stylish way, she brought a diva quality to the game that is sorely missing in this repertoire.
My curiosity about Ms. Barath’s Dorabella remains unsatisfied, for this Hungarian soprano fell ill and was replaced by German mezzo Susan Zarrabi, whose very light mezzo has an irresistible fruity quality. She sang with unfailing charm and showed some joie de chant rare to find in a singer in the role of Dorabella. Sandrine Piau is not a big-theatre singer, and yet Despina is a part that fits her voice. She can produce the quicksilvery sheen expected from a Mozart soubrette, yet is also able to sound unusually full-toned in the big moments. She also has some trumps up her sleeve in what regards low notes. What made her probably the most interesting person on stage this evening, however, was sheer charisma.
Among the men, bass Tommaso Barea stood out with a voice rich, forceful and flexible that shows great potential. His native-speaker’s delivery of the text makes all the difference in the world too. Alasdair Kent’s tenor is not on the dulcet side and is a tad rattling, yet he manages coloratura expertly, marching Ms. Lezhneva’s dexterity in their duet. Konstantin Wolff sounded hoarse as Don Alfonso, and his Italian lacks spontaneity. If he was indisposed, this should have been made known to the audience.
Giovanni Antonini is not the kind of Mozart conductor who transports you to a universe of sensorial bliss. He is fond of raspy strings, spasmodic accents and a rather “dry” orchestral sound. As the Stadtcasino Basel’s acoustics are almost too warm for this repertoire, the effect was of a rather diffuse sound picture. Nevertheless, the rhythmic alertness in a performance with tempi on the fast side made ensembles truly exciting. One could feel the thrill of the risk of dealing with these pages of difficult music for all singers in a breathtaking pace. And after a long diet of bureaucratic Mozart, I did appreciate.
I HEAR VOICES 
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