This concert, by Jérémie Rhorer and his period-instrument ensemble Le Cercle de l’Harmonie, was part of what one might call the Mozartwoche’s ‘Lucio Silla enrichment program’. Alongside a fully staged performance of Mozart’s 1772 setting of the opera, Artistic Director Marc Minkowski programmed a selection of excerpts from Pasquale Anfossi’s 1774 version, and a complete concert performance of Johann Christian Bach’s setting of 1775. The trilogy of Lucio Sillas offered audiences a welcome opportunity not just to become more familiar with Mozart’s lesser-known opera, but to hear his setting side-by-side with two subsequent treatments, each of which made noteworthy changes to Giovanni de Gamerra’s libretto. Such a comparative approach shows a keen appreciation for historical context, while also serving as a useful anchor for the festival.
There was just one problem, however: the soprano Sylvia Schwartz, Giunia for the Anfossi evening, came down with a last-minute cold. She still performed, but conductor Rhorer was forced to cut two of her arias and one duet, meaning that the audience was only able to hear five numbers from the Anfossi, just one of which had a counterpart in Mozart’s setting. This detracted somewhat from the comparative value of the exercise, but still made for a pleasing concert, with each of the three soloists taking solo numbers and then joining together for a closing trio.
Despite being under the weather, Sylvia Schwartz was in fine voice, singing with a warm, well-rounded tone and and complete conviction. Her cavatina, ‘Dal fortunato Eliso’, in which Giunia calls upon the spirit of her dead father to defend and console her, was heartbreaking. Granted, it made no special demands on Schwartz’s already fragile voice, but she did traverse several octave leaps with confidence, and her sense of resigned despair was mesmerizing. Her second number, the furioso aria ‘Fra i pensier più fenesti’ (also set by Mozart), contains episodes of dramatic word-painting as Giunia describes a swirl of emotions in anticipation of her beloved Cecilio’s execution (‘Già vacillo, già manco, già moro’ – I falter, I faint, I die). Schwartz made much of Giunia’s imagined rebuke from Cecilio’s ghost (‘Che tardi a morir?’ – why tarry to die?), especially on the da capo, and navigated the coloratura with admirable precision and fire.
Tenor Benjamin Bruns did not fare as well, I fear, in Silla’s aria ‘Chi mai vide’. He had a reliable instrument, shaped phrases and cadences elegantly, and offered some dramatic diminuendos in the B section. But some of the coloratura did not sound fully, and he had the stiff appearance of one making a royal proclamation, rather than a frustrated tyrant complaining at his misfortune in loving the ‘ingrata’ Giunia. Bruns performed better in the closing trio, ‘Perfidi, il vostro ardire’, in which Silla’s rage fueled a powerful sound that, at its best, evoked Richard Croft. Mezzo soprano Renata Pokupic bravely attacked her farewell aria ‘A partir tu mi condanni’, but the music did her no favours. It employed a drastically low tessitura, one probably better suited to a male countertenor. Rhorer did his best to keep the band’s volume down, but the strings still swallowed Pokupic up, as did her fellow singers in the closing trio.
To make up the time lost with the omitted numbers, Rhorer programmed a last-minute addition from Le Cercle’s repertory: the Symphony No. 10 in D minor by Henri-Joseph Rigel (opus 21, no. 2, 1786). To my knowledge, Rigel’s symphonies have only been recorded once before (by Concerto Köln in 2009), and Le Cercle certainly did this relatively obscure composer justice. The nervous energy of the outer movements was conveyed expertly by the band, especially the Erlkönig-style galloping motif underlying the final Presto. I must admit I found Rhorer’s loose, underhanded baton grip somewhat anemic, and his tendency to vacillate between one and many beats to the bar was distracting. There is no doubt, however, that he has assembled a great team of (mostly) young instrumentalists, and aside from a few burbles in the horns, the ensemble met the music’s technical demands with assurance.
The Anfossi and Rigel were framed by two early Mozart symphonies from around the time of Lucio Silla. Opening the programme was the Symphony No. 12 in G major (K110/75b, 1771), with its monothematic opening movement and imitative writing in the other three movements. Le Cercle showed a fine sense of ensemble from the outset, and a well-balanced sound. I would have liked a bit more rubato on occasion, but I enjoyed the brisk tempo Rhorer took in the Menuet and Trio, and the final Allegro, with its tricky arpeggios in the upper and lower strings, was crisp and precise.
The evening closed with Mozart’s Symphony No. 29 in A major (K201/186a, 1774). When the familiar first-movement theme began to be traded between the upper and lower strings, the antiphony was both dramatic and jolly, and Rhorer and company had great fun with the witty transition to the coda. The strings gave a lovely arc to the phrases in the Andante, and the treacherous ascending passaggi in the closing Allegro con spirito were executed with such flourish that the audience welcomed a repeat of the movement as an encore.