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Although this performance has circulated before (on Cetra LPs and Rodolphe CDs), never has the sound been as vivid as it is on this first "official" release. The master tapes have been lost, but EMI's off-the-air sources are better than those of the smaller companies, because the sound has a wider range of color and more immediacy than any prior edition. EMI dates the performance as August 7, 1953 — while prior releases and various Furtwängler discographies date it August 11, 1953 (August 7 was the premiere of this production with Furtwängler, the 11th was the second performance). I don't know which date is correct, but I can confirm that this performance is identical to the one released on Rodolphe and Cetra. On some releases of excerpts from this performance, a different "Porgi amor" has been reported in John Hunt's Furtwängler Discography, but the one on this EMI is identical to the one on the Cetra and Rodolphe complete sets.
There are any number of factors that would lead one to say that this should not be anyone's "basic" Figaro. The tempi are frequently slower than the norm, the sound is constricted by modern standards, and the language is wrong (it is sung in German). Indeed, I would agree that a serious operatic collection, or Mozart collection, would require a modern Italian-language Figaro (the London set, an early stereo effort just reissued on CD, with Siepi, Poell, Della Casa, Güden, and Danco, conducted by Erich Kleiber, would be my choice, even though it dates from 1955, but there are plenty of more recent choices to fit all tastes).
Despite the oddities of this performance, I would not be without it, and it is hard to imagine anyone who admires this opera not valuing this extraordinary reading. Furtwängler's way with this score will not appeal to those who believe that the only correct way to perform Mozart is the clipped, crisply articulated, quickly-paced modern style of those who would claim "authenticity" (I'd still like to know where they found Mozart's area code), but the rest of us are likely to revel in its broad phrases, grand architecture and scope. Although broadly paced, it does not drag. It is grand, richly textured, and stately, but never heavy-handed or plodding. At the slow tempi, the singers are able to relish every word and every phrase, to play with the music in a way that is not possible at the rapid pace of many of today's performances. While it takes some getting used to, the German language actually helps this performance achieve its stature, because it is the native language of every singer and the audience, and one can sense the interaction between audience and performers, and between each performer and his/her colleagues. Words are played with, articulated with precision and clarity lacking in almost all of today's operatic performances, with consonants playing their proper role in giving rhythmic shape and point to the melodic line. This performance has about it a sense of conversation — pitched conversation to be sure — rather than artful singing, and the result is an intimacy, a give-and-take, and a humanity that I have, frankly, not encountered in any other Figaro.
About the cast, very little needs to be said. It is an assemblage of the premier Mozart singers active in Vienna and Germany in the immediate post-war era. You will never hear the female roles in this opera sung this way again. Schwarzkopf, out of the recording studio (and, therefore, out from under the thumb of her well-meaning but sometimes stifling husband Walter Legge) is a glorious Countess — magisterially soaring, sensitive to the poignancy of the Countess' situation but also to the wit and energy of the piece. Seefried and Güden are astonishing, the latter proving that a soprano Cherubino really does make more sense than a mezzo. The blending of the voices of these three sopranos, and the interplay between them, is simply without parallel. The men are almost on this level. Schöffler was a few years past his best by 1953, and a hint of vocal roughness mars his otherwise varied and colorful portrayal of the Count. Kunz's Figaro is superbly sung and acted, however; as should be the case, a wry humor underlies almost everything he sings, every observation he makes. The smaller roles are all well cast.
It all comes back, however, to the conducting. In moments like "Dove sono" ("Wohin flohen" here), you may think you have died and gone to Heaven. Time comes to a complete stop, while the heartbreaking poignancy of the Countess' situation is made painfully real. Changes of speed are perfectly judged and regulated throughout, so that even when going from very slow to faster-than-usual (which is sometimes the case), the transition is so smooth that one isn't even aware of it. Furtwängler pays extremely careful attention to dynamic shadings, and to the shaping of phrases, all with an eye to binding the music into large paragraphs, not short sentences. Throughout, even at the slowest tempo, he gets the orchestra to sustain its tone throughout the length of a note or a chord; if that tone is pianissimo or forte is not the point; at either dynamic, it is just as intense after its initial sounding as it is when it first sounds. This, more than anything else, is what preserves line and flow, and it is what no conductor in our century managed better than Furtwängler. This issue of musicians sustaining tone so that the initial sounding of a note is not unduly emphasized (thus giving the music a bumpy feeling because of emphases on the articulation of every new note) is one of the most important, and under-rated, issues of conducting; it is something Wagner himself wrote about in his essay On Conducting, defining it as the basis of expression in all of music.
EMI provides a very good essay about the history of this production at Salzburg, and about this specific performance, as well as a synopsis of the plot — all in multiple languages (including English). No libretto is included, however. As I indicated above, the sound does distort at levels over mezzo-forte, but the distortion is not horrible and one gets used to it fairly soon. The general quality is clear, with the singers quite present and the orchestra in the background (though not unduly so). Anyone with a tolerance for monaural broadcast quality should not object to this at all. The audience does applaud after many set pieces, which can be a distraction to some, though I find it charming and appropriate. This is one of the great Mozart operatic performances to be preserved in recorded form, and we should be grateful to EMI for having issued it in sound that is so much better than prior releases.
Henry Fogel
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