Just when you've given up hope of hearing a recording of Busoni's opera Turandot on disc what happens—two come along at the same time. It happened with the Piano Concerto as well—to the point where we ended up with a veritable traffic-jam of recordings! Choice will be made easier, of course, by Kent Nagano's logical coupling (Arlecchino and Turandot were intended as an evening's double-bill), though I should point out that the Capriccio recording forms part of an ongoing Busoni Edition, with Arlecchino following in due course.
Musically Arlecchino is by far the superior and evenly inspired of the two. It also demands a good deal more from the listener both musically and intellectually. Though superficially a simple and straightforward tale of the rakish exploits of the hero/rogue Arlecchino, the opera contains a good deal of philosophical debate on the human condition—particularly the less attractive side of human nature. In Arlecchino's own words: '''Tis not for children, nor for gods, this play; for understanding people 'tis designed. The sense of what the characters may say may well escape an all too literal mind.'' An interesting feature of the opera is the purely spoken role of Arlecchino, which serves the twofold purpose of creating a bridge between audience and action as well as emphasizing his vital, disruptive force over the other characters. A blow-by-blow account of the plot is unnecessary what is important to know, however, is that Ariecchino was a product of the 1914–18 War and (perhaps more specifically) of the emotions that the war had aroused in Busoni's mind. It also establishes Busoni's principles of theatrical poetry and his own attitude toward opera as an art form, i.e. that a musical drama should ''create a pretence world in such a way that life is reflected in either a magic or a comic mirror, presenting consciously that which is not to be found in real life''—hence Busoni's life-long admiration for Mozart's The Magic Flute. Although Busoni himself described his Arlecchino as ''less than a challenge and more than a jest'' it must surely take its place as a major landmark in CD his output. Musically (and indeed philosophically) there is much that foreshadows his crowning achievement—begun around the same time but unfinished at his death in 1924—Doktor Faust.
As for Nagano's performance, one could not wish for a finer, more persuasive modern recording (a 1954 Glyndebourne performance lays claim to the premiere recording of the opera). Ernst Theo Richter's spoken Arlecchino is outstanding—a performance of irresistible magnetism—and Thomas Mohr provides a fine account of the much put upon Matteo, but the opera is strongly cast throughout, with exceptionally committed supporting performances from Suzanne Mentzer, Stefan Dahlberg, Wolfgang Holzmair and Philippe Huttenlocher. The orchestral playing from the Lyon Opera Orchestra, is, as we have come to expect, quite superb, with Kent Nagano once again displaying his skill at finding the perfect dramatic pace whilst eliciting exceptionally elegant performances from his players.
Turandot contains a good deal of find music (perhaps among the finest that Busoni composed for the stage) but in truth does not attain the same degree of theatrical completeness as Arlecchino. As a representation of Carlo Gozzi's original fable however, it is much more faithful (and closer in spirit) than Puccini's masterpiece. With Busoni the fable remains a fable, with Puccini fable is transformed into powerful symbolism and emotions of transmundane heights. Puccini's selfless, sacrificing Liu, for instance, is here replaced by Busoni's pragmatic, opportunist Adelma, whilst the former's cruel and terrifying Princess is seen here as a highly subtle character driven to inhumane ends in a quest for her equal. Busoni's eclectic style produces some curious (though undoubtedly highly effective) musical moments: the wailing lament of the Queen of Samarkand's female retinue sounding for all the world like a Red Indian chant, and a bizarre appearance at the beginning of Act 2 of the English melody Greensleeves (a symbolic clue as to Busoni's interpretation of the tale?). Much of the finest music is to be found in the opening and closing stages of the opera.
The Capriccio recording has much to commend it (though the lack of a printed libretto is not one of them), not least a particularly fine and formidable Kalaf in the shape of Josef Protschka (sample the opening ''Peking! Stadt der Wunder!'' and a superb trio of performances from Robert Worle Johannes Werner Prein and Gotthold Schwarz as Truffaldino, Pantalone and Tartaglia (the equivalent of Puccini's Ping, Pang and Pong). I was less convinced, however, by Linda Plech's interpretation of the title-role, which I found a little weak beside Mechthild Gessendorf's magnificent performance for the Virgin recording. Gerd Albrecht (so persuasive in unusual repertoire) conducts a spirited account of the work, attentive to both its smaller detail and its more majestic moments, and the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra respond with some stunningly inspired playing. Coupled with some excellent contributions from RIAS Chamber Choir and a vivid, suitably atmospheric recording this is certainly an issue that augers well for future releases in Capriccio's Busoni Edition.
Nagano's reading, however, has equal stature, and, as I say, a much stronger Turandot in Mechthild Gessendorf, whose darker voice seems to me more appropriate to the role. Stefan Dahlberg's Kalaf is very fine too, though if truth be told not quite in the same class as Protschka's. I cannot say that the orchestral playing is as sharply or vividly executed as the RSO Berlin for Albrecht but Nagano's players are not far behind in their involvement and commitment to the score. The recording, as in Arlecchino, is well balanced and spacious and the set is crowned with an informative and lavish booklet. If you want an authoritative reading of Arlecchino then I have no hesitation at all in recommending the Virgin set; the addition of Turandot is an added bonus, though for that work I would certainly urge all Busoni enthusiasts to explore Albrecht's excellent account too.'