It is sometimes forgotten by younger opera-goers today that until Glyndebourne revived Cosi fan tutte in 1934, the score had very seldom been performed at all in this country, and hardly ever on the Continent in the original language. So the pioneering effort of Busch and Carl Ebert was a landmark in the restoration of Mozart's operas to the repertory. That it was done at all was remarkable; that it was done so well was truly amazing. Here was a standard of ensemble unheard almost anywhere in those days. Even in the years since with innumerable performances here, in continental Europe and on disc there have been few accounts to rival this one in refined execution and dramatic truth. Although on record the EMI/Karajan version may have been more suave, the famous Bohm/EMI reading of 1962 (reissued on CD—11/88) was the first version to rival Busch's and more recently we have had Haitink's fine EMI Glyndebourne set in the Busch tradition (7/87) and last November Marriner's much-admired Philips one. None of these invalidates the achievement on this early Busch version from the Sussex Downs.
Returning to it, I was again full of praise for Busch's natural, crisp, freely flowing direction and the refined playing of his orchestra. Just as remarkable is the sense of ensemble among the voices. The six soloists have been honed by Busch into such a unity that comparison with a sextet of instruments is not far-fetched. Yet the singers manage to retain their own identity, very much so in fact. The Fiordiligi of Ina Souez (the only surviving member of the cast) is a commanding, confident character comparable today to Vaness on the Haitink set, but one eventually susceptible to the charms of Heddle Nash's, sweet-voiced elegant and lively Ferrando (sadly deprived of ''Tradito schernito''). Luise Helletsgruber's Dorabella is soft of voice, charming of manner and very feminine listen to her second ''Io burlo'' before her capitulation to Guglielmo in ''Il core vi dono''. In that role Domgraf-Fassbaender's smiling, cheery tone blends well with that of Nash and Helletsgruber. Eisinger is a vivacious, silvery Despina, acting like the others with her voice. John Brownlee may be a shade too gentlemanly for Alfonso but he, too, acts vividly through vocal means alone, and sings with complete security.
The main drawback to the set is the omission of Nos. 7, 24, 27 and 28 and the cuts in both finales and in No. 29 (the Fiordiligi/Ferrando duet). Pearl are quite wrong to state in their booklet that these excisions are still current today: the only number sometimes excluded now is Ferrando's ''Ah, lo veggio'' (No. 24). In the recitatives (severely foreshortened), Busch uses a piano rather than a harpsichord.
I understand EMI will issue their own transfer of this set in the spring. If that is as good as Keith Hardwick's LP version of 1982, issued only in France, or that of the Busch/Glyndebourne Don Giovanni (EMI (CD) CHS7 61030-2, 3/89), it will be an appreciable improvement on this Cosi. That said, it is the kind of honest picture of the original as is to be found on most Pearl issues, and your ear soon accustoms itself to the 'frying-tonight' sounds.
Where Giovanni is concerned I fear there is no contest. With Beecham's Die Zauberflote of similar vintage, Pearl's version was in many ways preferable to EMI's. But the parent company's Giovanni is one of their most immediate and silent transfers. However, if you are wedded to Pearl's straightforward method of CD processing, surface noise and all, this set will be for you. It is, of course, another example of pre-war standards at Glyndebourne. I gave my paean to it in March 1989.'