Mozart composed his oratorio Betulia liberata on a commission from a nobleman in Padua in 1771, but what happened to it then remains a mystery. Almost certainly, he and his father sent the score to Padua when they were nearby, for the Milan premiere of Ascanio in Alba, that autumn; they had planned to visit the city, presumably for the rehearsals and performance, but in the event remained in Milan in the hope (vain, as it turned out) of obtaining some kind of preferment. There is in fact no evidence that it was performed at all, and Mozart scholars have generally assumed that it wasn't; but a lack of evidence does not actually prove anything and it is perfectly possible that it was heard as planned.
Mozart briefly considered reviving it, or some of it, many years later, but soon abandoned the idea; its style, dramatic as well as musical, was dated even when it was composed, for this is a Metastasio setting, of an elderly libretto which concentrates on the religious message and the states of mind of the characters-the Israelites in besieged Bethulia, whose want of faith is the subject of much discussion and exhortation. Judith's courage and faith, of course, lead her to decapitate the Assyrian general, Holofernes, an event described in a telling narration in accompanied recitative, in some respects the highpoint of the work, delivered with a halo of string sound (like the words of Christ in Bach's Passions) that imparts a remarkable visionary quality to the music. Indeed, much of the work has this quality: the entry of Judith in Part 1 has at once the sense of a dramatic turning-point, and her arias introduce a new and deeper tone: the first a beautiful F major piece with serene flutes, the second more impassioned (and incidentally they share a secondary theme, transformed, Liszt-style, to illustrate her turbulence). There is some fine music too for Amital, a noblewoman, notably a remarkable prayer near the end of the work.
Whether or not the Paduans gave Betulia in 1771, they did in 1991, and this recording follows from a bicentenary performance. It is assured and strongly felt. Peter Maag's tempos tend to be on the slow side (some of the middle sections of the arias excessively so, perhaps), but the error is probably in the right direction for it does help to put across the gravitas of the work. Here and there he tends to be over-emphatic, and he oddly varies the Adagio section of Amital's prayer between very slow and moderate. At first I thought Gloria Banditelli a shade unimaginative and cool in the central role of Judith, but this rather measured and poised interpretation, supported by firm and even tone and some intensity of manner, becomes increasingly persuasive as the work continues. Lynda Russell's lovely free, open singing in the role of Amital is wholly delightful, and the important role of the priest Ozias is very capably done, with due weight and clean passagework, by Ernesto Palacio; he has some fine music to sing, above all the lovely choral piece with divided violas and pizzicato accompaniments in Part 1. Achior, the Assyrian converted by the events of the story, is sung with good feeling for words as well as music by Petteri Salomaa. All praise to the Paduans for their attention to this significant piece of their musical heritage.'