Harnoncourt's Figaro is a big-boned, grand-scale, very serious reading—perhaps too serious for its own good and unquestionably studio-bound when set beside Gardiner's highly characterized, live performance. The differences between the two are startling. As is now his wont Harnoncourt uses a modern orchestra where Gardiner opts for period instruments. Harnoncourt's version therefore plays at modern pitch where Gardiner's is a semitone lower. Harnoncourt employs a harpsichord, supported by a cello, in the recitatives; Gardiner favours a (preferable) fortepiano. Harnoncourt forbids vocal embellishments and (for the most part) appoggiaturas; Gardiner allows both, but not always in a consistent fashion. Throughout, Harnoncourt, for all his customary attention to pertinent detail, disagrees with Gardiner over the matter of sharp accents and brusque rhythms, occasionally carried to excess by Gardiner. Harnoncourt follows the traditional ordering in Acts 3 and 4; Gardiner puts ''Dove sono'' before the Sextet in Act 3 and, controversially, Susanna's aria before Figaro's in Act 4 (SS discussed the merits or otherwise of these emendations in his review of the Gardiner in August). Gardiner and Oestman add various alternatives in appendices; Harnoncourt has nothing but the given score.
Even more important than these differences is the conductors' respective choice of speeds. Except in the case of Susanna's aria, Harnoncourt's tempos are decidedly slower than Gardiner's or Oestman's (fastest of all): the relatively slow speed of Harnoncourt's overture immediately announces his deliberate reading. He argues the case for his approach to speeds in a note in the booklet, but he also states there that many conductors take ''Dove sono'' and ''Contessa perdona'' more slowly than Mozart predicates—but then, incomprehensibly, in his own reading, takes the reprise of ''Dove sono'' at a snail's pace and ''Contessa perdona'' almost as romantically.
So we are dealing with totally contrasted experiences. Harnoncourt's interpretation is at its best in the ensembles. The whole of the finale of Act 2 is grand and dramatic, speeds here nicely related to one another, the tensions among the principals self-evident as they are in the duet for Marcellina and Susanna and those for the Count and Countess, the Count and Susanna. But when quick spirits are of the essence, as in Cherubino's ''Non so piu'', Figaro's ''Non piu andrai'', the ''Aprite, aprite'' duet (Susanna/Cherubino, Act 2) or Figaro's outburst against woman in Act 4, he sounds unacceptably staid, not to say dull, particularly when set beside Gardiner or indeed Oestman.
Just as important, on the Gardiner set, in the context of a live performance at London's Queen Elizabeth Hall, the singers respond to each other in the recitatives with an immediacy which can't be matched in the studio, or at least in the Concertgebouw where Harnoncourt's performance was recorded (SS particularly liked the ''lively and urgent conversation'' in the Gardiner—as I do). And that fact brings me to the respective recordings. The Teldec is too recessed and reverberant, missing the intimacy achieved, in varying ways, on L'Oiseau-Lyre and Archiv. The orchestra on Teldec sounds at once too large and too backwardly placed. The soloists are better suited.
And how do they fare in competition with their counterparts on the other versions? Bonney's Susanna, as for Oestman, is mercurial, natural in her responses to the text without overdoing things, and sovereign in her singing of ensemble and arias, little different from her earlier assumption of the part. Gardiner's Hagley, though not quite so perfect in pitch or style, offers a likeable, lived-in reading. Scharinger is a spirited, articulate Figaro but one without the presence, indeed dominance (over-dominance?) of Bryn Terfel (Gardiner) or the youthful charm and elan of Salmomaa (Oestman): all three are excellent Mozartians.
Margiono offers a deeply felt Countess, one very much in agreement with her conductor's approach, and more affecting in both arias than either of her rivals, but she has an oddly bottled-up sound at times that mars her diction. On the whole Gardiner's Martinpelto offers the more appealing and consistent character. Hampson has already recorded his Count on Levine's Figaro (DG, 9/91). He again emphasizes the petulant side of Almaviva's nature in a well-groomed, slightly lightweight reading, not always ideally pitched: Gilfry finds more variety in the part, helped incidentally by the use of appoggiaturas, particularly in the accompanied recitative before his aria, which he sings with daemonic energy. Hagegard for Oestman is if possible still better than Gilfry.
Petra Lang, a singer new to me, makes as lively a Cherubino as Harnoncourt will allow and indulges in none of the questionable antics of Pamela Helen Stephen for Gardiner. Best of all in this role is Alicia Nafe (Oestman), at once ideal of voice and with a smile in her tone. Harnoncourt scores in the smaller roles. Langridge's Basilio is much to be preferred to Egerton's overplayed caricature (Egerton also grossly exaggerates Curzio's stammer, which Harnoncourt happily excludes). Ann Murray offers a typically individual assumption as Marcellina, and sings the Act 4 aria almost as well as Della Jones for Oestman. Kurt Moll brings imposing menace to Bartolo's aria—just right. The young Barbarina is a delight.
As a whole I find the interpretations of Gardiner and Oestman (who most of all creates the essence of a small, tight-knit community) are living entities whereas Harnoncourt's is marmoreal. Oestman will still be your choice if you want to do without the laughter, applause and stage movement on the Gardiner, which might become tiresome on repetition, particularly when the laughter is related to stage effects we can't see (indeed Gardiner may best be enjoyed on the video version just out). If I wanted an old-fashioned dramatic reading I would still opt for Erich Kleiber or Davis (Philips)—or perhaps as a suitable compromise the highly charged Giulini or Solti with their superb casts—rather than Harnoncourt. And—be prepared—Mackerras has just completed his recording of Figaro with yet another view of the work.'