It may be hard for younger readers to realize that when this set first appeared way back in 1957, Idomeneo remained a rarity in the opera house. It was only six years since Fritz Busch's revelatory revival of the piece at Glyndebourne, a project close to his heart. Glyndebourne remained in the succeeding years the main advocate of the work, although gradually others began to realize its true worth. Busch recorded some treasurable extracts shortly before his death, with Lewis and Jurinac, as here, among the principals (they would make a desirable CD with the contemporaneous Cosi fan tutte highlights). Then in 1956-7, John Pritchard—Busch's protege—conducted this 'complete' version (the quotes are necessary as there are, unfortunately, internal cuts in several numbers). Since then most major houses have staged the piece and there have been at least three important recordings—those under Sir Colin Davis (Philips—still awaited on CD), Bohm (DG) and Harnoncourt (Teldec/Warner Classics)—with a period-instrument version from Gardiner due later in the year. While the Pritchard version retains its place as a historic recording, it has really been superseded as a convincing Mozart interpretation by its successors.
Sadly it now serves as a memorial to Richard Lewis as well as to Pritchard. Idomeneo was one of Lewis's most successful roles, which he sang at Glyndebourne as late as 1974. He is a concerned, tender and cogent ruler and father, wanting just some of the urgency and pathos of its very best interpreters, such as Rolfe Johnson, who sings in the Gardiner version. Simoneau, always a stylish and appealing Mozartian, does much to justify a tenor Idamante but isn't quite as affecting or involved as Schreier for Bohm. The little-known Udovick is a more effective Elettra than I had remembered, at once womanly and fiery in her jealousy. But, of course, the vocal glory of the performance remains Jurinac as Ilia, her tone glowing and warm, irresistibly expressive in both recitative and aria, a performance for the gods.
The choral singing and orchestral playing isn't as accomplished as that, in their very different ways, on the Bohm and Harnoncourt sets, and is somewhat dimly recorded. For technical reasons EMI haven't used the stereo tapes discovered for the World Records reissue in 1969. Only an Italian libretto is provided, no translation, a pointless piece of cheese-paring.'