Claudio Abbado

“Claudio Abbado’s Magic Flute sounds like a breath of fresh air… Since his own near-death experience during a grave illness, every piece he conducts has taken on a sense of existential urgency, including the Flute. One has seldom heard the work performed with such a light touch and effortless fluency, with such feeling for dramatic refinement and with the characters so musically alive.” (Die Zeit, May 2005)

“This is certainly the most desirable version using modern instruments to appear since Solti's second recording in 1990. That said, its characteristics are rather nearer William Christie's 1995 period-performance (reviewed above).
Abbado undertook the opera for the first time in performances in Italy in 2005, directed by his son (the production was seen at the 2006 Edinburgh Festival). On this occasion, he conducts a direct, keenly articulated, inspiriting account of the score, obviously aware of what has been achieved in recent times by the authenticists, yet when he reaches the work at its most Masonic – the Act 2 trio and the scene with the Armed Men, Tamino and Pamina – Abbado, directing his beloved Mahler Chamber Orchestra, gives the music its true and wondrous import. The playing throughout is alert and scrupulously articulated.
Casts varied between performances; here Abbado assembled one predominantly chosen from a youngish generation of German-speaking singers, each of whom approaches his or her role with fresh sound and interprets it in impeccably Mozartian style. The Tamino and Pamina are well nigh faultless. Tamino has been taken by many outstanding tenors on disc but Christoph Strehl sings with a Wunderlich-like strength and beauty, and rather more light and shade than his famous predecessor brought to the role. His is a wonderfully virile, vital reading that gives pleasure to the ear, as much in ensemble as in aria. He is partnered by Dorothea Röschmann, who has already appeared as Pamina at Covent Garden, and in many other houses. Her full-throated, positive singing, finely shaped, cleanly articulated, is a true match for Strehl's.
Hanno Müller-Brachmann is a properly lively and amusing Papageno, and delivers the role in a richer bass-baritone than many interpreters provide. He doesn't attempt a Viennese accent in the dialogue (a fairly full version), but brings plenty of simple humour to the part. The high and low roles are well catered for. The Hungarian coloratura Erika Miklósa has been making a speciality of Queen of Night over the past few years and shows just why in a technically secure and fiery account of her two arias. René Pape sings Sarastro: now at the peak of his career, he conveys all the role's gravity and dignity in a gloriously sung performance. Kurt Azesberger is a suitably nasty Monostatos.
Abbado allows a few neatly executed decorations.
The extensive dialogue, spoken in a manner suitable for the theatre, sometimes sounds over-emphatic in the home, with the Papagena as an old woman the worst culprit. The recording is reasonably well balanced. As a whole the performance conveys a welcome immediacy and spontaneity and the daring of Abbado's way with the score is very alluring.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010

“...a triumphant success. René Pape's magnificent Sarastro dominates the opera, just as intended...But most magical of all are the little vocal ensembles, wonderfully warm and refined...this is above all an affectionately relaxed performance, with Abbado continually revelling in the lyrical beauty of Mozart's wonderful score.” Penguin Guide, 2010 ****

“Abbado… conducts a direct, keenly articulated, inspiriting account of the score… The playing throughout is alert and scrupulously articulated. The Tamino and Pamina are well nigh faultless. …Christoph Strehl… sings with a Wunderlich-like strength and beauty... He is partnered by Dorothea Röschmann... Her full-throated, positive singing, finely shaped, cleanly articulated, is a true match for Strehl's. Hanno Müller-Brachmann is a properly lively and amusing Papageno... René Pape sings Sarastro: now at the peak of his career, he conveys all the role's gravity and dignity in a gloriously sung performance.” Gramophone Magazine, June 2006

"Milstein's fine (1973) version with Abbado remains among the more satisfying recordings." Penguin Guide*** (2003) [Tchaikovsky]

“A subtle and idiomatic performance benefits from a strong cast and a sensitive recording. But Abbado's sense of theatre also allows the opera's grandest scenes to resonate vividly.” BBC Music Magazine, October 2005

“None is better or more thoroughly and thoughtfully conducted – and in Verdi, that is of the essence” Gramophone Magazine

“This notable recording followed immediately on from the famous Faggioni production at the 1977 Edinburgh Festival, a staging finely observed enough still to remain with those who were there. In it Berganza declared her aim of rescuing the role from bad traditions and from its insults to Spanish womanhood. Her reading was restrained, haughty, but no less attractive and haunting for that. She developed the character, as she does on the recording, from carefree gypsy to tragic woman and, in doing so, is scrupulous in her obedience to Bizet's notes, rhythms and dynamics. Nothing is exaggerated yet nothing is left out in this sensuous but never overtly sensual portrayal, bewitchingly sung.
Maybe you don't feel the full engagement of her emotions in her entanglement with José, but better a slight reticence than overacting.
Migenes, on the Maazel set, is more immediately seductive, and occasionally more varied in tonal colouring, but Berganza is the more subtle artist. She works in keen rapport with Abbado, who brings clarity of texture, Mediterranean fire and intense concentration to the score.
You may find more elegance, more Gallic wit in, say, Beecham's famous EMI set, but only Maazel of other conductors comes near Abbado's emphasis on close-knit ensemble and histrionic strength – and both their sets come as the result of experience of 'real' performances.
Domingo benefits here, as on the Maazel in the same way, being more involved in affairs. Like his Carmen, he sometimes lacks variety of colour in his singing, but its sheer musicality and, in the last two acts, power, count for much. Sherrill Milnes is at once virile and fatuous as Escamillo should be. Cotrubas makes a vulnerable, touching Micaëla. The dialogue is heavily foreshortened compared to rival sets. Abbado chooses some of the questionable Oeser alternatives, but – apart from the one in the finale – they aren't disturbing. The recording is first-rate.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010

“Few sopranos sing bel canto with the natural beauty she supplies.” BBC Music Magazine, September 2006