Il tenero momento: Mozart & Gluck Arias

The "tender moment" of this collection's title comes from a stunning scene in an opera Mozart wrote as a teenager, Lucio Silla. It refers to the heightening of sensitivity and expectation that love, above all else, instills. But the Mozart example (with which the album ends) might also be taken as a metonym for the way in which the most powerful emotions, including love in all its guises, from ardor to lament, can intensify the moment. It's a process that opera itself tries to replicate through the wonderful alchemy of music, text, and character. In her second recording for Erato (following the extraordinary Ned Rorem anthology), American mezzo-soprano Susan Graham focuses on the "tender moment" as depicted by Mozart and Gluck. These two masters of opera aren't often paired, though each in his highly distinct, individual way insisted on elevating the genre beyond the level of frivolous entertainment and display that the century they shared found so tempting. Graham's program of six scenes from each suggests some striking moments of common ground in terms of the larger classical aesthetic, though the success of the whole enterprise is mixed. Certainly, Graham makes a case for the radiant beauty of Mozart's opera seria writing (her own operatic debut was in Lucio Silla), which still tends to be undervalued--as though it were simply a case of the composer being enchained by excessive genre "conventions." There's a magical balance between form and content, substance and decoration in "Parto" from La Clemenza di Tito (notable enough for Antony Pay's melting basset clarinet obbligato), and in the lengthiest selection (the last one, from Lucio Silla), though Graham here exposes the instability of her lowest register.

But to whatever extent Mozart and Gluck might intersect in sensibility, the latter conjures a remarkably different universe when he depicts love's loss and abandon. Somehow the scenes from Iphigénie and, especially, Orphée et Eurydice (in its French version here) don't register as stylistically different enough and they lack that strange, altogether Gluckian combination of objective purity with emotional extremity. And as Mozart's adolescent Cherubino, the kind of intensity that Graham conveys so convincingly on stage comes across a tad too contrived. On disc alone, not all of the selections can capture the spell Graham typically casts in live performance through her combination of singing, "emotional intelligence," and stage presence. Still, it's an intelligent program, and Graham has proved to be a winning exponent of period performance style (as in 2000's superb Alicina). The match here with the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment is a happy one. --Thomas May