The second instalment of the Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra's The Splendour of Mozart lived up to its title.
Conductor Piero Bellugi brought opera house to town hall for a magnificent Clemenza di Tito overture. There was ceremony and sparkle, grandeur and grace; our expectations were primed for the evening
ahead.
A scaled-down orchestra gave us an Andante, written by the 9-year old composer. This was a sighing serenade, cast over the pizzicato of second violins and lower strings, its prettiness caught to the last curtseying phrase.
Soprano Rebecca Ryan dispensed assured coloratura in the "Et incarnatus est" from the great C minor Mass, her vocal radiance set off by the attractive siciliana lilt of the accompaniment.
Rachelle Durkin gave the Exsultate Jubilate the full operatic treatment.
Without score in hand, the Australian soprano added chutzpah and character to the motet.
At times one could sense the pragmatic Susanna in the opening movement or the languishing Countess in "Tu virginum corona".
The "Alleluja" was a triumphal finale.
After interval, Conal Coad was riveting in Salieri's malevolent aria from Rimsky-Korsakov's Mozart and Salieri. Sans score, he made it the full dramatic experience, poison bottle and all, as the music criss-crossed from 18th century pastiche to monologue that could slip into Boris Godunov.
Der Schauspieldirektor is an intimating name for a work as frothy as Mozart's one-act singspiel mocking the operatic foibles of 1786.
A cleverly adapted libretto enabled Coad to launch the piece as impresario/MC.
With an accent that could slice bratwurst, he spun cynical bon mots about operatic survival with the panache of Max Bialystock from The Producers.
Yet Mozart's music - a scintillating overture and four vocal pieces - is top-drawer material, and received the treatment it deserved.
A matchless quartet joshed and vied with one another to the delight of the audience.
Durkin was a absolute hoot as the Amazonian Madame Herz, almost vanquishing Ryan's petulant Mademoiselle Silberklang with a top F.
Richard Greager elegantly nailed the flustered Vogelsang, pleading "Piano, pianissimo" to the divas excesses while Coad added a resonant, knowing bass to the Finale.
I suspect Mozart himself may have been smiling in paradise.
