MUSIC REVIEW : ‘Il Re Pastore’: A Mozartean Rarity at Nakamichi Festival

The intentions could hardly have been loftier.

For the centerpiece of its latest Nakamichi Festival, the UCLA music department undertook an exhumation on behalf of Mozart. The object of the tender, scholarly care--introduced Thursday at Royce Hall and scheduled for repetitions tonight and Sunday afternoon--was “Il Re Pastore,” a serenata written in 1775 when the precocious composer was a very mature 19.

A serenata ? That was a popular aristocratic form of the period, a festive but static opera performed at court with operatic manners but without operatic trappings. It was, if you will, a Baroque concert in costume.

Mozart cranked out “Il Re Pastore” to celebrate a visit by the Archduke Maximilian Franz to the residence of the Prince-Archbishop in Salzburg. For his libretto, the second-concertmaster of Salzburg (that was Mozart’s official, lowly title) turned to a much-used text by Pietro Metastasio. It had already served a dozen composers, including Sarti, Jomelli and Gluck.

The formula libretto--a series of stylized set pieces and recitatives concerning selfless love, noble renunciation and pastoral intrigue in the reign of Alexander the Great--did not lift Mozart to the ultimate peaks of inspiration. It did, however, move him to produce some extraordinarily graceful arias with inventive obbligato accompaniment--most notably the hero’s “L’amero, saro costante”--and at least one sublime duet--”Ah, che crudel timor.”

UCLA pretended to present the work in the manner of the Salzburg premiere. The stage was adorned with bucolic scenery. The five principals were adorned with costumes that fused 17th-Century finery with hints of Macedonian antiquity.

When uninvolved in the non-action, the cast members sat upstage, sipping water and following the score. When it was time to perform, they moved down some stairs and emoted delicately at central music stands.

It was all very pretty, very tasteful, very precious and a trifle tedious.

The quest for authenticity could, of course, only stretch so far. Aminta, the hero, had to be performed by a woman en travesti rather than the original castrato.

Other problems turned out to be less predictable. Scott Blake’s verdant, veristic flats violated the Baroque idiom. The Philharmonia Baroque, dressed in modern mufti, made the old instruments and reasonable facsimiles thereof sound rougher than necessary. The singers, though ever artful, concentrated on style at the expense of urgency.

Lisa Saffer sang the florid music of the title character sweetly, managed the embellished repetitions fluently and disappointed in the famous rondo only because her soprano tended to evaporate in the long, descending lines. As the matching shepherdess Elisa, Ann Monoyios provided the complement of limpid, flute-like tone and restrained virtuosity.

The secondary lovers, both graduates of the Sellars/Pepsico School of Mozart, were Lorraine Hunt as Tamiri (persuasively virtuosic despite some insecure pitch) and Frank Kelley as Agenore (much technique, little voice). Jeffrey Thomas faced the bravura hurdles of Alessandro Magno bravely if not without strain.

Neal Stulberg conducted with propulsive flair and a welcome concern for appropriate performance practices. A Nakamichi spokeswoman explained, incidentally, that a conflicting engagement had prevented Nicholas McGegan, the usually ubiquitous maestro of the Philharmonia Baroque, from accepting an invitation to participate.

UCLA sold an elaborate souvenir program, replete with historical essays, biographical puffery and ads. No one deemed it worthwhile, however, to include a libretto or even the titles of the set pieces. Nor, for that matter, did the good academicians bother to translate the title of the serenata .

Just in case anyone wonders, “Il Re Pastore” means “The Shepherd King.”