By Joe Banno
Special to The Washington Post
Sunday, January 14, 2007

The candles have been blown out for last year's party marking Mozart's 250th birthday. If music lovers are feeling bloated yet somehow undernourished, it's not surprising. There was pretty stale cake served up by some of the biggest party-throwers -- tired slog-throughs of the composer's greatest hits by symphony orchestras, umpteenth revivals of well-worn productions by opera companies, and slick repackagings of old catalogue items by record companies.

But not all the celebrations were snore-inducing: In spite of all the idea-free programming that threatened to turn this unparalleled genius into some 18th-century Muzak machine, a revolution continued to brew. Period-instrument ensembles -- regarded a generation ago as little more than squeezebox curiosities -- have been sounding better and better. And they've now proliferated to the point where their lean, punchy sound is edging out the beefier, more homogenized tone we've grown used to from modern orchestras as the norm for Mozart performance.

A spate of new recordings gives ample evidence of this sea change. Fortepianist and conductor Jos van Immerseel has released his most dazzling CD to date, leading his period-instrument orchestra, Anima Eterna, in a program of Mozart concertos -- for two fortepianos, for flute and harp, and the third of four he wrote for natural horn (Zig-Zag Territoires -- ZZT060201). Immerseel launches timbral surprises in practically every bar of these scores. Indeed, so ravishing and unexpected is the detail he uncovers -- whether in his own, robust keyboard playing in the outer movements of the fortepiano concerto, or in the candlelit intimacy he distills in the horn concerto's Larghetto -- that Mozart is revealed as no less vivid an orchestral colorist than Berlioz, Ravel or Richard Strauss.

Yet not for one moment does Immerseel's approach sound grandstanding or foisted upon Mozart. Rather, it illuminates pieces regarded as among the composer's more lightweight efforts and allows their remarkable invention to blossom. An unmissable disc.

It's a shame that the Flute and Harp Concerto is duplicated on a new disc from the Freiburger Barockorchester, led by concertmaster Gottfried von der Goltz, as it's also a reading worthy of listeners' attention (Harmonia Mundi -- HMC 901897). As it happens, the concerto makes a rather different (though equally enchanting) effect with the Freiburg band. Whether due to the recording balance or to interpretive choice (a little of both, I expect), the harp emerges as a more reticent, more diaphanous presence here than on the Immerseel recording, lending a teasingly elusive magic to the slow movement.

Goltz's program, centered on works Mozart wrote during a 1778 stint in Paris, includes the engaging Symphonie Concertante for Winds, K. 297b (a piece left unfinished, and performed here in a completion by Robert D. Levin). How period wind-playing has progressed since the pinched, error-prone standards of 30 years ago! Here, the interplay of the soloists is supple and piquant -- truly a primer in how these often recalcitrant old instruments should be played. But best of all is the swaggering, bustling reading of the so-called "Paris" Symphony No. 31, K. 297. At a little over 15 minutes in length it's by far the shortest work on the disc, but it yields the most memorable performance, from the thrusting exuberance of its opening movement to an Andante wafted in as on a summer breeze.

The shortest work on conductor Marc Minkowski's recent CD with the orchestra Les Musiciens du Louvre also generates the most excitement on the disc (Deutsche Grammophon Archiv -- B0006506-02). Sandwiched between Mozart's mighty, final two symphonies, Nos. 40 and 41, is 12 minutes' worth of ballet music from the composer's opera "Idomeneo." Too long and anticlimactic for its placement in the opera, this sequence of contrasting dance movements -- by turns imperious, playful, elegant and elemental -- forms a sort of conspectus of Mozart's range as a composer and, in Minkowski's arresting reading, it proves tremendously entertaining.

The performances of the symphonies are no less masterfully played and conducted. But here, Minkowski seems intent on demonstrating how closely his period-instrument players can mimic the richly upholstered sound of a modern symphony orchestra. That's not to say there aren't differences: Every wind solo possesses a subtle rusticity of tone that sets the Louvre's sound apart, and the transparency of the ensemble's gut-string textures gives loft to even the most Beethovenian climaxes Minkowski whips up.

If Minkowski's Mozart looks clearly ahead to the grander scale of the romantic era, Fabio Biondi's looks back to the baroque. His new recording -- as conductor and soloist -- of Mozart's Violin Concertos, Nos. 1, 2, and 3, with his orchestra Europa Galante, taps into the same whiz-bang energy of his recordings of Vivaldi (Virgin Classics -- 0946 3 44706 2 9). Tempos are fleet, accents strike like lightning, and a continuo group (which includes guitar and fortepiano) percolates through the instrumental fabric to keep things chugging along.

Biondi is, if anything, even more aggressive than Immerseel at pulling out startling color from this composer's scores, in this case treating the music with a trenchancy and sighing tenderness that recall Venetian composers of a half-century prior to Mozart. The performance of Concerto No. 3 -- driven by propulsive rhythms and floor-stamping downbeats, and characterized by a heartiness in the solo playing that brings folk fiddling to mind -- is an astonishing re-imagining of the piece. It was unlike any performance I've heard and, I have to admit, Biondi has spoiled me for all those demure violinists who tread delicately through this music.

All of the musicmaking under consideration points the way toward a new, historically informed symphonic tradition in the performance of 18th-century music. But that doesn't mean modern-instrument players need be left out in the cold. New ensembles are being formed that incorporate both old and new instruments. One such group, the Mannheimer Mozartorchester, was pulled together in time for last year's celebration of Wolfgang by conductor Thomas Fey. Combining modern strings (played with minimal vibrato) and modern winds (given prominent placement in the sound balance) with period brass and timpani, this ensemble is able to marry the heft and polish of a conventional symphony orchestra with the timbral freshness and authentic playing style of original instruments.

Fey's new Mozart CD duplicates repertoire from Minkowski's disc, but fascinatingly so (Profil -- PH05047). Where Minkowski went out of his way to simulate modern sonorities with his period players in the Symphony No. 41, Fey moves in the other direction, drawing a genuine period sound from his mostly modern orchestra. As a result, Fey sounds the brasher, more invigorating interpreter -- aided in no small part by his vigorous attacks and lively way with phrasing. The Symphony No. 39 is, if anything, even more vividly rendered and exhilarating, with a swaggering confidence to the playing and a clear, interpretive trajectory from start to finish. Toss in a big-boned reading of the overture to Mozart's opera, "La Clemenza di Tito," and you've got another winner of a disc.

As these CDs reveal, today's period-instrument players are in a different league of technical ability and virtuosity than their predecessors, and historically informed orchestras have grown exponentially in richness, power and timbral blend. If these ensembles multiply until they become a fixture in all the major music capitals, they may just signal the death knell for the kind of by-the-numbers Mozart our established symphony orchestras churn out every season to fill their 18th-century-music quotas. And that would be a wish worth blowing out 250 candles for.