Emanuel Schikaneder’s company at Vienna’s suburban Theater auf der Wieden staged several new fairy-tale Singspiels. Exactly one year before The Magic Flute, they produced Der Stein der Weisen, oder Die Zauberinsel (‘The Philosophers’ Stone, or The Enchanted Island’, September 1790), and their plots have obvious parallels. Sentimental noble lovers Nadir and Nadine are juxtaposed with comical lowbrow newlyweds Lubano and Lubanara. Shipwrecked and washed ashore on a magic island, Nadir is tricked by the spirit Eutifronte into believing that he must kill the demigod Astromonte in order to rescue his beloved Nadine. Later on, the misled hero discovers that the supposed enemy is, unexpectedly, the benevolent protector of the island – and his own father. It transpires that the real villain is Eutifronte; the estranged, jealous and evil brother of Astromonte is desperate to inherit their deceased father’s emblem of mystical power (ie the philosophers’ stone). Correct and true order is restored when the stone is brought by an eagle to its rightful heir, Nadir.

The premiere recording by Boston Baroque and Martin Pearlman collaborated with musicologist David J Buch, who discovered a manuscript score by Viennese copyists that names the composers responsible for almost every number. The five contributors were Johann Baptist Henneberg (the company’s music director), Franz Xaver Gerl (the first Sarastro), Benedikt Schack (the first Tamino), Schikaneder (the first Papageno) and Mozart. This new live Munich recording claims to differ ‘in many respects’ from Buch’s meticulous critical score (A R Editions, 2007). In practice, this means two chunks of Act 2 are cut drastically, causing the omission of a brief march and Lubano’s final song. Elsewhere, the original 1790 spoken dialogue is modified and abridged (Pearlman cropped dialogue to a minimum but presented all of the music). Lamentably, DHM’s track-list and booklet neglect to indicate the majority of attributions to the different composers; matters are further obfuscated by a careless essay.

Hofkapelle München’s orchestral playing has a few degrees hotter theatrical verve than Boston Baroque’s classy account. Strings and woodwinds contrast adroitly in the Act 1 Overture (Henneberg). Lubano’s shrugging despair at Lubanara’s precociousness is expressed convivially by Jonas Müller; their sparring rustic duet ‘Lallerala lallerala’ (Gerl) depicts Lubano locking Lubanara inside their house so she will not cause any more havoc. What she does instead is summon the evil spirit Eutifronte, who exults charismatically thanks to Martin Summer’s pantomime panache (Gerl: ‘In finstrer Höhlenkluft verschlossen’). Promptly upon Eutifronte giving Lubano a cuckold’s antlers, there is a raucous chorus of hunters in pursuit of what they think is a stag, replete with horns, trumpets and thunderous timpani (Henneberg). Nadir’s ‘Welch fremde Stimme hörte ich?’ (Schack) is sung rapturously by Kai Kluge and features a splendid horn solo part. During the Act 1 finale, aria sections for Astromonte (Henneberg) requiring extraordinary coloratura and dulcet lyricism are navigated serenely by Michael Schade.

Act 2’s tempestuous C minor overture segues into a shipwrecked chorus (Henneberg). When Lubanara is about to tell Lubano about Eutifronte’s treacherous plans, the demon curses her voice to sound like a cat – cue Mozart’s amusing duet ‘Nun liebes Weibchen ziehst mit mir’. It is unexplained why two sopranos, Elena Harsányi and Katja Maderer, are both credited as Lubanara; whichever one pretends to be a cat throughout Act 2, the Munich miaowing is politely subdued. A chorus of infernal spirits and dwarves forging a cursed sword for Nadir to commit unwitting patricide has soaring male voices accompanied by pairs of bassoons, horns, muted trumpets, trombones and the noisy striking of an anvil (Schack). Conductor Rüdiger Lotter invents an extra stanza to double the length of Nadine’s lovely cavatina ‘Mein einziger, liebster Nadir!’ (Schikaneder), rendered poignantly by Leonor Amaral in partnership with melancholy concertante oboe. The eclectic finale to Act 2 hangs together entertainingly. Now that Der Stein der Weisen is served by two alternative high-quality interpretations, hopefully inquisitive artists will tackle Paul Wranitzky’s Oberon, König der Elfen – another magic fairy-tale opera premiered by Schikaneder’s company (November 1789).