Mozart by Daylight

Casual travelers in London's busy Victoria Station saw a strange sight for a bright afternoon: scores of elegant ladies & gentlemen, decked out in full evening dress, were scurrying to catch the 3:45 train for Lewes, Sussex, 51 miles away. Their destination that day last week was the 135-acre, exquisitely landscaped Glyndebourne estate, their objective, the opening of the biggest postwar Glyndebourne Opera season, Britain's unique Mozart festival.

By 5:15, the little 600-seat opera house at Glyndebourne (rhymes with fine horn) was almost filled. Conductor Fritz Busch started the overture, and the curtain went up on the first professional British production of the rarely performed Idomeneo. The opera is based on a Greek legend of the King of Crete who is nearly trapped into sacrificing his son to the sea god Poseidon in exchange for his own safety. Though Idomeneo is unwieldy on the stage, members of the orchestra and cast (representing the U.S., England, Sweden, Austria, Switzerland and Australia) put on a first-rate show, glittering with classic fidelity to Mozart, plus modern ornamentations of ballet and striking scenic effects. Next day, critics echoed the audience's bravos for a valiant try. The Times found the opera "a worthy introduction after a wait of 170 years." Said the News Chronicle: "Unequal though it is ... a most moving experience."

High Aims. The man who had arranged the introduction and done a good deal of the moving was John Christie, 68, owner of the estate and founder of the festival. Christie, a former science master at Eton, inherited his family's fortune ($1,329,000 and 10,000 acres in Sussex and Devonshire) after World War I. Although he plays no instrument himself, Christie is an ardent music lover. In 1931 he married a pretty young singer named Audrey Mildmay, and for her built the perfect miniature opera house on his estate. Christie already had an international festival in mind. Said he: "We will aim for the sky."

The festival opened in 1934, and Christie lost -L-10,000. Undaunted, he kept working, finally broke even in 1936. He closed the opera house in 1940, turned the estate into a wartime evacuation center for London children. After the war, Christie began operation again but taxes drained his bank account, and the going was tough. Aid came this year, when Britain's government-run Arts Council agreed to underwrite any losses in the 1951 program.

Fine Wines. This season, cheery John Christie is breathing easier. His six-week season is fully sold out. Happily he scurries about the staff canteen, clearing tables, offering mild suggestions to artists, and making himself generally useful. Example: guests invited for the final dress rehearsal last week found Christie in the driveway waving cars into parking spaces.

Christie's attitude toward audiences on performance days, however, is stiff and strict: no one may enter the auditorium after the overture has begun; evening dress is a must, however embarrassing to midafternoon commuters. Says he: "I refuse to pamper them." One concession: a 90-minute interval after Act II for dinner in nearby dining halls, where hungry operagoers can order chicken, Scotch salmon or cold lobster, buy choice wines from London caterers.

For Glyndebourne's high repute and current success, Christie has a simple explanation: "All we do here is to set up conditions that are as nearly ideal as we can make them. Then we seek perfection."

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