If you are looking for a more or less ideal account of this most elegant of 20th century operas then you will find one here. If not, may I suggest that you ought to be, because otherwise you are missing out sadly.
Stravinsky himself emphasised that an overly literal enactment of this libretto should be avoided, its real point being its moral. It represents his second go at a slightly lightened version of the Faust/Mephistopheles legend, the first having been The Soldier's Tale, so his instruction hardly needed even that much emphasis. Even Berlioz withholds the really frightening character of Mephistopheles until near the end, and Stravinsky and Auden leave Nick Shadow's full unveiling until after he has let Tom Rakewell escape his ensnarement, so that we end up feeling almost sorrier for Nick than for Tom. Tom's story certainly points up the moral that the devil finds work for idle hands, but the poor old junior devil who has failed in his assignment is now going to have to face Our Father Below. It all leaves the production with the issue of how to handle nearly 3 acts before we come to the real point of it all, and my vote goes emphatically to the way Gardiner and his team of celebs go about it.
If the work is new to you, may I earnestly recommend reading the libretto carefully before you play the music. The libretto is by WH Auden and also by Chester Kallman, about whom the liner note is silent although it has a great deal to say about the cordial interaction between the composer and Auden. If you don't think much of the libretto as `writing' or as `literature' neither do I, but that is to miss the point. Great poetry and great writing just do not go very well to music in most cases, and what Auden has done is to turn out a not-overdone pastiche of the 18th century idiom, the sort of thing that the Rev Morell turned out so expertly for several of Handel's oratorios. In fact the best versifying probably comes (intermittently) in the last act when Auden changes from the 18th century manner to the rhyme-scheme of The Ancient Mariner; and I wonder whether this is a deliberate allusion to that great epic of spiritual disgrace and subsequent redemption.
This whole dramatisation of Hogarth is treated by poet and composer as picturesque and stylised, but as no more than a good yarn, building up the evidence until Nick's final judgment until he inexplicably fumbles that and spares our emotions. Bostridge is lightweight, Deborah York as Anne is lightweight, the formidable von Otter who has bowled me over before now in Schumann Respighi and Chaminade goes lightweight as the bearded bride, the other male parts are neither here nor there - they are all lightweight except for Nick, and Bryn Terfel holds everything in reserve until his own final undoing, when we realise what he had led Tom into, only Tom has got off more easily than he might have done. Terfel is simply terrific at this point, and I can only hope that from his own Elysium the composer feels that his exhortation regarding the point of it all has been properly followed. Do you agree with the liner note writer that this opera is dominated by the title role? The view makes no sense to me, and it would have been the wrong sense if it had done. Bostridge is a great artist, and he knows better than to try to make Tom any kind of equal contender with Terfel's Nick.
Auden's book keeps its eye on being what it ought to be, namely a good opera libretto. In my own opinion it is a superb libretto, pacing the action magnificently and delineating the characters with the kind of clarity that fits Stravinsky's musical idiom like a glove. From the conductor's point of view this may make it all as easy and natural as it is made to sound, but I wouldn't put any money on that. This musical direction is the art that conceals art, and in this most Mozartian of modern music dramas that is exactly what we want.
The recording (1997) is absolutely excellent in my own opinion. Joseph Kerman's liner note is bitty and piecey, requiring more concentration from the reader than it rewards. There are resumes of the principal artists, and I can think of no reason why we could not have had similar short sketches of all of them. I love this composer, and I love this opera, and this is my own idea of how to do it. It even ends with a vaudeville in which the singers step out of costume and remind us of the moral of the tale, as in Verdi's Falstaff. I don't really know why Stravinsky was so worried that this might be underplayed, but I like the company he keeps.