SALZBURG, AUSTRIA – “Cosi fan tutte” has been a fixture at the Salzburg Festival since the early 1920s – and Tuesday night saw a crackling performance. This was a production by the husband-and-wife team of Karl-Ernst and Ursel Herrmann, and conducting was Philippe Jordan.

That’s Philippe Jordan, not Armin Jordan. Philippe is son-of. Thus are the Jordans the finest father-son conducting team since the Kleibers (Erich and Carlos).

Young Mr. Jordan made a huge splash in New York last year, and he is still splashing, not yet 30 years old. On Tuesday, he led the Vienna Philhar monic and an excellent cast in a “Cosi” that was vibrantly Mozartean. Mr. Jordan was crisp, correct, and bold, and the Vienna Philharmonic proved that you don’t have to be a period band to play this music with the right texture.

For the most part, Mr. Jordan was brisk in his tempos, although in some of the slower pieces he was altogether too slow – I think particularly of the great tenor aria “Un’aura amorosa,” which was so slow – so Romantic, so indulged – it had no shape. Mozart’s music is spoiled in this way, robbed of its structure, its spine. But this is a fairly minor point: This conductor pleased on almost every page.

Before him were singers as young as he is. Outstanding among them was El- na Garanca, the Latvian mezzo-soprano who made a deep impression last season here in another Mozart opera, “La Clemenza di Tito.” She has the makings of a big star; indeed, on this continent, she is practically that already. She has a dusky mezzo, but one she can brighten. She can give an edge to it,or she can turn it to velvet.She can do virtually anything with it.

Moreover, her technique is rock-solid, and she is a convincing actress – even in a largely silly role like Dorabella. Neither does it hurt that she is model beautiful. In short, she bids fair to join the violinist Gidon Kremer as a Latvian classical-music celebrity.

Her sister/partner, Fiordiligi, was sung by Tamar Iveri, a Georgian soprano. She has an unusual instrument, in that it is dark-inflected, yet light in weight, and lyrical. She’ll be able to do a lot with that voice – in both opera and song. She made a satisfactory Fiordiligi, although she occasionally let her pitch sag, and her show-stopping aria, “Come scoglio,” was rendered line by line, rather than as a musical whole.

The young men? They were Saimir Pirgu, tenor, and Nicola Ulivieri, baritone. The former is an Albanian, leading to a funny situation: In the opera, these men disguise themselves as Albanians – and here we had an authentic Albanian, pretending to be an Albanian! This does not happen in every “Cosi,” I assure you. More important, Mr. Pirgu can sing, boasting a beautiful lyric voice, somewhat reminiscent – if I may reach back – of Tito Schipa. If he keeps that voice in shape, the sky’s the limit for him.

Much the same might be said of Mr. Ulivieri, whose baritone is rich yet focused, and whose technique proved very secure. Some say that if you can sing Mozart, you can sing anything. If this is true, the world is at Mr. Ulivieri’s feet (to continue a theme).

So, these four singers – plus the conductor – constituted a youth movement. But this performance was not without veterans – not at all. We had two of the best, starting with Sir Thomas Allen, the British baritone who has always set a sterling example. This man has ample musical and theatrical wiles, and his renowned instrument is still intact. He was a masterly Don Alfonso, confirming that he is one of the great Mozarteans of our time. It was a delight to see him; one can’t help wondering how many more seasons we have to enjoy him.

And how about Helen Donath? Yes, Helen Donath, still singing after making her debut 40-plus years ago, and singing well. She was the maid, Despina, and although Despina is supposed to be a girl, this veteran – Texasborn, incidentally – inhabited the part.She was a treat to watch, and she handled Mozart’s music with relative ease. There was a certain want of volume when Mrs. Donath was standing at the back of the stage, but this mattered little.

The combination of our youthful quartet and the two sage veterans among them – whose characters, in any case, are wiser than the four – was invigorating.

The production? Well, this is Salzburg. This is Europe. This is 2004. One sort of gives up interpreting what a director means.What was that big egg – or was it a rock – doing onstage, and how about that big feather to the left of the stage, and the little feathers that fluttered down throughout the performance? One should not expend too much energy on this.

The production was minimalistic, with the stage sometimes all but bare. When Don Alfonso spoke of “queste stanze” – “these rooms” – there were no rooms. But one could imagine. Unusually, the continuo player was onstage, and, in a nice, wacky, touch, he had wild, high hair. He became a figure in the opera itself, with El- na Garanyca’s Dorabella, for example, batting that hair with a fan. Later, the harpsichordist donned a pair of sunglasses.

Again, this is par for the Salzburg course. You were lucky there was no open sex (or unlucky?). I should point out, however, that the characters interacted with one another in ways both surprising and functional.This “Cosi”? It was fun, in addition to well sung, well conducted, and well played.

I dare say Mozart himself would have approved – and had a helluva party with the cast, after.