Saturday, October 28, 2023

Favorites of 2023: Music - Our year of French Baroque opera

Amanda Forsythe (Éolie) and Karina Gauvin (Circé) in Henri Desmarest's Circé, centerpiece opera of the Boston Early Music Festival (seen 11 June 2023). Photo credit: Kathy Wittman. Image source: BEMF.org

It's the time of year when once again I choose my favorite music, books, and films first experienced in the past 12 months. To begin I'm going to review my favorite live, streamed, and recorded musical performances.  

Our year of French Baroque opera

Ordinarily I order my selections chronologically, but in this first installment I'm organizing them thematically as well, because for us this was the year of French Baroque opera.

I have been listening to French Baroque opera for about as long as I've been listening to opera, over three decades. But until this year I'd often felt that I generally preferred Italian opera to the operas of Marc-Antoine Charpentier, Jean-Philippe Rameau, and especially Jean-Baptiste Lully.

Lully, the man who defined French opera in opposition to Italian opera, ironically was himself an Italian. He was born in Florence as Giovanni Battista Lulli in 1631 and did not become a French subject until 1661. His operas, which became the model in France for the next century, are characterized by five-act structure plus an allegorical prologue. Airs are often short and are generally sung without repeats (except perhaps a refrain), and there are extensive passages of recitative (sometimes comprising whole scenes). The chorus, a large group separate from the soloists, has a prominent role, and extensive instrumental or dance sequences are often featured. The distribution of voices includes sopranos, high tenors, and basses, but rarely altos (the range of most castrati, who were not popular in France).

Pygmalion et Galatée by Jean-Léon Gérôme, 1890. Image source: American Bach Soloists

There are, of course, exceptions to this five-act structure, such as Rameau's Pygmalion, a one-act opera composed in 1748. The artist Pygmalion spurns his lover Céphise because he has fallen in love with his own creation, a Statue. L'Amour brings the Statue to life, and she and Pygmalion declare their mutual love. L'Amour consoles Céphise by finding her another lover, and everyone rejoices. This 45-minute work was enchantingly performed by the singers and musicians of American Bach Soloists led by director Jeffrey Thomas (seen 8 May 2023). The excellent soloists were Matthew Hill (Pygmalion), Morgan Balfour (Céphise), Amy Broadbent (La Statue Animée), and Mary Wilson (L'Amour). Coupled with Handel's lovely Italian cantata Apollo e Dafne, featuring Hadleigh Adams (Apollo) and Mary Wilson (Daphne), Pygmalion was the ideal work to inaugurate our season of French Baroque opera.

While in London during late May and early June, if we didn't have a concert or other evening activity planned we tended to stay in. Our thanks to the generous relative who gave us a subscription to the streaming service Medici.tv, which gave us the opportunity to revisit director Jean-Marie Villégier's production of Lully's Atys (1675). Filmed in Paris in 2011 and featuring Les Arts Florissants conducted by William Christie, it's your typical Baroque love quadrangle: the nymph Sangaride (Emmanuelle de Negri) is betrothed to the Phrygian King Celenus (Nicolas Rivenq) in obedience to her father, a river god (Bernard Deletré). However, she secretly loves the youth Atys (Bernard Richter), and he loves her. The goddess Cybèle (Stéphanie d'Oustrac) descends to bless the nuptials of King Celenus and Sangaride, and to declare her love for Atys. Now, if Atys and Sangaride's love is discovered it will offend father, King and goddess. It can't end well. . .

The closing minutes of Act I, the arrival of the goddess Cybèle ("Venez tous dans mon temple"):

https://youtu.be/hmy1PwW1RmU

Villégier's production, with Patrice Cauchetier's black, silver and gold period costumes, stylized gestures, and the Baroque dancers of Compagnie Fêtes galantes, was groundbreaking when it was first introduced in 1987. Decades later it remains extraordinarily handsome, and the cast could not be bettered.

It was excellent preparation for our next live experience of French Baroque opera, the Boston Early Music Festival's production of Henri Desmarest's Circé (1694). The scenic design, costumes and dance were inspired by Baroque models. You can read my full description of this performance in Music in London and Boston, where I wrote that "Circé was a spectacular triumph for the BEMF performers and production team." From the BEMF recording of Circé, the opening aria of Act III, "Désirs, transports, cruelle impatience," sung by Amanda Forsythe (Éolie) [1]:

https://youtu.be/pVdthstyaSk

On our return home, eager to see more, we continued our explorations on Medici.tv. Two productions of Rameau's Hippolyte et Aricie (1733) caught our eye. The first, director Jonathan Kent's 2013 production from Glyndebourne, features William Christie conducting the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment with soloists that include Sarah Connolly as Phèdre and Stéphane Degout as her husband Thesée. Interestingly, they are also the Phèdre and Thesée in director Ivan Alexandre's 2012 production from the Opéra Bastille, featuring Emmanuelle Haïm conducting Le Concert d'Astrée. Both versions are highly recommendable. The Glyndebourne production uses hunting and consumption as governing metaphors (the Prologue, which takes place in a giant refrigerator, is a highlight). Christie's tempi are well-judged, and the soloists and the Glyndebourne Chorus are second to none. The Opéra Bastille production employs Baroque costumes, staging and dancing, and is visually and aurally splendid.

Amazingly, although Rameau was 50 years old at the time of the first performance of Hippolyte et Aricie, it was his first opera. Rameau's fellow composer André Campra famously remarked of Hippolyte that "there is enough music in this opera to make ten of them; this man will eclipse us all." [2] From the Opéra Bastille production, the Deuxième Air des Chasseurs, "A la chasse" ("To the hunt!"; the Huntress is sung by Andrea Hill):

https://youtu.be/-OksrK1ulHg

To close out our French Baroque opera discoveries this year I'll mention two more Lully operas seen on Medici.tv. Lully's Cadmus et Hermione (1673) was his first full-scale success, and determined the form of French opera for the next 100 years. The hero Cadmus is forced to undergo a series of trials to win the hand of Hermione, daughter of Mars and Venus. The 2008 production from the Opéra-Comique is directed by Benjamin Lazar with lavish Baroque costumes, scenery and staging. Musically it is superb, featuring the forces of Le Poème Harmonique conducted by Vincente Dumestre.

The final scene of Act IV, in which Cadmus (André Morsch) is reunited with Hermione (Claire Lefilliâtre) after rescuing her, with Athena's aid, from a giant. "Ah, how sweet is the memory of pain," they sing, "when at last one finds happiness!" But not so fast: a cloud descends from the heavens, and Hermione is abducted:

https://youtu.be/hknfcgh3jL8

Speaking of heros aided by Athena, our final French Baroque opera was Lully's Persée (1682). The hero Persée loves the daughter of King Céphée, Andromède, who is betrothed to her uncle Phinée. Andromède returns the love of Persée, but Mérope, Queen Cassiope's sister, also secretly loves him. Meanwhile the snake-haired monster Méduse is wreaking havoc on the kingdom; anyone who gazes at her is instantly turned to stone. Persée must slay Méduse and rescue Andromède from a sea monster before the couple can be united. But not so fast: the lovelorn Mérope interrupts the wedding ceremony to warn that Phinée and his assassins are about to attack the wedding to kill Persée.

The 2004 production by Toronto's Opera Atelier directed by Marshall Pynkoski features Cyril Auvity as Persée, Marie Lenormand as Andromède, and Monica Whicher as Mérope, with Tafelmusik Chamber Orchestra and Choir conducted by Hervé Niquet. In Act II's "Infortunés, qu'un monstre affreux," Mérope and Andromède meet, and each recognizes the other's love for the hero about risk his life to save the kingdom:

https://youtu.be/OBdcDpd6AIo

The intelligent direction and ravishing visuals of these productions are certainly an important part of their appeal. But what we find most compelling are the emotional dilemmas at their center: the impossible love of Sangaride and Atys, the separations faced by Cadmus and Hermione and Persée and Andromède, and the thwarted passions of Céphise for Pygmalion, Circé for Ulisse, Phèdre for her stepson Hippolyte, and Mérope for Persée. And we find that these dilemmas are heightened, rather than diminished, by the stylizations of Baroque stagings. Enhanced by their spectacular settings and costumes, these stagings also demonstrate the power of emotional restraint and understatement.

Posts in this series:


  1. A minor issue for us, although it may be a sticking point for some: BEMF co-director Stephen Stubbs employs Baroque guitar liberally throughout the Circé recording. Although we don't have an exact list of the instruments in the orchestra of the Académie Royale de Musique, the records we do have mention theorbos (generally plucked) rather than Baroque guitar (generally strummed). See James R. Anthony, French Baroque Music from Beaujoyeulx to Rameau, Revised and expanded edition, Amadeus Press, 1997, p. 123.
  2. Quoted in Anthony, French Baroque Music from Beaujoyeulx to Rameau, p. 162.

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