To provide an initial account of 10 years of musical rediscovery, the Palazzetto Bru Zane is bringing out a boxed set of 10 albums showcasing extracts from some of the works that have been unearthed: a wide spectrum (1780-1920) of music is presented, spanning tragédie lyrique, opera, operetta and café-concert, cantata, sacred music, orchestral music, concertante music, chamber music, piano music and mélodie. This boxed set also includes recordings made in collaboration with labels working in partnership with the Palazzetto Bru Zane since 2009.

The vocation of the Palazzetto Bru Zane - Centre de musique romantique francaise is to favor the rediscovery of the French musical heritage of the years 1780-1920 and obtain international recognition for that repertory. Housed in Venice in a palazzo dating from 1695 specially restored for the purpose, the Palazzetto Bru Zane - Centre de musique romantique francaise is a creation of the Fondation Bru. Combining artistic ambition with high scientific standards, the Centre reflects the humanist spirit that guides the actions of that foundation. The Palazzetto Bru Zane’s main activities, carried out in close collaboration with numerous partners, are research, the publication of books and scores, the production and international distribution of concerts, support for teaching projects and the production of recordings.

REVIEW:

Well worth anyone’s attention, especially those attracted to the less familiar areas of 19th-century repertoire. In fact, I have rarely encountered a ‘compilation’ that has yielded so much listening pleasure...it helps that the standard of performance (and recording) is first-rate throughout. Treat it as an educational indulgence, I say.

-- Gramophone

CONTENTS:

• CD 1: Tragédie lyrique
• CD 2: Opéra
• CD 3: Opérette et Café-Concert
• CD 4: Cantate
• CD 5: Musique sacrée
• CD 6: Musique symphonique
• CD 7: Musique concertante
• CD 8: Musique de chambre
• CD 9: Piano
• CD 10: Mélodie

Formed to promote French Romantic repertoire, Palazzetto Bru Zane is doing sterling work with its Book+CD series. I’m especially enjoying exploring the Opéra français releases and with Les P'tites Michu the series has reached volume 19; a limited edition of 3,000. Incidentally Palazzetto Bru Zane has ceased using Ediciones Singulares as the title of its label which is now called Bru Zane.

Messager was a leading figure in French operetta in the late 1800s and, as a composer of mainly stage works (opéras comiques, opérettes and ballets), is probably best known today for his ballet Les Deux Pigeons. As an admirer of French Romantic music, I am delighted to receive this newly released two CD set of Messager’s Les P'tites Michu (The Little Michus), an operetta I previously knew only by name.

Premièred in November 1897 Les P'tites Michu, an opérette in three acts, quickly became a great success both at home, enjoying one hundred and fifty performances at the Théâtre des Bouffes-Parisiens, and abroad notably being staged in London and on Broadway. Les P'tites Michu had been written in the wake of several embarrassing failures for Messager, particularly his humiliation with Le chevalier d'Harmental at the Opéra-Comique in 1896, where it was pulled after only six performances. As providence would have it, whilst in England Messager received an unsolicited libretto through the post for the opérette Les P'tites Michu sent by renowned librettists Albert Vanloo and Georges Duval. Messager didn’t know that the libretto had already been rejected by three composers, but clearly fully motivated, he completed the score in just three months. The plot briefly concerns the identities of two little girls, one the daughter of Marquis des Ifs and the other a daughter of Michu who runs a cheese shop. Whilst in his care, Michu mixes up the two girls whilst giving them a bath. Years later, on Blanche-Marie’s wedding day, the Marquis notices her resemblance to his late wife and realises that she must be his daughter.

This recording is taken from live performances at Théâtre Graslin, Nantes with stage direction by Rémy Barché. A fine French cast has been assembled, bringing this sun-drenched comedy to life with singing that sparkles from start to finish. My highlight is from Act Two with soprano Anne-Aurore Cochet and mezzo Violette Polchi singing Blanche-Marie’s and Marie-Blanche’s quite delightful duet Ah! Quel malheur, quel malheur (Oh, what a misfortune). From Act One, in the role of shop assistant Aristide, tenor Artavazd Sargsyan copes well with the couplets Blanche-Marie est douce et bonne (Blanche-Marie is gentle and kind). I notice André Noël (1892-1967) a tenor at the Opéra-Comique made a fascinating early recording of this piece on a collection of his operetta arias for Pathé (N° X. 90019 - N 203201 Choudens) which can be viewed on YouTube. Excelling here in the Act Three Romance a dreamy waltz Vois-tu, je m'en veux à moi-même (You see, I blame myself), Anne-Aurore Cochet is in charming voice as she laments her dreary existence and misses her boarding school. Susan Graham on her 2002 Erato album ‘French Operetta Arias’ has championed Blanche-Marie’s Romance which is a real gem. It’s also contained in her 2010 box set ‘The Art of Susan Graham’ (review). Additionally from act three is Blanche-Marie and Gaston’s attractive duet Rassurez-vous monsieur Gaston (Don’t worry, monsieur Gaston) as they capture the innocence of concealing their sorrow from each other. As the hearty army captain, the smoky tones of Philippe Estèphe contrast well with the Anne-Aurore Cochet’s girlish innocence. Directed by choir-master Xavier Ribes, the Chœur d'Angers Nantes Opéra is in fine order, singing with assurance and unity which are especially noticeable in the splendid Halles ensemble Marchandes et Marchands from Act Three. Under the baton of Pierre Dumoussaud, the Orchestre national des Pays de la Loire (using some forty-five players) performs with verve and sparkle.

Sumptuously presented, the two CDs fit inside a 176-page hard-back book which includes essays, a synopsis and French texts together with an English translation placed alongside. A slight grumble concerns the article ‘P'tites Michu, number by number’ where the pieces discussed are not linked to track numbers. Recorded live in May 2018 at Théâtre Graslin, Nantes, the overall sound has a satisfying quality and is well balanced. Not surprisingly, the recording has some minor stage noise and applause has been retained at the conclusion.

Bru Zane’s Opéra français series continues to captivate and with Messager’s opérette Les P'tites Michu grandly maintains its high standards.

– MusicWeb International (Michael Cookson)

According to Berlioz, Spontini was – after Gluck – the greatest genius of French music to pave the way for the Romantic era. And it may well be that the little-known Olympie, premiered in 1819 and subsequently revived in 1826 under the modified title Olimpie, had a greater influence than we have hitherto imagined on the massive upheaval that was to set French opera on the path of the modern ‘grand opéra’. From start to finish, this finely polished score, with its astonishing orchestration, is full of spectacular effects that clearly look forward to Les Troyens of Berlioz. The omnipresence of a huge chorus, the valiant vocal writing for Antigonus, the pathos of the role of Statira (conceived for Caroline Branchu, then at the peak of her career): all the ingredients were there to make a powerful impact on listeners such as Berlioz, who was moved to tears. Here, undoubtedly, is one of the first epic canvases of the nineteenth century.

Offenbach’s La Périchole (1868) will never cease to delight music lovers of all persuasions. Marc Minkowski – long one of the composer’s prophets – was keen to pay tribute to him with this world premiere recording on period instruments, in the company of the young school of French singers, including the bewitching Aude Extrémo, the dashing Stanislas de Barbeyrac and the hilarious Alexandre Duhamel. Combining fashionable rhythms with the most unexpected touches of folklore, the score is a veritable flood of hit numbers. How can one not be swept away by the insolence of the Seguidilla, the frenzy of the Bolero or the furious rhythm of the Prison Trio? Never before, perhaps, had Offenbach gone so far in caricaturing political leaders – nor used drunkenness to resolve the imbroglio of inextricable sentimental relationships. And indeed, the ‘Tipsy Arietta’ is one of the composer's best-known numbers. Cheers!

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REVIEW:

Bru Zane continues its French Opera series with Offenbach’s La Périchole, an opéra bouffe in three acts.

Offenbach enjoyed great success in 1867; he had productions showing at four Parisian theatres the year before completing La Périchole. Yet in May 1868 the tide was turning. Le château à Toto was unsuccessful, and a revival of Le pont des soupirs failed to inspire. Later in the year came the premières of opéra bouffes L'île de Tulipatan and La Périchole, neither of which kept a hold on the repertory. In 1874, for the revival of La Périchole, Offenbach revised the score considerably: three acts instead the original two acts. It was in this revised form that La Périchole has found favour with audiences.

In La Périchole there are the usual antics so typical of an opéra bouffe, including disguise, mix-ups, mistaken identity and comic twists. La Périchole and her lover Piquillo are a pair of Peruvian street singers who cannot afford a marriage license. Don Andrès de Ribeira, a lecherous Viceroy of Peru, wants La Périchole as his mistress, and makes her his lady-in-waiting. Piquillo, also employed in the Viceroy’s household, marries the veiled La Périchole without knowing it is she. Piquillo gets thrown into prison but the end results in an unexpected pardon from the Viceroy; the lovers are reunited.

Music director Marc Minkowski has conducted both versions of La Périchole. For the Opéra National de Bordeaux production recorded here, he has assembled a mixed version based on the original 1868 score and parts of the 1874 revision. This release was recorded at live performances of stage director Romain Gilbert’s production. Minkowski conducted Les Musiciens du Louvre who are thirty-six strong and use period instruments. Although it surely applies to all audio recordings of live performances to a lesser or greater degree, having seen a brief clip of the show I think the dramatic impact of La Périchole is especially diminished by not seeing the actual performance. Nevertheless, there is still much pleasure to be gained from this recording. The three principal characters – La Périchole, Piquillo and Don Andrès – are very well cast, with French-language singers.

Tenor Stanislas de Barbeyrac throws himself wholeheartedly into the role of Piquillo. A highlight is the brief Rondo de bravoure - Écoute, ô roi, je te présente, where Piquillo presents La Périchole to Don Andrès. This splendid example of Barbeyrac’s theatricalit, demonstrates his vocal clarity and projection, his high notes achieved comfortably. As femme fatale La Périchole, the rich-toned mezzo-soprano of Aude Extrémo projects well, with a first-class level of expression – although her voice does not always have the smoothest delivery. La Périchole’s renowned ‘Tipsy’ arietta - Ah! quel dîner je viens de faire!’ is a success. I wish I could have seen it. Best of all is her ‘Letter’ arioso to Piquillo - Ô mon cher amant, je te jur. The mezzo tenderly reflects how it would be better to separate owing to their poverty and list of misfortunes. It is hard to forget the distinction of Régine Crespin’s rendition of the ‘Letter’ arioso on her 1971 release ‘Prima Donna in Paris’ on Decca.

Alexandre Duhamel as Viceroy Don Andrès gives a creditable performance although it is more of an acting role. Note the ‘Incognito’ song with chorus Sans en rien souffler à personne where Viceroy goes out on the town in disguise. Duhamel is in secure voice, with impressive diction and strong expression. Of the hit numbers, one notes La Périchole and Piquillo’s Le conquérant dit à la jeune Indienne, a foot-tapping ballad with its extremely catchy tune. For the same reasons, I also relish the couple’s rendition of the celebrated Séguedille - Vous a-t-on dit souvent. Minkowski favours swift speeds. He draws a strong and expressive performance from Les Musiciens du Louvre. On occasions, within all the spirited playing there is some slight untidness but nothing too distracting. The Chœur de L’Opéra National de Bordeaux is hard to fault. They give a strong performance throughout under chorus master Alphonse Cemin.

The sound has clarity, and is well balanced. Not surprisingly, there is some miscellaneous stage noise, and applause after some arias and at the end of each act, but it is not a problem. It serves to add to the live atmosphere.

As we have come to expect from this Bru Zane French Opera series, there is a 168-page hardback book with a full French libretto and an English translation. Four informative and well written essays are also included, as is a synopsis and full cast and track listing. My only grumble is wanting the track listing to contain the page number of its place in the libretto.

There are several studio recordings of La Périchole in the catalogue. My first choice remains the 1977 Strasbourg recording on Erato, featuring Régine Crespin, Alain Vanzo and Jules Bastin, conducted by Alain Lombard. Originally, I had the Erato release on vinyl. It is worth knowing that the performance has no spoken dialogue. I find this Minkowski recording of La Périchole tremendously entertaining from start to finish, and I wish I had been in the Bordeaux audience. A fitting tribute in Offenbach’s 200th anniversary year.

– MusicWeb International (Michael Cookson)

Largely forgotten today, the composer Charles Silver was one of the most promising students of Jules Massenet, whose elegant style and effective dramatic gestures he fully mastered. His opera La Belle au bois dormant (Sleeping Beauty), based on Perrault's tale, testifies to these skills with it's colourful, lively and surprisingly modern music: the influence of Puccini is evident. The libretto enriches the original story with delightful comic touches from the characters of Jacotte and Barnabe, who provide a light-hearted counterpoint to the fairytale plot. Although it enjoyed a successful first run in Marseille in 1902, the opera unfortunately never received a Parisian premiere, which hindered it's wider dissemination despite an acclaimed revival at the The�tre de la Monnaie in Brussels. Accessible, refined and treating a universal theme, this score deserves a second chance that just might - who knows? - earn it a place on the international operatic stage.

Shortlisted for the Gramophone Awards!

Normandy in the Années Folles. Romantic encounters, changes of identity and unexpected comic twists: in Passionnément, André Messager places himself at the intersection of café-concert, American popular music and French operetta. The score is swept along with great spirit by Véronique Gens, Étienne Dupuis, Nicole Car and a team of enthusiastic soloists accompanied by the Münchner Rundfunkorchester under Stefan Blunier. As witty as Messager’s music, the libretto, with its flavor of boulevard theatre, offers a genuine manifesto of the French spirit in the years after the First World War.

REVIEW:

Heading the cast is the distinguished soprano Véronique Gens in the role of Ketty, an American, former music-hall star. Gens sings beautifully, displaying her artistry and providing the subtleties to capture each mood. Undoubtedly the best-known aria from Passionnément is the act two waltz-song where Robert is missing being with Ketty (Margaret) and is anxious that his love for her should be reciprocated. Clearly savouring the celebrated waltz-song, Dupuis sings with warmth, successfully creating an entirely captivating mood.

This revival of Passionnément was recorded live during concert performances in 2020 at the Prinzregententheater, Munich and broadcast live. From what I understand to be a tricky live acoustic, the sound engineers have achieved successful results. As usual, the book is a bilingual edition (English and French) and it's hard to find fault with such detailed and extensive notes. Included is the complete libretto both sung and spoken, a synopsis and five interesting and helpful booklet essays. Bringing its 'French opera' series up to volume 28, Bru Zane's release of Messager's feelgood musical comedy Passionnément receives my wholehearted endorsement.

– MusicWeb International

La Fille de Madame Angot, an opéra-comique in three acts, was premiered at the Théâtre des Fantaisies-Parisiennes in Brussels on 4 December 1872 before scoring a similar triumph in France on 21 February 1873. In the Paris of the Directory period, Clairette Angot, an orphan raised by the people of Les Halles market, falls in love with the songwriter Ange Pitou. But, after many amorous and political plot twists, she resigns herself to marrying the wigmaker Pomponnet. Lecocq’s score, with its succession of hit numbers, created such enthusiasm that it enjoyed a run of more than four hundred performances at the Folies-Dramatiques, before conquering the French provinces and then the whole world in various translations. The work is still a relatively popular staple of the light operatic repertory even today. The Palazzetto Bru Zane here presents the first recording of the original version, with its unusual orchestration and several numbers that have fallen into oblivion.

REVIEWS:

La Fille de Mme Angot is a delightful show; and this new recording, which includes some changes from other recordings, is outstanding. It has been recorded before, but the earlier recordings were edited or shortened. Bru Zane’s new recording is the first of the original 1872 Brussels version using the operetta’s original orchestrations and contents.

The libretto (by Charles Clairville, Paul Siraudin, and Victor Konig) is set in the regime of post-revolutionary France, in the period before Napoleon and after Danton and Robespierre. Those intervening years were nostalgic for the 1872 audience, and the action was far enough in the past for a comic operetta. There are some allusions to this political tension when some of the characters support opposing sides. This is all lightened by LeCocq’s ingratiating score, and the proceedings are kept buoyant. The operetta was extremely popular and had almost 1000 performances in Brussels and Paris in its initial runs. Eventually it proved to be the most popular operetta of late-19th Century French theatre.

The new recording is simply delightful, the singing and playing effervescent. The cast is exceptional. Standouts include Veronique Gens as Mlle Lange and Anne-Catherine Gillet as Clairette. These ladies carry the show and their acting and singing is first-rate. The men are just as fine, with Mathias Vidal’s ripe tenor as the fickle Pitou, Artavazd Sargsyan as the fussy Pomponnet, and Matthieu Lecroart as the deceived Larivaudiere. Conductor Rouland leads the spritely orchestra, and the chorus is lively.

Bru Zane’s luxurious bound-in book includes a complete French and English libretto, track listings, notes, photos, drawings, and commentary. I would suggest purchasing this outstanding recording as soon as possible. My review copy is number 2426 of a limited edition of 4500.

-- American Record Guide

That globetrotting composer Camille Saint-Saëns wrote La Princesse jaune in 1872, exemplifying the current craze for all things Japanese. Kornélis, played by the tenor Mathias Vidal, dreams only of the Land of the Rising Sun. Under the influence of a hallucinogenic potion, he becomes infatuated with Ming, a fantasy princess. His cousin Léna – the soprano Judith van Wanroij – despairs of this passion and does not dare to confess her own feelings to Kornélis, who eventually comes to his senses. The running time of this opera enables us to offer a coupling in the shape of a previously unrecorded version of Saint-Saëns’s six Mélodies persanes, thus extending the guiding thread of a yearning for exotic horizons in another direction. Leo Hussain conducts the Orchestre National du Capitole de Toulouse in both works.

REVIEW:

With La Princesse jaune, Saint-Saëns, his librettist Gallet and the co-directors of the Opéra-Comique, who commissioned the opera, were attempting to take advantage of the Parisian vogue for the Orient, in particular Japan and its art and culture (the craze was known as japonisme). Gallet made a rather unlikely choice: he placed the Japanese-themed story in a Dutch town, in a room converted to an artists’ studio. There are just two characters. An overture is followed by arias and duets, all interspersed with spoken dialogue. Spoken word may be off-putting but the little there is – a few minutes all in all – integrates seamlessly with the sung text.

The story concerns Kornélis, a Dutch doctor fascinated with Japanese culture. His young cousin Léna is in love with him. Under the effects of a hallucinogenic drug, the fixated Kornélis falls in love with the subject of a portrait, a Japanese princess named Ming. His perception of reality is profoundly distorted. He believes Léna is Ming inhabiting a fairy-tale land. The potion wears off and Kornélis returns to reality. He yields to the charms of the despairing Léna and takes her in his arms.

Kornélis is sung by lyric tenor Mathias Vidal, who specialises in French and Italian roles. He clearly relishes this repertoire, and is well suited to Kornélis’s arias. He puts his sonorous tone to splendid use, with fine diction, projection and vitality. In the air J’aime, dans son lointain mystère (I love, in its different mystery) with its gently rocking accompaniment, Vidal increases the atmospheric mood as he extols to Léna the glories of Japan, a paradise he dreams of. Another highlight is the solo described as Kornélis’s vision: he drinks the potion and gazes at the portrait of Ming, imploring the image to come to life. At this key moment, Vidal provides all the necessary tenderness and a heartfelt sincerity.

Dutch soprano Judith van Wanroij is a convincing Léna. I have encountered her previously in mainly French Baroque opera including Lemoyne’s Phèdre on Bru Zane (review). She sings with plenty of character the air Outsou Sémisi Kamini when Léna finds a poem that Kornélis wrote to Ming. In her high range, Wanroij’s tone hardens slightly; I generally prefer a warmer soprano tone. In the second air Je faisais un rêve insensé (I was dreaming a foolish dream), there is suitable emotion and a pleasing honesty as Léna realises that Kornélis has fallen in love with a portrait.

Another highlight is the delightful and affecting duet Ah! Quel nuage d’or s’ouvre (Ah! what a golden cloud). Drugged, Kornélis believes that Léna is Ming who has come to life, and expresses his love. An unnamed women’s vocal ensemble adds to the mood: they sing a short passage in Japanese, just once.

The narrator is the soprano, and a French native speaker, Anaïs Constans. (Spoken word has been omitted in the Chandos recording of La Princesse jaune from 1996 at Lugano with soloists Carlo Allemano and Maria Costanza Nocentini and the Orchestra della Svizzera italiana under Francis Travis – review.)

A yearning for oriental and exotic vistas continues in Saint-Saëns’s six Mélodies persanes (Persian Melodies). Late 19th-century Parnassian poet Armand Renaud was attracted to Persian and Japanese verse. His collection of poems Les Nuits persanes (Persian Nights) was published in 1870. It is easy to imagine how Renaud’s verse would have inspired Saint-Saëns; that same year he set six of the poems for voice and piano. In 1891 he orchestrated Mélodies persanes for solo voices, chorus and orchestra. He also took the opportunity to ‘reorganise’ them into a Symphonic Ode or Cantata with the title Nuits persane by connecting the orchestral songs with “orchestral preludes and transitions and added a spoken narration with passages of melodrama”.

Bru Zane presents a new version, which strips away the choral contribution but adds an orchestral prelude and interlude taken from Nuits persane. It has been decided here to allocate a different soloist to each mélodie. I definitely respond to the exotic tone-pictures in this new guise. I savour Renaud’s imaginative if flowery text and the composer’s glorious setting. A stand-out: La Brise (The Breeze) sung by Philippe Estèphe in a hearty, rich-toned baritone; one relishes the exotic rhythms as the girl gives the sultan a special dance watched by the eunuch. Another highlight: the exquisitely beautiful Au cimetière (In the graveyard) sung by Anaïs Constans; she demonstrates her accomplished high register and produces a meaningful expression as the protagonist sitting at the warrior’s grave.

Leo Hussain conducts the Orchestre national du Capitole de Toulouse. They play impressively, with a fine balance between accuracy and expression. There also are a number of outstanding solo contributions. As shown on a promo video clip, the studio sessions at the Halle aux Grains in Toulouse were made under Covid-19 protocols: face masks when appropriate, social distancing and so on. No problems whatsoever with the satisfying recorded studio sound. As one has come to expect from the Bru Zane Opéra français series, the presentation of this CD-book maintains the label’s highest standards. The hardback book in French and English contains the full opera libretto, synopsis and four valuable essays, plus the texts of the Mélodies persanes.

I had been unsure of Louis Gallet’s libretto with just two characters. Yet La Princesse jaune has far exceeded my expectations. In a performance as notable as this, Saint-Saëns’s short opéra-comique is highly recommended, and the glorious Mélodies persanes are a bonus.

-- MusicWeb International

How about a trip back to the Annees Folles in the company of Sacha Guitry? With this musical comedy composed by Reynaldo Hahn, which was a triumph for Arletty, the Palazzetto Bru Zane reveals the hectic adventures of the hatter Prosper Aubertin. He dreams of extramarital adventures, but among the replies to the classified ad he places, how surprised he is to discover letters from his wife, his daughter and his maid! The piece was Guitry’s second collaboration with Hahn. ‘What [else] do you need to be happy?’ as the chambermaid asks in Act Three? Veronique Gens bubbling with mischief, and the Orchestre National d’Avignon dynamised by the conducting of Samuel Jean.

If Massenet is best-known as the champion of French opera, his contribution to the genre of the m�lodie merits reassessment - as is demonstrated by this programme of exquisitely orchestrated songs, all of which have remained in manuscript form. The Expressions lyriques form the pinnacle of these experiments, blending speech and song. The cycle Chansons des bois d'Amaranthe is also notable for the originality of it's scoring: a quartet of singers in dialogue with an orchestra animated by a voluble piano part.

'The subject of Mazeppa has inspired Mme Cl�mence de Grandval to write a truly remarkable score, the success of which will cause a stir in the musical world.' It was with these flattering words that the press greeted the premiere of the five-act opera by one of the women composers most frequently performed in late nineteenth-century France. For her career was regularly marked by flattering reviews and lasting successes, spanning all genres, from chamber music to oratorio and opera. Yet Mazeppa, though regarded as her testamentary work, did not enjoy the honour of a premiere at the Paris Op�ra and had to fall back on Bordeaux to reap the rewards of glory. A model of concision, this powerful, dramatic opera relates in a little over two hours the apotheosis and fall of the Cossack general Ivan Mazeppa, a fugitive in war-torn Ukraine. It was predicted that the work would enjoy a long career, but the subsequent evolution of the musical language of the Belle �poque, followed by the composer's death, meant that Mazeppa sank into oblivion for more than a century. It was high time for it's hero to get back in the saddle.

'No!' exclaims Nunciata, the stubborn Corsican grandmother, when she is begged to put an end to the vendetta between her family, the Fabiani, and their enemies, the Pietra Nera clan. Set against a backdrop of tragic deaths, voracious lust for vengeance and passionate love at the height of the Napoleonic Wars, this 'lyric drama' composed by Saint-Saens in 1906 was premiered at the Opera de Monte-Carlo and dedicated to Prince Albert I, who had commissioned it. Saint-Saens demonstrates here the full range of his style, interweaving Debussyan chords, melodic lines a la Massenet and aggressive rhythms worthy of Prokofiev. Above all, he displays a feel for the theatre eminently characteristic of French opera, and one can only imagine how successful this score would be if it found it's way back onto the stage. It was not without reason that after it's triumphant premiere in Monte Carlo, L'Ancetre was staged in several cities in France, Belgium, Switzerland and Germany, as well as Algiers (February 1911) and Cairo (February 1912), before two further performances in March 1915 in the theatre where it had come into existence.

Premiered at the Opera-Comique in Paris on 26 January 1857, Ambroise Thomas's Psyche tells the story of the ill-starred love between Eros and Psyche, who are manipulated by the cynical Mercury and envied by Daphne and Berenice, the heroine's own sisters. The style of the work represents the nec plus ultra of mid-nineteenth-century French opera-comique, notably in the Italianate influence of Rossini, which gives the singers of the two leading roles - one of which, Eros, is a breeches part for mezzo-soprano - a chance to glitter amid torrents of coloratura poured forth in impressive, passionate love duets. The librettists Jules Barbier and Michel Carre achieved an inspired blend of comedy and tragedy by contrasting a quartet of cruel and grotesque characters (Psyche's sisters and their suitors) with the noble hero and heroine. Ambroise Thomas's music does not merely foreshadow the future triumphs of Mignon and Hamlet: it is worthy to stand beside them at the pinnacle of his operatic legacy, as his obituarists declared. This recording confirms their judgment.

Paris discovered Massenet's Griselidis at the Opera-Comique on 20 November 1901. The work is based on a medieval folktale retold by Boccaccio and Perrault, among others, and already set to music several times in the Baroque era. It gave Massenet the opportunity to handle the 'Gothic' colouring of which the early twentieth century could not get enough. The inventive libretto by Armand Silvestre and Eugene Morand explores unusually contrasted registers: the religious, the fantastical, the sentimental and the warlike. Above all, the presence of a scene-stealing Devil, saddled with a cantankerous wife, offers the possibility of contrasting the serious (or sublime) and the comic (or grotesque). Massenet thus produced a rare example of cross-genre equilibrium, a jewel of French demi-caractere, typical of the Opera-Comique repertory. Although the opera renounces spoken dialogue, theatrical declamation nevertheless creeps into a few particularly successful scenes. Two magnificent baritone roles - the Marquis and the Devil - oppose each other with the full trappings of Romantic vocality, while Griselidis makes a noble and introspective heroine, the perfect model of the French soprano.

No, Georges Bizet was not only the composer of Carmen, the French opera most frequently performed around the world. In a career spanning less than twenty years, he produced works in every genre: orchestral music, piano pieces, cantatas, operas, songs and more besides. He showed an early mastery of orchestration, and was soon able to give free rein to his taste for orientalism and folklore. This portrait offers a chance to discover works that were never performed during his lifetime, indeed some which had to wait until 2024 for their premiere. Of particular note is the 'ode-symphony' Vasco de Gama, which illustrates the Romantic taste for vast historical epics, and Le Retour de Virginie, a cantata for the Prix de Rome presented by the composer to his teacher in 1855. Piano music and melodies remind us that Bizet was also a sought-after salon composer, whose talent posterity has consecrated in songs like La Coccinelle and Les Adieux de l'h�tesse arabe.

In the kingdom of Cornouaille on the Breton coast, the war between Prince Karnac and the inhabitants of the town of Ys is finally coming to an end. The condition of the peace treaty is that Karnac will marry Princess Margared. But her love for Mylio, who is betrothed to her sister Rozenn, will provoke a terrible tidal wave fomented by her thirst for revenge. Edouard Lalo found an inspiring libretto here, which he handled with a sense of theatrical urgency rarely achieved. The characters live out their passions, supported by vehement, colourful orchestration. The role of Margared, in particular, deserves to be numbered among the most successful in French Romantic opera. First performed in Paris in 1888, the work scored a triumph that was repeated at every revival in the provinces and abroad. Though barely two hours long, it teems with dramatic situations: Breton festivals, the supernatural appearance of Saint Corentin, a wedding accompanied by the organ, a tidal wave whose tumultuous billows are rendered to great effect. Le Roi d'Ys amply merited an ambitious staging at the Paris Opera, which it was unfortunately denied in Lalo's lifetime.

It was around 1825 that Louise Bertin, pupil of Reicha and friend of Berlioz, tackled the subject of Faust with all the energy and confidence of a young woman of twenty. She entirely exceeded the public’s expectations and won over the critics with her daring. Colourful orchestration, charming cantabiles, vigorous choruses – everything seemed to promise the work would enter the repertory. But the closure of the Théâtre-Italien after just three performances in 1831 decided otherwise, and the score languished in the vaults of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France for 190 years. The leading role, conceived for the mezzo-soprano Rosmunda Pisaroni, was finally created by the tenor Domenico Donzelli. In this complete recording with period instruments, Christophe Rousset presents the work in its original form, which has never been heard before, even in the composer's lifetime. Once again, Les Talens Lyriques and the Palazzetto Bru Zane join forces in an adventurous French operatic rediscovery.

REVIEW:

Limelight Magazine Recording of the Month, May 2024

“Mademoiselle Louise Bertin, the daughter of the proprietor of the Journal des Débats, and sister of its chief editor, has been remarkably successful, both in literature and music. She is one of the ablest women of our time. Her musical talent, to my mind, is rather rational than emotional; but it is a real talent notwithstanding.” That’s Berlioz in his Mémoires, responding to criticisms of his boss’ daughter’s fourth and final opera La Esmeralda (based on Notre Dame de Paris; Bertin was the only composer with whom Victor Hugo ever collaborated).

As Berlioz makes clear, she had to struggle with not just the usual prejudice against a female composer but with those who wanted to knock her powerful family connections. The result: in 1836 she abandoned opera for good. It’s often been assumed that Berlioz was being paid to be kind, but with Fausto, the latest release from Palazetto Bru Zane, we have ample proof that Bertin was a force to be reckoned with.

She was just 20, when in 1825 she began working up Goethe’s masterwork into an Italian opera semiseria. Fausto, to her own libretto, was meant to premiere in 1830, but unforeseen complications meant it didn’t reach the stage until 1831. Bad notices and the closure of the Théâtre-Italien condemned it to just three performances. Intriguingly, the title role was conceived for the mezzo-soprano Rosmunda Pisaroni but ended up being sung by the tenor Domenico Donzelli. In this recording, with period instruments, Christophe Rousset and Les Talens Lyriques present the work in its original form, and it’s an absolute cracker. Despite its Italian title, Fausto is more Weber than Rossini, although there are clear bel canto elements here and there. The orchestrations are highly original for its day – snipers in 1836 accused Berlioz of having written parts of La Esmerelda – and the dramatic effects are bold, sometimes startlingly so. Listen to the percussive wallop which kicks off the lengthy overture. Or the striking Gothic excesses as Fausto seals the pact with Mefistofele. There’s no shortage of good tunes either, with Margarita in particular getting some real charmers.

Dramaturgically, there are one or two missteps – Margarita asking the elderly Fausto to heal Catarina delays the devil’s arrival, and the final trio peters out (one suspects that Bertin might have fixed that if she’d ever had the chance). Otherwise, a good stage director could do something with the opera, not to mention singers with three meaty parts on offer.

The cast here is outstanding. French mezzo-soprano Karine Deshayes hurls herself fearlessly at Fausto’s challenging lines (the role is often high). The voice is bright and flexible, and she conveys the doctor’s mixture of ardent determination, despair and desperation. Canadian soprano Karina Gauvin may not sound the innocent victim, but her Margarita is beautifully sung and full of fire. The voice is luscious with first-rate diction. Croatian bass Ante Jerkunica is a sonorous Mefistofele with plenty of personality (though the role could use an aria or two). Nico Darmanin displays a bright, thrilling tenor as Margarita’s brother Valentino (his military aria, drums and horns popping, is a bel canto bombshell), and Marie Gautrot is ripe and characterful as the elderly Catarina. Best of all is Rousset who delivers a high-octane account of this remarkably original score. Not only does he bring it to life with judicious pacing and a winning flexibility, he draws out the unique textures of Bertin’s orchestrations with a sensitive ear for colour.

Les Talens Lyriques play like demons. Period strings are full of bite, while the individual timbres of wind, brass and percussion combine to create delicate and dramatic textures. Beautiful recording in vivid, in your face sound, and smartly documented, Fausto is more than just an intriguing rediscovery. It makes you long to hear La Esmerelda, by all accounts a more mature work and with a Victor Hugo libretto no less.

-- Limelight (Clive Paget)

Massenet's Werther is one of those masterpieces that were rejected or shunned at the time of their creation. Sketched in the 1880s, the score was turned down by the director of the Opera-Comique and had to make do with a premiere in German, far from Paris, before finally being heard in Paris in 1893. It gradually established itself as one of the composer's most personal works, in which he showed himself to be as fine a colourist as he was a master of the art of the 'motif de rappel'. In adapting Goethe's novel, Massenet and his librettists gave greater prominence to the character of Charlotte, thus placing the struggle between duty and passion at the centre of the narrative. The role of Werther, originally assigned to a tenor, was also sung by the baritone Mattia Battistini with the composer's approval. Provided the singer makes skilful use of voix mixte, this version gives the work a melancholy colouring ideal for portraying it's hero's suicidal temperament. Tassis Christoyannis follows this approach in exemplary fashion, opposite the reserved yet moving Charlotte of Veronique Gens. Both singers give the text the preponderant role allotted to it by French operatic tradition.

‘It would be difficult to find a simpler and more poignant subject’, Massenet remarked during the composition of Ariane, a vast score in five acts premiered at the Paris Opéra in October 1906. The libretto by Catulle Mendès is part ancient drama, part symbolist poem, and sets Phaedra and Ariadne, two sisters in love with Theseus, in violent conflict with each other. This epic work does not shrink from relating the combat against the Minotaur, from showing a ship tossed by the raging billows, nor even from transporting the audience to the Underworld where Persephone reigns. Despite its flamboyant orchestration, its grandiose scenography and its triumphant premiere, Ariane remains one of the few Massenet operas never recorded until now. The young Egyptian soprano Amina Edris takes the title role with ardour and passion, surrounded by a cast well versed in the specificities of the French style. The Bavarian Radio Chorus provides dedicated support in the epic scenes, under the baton of Laurent Campellone, a great champion of Massenet.

Many Romantic composers owe their fame to one of their symphonic poems. Alongside acknowledged French masterpieces in the genre, the fifteen tracks presented here include four previously unrecorded works and several rarities by women composers. The Orchestre National de Lyon, a great champion of French Romantic music, offers a palette of shimmering colours under the baton of Nikolaj Szeps-Znaider as it relates in music the legend of Merlin the Magician, the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty and the misadventures of the Sorcerer’s Apprentice.

Women composers had great difficulty in making their voices heard and gaining recognition during their lifetimes. Even today, they are all too rarely heard in the concert hall or the opera house. That situation obviously cries out for a change in attitude, but then come the questions: all right, let’s programme women composers, but which ones, and which of their works? In this eight-CD set featuring several hundred performers, the Palazzetto Bru Zane offers its initial answer as far as nineteenth-century France is concerned. The selections range over chamber music, orchestral works, piano pieces and songs. They highlight twenty-one female creators, from already identified personalities like Hélène de Montgeroult, Louise Farrenc, Pauline Viardot, Marie Jaëll and Mel Bonis to such completely unknown figures as Charlotte Sohy, Madeleine Jaeger, Marthe Grumbach, Jeanne Danglas, Hedwige Chrétien and Madeleine Lemariey. From now on, there will be no excuse for ignoring Romantic women composers.

The injustices of history are made to be redressed. Here a cast of international singers, under the dynamic direction of Gergely Madaras, devotes itself with conviction to the task of reviving one of the forgotten glories of French Romantic opera. Hulda, completed in 1885, was never staged in César Franck’s lifetime. This gory medieval legend recounts the multiple acts of vengeance its heroine inflicts on the Aslak clan, which slaughtered her family, and on her unfaithful lover Eiolf. The ferocious performance of American soprano Jennifer Holloway in the title role is matched by the sinister presentiments of her French colleague Véronique Gens and the tender outbursts of Dutch soprano Judith van Wanroij. Although the imaginary Norwegian setting brings Wagner to mind, Franck continues the tradition of French grand-opéra while adopting the contemporary Verdian idiom. The intensity of the action is reflected in harmonic and instrumental experiments that place Franck in the forefront of the modernists of his time. The inventiveness of the ballet is matched only by the splendour of the choral writing. How could such a masterpiece have languished in oblivion for so long? Quite simply, because it was deliberately buried by Franck's pupils, who preferred to keep for themselves the glory of personifying the French operatic revival.

Guilty of allowing the sacred fire to go out while declaring her love to the general Licinius, the Vestal Virgin Julia is sentenced to be buried alive. But her execution is averted by a divine intervention, which rekindles the altar flame and absolves the victim. The simple plot of Gaspare Spontini’s La Vestale achieved resounding success in 1807 thanks to the highly skilled treatment of the characters’ psychology and the transparency of the political allusions – Licinius is an allegory of Napoleon Bonaparte himself. Yet the work is more than a mere piece of propaganda: it represents one of the links between the tragédie lyrique of the Ancien Régime and the future grand opéra à la française, even anticipating Bellinian bel canto. The opera’s focal point is the character of Julia, which requires an exceptional soprano to do it justice. After the creator, Caroline Branchu – whom Berlioz described as ‘operatic tragedy incarnate’ – and Maria Callas at La Scala in 1954, Marina Rebeka takes on in masterly fashion a role that seems tailor-made for her impressive vocal resources, supported by the energy and precision of the period instruments of Les Talens Lyriques under Christophe Rousset. The result is genuinely revelatory.

The dance permeated every layer of Romantic society. From popular dance halls to courtly salons, people showed their public face, enjoyed themselves and met one another in waltz time or to the rhythms of the quadrille or the polka. At the same time, ballet gained unprecedented fame on the stage of the Paris Opéra. The music that accompanied this frantic round in France has long been neglected, whereas the Viennese have never ceased to celebrate their waltzes. Under the expert baton of François-Xavier Roth, the orchestra Les Siècles has set out to rediscover this French repertory using historical instruments. Their album explores the output of both established composers – Camille Saint-Saëns, Ambroise Thomas, Charles Gounod, Jules Massenet – and their colleagues who specialized in Terpsichorean entertainment, including Philippe Musard, Isaac Strauss, Émile Waldteufel and Hervé.

REVIEWS:

Beautifully recorded and with Bru Zane’s customary excellent booklet notes, this is a disc to delight Francophiles, especially sweet-toothed ones like myself.

 -- Gramophone

There is a blowsy joie de vivre in these performances by Roth’s French Orchestra Les Siecles that is hard to resist.

-- The Sunday Times (UK)

It’s all very French, and presented with great flair and warmth by Roth and his orchestra.

-- The Guardian (UK)

Cherubini’s Les Abencérages, premiered in 1813, heralds the spectacle and extravagance of Romantic grand opera. From the Alhambra gardens to the battlefield, the action skillfully intertwines political conspiracies with a love story. Underpinned by the energy and timbres of period instruments, this recording demonstrates the work’s modernity and its musical qualities. Anaïs Constans valiantly tackles the demanding role of Noraïme, while Edgaras Montvidas displays his lyric tenor voice in a series of sublime airs whose beauty was already hinted at by none other than Roberto Alagna in a recital disc released in 2003. Around this couple, a plethoric cast of soloists (Dolié, Sargsyan, Williams, Martin, Lavoie, etc.) achieves the same high standards of French diction and style. The Hungarian conductor György Vashegyi, flanked by the Purcell Choir and Orfeo Orchestra, reveals here another key milestone of French Romantic opera.

REVIEWS:

Unstaged in Paris for over two centuries Les Abencérages, a kind of ‘missing link’ in the history of French opera, has been disinterred by Bru Zane. The overture with its two warring themes – romantic passion versus battlefield chivalry – announce a changed sensibility where the political is properly personal.

György Vashegyi and the Orfeo Orchestra find Beethoven – drums and trumpets and driving rhythms – in Cherubini’s score, and hints at the start of Act III of the Romanticism to come with Mendelssohn. While Étienne de Jouy’s libretto is set in the exotic Alhambra of late-15th century Moorish Grenada, its spectacle and masterly use of the chorus suggests the coming French Grand Opéra. Its story presents two warring factions within the last Spanish caliphate ready to be reconciled through the warrior Almazor’s marriage to Princess Norïme. That is until the villainous Vizier Alémar starts to plot!

Cherubini’s vocal line is free of Italian decorative thrills. Anaïs Constans handles Norïme’s high tessitura with grace, and Edgaras Montvidas’s Almanzor is a worthy heir to Louis Nourrit, the tenor who created the role in 1813. His farewell when exiled from Grenada having ‘lost’ the kingdom’s sacred standard on the battlefield is properly affecting.

Yet it’s the Purcell Choir who steal the vocal honours, with magnificent singing by the women in Act I as they prepare for the wedding, and the men rattling their vocal sabres handsomely as the plot thickens in Act II. For all that, the musical history is perhaps more striking than the opera itself.

-- BBC Music Magazine