Les Arts Florissants
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Bach: Mass in B Minor / Christie, Les Arts Florissants
A MusicWeb International Recording of the Month!
This is a marvellous new B Minor Mass and it is, without a doubt, the most French-sounding version of the piece to have yet come my way.
That might sound like a lazy stereotype. After all, it’s performed by that most renowned Francophile among musicians, William Christie, who has dedicated his life to rehabilitating the French Baroque and whose efforts have meant that names such as Lully, Rameau, Charpentier and Marais have been not only rescued from their specialist niche but have been given an uncontested place among the concert programmes of the Anglo-Saxons. With his ensemble Les Arts Florissants he has become one of the greatest champions of that music, so it’s hardly surprising that some of the interpretative dust of the French Baroque should rub off onto his Bach.
It’s not just a trope to describe his Bach as Gallic, however. It’s there right from the start. The opening Kyrie is the most mellifluous and honeyed I have heard since the advent of historical performance practice. The two great fugues proceed with cultured smoothness that sounds as though they have one eyebrow perpetually raised. It’s a sound of which, I suspect, Lutheran Bach would have profoundly disapproved. I rather liked it, however, and as a change from what has become the norm of period practice I found it very effective.
That’s only one example of one of the performance’s wider traits. Throughout, it has an elegance, an élan, a nonchalance, almost, that would make them seem entirely at home if performed in the court of ancien regime Versailles. The solos with their instrumental obligatti, for example, sound refined and polished in a manner that is a hundred miles away from the church and more from the realm of the theatre. There’s nothing wrong with that, though, and it’s in keeping with Christie’s vision. My favourites included Katherine Watson in the Laudamus te, with a wonderfully dusky violin, and André Morsch’s playful combat with the horn in the Quoniam. Tim Mead’s lovely countertenor is a repeated highlight, be it slotting into Watson’s soprano in the Christe or sustaining a blisterinly poignant Agnus Dei at the end.
Not only are the orchestral and instrumental playing super throughout, but the choral singing is top notch, too. That, however, will come as no surprise to those how know and love the work of Les Arts Florissants, and it’s great to hear them tackling one of the central works of the German repertoire. It’s a Teutonic world that they can’t be too practised in, but they bring something remarkably distinctive to it.
The main reason for the performance’s success, however, is Christie himself. Bringing his lifetime’s experience to the B Minor Mass must, surely, have been a labour of love rather than an expectation, and the results are wonderful. There is majesty aplenty in the Gloria, whose opening casts off the mellifluousness of the preceding Kyrie as though emerging into a new light, producing rumbustious, gloriously winning tone that brought a broad grin to my face, as did the outer bookends of the Credo. The Sanctus is taken at a rapid pace, with brilliantly detailed violin inflections to enliven the texture, and the final Dona nobis pacem is brilliantly paced.
Perhaps the highlight of the work is the Easter sequence, however, and, in particular, the Crucifixus. Here you get the unmistakeable whiff of the Opéra, because Christie slows down the pace and stresses the beat with what comes close to string (and voice) sforzandi in a way that surely mimics the nails being repeatedly battered into Christ’s suffering body. It’s this movement that will tell you whether this performance is for you. Some might find it vulgar or too overtly theatrical. I thought it wonderful, an example of the conductor using his experience in the theatre to enlighten and deepen his vision of Bach.
Choose for yourself, but I thought this the most memorable B Minor Mass to have come my way since the (entirely different) performance from John Butt and the Dunedin Consort. Explore it and be surprised.
– MusicWeb International (Simon Thompson)
Lully: Atys / Christie, Les Arts Florissants [Blu-ray]
This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.
Also available on standard DVD
Jean-Baptiste Lully’s Atys, a tragédie en musique, became known as the ‘king’s opera’ due to Louis XIV’s fondness for it. The work stands as a testament to the Sun King’s courtly refinement, as well as his moves to make France the center of European artistic culture. The opera’s themes of romantic dilemmas and ultimate tragedy, set amidst the poetic atmosphere of Ovid’s classical mythology, create the perfect vehicle for a narrative filled with dramatic intensity combined with a myriad of moving and expressive arias and duets. William Christie conducts this acclaimed production – hailed by The New York Times as being ‘as satisfying it is bold’.
REVIEW:
The role of Atys is physically as well as vocally taxing, but is here superbly realised by the German tenor, Bernard Richter, while the French soprano, Emmanuelle De Negri, is an excellent Sangaride, with the creamy voice of the mezzo, Stephanie D’Oustrac, as Cybele completing the love triangle. The cast list is large, and with the Compagnie Fetes Galantes providing the dancers, the stage is at times totally filled. The reviews at the time of filimg (2011) were suitably euphoric regarding the casting, and equally of the presence of the period instrument orchestra, Les Arts Florrissants, with the idiomatic conducting of William Christie. The filming itself is immaculate in its ideal mix of full stage and close-up images, while the sound quality is gorgeous.
– David's Review Corner (David Denton)
ACIS & GALATEA
Cavalli: Didone
Baroque Opera Classics (7 Blu-ray Discs)
Rameau: Daphnis & Egle
HANDEL: L'ALLEGRO IL PENSEROSO ED IL MODERATO
Baroque Opera Classics
Also available on Blu-ray
Featuring some of the earliest operas in existence, this box set features Baroque Opera Classics. The set contains Handel’s Deidamia, Cavalli’s La Didone, and Ercole Amante,Pergolesi’s Adriano in Siria, Rameau’s Zoroastre, and Scarlatti’s Dove e Amore e Gelosia. These recordings from De Nederlandse Opera, Le Theatre de Caen, Pergolesi Spring Festival, Jesi, Ancona, and DNO are not to be missed.
Bach: A Life in Music, Vol.1 / Agnew, Les Arts Florissants
Lully: Atys / Christie, Les Arts Florissants
Jean-Baptiste Lully’s Atys, a tragédie en musique, became known as the ‘king’s opera’ due to Louis XIV’s fondness for it. The work stands as a testament to the Sun King’s courtly refinement, as well as his moves to make France the center of European artistic culture. The opera’s themes of romantic dilemmas and ultimate tragedy, set amidst the poetic atmosphere of Ovid’s classical mythology, create the perfect vehicle for a narrative filled with dramatic intensity combined with a myriad of moving and expressive arias and duets. William Christie conducts this acclaimed production – hailed by The New York Times as being ‘as satisfying as it is bold’.
REVIEW:
The role of Atys is physically as well as vocally taxing, but is here superbly realised by the German tenor, Bernard Richter, while the French soprano, Emmanuelle De Negri, is an excellent Sangaride, with the creamy voice of the mezzo, Stephanie D’Oustrac, as Cybele completing the love triangle. The cast list is large, and with the Compagnie Fetes Galantes providing the dancers, the stage is at times totally filled. The reviews at the time of filimg (2011) were suitably euphoric regarding the casting, and equally of the presence of the period instrument orchestra, Les Arts Florrissants, with the idiomatic conducting of William Christie. The filming itself is immaculate in its ideal mix of full stage and close-up images, while the sound quality is gorgeous.
– David's Review Corner (David Denton)
Charpentier: David & Jonathas / Christie
Written a year after the death of Lully, this lyric tragedy allows Charpentier to develop beyond the religious dimension, a story of male friendship and forbidden love between David and Jonathas. An excellent cast gathered around William Christie and Les Arts Florissants brings young singers to the title roles: Pascal Charbonneau, a tenor and a former student of the European Academy of Music, sings David. The role of Jonathas is given to a woman: soprano Ana Quintans.
The staging by Andreas Homoki (Director of the Zurich Opera since summer 2012) focuses on the psychological aspect of this forbidden love story, giving a moving reading of the drama.
Direction: Andreas Homoki
Scenography: Paul Zoller
Costumes: Gideon Davey
Lighting: Franck Evin
R E V I E W:
Marc-Antoine Charpentier’s lack of official affiliation with the French court’s rather formal musical establishment under Jean-Baptiste Lully had two effects, as I noted in my other review this issue. First, he was free to do other things, and since Lully was not especially interested in sacred music, Charpentier was pretty much left on his own to develop music in the church, which he did in a grand style. As a sideline, he was also freed from the inevitable debate that arose between adherents of the French and Italian styles, for having been trained in Italy, he felt free to dip in and out of both with some alacrity. Second, as someone not under Lully’s sway, his desire to compose for the stage was rather curtailed, since the tragédie lyrique was not something he was able to compose officially. Not until 1693 did his only work in this genre, Medée, come to the stage, notably a number of years after Lully’s death and the implosion of his musical dynasty. In the meantime, he dabbled in the form with a series of Jesuit works for the Collège de Louis-le-Grand, of which David et Jonathas from 1688 was the most “operatic” (though of course he was able to get a number of pastorals and ballets performed at the Opéra). Consisting of the usual five acts and prologue, he altered the form somewhat, interspersing the Divertissement at the beginning and end of each act instead of placing it all in a bunch at the end. Otherwise, the flow of the work pretty much follows that of the normal secular works composed by Lully and others.
Insofar as the plot goes, this seems to have been a gloss on a play by Etienne Chamillart, performed at the same time, which fleshes out the story of the friendship of David and Jonathan. In a prologue, the seer (here called somewhat ironically La Pythonesse instead of the Witch of Endor) foretells Saul’s defeat through the shade of the prophet Samuel. Act One opens with the Philistines, here seemingly dressed in a motley sartorial concoction of djelabas, working clothes with suspenders, and bright red fezzes, cheering on David (sung here by high tenor Paul Charbonneau), while their King, Achis (sung with a resonant bass by Frédéric Caton, dressed like a Grand Mufti), decides to negotiate a truce with Saul (sung in an equally expressive and resonant bass by Neal Davies, dressed in a weskit and working-class pants). This annoys the general of the Philistine army, Joabel (sung in a lighter tenor by Kre?imir ?picer, who is somehow dressed in a strange turban and has a stringy long goatee), who then plots to destroy David. In the meantime, David meets with his friend Jonathas (sung in a pants role by soprano Ana Quintans, who sports a strange intellectual look replete with dark-rimmed glasses). In the Third Act, Saul’s jealousy explodes, and when Achis won’t execute David and Jonathas also refuses, he prepares to abrogate the truce with the Philistines. Jonathas is gravely wounded in the battle that follows, and although filled with remorse, Saul still attempts to kill David, even though mortally wounded himself. When Jonathas dies in David’s arms, David is overcome with despair, and even the proclamation by Achis that David is now the King of Israel fails to cheer him up.
As far as plots for operas go, this one is probably a step up from the usual opera seria or French classical plot of the time, for it contains a great deal of pathos and character development. If there is a moral to the story, it seems rather dispersed among the various turns of the plot. The music is set in a through-composed manner, with recitative and aria flowing easily in and out of each other, and Charpentier’s choice of limiting the dances to the beginnings and ends of each act allows for the plot to develop more smoothly.
Insofar as the music goes, the singing is first-rate and, as expected, William Christie’s venerable Arts Florissants ensemble is virtually flawless in their execution of Charpentier’s rich score. If this was a disc, I would purchase it in an instant. I found it every bit as good if not better than his release back in 1998 on Harmonia Mundi (which was re-released just this past year), and I like it much better than the old Erato recording with Opera Lyon. Unfortunately, it is not, and the reason is the staging. The set is a movable wooden box, with basically a large wood picnic table and chairs for props. The walls are movable, including an awkward moment in the final triumphal chorus scene at the end where the chorus is crowded together as the walls hem them in, looking very much at one moment like the interior of a cattle car. The costumes are also bizarre. The Israelites look very much like refugees from some sort of Russian steppe, sometimes with Hasidic hats, while the Philistines are a mismatched bunch of pseudo-Turkish peasants, looking for all the world like they desperately need both shaves and baths. The principals are not immune to this sartorial faux pas, for Jonathas looks like a bit of a nerd and David a working-class bloke straight from a factory. Even their “friendship” is supposed to heighten the homoerotic story, but Quintans doesn’t really act like a guy, just someone who has cross-dressed. Finally, Neal Davies has been directed to play Saul mostly on his knees, grimacing ferociously into the camera. Even the Pythoness and her hoard of priestesses look like they stepped right out of a rural diner in their checked gingham dresses. Of course, this has nothing to do with Charpentier or his dramatic music, or even the terrific musicality of the vocalists. But for visuals, this is yet another bizarre attempt to “update” the setting by doing something artistically unfathomable. Too bad; the artistry of the performers deserves better.
FANFARE: Bertil van Boer
