Laurent Naouri / Frédéric Loiseau EN SOURDINE

 

EN SOURDINE

 

Diana Damrau MEYERBEER Grand Opera

There’s a great deal to admire in this release, the realisation of a long cherished idea for Diana Damrau. It’s meticulously sung, well researched and beautifully presented. And don’t be fooled by the ‘grand opera’ title: it’s not just a matter of works in the spectacular genre with which Meyerbeer is most closely associated. There’s repertoire in German and Italian as well as from French opéras both grands and comiques, plus plenty of music from before the composer conquered Paris, going back as far as the singspiel Alimelek, oder Die beiden Kalifen (1814).

Damrau’s own enthusiastic note in the booklet emphasises the variety that the programme demonstrates. And, to a certain extent, we hear that as we run the gamut from charming simplicity in the German works, Rossinian fireworks in the Italian ones to, well, Meyerbeerian fireworks in the French.

But having a whole disc of soprano arias by a composer whose major concern never seems to have been three-dimensional characterisation also seems to undermine the very point Damrau is trying to make. A third of the arias feature extensive flute obliggato, for example, others clarinet – or both. Perky coloratura, dispatched with cool aplomb by Damrau, is a standard device. Meyerbeer could certainly string notes (and lots of them) together fluently, but he struggled to hit upon truly memorable melodies.

There’s still plenty of originality, though. Take the mournful, heartfelt cor anglais solo in Isabelle’s ‘Robert, toi que j’aime’, which looks forward to Berlioz’s ‘D’amour l’ardente flamme’ (while also bearing a less fortunate melodic similarity to Monsieur Triquet’s ditty in Eugene Onegin) – and Damrau rises to some exciting drama in its final moments. She’s also outstanding in Palmide’s ‘Con qual gioia’ (from Il crociato), which feels like three virtuoso arias for the price of one, and the extensive vocal fluff of Marguerite’s ‘Ô beau pays de la Touraine’ (Les Huguenots).

The soprano’s technique remains unruffled regardless of what challenges are thrown her way, a tendency to sag on trills notwithstanding. But the voice is not big on colouristic variety and only hints at steely determination rarely, emphasising the somewhat passive, generic nature of many of the women represented here. Sample someone like Natalie Dessay in the ubiquitous ‘Ombre légère’ to hear what more can be done. The scholarly and detailed booklet essay might have helped, too, had it furnished us with dramatic as well as musicological context for the music.

The Lyon Opera forces under Emmanuel Villaume offer fluent, lively support (I hope the flautist got paid overtime), as do the other singers making cameos. This is certainly a useful, generously filled and well-recorded compendium, better for dipping into rather than consuming in one sitting. Whether it will do anything to change your mind on Meyerbeer himself is another matter. (Hugo Shirley / Gramophone)

Emmanuelle Haïm / Le Concert d'Astrée BACH Magnificat - HANDEL Dixit Dominus

The nuanced and lively playing Emmanuelle Haïm draws from Le Concert d'Astrée is the strongest element in this recording of Bach's Magnificat and Handel's Dixit Dominus. Its colorful, briskly articulated performance is a delight throughout, but the singing of the soloists and chorus lacks the same consistency. The chorus' sound is somewhat murky and doesn't have either the blend or the linear clarity this repertoire requires. Most, but unfortunately not all, of the solo work is beautifully executed, with several lovely individual performances marred by a jarring blooper or ill-conceived interpretive choice. Soprano Karine Deshayes handles Bach's long melismatic lines with remarkable smoothness and breath control, but drops a note, very obviously. Soprano Natalie Dessay sings with her typical purity and incisive clarity, but she lurches into the final cadence of her Bach aria with such surprising vehemence that it gives a jolt. The alto parts lie low for Philippe Jaroussky, and while he negotiates them gracefully, there are only glimpses of the brilliance and sensuousness he characteristically brings to parts that are better suited to his voice type. The gorgeous performances of the higher voices in the trio, "Suscepit Israel," from the Magnificat, and the duet for sopranos, "De torrente in via bibet," from Dixit Dominus, are highlights of the album. Tenor Toby Spence and bass Laurent Naouri sing competently, but their voices don't match the sumptuous luster of the other soloists. Virgin's sound is not up to its usual standards -- it's overly bright, and at the same time muddy and thick sounding in the tutti sections. (Stephen Eddins)

Emmanuelle Haïm / Le Concert d'Astrée HANDEL Aci, Galatea e Polifemo

This Italian-language, Neapolitan "cantata a tre" from 1708 bears no resemblance (save for the Aci-and-Galatea-are-in-love-and-the-hideous-Polifemo-loves-Galatea-so-he-kills-Aci aspect of the plot) to the composer's better-known English-language Acis and Galatea, written 10 years later in London. The later work includes extra characters and a chorus. Here the burden of the story and music lies with three soloists and an orchestra, colorfully including recorders, trumpets, oboes, and a bassoon in addition to a string/continuo section with a lute or two, organ, and harpsichord.
The work is great fun and contains wonderful music, some of which Handel re-used elsewhere: Polifemo's brazen entrance aria (with a few alterations) was later given to the villainous Argante in Rinaldo; other bits show up in Il Pastor Fido and Poro. The characters and situations range from Arcadian perfect love to mustache-twirling wickedness and hard-felt grief (expressed by Galatea after Aci is killed).
The soloists are nearly ideal. Aci is sung by soprano Sandrine Piau (the role was composed for soprano castrato), and despite her entirely feminine sound, she manages to convey a certain force. Indeed her singing of "Che non può la gelosia", with its incredibly florid line expressing anxiety over jealousy and Polifemo's insane passion for Galatea, is a most determined piece. And elsewhere she's just as good. (In a 1988 recording, the part was taken by Emma Kirkby who sang it beautifully but less ardently.) Sara Mingardo is the Galatea, and her strong moments, such as "Benché tuoni", in which she refuses to give in to Polifemo's advances, are as impressive as her touching opening aria and her final lament. Her rich, dark-hued sound is a perfect foil for Piau's brighter tone.
The star turn in this opera, however, is the role of Polifemo. He may be a stock villain (well, if a giant Cyclops--the same one later blinded by Odysseus--can be stock), but his music is anything but. The opening aria is a coloratura showpiece, and his slow, six-minute "Fra l'ombre e gl'orrori", in which he feels sorry for himself, realizing that Galatea would rather die than be his, requires a range from low-D to the high-A more than two octaves above it. Laurent Naouri (billed as a baritone, but I beg to differ) has all the notes and manages to sing the words expressively to boot. Polifemo is a sarcastic bully and Naouri works past the role's nearly impossible demands to create a real monster.
Le Concert d'Astrée plays stunningly under Emmanuelle Haïm. Where, with music this expressive, another conductor might be tempted to allow the roles and instrumentalists to simply play themselves, she leads the full orchestra with the same careful touch with which she approaches the frequent obbligato parts (one aria is accompanied only by harpsichord). The sound is glorious--clear and clean. The 1988 recording under Charles Medlam (on Harmonia Mundi) still stands up well, but this one is even better. This is a fascinating work, full of the surprises only the young, fecund Handel could muster. (Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com)