Victor Massé?
Who he? Well Malibran doesn’t tell us
– their latest batch of releases is
note-less and so we face very much a
Fabrique en Français impasse.
But Massé is hardly an unknown.
Born not Victor but Felix-Marie he was
a prodigy pianist studying with Zimmermann
and with Halévy for composition.
He moved to Rome where he continued
his studies and once back in Paris he
hit his stride, earning celebrity whilst
still in his twenties with a series
of romance operas. He turned academic
in 1866, assuming the position of professor
of counterpoint at the Paris Conservatoire
and turned out grand and light operas
for the rest of his life. His last work,
Une Nuit de Cléopatre,
was performed posthumously in April
1885.
What we have therefore
is a series of extracts from some of
those works that ensured his temporary
celebrity. The most substantial by far
is the adventurous selection from Les
Noces de Jeannette (1853) made by
Pathé in 1922 and starring the
adorable Ninon Vallin. I say made in
1922 but actually the overture wasn’t
recorded and instead we have a 1948
radio broadcast conducted by Jules Gressier.
And what a charmer of an overture it
is – with bells and blithe festive spirit,
the music is full of Rossinian gusto
and the playing’s very enthusiastic.
The 1922 extracts reinforce one’s view
of Vallin as one of the greatest embodiments
of French style – élan is an
easy word to use of her but no less
true for all that – whose light soprano
is here in the freshest of voices (though
she was still sounding fresh voiced
when she was seventy). Her breathless
precision in the extract beginning Margot,
lève ton sabot is a delight,
happily matched by her partner, Léon
Ponzio, who shows yet again what a characterful
light baritone he was; how vocally resourceful
and full of personality he always seemed.
Above all we can reconcile this series
of extracts with the complete Manon
that Vallin never recorded (there are
substantial extracts but no complete
recording from her). The instinct for
quicksilver character changing, for
declamation but also for ineffable softness
is there in these 1922 recordings as
is her marvellous coloratura (sample
the Nightingale’s air here). The recording
is in a fine state of preservation and
there’s only one abrupt side join (in
Vallin’s Air du Rossignol, as it happens).
The other extracts
show Massé’s Rossini-influenced
brio – touched I think with an admixture
of his contemporary Offenbach’s rollicking
fun – in full flood. Ponzio is ebullient
in his aria from La mule de Pedro
and we are introduced to other stellar
French voices. Balbon proves himself
a character actor born to the part,
Lemichel du Roy’s coloratura almost
matches Vallin’s and, even better, Soulacroix
crops up in an ancient Odéon
to give a marvellously evocative turn
in Paul et Virginie – her piano
accompaniment sounds like a cimbalom
but no matter. Similarly another great
figure is here - Jeanne Gerville-Réache
who gave the premiere of Pelleas et
Melisande with Mary Garden and Périer.
She shows her still legendary power
and range in her extract from the same
opera – but she can lighten her tone
magically. Is there a set of her recordings
around? Albert Vaguet was one of the
most mellifluous French singers around
at the time and he doesn’t disappoint
in Par quel charme – charm is
indeed the operative word in his case.
If only whole schools of French vocalism
hadn’t melted away like the snow. Finally
there is another Odéon, probably
contemporary with Soulacroix’s. No dates
are given here but I think c1906 is
about right. It’s sung by Lise Landouzy
and self announced, as was often the
custom. She was a star of the Opéra-Comique
and it leaps through the grooves in
her performance of an aria from La
Reine Topaze. Technically it’s not
one hundred percent but goodness, what
bell like clarity and éclat.
Well, that’s Victor
Massé. Some of the copies are
somewhat rough but it’s not surprising
as some of them are just a year or two
short of a century old. We have a mini
roll call of the good and the great
of French vocalism from the period and
what individualists they were, fusing
splendid techniques with clarity of
projection, absorbing Italian influences
and French intimacies and always retaining
total independence. This is obviously
a specialist release but while there
are discs like this around I’ll be reviewing
them.
Jonathan Woolf