There have been remarkably
few recordings of ‘Orphée’ in
French, which is rather surprising considering
the work’s popularity. But the combination
of circumstances make it understandable;
Anglophone casts are reluctant to record
so much spoken dialogue in French; opera
companies tend to produce the work in
the language of their country (there
have been at least two recordings in
English based on English productions
of the work); there has been a significant
decline in Francophone recordings of
French operas since the war and this
has been combined with some sort of
failure in the stylistic tradition of
French performances. We can, perhaps,
come to accept international grand opera
performances of ‘Carmen’ or ‘Les Contes
d’Hoffmann’, but this style of performance
is harder to accept in an operetta like
‘Orphee’ where the delivery of the text
is almost as important as the music.
Since this recording
was made in 1952, there have been only
two more in French. Michel Plasson recorded
the work in 1978 with Mady Mesplé
as Eurydice and in 1999 Mark Minkowski
went into the studio with a fine cast
that included Natalie Dessay.
But things are just
a little more complicated than that.
Plasson recorded Offenbach’s later,
1874, expanded version of the operetta.
This is a grand, four act piece that
is rarely performed on stage. In the
opera house, you are more likely to
find performances of the original, smaller
scale, 1858 two act version with odd
items interpolated from 1874 and this
is what Minkowski has recorded. Leibowitz
recorded the original 1858 version without
interpolations and it does come over
as rather compact and quite short. However
this version was written for Offenbach’s
tiny theatre ‘Les Bouffes-Parisiens’
and the work has a liveliness and concentrated
intensity which can be rather dispersed
in bigger versions. Leibowitz, recording
with the same forces who gave us the
classic recording of ‘La Belle Hélène’,
makes the most of this versions virtues;
you scarcely miss the grander, larger
scale forces that would be needed for
the 1874 version. Like ‘La Belle Hélène’
this recording has become a classic.
The original cast might be surprised
at this classic status; after all none
of them is really famous and not all
the voices are perfect. But what the
performance has is a secure sense of
style.
Claudine Collart makes
a deceptively fragile sounding Eurydicé,
with a shapely turn of phrase and plenty
of charm.. Jean Mollien displays a rich-toned
voice and a nice line in pomposity as
Orphée. Andrée Dran, as
Pluton, has a fine, flexible tenor,
though his sense of line is uneven.
All of the Gods turn in sharply defined
characters; Janine Lindenfelder, who,
here, is ravishing as Diane, sings the
title role in Leibowitz’s fine recording
of ‘La Belle Hélène’.
Jean Hoffmann is a characterful and
rather tipsy sounding John Styx, if
a little untidy. Collart and Bernard
Demigny, as Jupiter, relish the ludicrous
scene where Jupiter seduces Eurydicé
disguised as a bee, and their buzzing
duet is a triumph of vocal art. Violette
Journeaux, as L’Opinion Publique, opens
the proceedings with her wonderfully
redolent and expressive speaking voice.
All of the singers
share elements of the same, almost vanished,
very French vocal production; perhaps
sounding a little dry at times but ideal
for pointing the text. Not only do they
relish the sung text, but the spoken
as well. The whole cast, both in their
vocal qualities and in their methods
of delivery, have a strong period feel,
but they are secure in their communal
feel for the style of the piece. These
are virtues which have been replaced
in our own time by a more generic vocalism,
even if it is easier on the ear. This
confidence to be different also applies
to the orchestra. The disc was recorded
in an era when orchestras in different
countries could still have radically
different playing styles, so from the
first notes of the overture, the orchestra
displays a distinctive, lean (and rather
period) sound with the woodwind having
that particular French tang. Reading
between the lines of the above, you
may come to realise that not everyone
will appreciate the distinctive sound-world
of this recording. But it is important;
this is a sound-world that is firmly
in the performing tradition that Offenbach
would have recognised.
Not all is perfect,
the ensembles are notably untidy, there
is the odd passage of fioriture which
sounds rather fuzzy and the balance
in the concerted passages can be poor.
Of course, it is recorded in very period
sound; but faced with such a stylish,
witty performance, who could really
complain.
The recording is accompanied
by a selection of Offenbach arias recorded
by a series of interesting and well
known artists. Amongst these are a suave
performance of ‘Au mont Ida’ (from ‘La
Belle Hélène) by Jussi
Björling (sung in Swedish) and
an account of ‘Pif, Paf, Pouf’ (from
‘La Grande-Duchesse de Gérolstein)
by Louis Musy that almost made me laugh
out loud. Claudia Novikova singing ‘A
quel diner’ (from ‘La Périchole’)
in Russian, is a curiosity, but Maggie
Teyte has an exquisite sense of style
in her performance of ‘Je t’adore brigand’
from the same opera.
The composer Reynaldo
Hahn was not strictly an opera singer
at all, but his two items from ‘La Boulanger
des Ecus’ are a perfect match of words
and music, even if they are sung with
a thread of a dry voice. Yvonne Printemps
evinces the same textual priority in
her charming solo from ‘La Grande Duchesse
de Gérolstein’. A further curiosity
is the Barcarolle from ‘Le Contes d’Hoffmann’
sung by Lucrezia Bori and Lawrence Tibbet,
in English.
This set is essential
listening for anyone that is interested
in Offenbach’s operettas. This important
historic performance has not always
been available on CD so it is good to
welcome it back.
Robert Hugill