Reissues seem to be
appearing sooner and sooner. This compilation
first appeared on Warner’s Erato label
in September 2000 (8573 802342). It
presents some less familiar Faust
music.
Berlioz’s Huit Scènes
de Faust, was composed between 1828
and 1829, after the composer had been
bowled over by the discovery of Goethe’s
poem. Of it Berlioz remarked: "The
marvellous book fascinated me from the
first; I was never without it; I read
it all the time, at table, at the theatre,
in the street, everywhere".
This setting is Berlioz’s choice of
eight scenes from Gérard de Nerval’s
French translation of Faust but
without heed to the dramatic development
of the verse play; in fact in Berlioz’s
work Faust never appears! Later, in
1846, Berlioz would refashion much of
the material into his more celebrated
dramatic cantata La Damnation de
Faust.
The first of the eight
scenes is liturgical in character, an
Easter Hymn for chorus, beautifully
conceived and most sensitively sung
by the French Radio Choir. In antithesis,
the tenor and chorus representing ‘Peasants
beneath the lime-trees’ follows a more
lewd and earthy celebration with Méphistophélès
leading the dance – Jean-Paul Fouchécourt
is debonairly devilish in the role.
Berlioz’s inspired use of the orchestra
is evidenced throughout these eight
scenes. In the ‘Concert of the Sylphs’
harp and celesta add magic as the chorus
celebrates the joys of the countryside
and abandonment to love. Brandon’s song
about the indignities imposed on the
poisoned kitchen rat (bass Frédéric
Caton, finely sardonic) has deliciously
ironic writing for the lower woodwinds.
Méphistophélè’s
Song about the Prince’s flea follows
(with Fouchécourt marvellously
sarcastic and mincing). Jean-Baptiste
Brunier (viola) offers a most moving
viola solo in Berlioz’s lovely tribute
to the memory of love that is ‘The King
of Thule’ with Angelika Kirschlager
sensitive if not always the model of
clarity. She is plaintive and love-struck
in ‘Marguérite’s Song’ with its
exquisite cor anglais solo (full marks
to another French Radio Orchestra soloist,
Stéphane Schanek). Marguerite’s
ecstasy at the thought of the approaching
Faust (with sensuously shuddering strings)
is rudely interrupted by the approaching
virile ‘Soldiers’ Chorus’ with drums
and trumpets as the men sing of lusty
conquests. Finally ‘Méphistophélès’
Serenade’ is a cheeky warning to Marguérite
that she will not emerge from her night
of love as a maiden and that she should
hold out for a wedding ring.
Liszt was, of course,
very much influenced by Goethe’s poem:
think of the piano works, Malédiction,
the Mephisto Waltzes, the Mephisto
Polka and the enigmatic B minor
sonata; and, of course the Faust
Symphony. But here Liszt takes as
his inspiration the Austrian poet Nikolaus
Lenau, not Goethe. In the first episode,
however, material familiar from the
aforementioned works is apparent. The
Dance at the Inn is a mix of rustic
dance with diabolical comment and an
amorous waltz that Sado delivers with
zest and incision. The intense and atmospheric
Nocturnal Procession pitching
the forces of light and darkness, has
creepy menace and is somewhat reminiscent
of Berlioz’s Harold in Italy Pilgrims
March.
Wagner’s Faust Overture
was first conceived as an Overture to
Goethe’s Faust in 1840 after
Wagner had attended a performance of
Berlioz’s Romeo and Juliet in
Paris the previous year. Wagner later
reworked the piece in 1855 as his Faust
Overture. Sado unleashes its climax
in a controlled but diabolical frenzy
before it closes in ambiguous calm.
Less familiar musical
versions of the Faust legend
in stylish performances.
Ian Lace
Angelika Kirschlager, mezzo-soprano (Marguérite)
