Budget price Fausts
are not exactly two-a-penny and it’s
welcome that Naxos has turned its attention
to the work in this live performance
given over consecutive days in Lille.
It features the town’s orchestra and
the itinerant Slovak Philharmonic Choir,
a popular recording chorus for Naxos,
a liking doubtless enhanced by the relative
weakness of the Slovak Crown. But let’s
leave economics to one side. The cast
is a good one, the orchestra idiomatic
and Jean-Claude Casadesus, who has made
his mark on disc before, is at the helm.
I’d be happy to recommend
this as a starter pack for Faust
but there are too many little weaknesses
for it to be any more durable than that.
Michael Myers is the Faust and he begins
with something of a bleat in his voice;
throughout there’s a tightening or constriction
in the voice that never allows for proper
freedom of vocal production. It doesn’t
stop a distinct ardency however and
one can’t fault his ardour in the Easter
Hymn scene. As the evening develops
he grows in confidence and his tone
centres more adroitly – sample Part
III’s aria Merci. doux crepuscule!
– though I still don’t find myself convinced
by his Dans mon Coeur retentit sa
voix.
The Méphistophélès
is Alain Vernhes and he cuts a firmer,
suaver, more interesting figure, irrespective
of the theatrical potential of the respective
roles. His is not a sepulchral baritone;
in point of fact it’s rather elegant
and that informs his impersonation.
There’s real gravity and nobility in
his Part II Scene VII aria Voici
des roses and though one can imagine
rather greater resources of black-hued
evil, Vernhes cuts something of a forked
dash.
Marguerite is taken
by Marie-Ange Todorovitch, who sounds
an assured theatrical animal, if that
doesn’t sound too ungallant. The middle
of her voice is plangent, though it’s
inclined to be edgy toward the top and
her initial appearance in Part II is
not consistently impressive. There’s
a metallic strata in Que l’air
and the King of Thule song goes
for little. She grows in confidence
and in stature rapidly though and by
Scene XIII she is in commanding form,
though it should be noted that Myers
struggles somewhat in their duet. Rene
Schirrer’s Brander is first class.
The chorus sound well
drilled though they aren’t always as
responsive to mood and characterization
as they might be. This is also true
of the orchestra. They play well but
rhythms can be rather becalmed and accents
can retard theatrical impetus. In that
the conductor Casadesus has the
principal responsibility. Generally
he’s a scrupulous, decent Berlioz conductor
but he falls prey to a certain lassitude
when an injection of adrenalin is required.
He takes care over sectional balancing
and he and the recording team have equally
taken care over the balance between
solo voices, orchestra and chorus. In
the end though it’s only partially convincing.
The 1973 Colin Davis, considerably preferable
to his recent live Barbican recording,
remains a solid, central recommendation.
As usual the libretto
needs to be downloaded – a synopsis
is provided. A neat touch is added by
the identification of the cor anglais
soloist, a courtesy that should be extended
to more orchestral players.
Jonathan Woolf