Poor old Cherubini. Who remembers him
today ... and for what? At best perhaps
he is recalled as the Director, for
some two decades, of the Paris Conservatoire;
or possibly as the composer of the striking
classical drama Medee, which
was to become a vaunted vehicle in the
1950s and 1960s for Maria Callas ...
and beyond that? Well probably not very
much.
In fact Cherubini was
a very active and significant figure
in the operatic world of the late 18th
century and early 19th century, producing,
between 1770 and 1815, some 32 stage
works. Indeed even after the collapse
of the Napoeonic order and the assumption
of his Conservatoire duties he managed
three further operas, his last work,
Ali Baba, staged at the Paris
Opera in 1833.
Fundamentally serious
in outlook he naturally aligned himself
with the reformists and largely ignored
"buffa" and "comique"
types, preferring "opera seria",
particularly as a platform to extend
and develop the 18th century form of
"tragedie lyrique". Alas he
was stubbornly under-appreciated in
France, and was unable to break into
the inner circle of the Academie Royale/Imperiale.
Indeed it was long asserted
that Napoleon disliked his music, and
this led to a clear antipathy to his
work within the court. Whilst it was
true that the Emperor preferred simpler
Italianate confections, this enmity
seems to be largely myth. Cherubini
was appointed Napoleon’s Director of
Music between 1805 and 1806, and there
is abundant evidence of commissions
throughout the 1st Empire. Moreover,
the premiere of Les Abencérages,
on 6 April 1813, was graced by the Emperor
himself ... an even greater mark of
approval than it might at first seem
since Napoleon had deliberately delayed
his departure to the crucial Eastern
campaign to attend the opera.
Unfortunately the popularity
of the work was short lived and Les
Abencerages effectively disappeared
for a century and a half. It was briefly
revived at the Maggio Musicale festival
of 1956, in a production that united
Anita Cerquetti with Carlo Maria Giulini,
otherwise it has been cast to the outer
reaches of the repertoire, known only
for its overture and one or two of Almanzor’s
arias. It would surely be a worthwhile
candidate for revival at an enterprising
festival such as Wexford.
Part of the reason for
its neglect may lie in the rather contrived
libretto by Etienne de Jouy. It revolves
around an ancient feud between the Moorish
tribes of the Abencerragi and the Zegri.
The Vizier (a Zegri) along with co-conpirators
Alamir and Kaled work against Almanzor
to ruin his reputation.
Meanwhile Almanzor and
Noraime are in love and their wedding
takes place within the Alhambra, with
Gonzalve, a Spanish general, as honoured
guest. The ceremony is interrupted by
news of an an uprising which Almanzor
has to quell.
He returns triumphant
but in the process of victory has lost
the sacred standard of Granada. Despite
his claims that he passed it to the
knight Octair who disappeared, Almanzor
is banished. His love for Noraime however
is so strong he sneaks back into the
Alhambra gardens to see her and is captured.
His transgression means he is doomed
to be cast down a cliff unless a champion
comes forth to fight Alamir for his
life.
To universal surprise
a mysterious knight duly appears, takes
up the challenge, and defeats Alamir.
He then not only reveals himself as
Gonzalve the Spanish general, but also
produces proof that Octair was acting
with the Vizier and his followers to
deliberately discredit Almanzor. The
traitors are arrested and Almanzor and
Noraime reunited.
Cherubini creates a
work with real melodic interest and
perhaps more open-ended forms than with
many of his previous opera seria. In
fact it seems to me a definite advance
over much of his work of the previous
two decades. By comparison a previous
CD issue of Lodoiska, a "rescue
opera" of 1791, struck me as cold
and formulaic, despite the fervent advocacy
of Riccardo Muti and his La Scala team
- admirably captured by Sony Classical
in a live performance.
Although greater weight
and experience is evident in the choral
scenes I would concede that characterisation
of the leading characters is not as
well defined as in some of Cherubini’s
earlier operas. In this respect a work
like Medee is in certainly in
a different league. Nevertheless there
is much that is worthwhile here and
the artists involved, by and large,
do the piece justice.
Almanzor should have
a bel-canto warmth with heroic
pretensions, to which Francisco Ortiz
responds very pleasingly. I had not
come across this Spanish singer before
and I look forward to crossing his path
again. He maintains a good line, and
has sap in his voice, responding well
to the text. Meanwhile his partner in
love, Noraime, is taken by Margherita
Rinaldi. She has all the notes, although
there is a tendency for her voice to
harden and become squally in the topmost
registers.
The roles of Gonzalve
and Alemar are in the skilled hands
of Jean Dupouy and Jacques Mars. Unsurprisingly
they sound more at ease in the language,
and Dupouy especially adds to this quality
a fine voice with a ringing top register.
He certainly sounds like a worthy champion
for anyone. The remaining cast are more
than adequate.
Peter Maag is nevertheless
the justifiable focus of this reissue,
part of a series devoted to his valuable
work in Italian Radio in the 1970s,
resuscitating works from the late 18th
and early 19th centuries. Although the
sleeve-note writer at one point asserts:
"Maag surprises us by the ease
with which he manages to adapt, with
outstanding results, to a repertoire
that certainly was not among his favourites"
I can only conclude
that he manages to hide his antipathy
well!
Incidentally, the notes
remind us that one of his most valuable
rediscoveries was Paer’s Leonora,
subsequently recorded and issued commercially
by Decca; I have cassettes of this recording,
but did it ever make it to CD?
Although the music of
Les Abencérages is not especially
evocative of the Alhambra, let alone
Spain, Cherubini does include some quite
attractive cod Spanish dances in the
first act’s wedding celebrations. Each
act also concludes with an impressive
finale, building quite a head of steam
in the first, which Maag controls admirably,
bringing out much detail in the orchestral
part writing. Just occasionally, for
example the opening of second act, the
orchestra are fallible in intonation,
but there is nothing especially worrying
overall. In general they respond admirably
to their conductor.
To round things off
the 1975 radio sound is well transferred;
warm but with detail preserved. A four-language
synopsis is provided, but be warned;
the libretto is in French only. In short,
if it appeals, take the plunge!
Ian Bailey
Orchestra Sinfonica RAI di Milano/Peter Maag
