This disc requires
some introduction since the composer,
let alone the work, may be unknown to
many of our readers. Méhul isn’t
even listed in The Complete Oxford Dictionary
of Opera.
Born in the Ardennes,
Méhul lived through the harrowing
period of the French Revolution and
even joined the cause by composing his
Hymne à la Raison, Le Chant
du Départ and other pieces
of patriotic music. Ten years on, the
French had tired of the patriotically
pathos-heavy repertoire of the stage
works to which they were continually
exposed. They were ready for something
fresh. By 1800, Méhul had provided
fourteen operas, many of which were
Parisian successes. He could be regarded
as a competent composer in this field.
Napoléon Bonaparte
was seriously interested in music and
was a friend of Méhul. Being
something of a connoisseur of Italian
opera he was responsible for steering
Méhul towards this fashionable
style, pointing out that his works were
too Teutonic, and rather more scientific
than pleasing. To impress his patron,
the composer took up this challenge
in his next work and L’Irato was
the result. We hear something that can
be broadly described as music not too
dissimilar to that of Mozart.
L’Irato ou l’Emporté
is a six character work written in the
opera-comique style (that is opera
buffa with dialogue). Whether the
work was presented as a curtain-raiser
or separately is not clear from the
notes.
The ten numbers comprise
four arias, duet, trio, quartette, chorus
and ensemble (finale). They provide
us with a fairly balanced stage work.
It is something of a mystery why a chorus
(backstage?) is suddenly introduced
singing unhelpful lyrics:–
"How handsome, how charming.
This must be Mars indeed,"
The plot, set in a
garden of Pandolphe’s house, is slight
and concerns a rich relation, Pandolphe,
who tries to sever the bond between
a doting couple who intend to marry.
Lysandre and Scapin
(servant) are found strolling about
in deep thought as the curtain rises.
Lysandre is upset because his uncle,
who curses, grumbles and swears at him,
has decided to marry his daughter, Isabelle,
to Lysandre’s tutor – ‘a Venetian by
birth, a pedant by profession, a fool
by nature, and a groveller’ who accepts
the uncle’s whims. The charming Isabelle
is Lysandre’s sweetheart yet she doesn’t
write to him. Scapin is upset because
he is in the uncle’s employ and can’t
do anything right. His love Nérine
(Isabelle’s maid) also doesn’t write
– principally because she can’t read
or write. So that the two don’t have
to listen to each other’s complaints
(which are similar) they decide to speak
and sing in unison. A duet now follows
where they declare their promises in
a clever bit of writing, one echoing
the other. Lysandre then exits.
Scapin is determined
to find a way to stay in Lysandre’s
service even if the uncle, Pandolphe,
stops the allowance to his master. He
sings an aria buffa with well crafted
lyrics.
Seeing Pandolphe approaching,
Scapin flees. In another aria buffa,
Pandolphe curses the fact that he can
never find his servants and ends up
complaining that he is now losing his
voice.
Lysandre reappears
and the moody Pandolphe criticises his
composure and reports that he is to
be cut from the will. He makes threats
to try to get Lysandre to lose his temper:
it doesn’t work and the uncle leaves,
furious that Lysandre is so polite.
Isabelle now enters,
with Nèrine and Scapin. Lysandre
tells her of an uncouth rival to whom
she must give her hand: he is sixty,
ugly and has no qualities – it is Balouard,
the tutor! The dilemma is now sung about
in a nicely constructed quartette. They
swear an oath to marriage or death.
Isabelle decides that
she will thwart the tutor by appearing
ridiculous, thoughtless and fickle.
She sings an aria in which she declares
her virtues and promises.
Lysandre and Scapin
now get the Tutor drunk: he falls down
paralytic. Isabelle and Nèrine
rush in having escaped from being locked
in the house and embrace. Pandolphe,
who has been spying, now enters and
tells them their love is useless. They
decide to throw themselves at his feet
("It always works in comic plays",
says Lysandre)
A finale where they
agree to sing ‘piano’ if the uncle will
consent or sing loudly and an octave
higher if he doesn’t, causes the uncle
to give in ‘with a benevolent eye’.
Maybe the plot isn’t
perfect: more could be made by insertion
of a scene with the drunken Tutor being
confronted by Pandolphe. Also the finale
could have ended on a more secure note
of regained affection since only inferences
are made. But even so, the frothy plot
seems just what the Parisian audience
of the time wanted. Certainly, the opera
was a success when first presented.
Musically, the work
may well have been scored for a small
pit/chamber orchestra since the orchestration
is not so multi-layered. However, the
construction is fitting and the marrying
of lyrics to music in the Italian vein
is good. The soloists are appropriately
fitted to their roles. Cyril Auvity
(Lysandre) is a light tenor who left
Lille Conservatoire seven years ago.
He is an agile singer who has a clear
upper reach. Croatian, baritone Miljenko
Turk, is equally light and has a voice
with wide compass. Isabelle has a good
timbre and clean top while Nèrine
supports well in the quartette. Pandolphe
gives the authority demanded of the
part as a secure and resonant bass.
The disc concludes
with the Ouverture du Ballet de
Paris a Grand Orchestre (1793).
Written to accompany a ballet pastiche
by choreographer, Gardel, it was so
successful that the score was published
and the piece adopted by a number of
European court orchestras by the turn
of the century. Of interest to the listener
is the style of this early Méhul,
a style so criticized by Bonaparte for
being stilted and inflexible. One can
recognize German characteristics in
the work, giving a hint of Beethoven
perhaps?
Conductor, Ehrhardt
has made a particular study of Méhul,
first by resurrecting his Ouverture
du Ballet de Pâris in
2004 for a seminar at Dortmund University
and now with this opera. His interpretation
of the material is consequently the
result of in-depth study for which we
should be grateful. The recording gives
an ideal balance between soloists and
orchestra: the 34 players of L’Arte
du Mondo are excellent and take the
work at a lively pace under Ehrhardt’s
direction.
Elegantly packaged,
the booklet in French, English and German
gives the full libretto and Michael
Stegemann gives excellent notes on the
composer. Mention of how the work was
presented and a synopsis of the plot
would have been welcomed.
Raymond J Walker