La terre promise (1897)
Hérodiade (1881): Charme des jours passés: Ne pouvant réprimer les élans
Le Cid (1885): Ô souverain, ô juge, ô père!
Thaïs (1898): O messager de Dieu - Baigne d’eau mes mains
Le jongleur de Notre Dame (1902): La Vierge entend fort bien
Sabine Revault d’Allonnes (soprano) Patrick Garayt (tenor) Jean-Louis Serre (baritone), Cologne Oratorio Choir, Elisabeth Brasseur Choir, Ensemble Chorala Contretemps, Cernay-la-Ville Choir, Versailles Polyphonic Ensemble, Guy Touvron Brass
French Oratorio Choir and Orchestra/Jean-Pierre lo Ré
rec. Église de la Trinité, Paris, 12 May 2012
EROL ER200040 DVD [107.00]
In his book History of the Oratorio published in 2000, Howard
Smith states that “Massenet’s last oratorio stands at the
pinnacle of nineteenth century French works in this genre” and
“the most worthy of special attention.” However it has never
previously been recorded, probably because the forces demanded are massive;
here we have, in addition to three soloists, no fewer than six combined
choirs, a brass ensemble to play the trumpets which brings down the
walls of Jericho, a huge orchestra including quadruple woodwind (two
English horns and two bass clarinets) and two pairs each of timpani,
side drums and cymbals. The forces on this DVD were assembled to commemorate
the anniversary of Massenet’s death in 2012, and given the expense
involved I suppose it is very unlikely that we are going to get another
recording soon; so all lovers of Massenet, especially in his grandiose
mood (think Esclarmonde), will have to have this release.
All the same it would not be hard to imagine a better performance than
this. In the first place Massenet uses his huge choral forces in a series
of fugues - and it would be safe to say that contrapuntal writing was
never his strongest suit. In the resonant and echoing acoustic of this
massive basilica the result is reduced to a tonal mush in which it is
often difficult to distinguish individual lines. You can see the conductor
working hard to enthuse his performers, but the orchestral players often
look bored and the choirs are clearly having difficulty co-ordinating
their efforts. Nor are Massenet’s exorbitant and specific demands
fully complied with: he asks for at least four harps for church
performance, but here we have to make do with two. Their insistent arpeggios
which accompany Massenet’s imitation of Hebrew chanting in Part
One - in which he anticipates Elgar in The Apostles - are insufficiently
forceful.
The First Part depicts the Israelites in the wilderness, and their alliance
with the Moabites. The music at the beginning recalls that for the monks
in Thaïs from a couple of years before, but rises to a more
grandiose climax. The choristers don’t sound very fierce when
they sing about having heard God “in the midst of the fire”.
It is not until the antiphonal chanting later on that they seem to get
the bit between their teeth … and the acoustic blurs some of their
melismatic lines.
It is not indeed until the second part, which depicts the fall of Jericho,
that the music rises above a turgid religiosity to produce some real
drama. It begins unpromisingly with a jogging little fugue theme clearly
modelled closely on Mendelssohn’s opening to Elijah, but
- after rather too long - builds up a good head of steam. In this it
is aided by some very Berliozian touches: wailing woodwind figures,
stentorian brass chords and rolls on two sets of timpani. The influence
of Berlioz can also be felt in the march around the walls of Jericho,
with the isolated group of seven trumpets in the gallery set against
the timpani duet on stage. Again one would like more harps, and the
surging principal string melody should surely sound much more forceful
and ‘present’ than it does here. The march ends with the
chorus delivering a “terrible, agonised, powerful and prolonged
cry”. The unpitched howl from the choir here - albeit rather too
well-mannered, despite encouragement from the conductor - is a truly
original effect leading to a barbaric chorus of rejoicing that almost
anticipates Walton is Belshazzar’s Feast. This is one of
Massenet’s very greatest inspirations, unexpected in this context.
After that the third part can afford to be more relaxed, and indeed
begins with a prelude entitled Pastorale. There then follows
a gentle choral meditation which builds to a sonorous climax. There’s
then a solo for the soprano accompanied by the organ and placed above
and behind the massed forces on the space below. The organ then suddenly
erupts with grandiose chords which clearly show the influence of Berlioz’s
Te Deum. The movement then degenerates into a somewhat untidy
fugue which is clearly intended to bring things to a sonorous conclusion
but here just sounds rather confused.
Of the three soloists, Sabine Revault d’Allonnes is, by a considerable
margin, the best. I loved her work on a disc of Massenet mélodies
last year (review),
and she has a real feeling for the style of the composer as well as
a stupendously radiant voice. Garayt is fine and indeed heroic in his
lower and middle registers, but there is a distinct sign of strain in
the upper reaches of his voice as he tries to impose a basically verismo
style onto Massenet’s more sweetly lyrical lines. Serre’s
smooth tones are more pleasant to listen to, but he does not give evidence
of much involvement with the text: “Hear ye, Israel,” he
proclaims, but his Ecoutez sounds almost apologetic, as if he
hesitates to trouble them.
To make up the full length of the concert, we are given a supplement
consisting of five excerpts from Massenet operas, described here as
“the sacred in the operas of Jules Massenet” - although
one might take leave to doubt this description in the case of the items
from Thaïs and Le jongleur de Notre Dame, neither
of which depict religion in a very positive light. The soloists here
reflect their work in the oratorio: Serre pleasant but rather bland,
Garayt showing decided signs of strain in the upper register, and d’Allonnes
soaring into Massenet’s melodies with all the considerable grace
and beauty at her command. She even inspires Serre to a more positive
show of emotion in the aria and duet from Thaïs. Presumably
to reflect the arrangements at the original concert, these operatic
excepts rather inconveniently precede the performance of the oratorio.
At least it allows d’Allonnes to get proceedings off to a rousing
start.
This issue is clearly intended for an exclusively French market: the
thirteen pages of the booklet (including the complete texts) are in
that language alone, with no translations whatsoever. The invaluable
ISMLP site contains not only a full score (a massive file to download)
but also three copies of the vocal score but none of these contain any
translations. Nor are there any subtitles provided: not altogether the
best manner in which to commemorate the death of the composer. To read
the French text is not difficult - most of the phrases anyway are familiar
from Biblical sources - but one also suspects the lingering influence
of the official Gaullist insistence from the 1960s that everybody in
the world should be made to speak the French language, especially Anglo-Saxons.
Nevertheless ‘Massenetistes’ - to quote Rodney Milnes’
delightfully manufactured word - will have to have this DVD for the
sake of the oratorio The promised land. It has some very fine
and original things in it even if the inspiration is uneven. Saint-Saëns
had a go at an oratorio on the same subject some fifteen years later
for the Three Choirs Festival - Richard Hickox gave a broadcast performance
of it in 2001 - but this Massenet work is generally far superior to
that rather academic score.
Paul Corfield Godfrey
Has some very fine and original things even if the inspiration is uneven.
Support
us financially by purchasing this disc from |
|
 |
 |
 |
 |