Les Arts Florissants have gone the way of so many other ensembles
(including the London Symphony Orchestra, Glyndebourne and the Mariinsky) in
establishing their own recording label. We should be glad that they have
done so, not only because the performance captured here is so good, but
because they pull off the whole thing with such panache, style and élan that
the set is a visual as well as an auditory treat.
Christie and Les Arts Florissants are one of the most trusted teams in
early music - so far as that term has any meaning - and the conductor has
made an astute choice for their first edition on their own label.
Belshazzar is not one of Handel’s better known oratorios, but it’s
a magnificent piece, full of excellent music as well as lots of dramatic
flair. Most interesting of all is the role of Nicotris, Belshazzar’s mother,
who struggles between her faith in God and her wish to protect her son.
Handel also creates plenty of
coups de theâtre for the chorus,
whose role here is absolutely vital, and the constantly varying dramatic
structure keeps the whole thing going brilliantly. The climax comes with the
appearance of the writing on the wall, when Handel conjures up all of his
most evocative dramatic powers to depict first the hand and then Daniel’s
eerie interpretation of the words.
This studio recording came straight after some live performances at the
Salle Pleyel in Paris, so the whole crew know their roles inside out and
this comes across in the recording. Allan Clayton doesn’t have a huge amount
to do as Belshazzar himself. His warm, bright tenor sounds almost heroic at
times, so that his first, jovial aria doesn't quite fit with the
image of the doomed, hubristic Babylonian king. However, as the work
progressed I warmed to the way Clayton uses his vocal colour and agility to
suggest the king's impetuosity and lack of discipline. He does this
very effectively, nowhere more so than in his aria
Let the deep
bowl, just before the hand appears with the writing on the wall. Then
he veritably spits out his command to bring the soothsayers to read the
writing, and I loved the frenzied busyness of their subsequent entry music.
His final, brief appearance is effectively a mad scene, and Clayton does it
full justice. As his mother, Rosemary Joshua captures all of the character’s
contradictions and traumas. She gives a poignant, searching account of the
opening recitative and aria and is in impressive command of the coloratura
depicting the "furious driving wind" in
The leafy honours of
the field. Her repeated poignancy gives way to reconciliation with
Cyrus in the final act, bringing about a very satisfying duet with Caitlin
Hulcup, which is a highlight of the set. Hulcup herself is business-like in
her first aria and, great as is the music for her subsequent accompagnato,
her take on it was a tiny touch insipid. However, she is agile and
impressive for Cyrus' aria as he prepares to attack the city. There
is an inspiring nobility to her aria
O God of truth, as Cyrus
advances on Belshazzar. She also gives a thrilling rendition of her last act
arias.
Iestyn Davies is predictably superb as Daniel. He sings his opening aria
remarkably quietly, teasing out its meaning and drawing attention to
mankind's need to submit to divine providence. A similar sense of
devotion permeates his contemplation of God's word in
O sacred
oracles of truth. He is brilliant in the interpretation scene, and his
third act aria
Can the black Æthiop change his skin has a mocking
touch to it, dispelled in his noble rendition of the final hymns of praise
to God. I've never taken to Jonathan Lemalu's voice with as
much enthusiasm as others – to me, the gravel in the voice undermines its
beauty almost fatally – but I admit he makes a fair fist of the role of
Gobrias. His opening aria, eulogising his lost son, is rather beautiful, and
his brief aria in the final scene is compelling enough.
The orchestral playing is top notch throughout. The characteristic Les
Arts Florissants sound is on full display, full of pungent winds, lithe
strings and a vigorous approach to rhythms. Listen, to give one example, to
the busy basses in the
allegro section of overture, combining
Handel's contrapuntal rhythms with an unmistakably French sense of
style. The chorus are fantastic throughout. They bounce their way through
the first chorus of Babylonians deriding Cyrus' efforts at a siege.
They bring appropriate hymn-like solemnity to their frequent contemplations
of divine justice and mankind's place in the divine scheme. They are
very powerful in the great chorus
Recall, o King, when they warn
Belshazzar against using the sacred temple vessels, and the unaccompanied
opening section is particularly compelling. They are at their finest in the
multi-faceted passage at the start of Act 2, where chorus and semi-chorus
alternate to marvel at Cyrus' achievement in diverting the Euphrates,
and in the hymns to Cyrus at the end of Act 2 and start of Act 3. Presiding
over the whole thing, Christie brings his typical attention to detail to
bear on everything and allows the whole thing to breathe naturally and to
progress full of life. The project was his idea, and he ought to be
congratulated on bringing it to fruition so successfully.
The final, important selling point is the packaging. Christie states in
the booklet that his aim was to provide “not only pleasure to the ear but
also to the eye”, and he does so in a beautifully presented package that
includes a neat concertina box for the three CDs. The booklet is lavishly
illustrated with colour pictures and includes a scholarly introduction to
the work, some words from Christie about the genesis of the label, the
synopsis, libretto and cast biographies, all given in both English and
French. As an additional extravagance, there is also a whole additional
booklet containing a text from Jean Echenoz, giving his own take on ancient
Babylon, drawing on both Herodotus and the Biblical story. How heartening it
is to see someone still doing this in our digital age. Yes, you could
download it; but don’t. Shell out for the physical product and you won’t be
disappointed.
Simon Thompson
