Jean-Baptiste LULLY (1632-1687)
  Amadis
  Hasnaa Bennani (soprano) - Corisande; Ingrid Perruche (soprano) - Arcabonne; Bénédicte Tauran (soprano) - Urgande; Virginie Thomas (soprano) - a burgess, a follower of Urgande; Judith van Wanroij (soprano) - Oriane; Caroline Weynants (soprano) - a follower of Urgande, a heroine, a captive, a burgess; Cyril Auvity (tenor) - Amadis; Reinoud Van Mechelen (tenor) - a captive, a burgher, a hero; Benoît Arnould (baritone) - Florestan; Pierrick Boisseau (baritone) - Alquif, Ardan Canile, a gaoler, a burgher; Edwin Crossley-Mercer (baritone) - Arcalaüs
  Choeur de Chambre de Namur; Les Talens Lyriques; Christophe Rousset
  rec. no details supplied
  APARTE AP094 [3 CDs: 42:46 + 64:58 + 56:21]
	    The work of Les Talens Lyriques under Christophe Rousset 
          has an enviable reputation. Their live recordings of French Baroque 
          operas - like this one made in Versailles itself - are becoming something 
          of a series of benchmarks. For all the exposure which this idiom has 
          received in the most recent generation of recordings, it may still in 
          part be alien to listeners.
          
          Against this background it can be argued that the greatest achievement 
          of Rousset and Les Talens Lyriques is to render this idiom truly enjoyable, 
          accessible and even immediate. Lully’s writing depended so much 
          on contemporary performance traditions; and ones that were accepted, 
          were specific to time and place and ones that brought together the strengths 
          and exigencies of text, spectacle and dance as well as music.
          
          Such a blend of idioms may seem mannered, even inward-facing. Not least 
          because of the circumstances attendant on the long-established and dominant 
          patronage of the royal court; Louis XIV chose the theme for Lully. No 
          doubt the formulae established by Lully and librettists Molière and 
          here Philippe Quinault allowed success to breed success.
          
          It’s necessary for a shrewd director - like Rousset - sensitively 
          to emphasise the particularities of the music of Amadis; not 
          of a ‘genre’ and - emphatically - not to let such a more 
          general approximation of the idiom elide the beauty, the penetrative 
          insights into human nature and the revelations which Amadis 
          itself consistently affords.
          
          He works intelligently to offer us its instrumentation; the subtleties 
          of its melody and harmony; the ways in which its rhythmic energy - including 
          Lully’s infamous dotted crotchets, which we hear from bar one 
          of the Overture - nevertheless deserve to be communicated as fresh and 
          significant. He succeeds. In this case, Rousset privileges the text 
          and the singers are closely miked. The inevitable passions and anxieties 
          of love elevated to a ‘code’ fit well in such a fast-moving 
          pace and framework as that built by Lully here.
          
          Amadis - or Amadis de Gaule as famously, and mercilessly, 
          parodied in Don Quixote - is a tragédie en musique 
          in a prologue and five acts. Quinault’s libretto uses Nicolas 
          Herberay des Essarts’ adaptation of Garci Rodríguez de Montalvo's 
          Amadis de Gaula. First performed at the Paris Opera at the 
          Théâtre du Palais-Royal in January 1684, it examines not a mythological 
          but a chivalric milieu - as was the trend in Lully’s 
          later operas.
          
          Limpness, contentment with the default, satisfaction with the letter 
          - rather than the spirit - of these formulae are all entirely absent 
          from Rousset’s enterprise here on these three CDs from Aparte. 
          Rather, Rousset’s approach is taut, exciting and full of the appropriate 
          momentum. Not, though, that he has distorted or adapted Lully’s 
          world in the 1680s.
          
          The singing is neither jaunty nor jolly. The enunciation neither precious 
          nor over-familiar. The solo and instrumental playing also displays appropriate 
          forward momentum without suggesting any spurious need to draw in the 
          listener by over-accentuation or by resorting needlessly to contrived 
          or forced phrasing.
          
          Amadis is a story of love and chivalry; and it’s potentially 
          quite complex if taken literally. The faithful love between Amadis (tenor 
          Cyril Auvity) and Oriane (soprano Judith van Wanroij) - resisted by 
          the sorcerer family of Arcabonne (soprano Ingrid Perruche) and Arcalaus 
          (baritone Edwin Crossley-Mercer) - is compared with that between Florestan 
          (baritone Benoît Arnould) and Corisande (soprano Hasnaa Bennani). These 
          singers all portray expertly and with enthusiasm both the personal/particular 
          concerns of their roles and their symbolic weight.
          
          Again, Rousset has his work cut out: political developments and the 
          need to make the best of Louis XIV’s morganatic marriage to Madame 
          de Maintenon the year before Amadis was written and staged 
          meant that the King’s image needed positively massaging. Such 
          tales as those in the already somewhat passé work of de Montalvo 
          were made to do the job for court and contemporary French audiences. 
          Rousset must make them speak to us too. The very slightly tempered - 
          yet never laborious - energy of singers, players and ensembles contributes 
          to our sense of … belonging, of participation in the experience.
          
          The acoustic has just enough resonance and richness to convey the sense 
          of how a work like this may have sounded originally. Yet the recording 
          concentrates on presenting it to us as listeners now. Another example 
          of that skill exhibited by Rousset in effectively rendering the praxes 
          of one age to our own sensibilities; and without compromising either. 
          The book with the CDs produced to Aparte’s usual high standards 
          has full text in French and English, synopsis, background to the recording 
          and libretto as well as entries about the ensembles, though only photographs 
          of the principals. This outstanding set goes far beyond that of La Simphonie 
          du Marais with Hugo Reyne on Accord 4428549 from 2006 in terms of insight, 
          technique, wholeness and musical richness. It should be snapped up by 
          anyone attracted to Lully, specifically this period and style; and superb 
          music-making in general.
          
          Mark Sealey
           
          Previous review: Ralph 
          Moore