Frédéric LEDROIT (b 1968)
La Passion selon Saint-Jean (St John Passion), Op 56
Cristina Obregon (soprano), Gaelle Malada (mezzo-soprano), Clara Pertuy (contralto), Alessandro Rinella (tenor), Bernard Causse (baritone)
Chamber Choir of Europe
Staatsphilharmonie Rheinland-Pfalz/Robert Reimer
rec. 2018, Philharmonie, Ludwigshafen, Germany
Text and translation included
SKARBO DSK2194 [77:15]
Frédéric Ledroit is in his early fifties and is perhaps best known to British listeners as an organist of no little distinction. He was born in Angoulême where he has worked as the cathedral organist for many years. He has recorded a good deal for Skarbo in the past – for example there is a cycle of Charles Widor’s numbered Organ Symphonies (performed on a selection of French instruments) as well as three discs dedicated to the works of Joseph Bonnet. Ledroit’s own Requiem, Op 50 (scored for solo voices, choir, piano and organs) was premiered at La Madelaine in Paris; a disc of the work appeared on Skarbo in 2013. He is clearly something of a house figure as far as the label is concerned.
In his very brief (and roughly translated) note for the present disc, Ledroit states that he began work on this St John Passion more or less immediately after the completion of his Requiem. The Passion requires much larger forces than its predecessor: five vocal soloists, double choir and a big orchestra. Although he gives very little else away, he does explain that the role of the Evangelist involves three different female voices, starting with the lowest (the contralto Clara Pertuy) and proceeding as the work progresses to the highest (soprano Cristina Obregon). For the listener the sense of the music very gradually ascending the heights becomes ever more tangible – indeed in the note Ledroit alludes to Dante’s descent into hell before his eventual arrival in Paradise. From what I could derive from following the text, the tenor Alessandro Rinella takes on the role of Jesus while the bass Bernard Causse assumes the part of Pilate. The choir transforms into the ever-changing multitudes.
In structural terms the Passion comprises an extended orchestral prelude and fourteen briefer sections including two strategically deployed orchestral interludes. It incorporates the traditional Gospel narrative, though a setting of the Agnus Dei is interpolated at the conclusion of the seventh section ‘Voici l’homme’ (Behold, the man) and the penultimate number is a rather moving setting for soprano and orchestra of ‘O Mère, Source d’Amour’ a touching 13th century prayer attributed to Brother Jacopone de Todi. The whole work lasts just shy of eighty minutes.
So what does it sound like? The orchestral prelude at its outset is terse and rather modal, although Ledroit certainly doesn’t run away from dissonance. In fact his orchestral writing struck me as being most accomplished, especially in terms of the vivid percussion, notably the xylophone, whose theatrical textures punctuate key moments throughout the work and the timpani, which are pretty omnipresent. The twelfth section, Ténèbres (Darkness) is a simultaneously spooky and moving panel with some especially imaginative writing for bass-clarinet. If stylistic influences become more apparent as the work proceeds, the presence of Arthur Honegger, the composer of countless gargantuan choral frescoes, is never far away. There is a rhythmic tread to the bass in Ledroit’s score which never seems to let up.
If the orchestra seem completely on top of the notes and the idiom, the choral singing of the Chamber Choir of Eorope seems less secure, but the dense counterpoint, piquant harmony and incessant drama conveyed by Ledroit’s music render this score anything but easy, and if they sound a little under-rehearsed in the early numbers they seem to warm up and increase in confidence as the Passion proceeds. As for the solo singing, although the commitment and integrity of all five soloists is never in doubt there an inconsistency in quality. I have a good deal of sympathy for the three female ‘Evangelists’ as there is little if any let-up in the intensity of their parts (or in the pace of the piece as a whole). All three encounter moments of strain, the mezzo Gaelle Malada and the soprano Cristina Obregon (despite rather excessive use of vibrato in the latter stages of the work) seem to cope best. The tenor and bass inevitably come off better – they have considerably less to do.
The recording is OK but far from pristine. There are moments where voices (both solo and choral) get swamped by orchestral tutti or baying brass. I also detected odd moments of unevenness in the balance which could only have materialised through the engineering; an example of this is at one point during the seventh section ‘Voici l’homme’ when instrumental volume seems to increase arbitrarily mid-phrase. I suppose my main problem with Ledroit’s Passion is its sheer relentlessness. I know the Crucifixion is an extremely serious affair, but moments of repose and opportunities for reflection are few and far between – there is a real lack of variation in the spirit, texture and pace of this work that I suspect some will find prohibitive.
Having said that, there can be no doubt whatsoever of the sincerity of Ledroit’s vision and the fine craftsmanship underlying much of the writing. There is palpable commitment among the performers, and that the entire edifice generates such momentum and coherence is surely a tribute to the conductor Robert Reimer. Curious listeners (especially those sympathetic to an updated Honeggerian aesthetic) should give Ledroit’s St John Passion a go.
Richard Hanlon
