Given the current state of parts of the recording 
                industry it’s no great surprise (but a disappointment, nonetheless) 
                that so few CDs have been issued to mark the bi-centenary of the 
                birth of Hector Berlioz. This present, fascinating disc is not 
                new, as the recording dates confirm. In fact it was previously 
                issued by Harmonia Mundi (HMC 90 1542). Its return to the catalogue 
                at super budget price is very welcome. 
              
 
              
Keith Anderson’s valuable liner note explains 
                that the Prix de Rome was established in the Napoleonic era. The 
                prize was most attractive for the winning composer was enabled 
                to stay for two years in the Villa Medici in Rome where he could 
                devote himself to study and composition in ideal surroundings. 
                I think Mr. Anderson is putting it mildly when he comments that 
                there was "a conservative formality about the Prix." 
                In fact, when judging entries the French musical establishment 
                seems to have gone out of its collective way to favour tradition, 
                adherence to textbook principles and convention at the expense 
                of innovation, flair and imagination. In particular, those candidates 
                who made it through to the second and final round of the competition 
                were faced with rules, which were as strict as they were restrictive. 
                Second round candidates were required to compose a vocal scena 
                to a set text within a period of 25 days during which they were 
                effectively confined to their quarters. To judge by the texts 
                of the works recorded here the words alone would have been sufficient 
                to stifle enterprise. In short, this was just the sort of scenario 
                likely to be least conducive to success by a maverick like Berlioz. 
                However, this did not prevent him from entering the contest five 
                times. 
              
 
              
When he first entered in 1826 he didn’t even 
                get through to the second, compositional round. What we have here 
                are the entries that he submitted in the second round over the 
                following four years. His 1827 effort, La Mort d’Orphée 
                did not impress the judges but in the following year Herminie 
                gained him the second prize. By established precedent Berlioz 
                could have confidently expected that the award to him of second 
                prize would be an assurance of victory the following year. However, 
                the judges in 1829 found La Mort de Cléopâtre 
                excessively bold and it was not until 1830 that Berlioz finally 
                tasted victory. 
              
 
              
Given the conditions of the competition perhaps 
                it should not surprise us that none of the works on this CD represent 
                Berlioz at his very best. Having said that there is still much 
                here to stir the interest of the listener. 
              
 
              
La Mort d’Orphée (track 4) opens 
                with some characteristically transparent nature painting in the 
                orchestra (the sound-world of the Royal Hunt and Storm 
                is not too far away). From his very first entry tenor Daniel Galvez 
                Vallejo commands attention. He has an ideal voice for French heroic 
                repertoire, silver-toned and with a splendid ring. He has just 
                the right degree of nasal tone (but not too much) to produce the 
                forward projection and heady clarity which the French language 
                requires of singers. I should love to hear him in some of Berlioz’s 
                great tenor roles. 
              
 
              
As to the music, the dissonant brass chords before 
                the Bacchanale begins (track 4, 6’29") would, alone, be sufficient 
                to explain why the piece failed to find favour with the judges. 
                The Bacchanale itself foreshadows the amazing music of La Damnation 
                de Faust. Here Berlioz whips up a real musical storm, departing 
                from the set text in the process. The purely orchestral ending 
                is a marvellous early example of Berlioz’s extraordinary and original 
                mastery of orchestration. The piece as a whole is uneven but fascinating. 
              
 
              
Herminie and La Mort de Cléopâtre 
                have been reasonably well served in the recording studio, 
                not least by Dame Janet Baker who recorded both, thrillingly, 
                as part of Sir Colin Davis’s Philips Berlioz cycle. Herminie 
                begins with a familiar sound – the theme that was to become 
                the idée fixe of the Symphonie Fantastique. It 
                appears first on the violins but recurs at several other points 
                during the piece. Michèle Lagrange is a splendid, passionate 
                soloist. She has a vibrant chest register which she employs to 
                good effect in her opening recitative. The upper register of her 
                voice is no less impressive. She has three short arias to sing, 
                each preceded by a short recitative. I wouldn’t say that any of 
                this music is especially memorable, though Lagrange sings with 
                impressive fervour and makes a fine job of the whole work. She 
                is especially effective (and affecting) in the closing Prière 
                (track 1 from 15’31"), which comprises, by some distance, 
                the best music in the piece. The text for this section is pretty 
                second rate but Berlioz transforms it with supplicatory music 
                in which emotion is barely suppressed. Unfortunately the closing 
                lines of the text lead him to write a more overtly dramatic conclusion, 
                which isn’t really convincing. (I doubt Berlioz himself was convinced.) 
              
 
              
La Mort de Cléopâtre is the 
                most familiar of these four works. As I’ve mentioned, Berlioz 
                must have expected to win the prize that year but it was not to 
                be. His piece disturbed the judges and in the end they did not 
                award a prize at all in 1829. In this performance Béatrice 
                Uria-Monzon is just as effective a soloist as her two colleagues. 
                She has a full tone and is capable of producing some melting quiet 
                notes as well as projecting strongly and dramatically when required. 
                Once again, the piece contains premonitions of music to come: 
                for example, the soloist has a phrase (track 2, 4’17"), which 
                listeners will recognise from the Roman Carnival overture. 
                It is heard again later in the piece. The climax is the Méditation 
                in which Cleopatra contemplates her approaching self-inflicted 
                death (track 2, from 9’37"). Here both the vocal line and 
                the orchestral accompaniment are vivid, superbly histrionic and 
                highly original. With hindsight it’s easy to understand that this 
                music would have disconcerted the judges (goodness knows what 
                they made of the spare and desolate last few pages.) The performance 
                on this disc is excellent and burns with conviction. 
              
 
              
La Mort de Sardanapale was the work with 
                which Berlioz finally achieved his goal. Unfortunately, and ironically, 
                the score is the only one of his four entries, which has not survived 
                – Berlioz destroyed it – but a fragment was later found. This 
                surviving element is recorded here, prefaced by a recitation of 
                the second and third verses of the set aria (the reciter is uncredited.) 
                Daniel Galvez Vallejo is once again a most effective soloist. 
                The fragment is really too brief to permit any significant evaluation 
                of the music but it’s good to have it included. 
              
 
              
I’m conscious that I’ve mentioned the music and 
                the soloists but have neglected the other performers. The chorus 
                sings well and the orchestral playing is very good indeed. Jean-Claude 
                Casadesus (the nephew of the pianist, Robert Casadesus, I believe) 
                conducts with taste, vigour and flair and seems to have a very 
                good instinct for Berlioz style. The recorded sound is first rate. 
                The notes, as I’ve indicated, are both interesting and informative 
                (they’re supplied in English and German) and Naxos also supply 
                full French texts with English translation. 
              
 
              
As an ardent admirer of the music of Berlioz 
                I’m ashamed to admit that I missed these recordings first time 
                round so I am delighted to be able to welcome them back to the 
                catalogue. Any lover of this brilliantly individual composer should 
                investigate this issue without delay. 
              
 
              
A splendid and enterprising issue, which usefully 
                expands our understanding of Berlioz. This CD is well worth seeking 
                out and I recommend it heartily. 
              
John Quinn 
              
See also review 
                by John Phillips