Rameau came to fame
at the age of fifty, with his first
opera Hippolyte et Aricie which
was premiered in 1733. So at a time
when his contemporary Handel was abandoning
opera for oratorio, Rameau found himself,
for the next twenty years, presenting
around twenty more operatic productions.
To the French musical establishment,
those supportive of the operas of Lully,
Rameau’s music was daring and unorthodox;
music to move the emotions as compared
to Lully’s music to move the senses.
Rameau’s choice of subject matter was
no less unorthodox. His second opera,
Castor et Pollux, took as its
subject matter the love and friendship
between two brothers, rather than the
more common romantic love.
Castor et Pollux
was first performed in 1737 and had
a successful run of 21 performances.
It was revived in 1754 in a significantly
modified form. For this revival, Rameau
and his librettist (Pierre-Joseph Bernard)
dropped the rather old-fashioned mythological
prologue and replaced it by a new Act
I. The remainder of the opera was tautened.
In the 1737 version,
the brothers Castor and Pollux are both
in love with the same woman, Télaïre.
In this new version, Castor and Télaïre
are in love, but she is betrothed to
Pollux. Pollux gives her up to his brother,
but Castor is killed in battle. Pollux
ultimately appeals to their father Jupiter,
to restore Castor. Jupiter does so,
on condition that Pollux replaces him
in Hades. Castor agrees to return to
land of the living for just one day,
to tell Télaïre that he
cannot take up Pollux’s offer. Finally
the Fates and Jupiter relent and the
brothers are granted immortality.
For their recordings,
both Nicolas Harnoncourt (on Teldec)
and William Christie (on Harmonia Mundi)
chose the 1737 version. So far the 1754
version has been represented in the
catalogue by the intermittently available
recording by Charles Farncombe on Erato
and by a recording of the chamber version
of this opera by Musique de Lumières
on Audivis. So it is pleasing to have
this additional performance of Rameau’s
final thoughts on the opera, recorded
by the Canadian based Aradia ensemble.
That this performance is available at
super-budget price on Naxos is an added
advantage.
Act I opens with Phébé
(Meredith Hall) lamenting to her confidant
Cléoné (Reneé Winick)
that Castor prefers Télaïre
to her. Hall has a lovely soprano voice
and the opening scene is a winningly
stately number. Phébé’s
rival, Télaïre is played
by Monica Whicher. She also has a fine
voice, but there were hints of strain
in the upper registers. The part of
Castor was written for a haut-contre
(a high tenor part that sits somewhere
between tenor and alto and requires
great flexibility in the upper register),
a voice type that is now more common
but which is still tricky. Colin Ainsworth
has a creditably bright voice with a
fine flexible technique though there
was just the hint of strain in the upper
registers. He does not always sound
completely comfortable in Castor’s more
brilliant music. As his brother Pollux,
Joshua Hopkins has a warm baritone voice.
The chorus suffer from the rather resonant
acoustic in which the opera seems to
have been recorded. The resultant sound
lacks focus and is rather untidy. All
the singers have a good grasp of Rameau’s
style, but for most of this Act, I found
the recitative was taken at rather too
stately a pace. I prefer a slightly
swifter delivery with greater emphasis
on flexibility.
With Castor’s death
we progress to Act II and one of the
most famous and moving scenes in the
opera, where the participants lament
Castor’s death. Opening with a sombre
and affecting chorus it leads to Télaïre’s
aria Tristes apprêts with
its lovely bassoon obbligato. Unfortunately
Whicher’s fine performance, with its
good grasp of the music’s underlying
emotions, suffers a little as the sense
of line, which is so necessary in this
slow music, is marred by an occasionally
too intrusive vibrato.
Act III opens with
Pollux alone, offering a sacrifice to
Jupiter in the name of friendship. Hopkins’
is most moving here, but his ornamentation
is not always ideal. When his father
Jupiter (bass-baritone Giles Tomkins)
appears the two baritones combine in
powerful duet. Jupiter calls on the
celestial pleasures to show Pollux what
he will lose if he goes to Hades – cue
for one of Rameau’s lovely choral dance
scenes, only marred by untidy choral
work. Here, and throughout the recording,
the Aradia ensemble accompany in crisp,
flexible manner and deliver Rameau’s
myriad dance movements with a sense
of infectious style.
At the entrance to
Hades, in Act IV, the chorus of demons
sounds a little flabby and rather less
than monstrous, but Hall’s Phébé
is lovely, with a good sense of style.
Finally Castor reappears sounding a
little over-careful (understandable,
perhaps, if you’ve been whisked to Hades
and back). Here, as elsewhere, I wished
for a greater sense of freedom and flexibility.
Finally, in Act V, Castor and Télaïre
meet up again and their powerful duet
is interrupted by Jupiter’s thunder,
to stunning effect, until all ends happily
as expected.
This recording has
a fine sense of Rameau’s style and the
Aradia ensemble is always a pleasure
to listen to. If some of the soloists
are a little less than ideal, we have
probably been spoiled by the sterling
work of William Christie. More problematic,
is the lack of freedom and flexibility
of delivery; one of the glories of Rameau’s
music is the way he blends the boundaries
between recitative, arioso and aria,
but this requires a good suppleness
of delivery. Still, all the singers
have a creditable feel for this music
and it is lovely to hear it being sung
with voices rather bigger than those
preferred by Christie and others.
At super-budget price
I can have no hesitation in recommending
this recording. It is a good place to
start if you do not know Rameau’s fascinating
operas. And if you do, it is a good
way to fill in a gap.
Robert Hugill
See also review
by Jonathan Woolf
Opera in Concert