Since a few years
ago I can no longer think of the phrase ‘Belle Époque’ without
that throwaway pun of Graeme Garden’s about what to ask for at
La Troisième République butcher’s shop: “I’ll have a pound
of belly pork, please…” With that out of the way, we can get down
to business.
The ‘Belle Époque’
or ‘Beautiful Era’ can be said to represent that part of the
late 1800s up to the beginning of the First World War which
was inhabited by rich and aristocratic patrons of the arts who
haunted the salons of Paris. Vocal music, mélodies and
romances were a popular part of this salon repertoire,
as was operetta. The literary aspects of this fin de siècle
wave of fashion in the arts also brought symbolist writers such
as Paul Verlaine and Baudelaire into contact with composers
such as Fauré and Debussy, and collaborations and the flow of
ideas between such artists was inevitable.
The
concept of the salon is central to this release, as the informative
but song-text free booklet notes reveal: “The
recordings on this album are not studio or concert-hall recordings.
Instead they attempt to represent a salon performance. They were made in a private house with a domestic-sized
piano and a single pair of microphones.” Such an unsympathetic
environment for the singing voice might seem to be a brave choice,
but listening to this recording and I get the distinct impression
that some tweaking has gone on in production. The piano sounds
convincingly domestic, a little woolly in the treble, tubby in
the middle and light in the bass. I shall probably risk the ire
of some unnamed technician or producer, but Corinne Orde’s soprano
seems to have been ‘helped’ a little with some added reverb –
admittedly kept well down so that you might not notice if you’re
not really listening, but ultimately resulting in an interesting
chimera; a singer in the Sydney Opera bathroom, and a piano in
the broom cupboard. The technical problems don’t stop here either.
Take that funny noise at 0:28-0:30 in L’ombre des arbres and
every sound technician will probably tell you that some kind of
socket been put under stress. I’m sure I hear a car revving outside
at one or two points, and not all of the edits are that wonderful
either – 0:49 into Debussy’s Green, come on. The
piano sound is very strange at times as well – just listen to
the opening to the subsequent Spleen and tell me where
all that funny phasing is coming from – there are a number of
places where it sounds like Harold Budd’s kind of piano. I don’t
want to carp on however, and promise to take deep breaths and
find my inner triangle henceforth.
Presented
with such a wealth of material, I usually gravitate toward the
songs I know the best, having heard many performances of works
such as Debussy’s Il pleure dans mon Coeur and the
Chansons de Bilitis, the kinds of repertoire which is bread
and butter to the singing department at the Conservatoire for
whom I fix all of the lunchtime concerts. Despite my tendency
to be pedestrian about quirky production details, duo Orde and
Cohen aren’t half bad. Even putting up with the woolly piano,
you can hear that Jonathan Cohen is no hack when it comes to accompanying,
and even though the two musicians sound as if they are in separate
rooms their synergy is close and comfortingly sympathetic. Corinne
Orde’s voice may not be in the top league, and has a silvery edge
over a slightly jowly colouration, but as she states, “A
large or heavy voice would probably not marry well with the underlying
liquid and delicate piano textures [in Debussy]” and in this we
agree. Having become used to her sound, and accepted any fragilities,
one starts to appreciate her nimble way around the tricky melodic
lines in something like Fauré’s Green – she stays impeccably
in tune the whole time, and almost entirely avoids reaching toward
the notes, hitting them on the nose with considerable accuracy;
a quality which I find beyond price. I’m not so keen on that vibrato
which develops halfway through notes, but on the subject of Orde’s
vibrato I find its lightness appropriate to the repertoire, and
as she uses it sensitively, selectively and expressively I can’t
really grumble on a point of taste. Her French is a little straight,
but reasonably idiomatic.
There are a number
of recordings of songs by Fauré, notably the excellent ongoing
Hyperion series with Graham Johnson accompanying a variety of
singers. The collected Mélodies of Debussy sung by Elly
Ameling and others on EMI are also worth seeking out if you are
looking for a complete set. Even with this two CD release coming
in at something around mid-price I can’t give it a full recommendation,
but if the theme and philosophy behind the programming and production
attract then it certainly won’t have you running for the hills
with the screaming horrors.
Dominy Clements
Corinne Orde
(soprano) 
