Lalo was accused by his contemporaries of succumbing to Wagnerian
influences in the second of his two operas. In truth apart from
the occasional use of leitmotive there is nothing very
Wagnerian in this work, certainly not in the sense we hear in
works such as d’Indy’s Fervaal. Instead the
lineage seems to derive from French grand opera in the
tradition of Berlioz’s Troyens, albeit at considerably
shorter length. Lalo effectively wrote the score twice, destroying
an earlier version, and the opera had a considerable initial
success. However in recent years it has fallen out of the repertory
even in France, and so far as I am aware this is only its fourth
complete recording in the modern era and the only one currently
available - both (as here) on CD and also on DVD. There was
also a complete set on 78s recorded in 1943, which I have never
heard. Apart from the overture, and Mylio’s lightweight
aubade from the last Act - a popular favourite with lyric tenors
- the work is therefore nowadays almost totally unknown.
It really is a very good piece, full of excitement as well as
the good tunes that one would expect from the composer of the
ever-popular Symphonie espagnole. The plot derives from
the same Breton legend that inspired Debussy’s The
sunken cathedral, the destruction of the city of Ys when
it sank beneath the waves. Here the catastrophe is attributed
to the rivalry between two sets of lovers, the tenor and soprano
pitted against the villainous mezzo and baritone who let the
waters in to drown their enemies. Lalo is certainly a very much
more dramatic composer than his younger contemporary Gounod.
In the score he proudly points out several places where he has
used Breton folk tunes to suggest local colour, although it
must be said that they don’t sound very different to his
own music which surrounds them.
The sound on this live recording is not at all bad, immediate
and with plenty of presence although the substantial overture
suffers from a rather enclosed theatrical acoustic - but there
are plenty of alternative recordings of the overture which have
a more generous reverberation. The playing of the orchestra
is excellent, although the lengthy round of applause at the
end could have been edited down to advantage. The choir are
not of the best; in their opening chorus of rejoicing they substitute
a diminuendo (at 1.00) for Lalo’s carefully marked
crescendo to f which obviates the contrasting
quieter passage which follows. At the end of this chorus the
score indicates that the sound should fade into the distance,
but here the choir are all too palpably still present.
In the duet which follows we hear the two principal female singers.
Guylaine Girard is a very positive heroine, but the contralto-ish
Giuseppina Piunti shows signs of strain on her higher notes.
The women’s chorus, who then return, do not give much
pleasure; they sound ragged and the melodic charm is lost. When
he first enters, one suspects that Sébastien Guèze
may not give much pleasure either, but he soon settles down
and delivers some nice phrasing as well as richly rounded high
notes. Later, in her big scene at the beginning of the Second
Act, Piunti’s sense of strain becomes positively unpleasant;
she may be the villain of the piece, but she doesn’t have
to sound as nasty as this.
Eric Martin-Bonnet is far from satisfactory in the part of the
King; he almost immediately comes in on the wrong note - A instead
of C (at CD 1, track 6, 0.58), although he corrects himself
after half a bar - and he sounds strained on his high E flat
shortly thereafter, which is unfortunate as he has quite a few
of them to sing. Oddly enough by his side Werner van Mechelen
sounds more resonantly bass-like, but he has the range to reach
his generally higher tessitura until he is confronted
with a high F (CD 1, track 7, 0.43), which sounds decidedly
beyond his comfort zone. He seems similarly incommoded
by later high notes (as at CD 2, track 2, 2.52).Throughout
one notes how much of Lalo’s writing for his bass and
baritone soloists seems to lie above the staff, and the duet
between Mechelen and Piunti is not pleasant to listen to.
The appearance of St Corentin (CD 2, track 3) brings a good
solid performance from Léonard Graus (offstage) but his
menaces could have been more terrifying if he had been better
amplified. At the beginning of the Third Act Marc Tissons also
sounds strained by his high notes, even though the chorus sound
more secure than hitherto. Sébastien Guèze, who
has been nicely heroic in the Second Act, sounds ill at ease
in his famous serenade; this has been more persuasively sung
elsewhere, although Guèze is clearly trying to be delicate
in his approach and he floats his final high A very pleasantly.
Lalo goes overboard in his depiction of the drowning of the
city, but it is a pity that - presumably for staging reasons
- Patrick Davin employs Lalo’s optional full close to
the First Tableau in the last Act, which he states specifically
is only for use “in theatres who are unable to effect
the change of scene.” The final Tableau is accompanied
by the sound of rushing flood water which is obviously dramatically
appropriate, but as a sound effect is goes on for too long;
and at the same time we are not given the roars of thunder which
are specified in the score. The cessation of the sound
of flood water for the final bars is slightly startling, but
Guèze gives us a nice ringing top C to end with (in the
other sets mentioned below, we get this from Vanzo but reprehensibly
not from Villa).
The first LP recording of Le Roi d’Ys was conducted
by André Cluytens with a cast including Janine Micheau,
Rita Gorr and Henri Legay, but the 1955 mono sound, which also
suffers from a very dead acoustic, cannot begin to do justice
to Lalo’s orchestral palette although it was once available
on CD. The first stereo recording from EMI, conducted by Pierre
Dervaux in 1973, had the advantage of Alain Vanzo and Robert
Massard in the two principal male roles but suffered from some
gusty singing in the leading female parts; I have not heard
this recording for some years, although I believe it also was
available on CD at one stage. The second set from Erato, which
I purchased at the time of its original issue in 1990 and still
own, had considerably better singing on the female side from
Barbara Hendricks and Dolores Ziegler, but on the other hand
Édouard Villa and Marcel Vanaud were inferior to their
predecessors as the two male protagonists although Armin Jordan
conducted with vigour. All of these were recordings made in
the studio. The Erato set also had a full libretto and translation;
Dynamic make a French and English text available online, but
the booklet notes with the CDs come only in English and (oddly)
Italian rather than French.
One is always grateful to Patrick Davin for his sterling work
in reviving neglected French repertoire, and in the absence
of an alternative CD version from the catalogue (or any other
DVD version at all) this set deserves a welcome; and it may
look better on DVD than it sounds here, although the staging
appears to be updated to the Victorian era. But as an audio
version it can be little more than a stop-gap until the Erato
set re-appears, which it surely must; the recorded sound there
(from French radio studios) is much more attractive than the
somewhat dead theatrical acoustic here, and the singing - particularly
from the women - is better too.
Paul Corfield Godfrey
See also DVD review by Göran
Forsling
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