Félicien DAVID (1810-1876)
Le Désert (1844)
Cyrille Dubois and Zachary Wilder (tenors)
Jean-Marie Winling (narrator)
Accentus; Orchestre de Chambre de Paris/Laurence Equilbey
rec. Cité de la Musique, Paris, May 2014
NAÏVE V5405 [45:01 + 49:12]
Le Désert is an unusual hybrid work that I hadn’t
come across before this disc came my way, but it’s well worth exploring
(see also the review
of the Capriccio recording). It’s officially an Ode-Symphonie,
a mixed genre work in the same ballpark as Berlioz's dramatic symphony,
Roméo et Juliette. Like that work, and many others of Berlioz, it’s
testimony to the all-pervasive importance of dramatic works in French repertoire
of the time and David was later to rise to the challenge of writing opera.
Le Désert remained his most popular work, to the extent that he could
never really escape from it. It consists of three scenes: a caravan approaching,
a nocturnal halt and sunrise the following day. However, there is no sense
of narrative or forward movement: instead the music encourages contemplation
before three scenes, like pictures in a gallery. Nor are there any characters,
just types that are brought to life by the chorus, singers and narrator. It’s
evocation rather than depiction.
This set makes a very convincing case for it, and allows you to choose how
you experience it: CD 2 gives you the version with narrator, CD 1 without,
so you can choose how you wish to enjoy it. I would opt for the narrator version,
however, at least the first time: you might as well get the full experience.
The booklet includes the full text and translation, so you can follow it as
closely as you like.
The long string notes of the opening conjure up the featureless landscape
of the desert itself. Other instruments gradually come in and evoke the various
sounds that drift across the silence. The work begins and ends with the vastness
of the desert but David also shows a nice knack for rhythm in the opening
chorus so that things never get dull or monotonous. You can even sense Berlioz,
specifically the opening March of L'Enfance du Christ, in
the perky approach of the caravan with its Arab-inflected sensibilities, or
even Act 4 of Les Troyens in the night music of the second part.
There is a lot of very direct nature painting, especially the sandstorm of
the first part (track 3): it’s neither subtle nor ingenious, but you
know squarely where you are.
The high tenor voice (very French) suits the heady mystery of the night scene
very well. There then follows a very attractive Arab dance with suitably exotic
sounding winds. Dawn is a great, prolonged crescendo, culminating in the Adhan,
the Islamic call to prayer, which David daringly sets in a phonetic version
of Arabic. You'd never mistake this French tenor for a genuine Muezzin
but the effect is exciting, and I found the Orientalism of the call to worship
very effective.
It’s interesting that the work gets the chamber orchestra and chamber
choir treatment, and fitted it very well, to my ears. The chorus of the desert
itself sounds strangely human, even a little vulnerable, rather than overwhelming.
That’s totally appropriate for the contemplation
of man's place in the vastness of his surroundings. Equilbey seems
to shun vibrato and brings out the 19th century style of winds — in
fact, it reminded me a bit of the sound of McCreesh's
period Berlioz Requiem — so this pretty much sounds like a period
performance and is none the worse for it. It also comes across as very French,
not least in the intonation of the choir and the juicy intonation of the two
tenors which nicely places the performance in a sort of unbroken line of continuation
with its origin. It’s very fitting and very satisfying, and it’s
well worth exploring, especially as you're unlikely to hear a live
performance of it any time soon in the English-speaking lands. This disc makes
about as persuasive a case for it as I could imagine.
Simon Thompson
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