Rameau - Hippolyte et Aricie
Théâtre des Champs Elysées, Paris, Sunday May 26 2019.
Conductor: Emmanuelle Haïm. Aricie: Mélissa Petit. Hippolyte: Cyrille Dubois. Phèdre: Stéphanie D’Oustrac. Thésée: Edwin Crossley-Mercer. Pluton / Neptune: Wenwei Zhang. Diane: Hamida Kristoffersen. Œnone: Aurélia Legay. Première Parque: Nicholas Scott. Seconde Parque, Tisiphone: Spencer Lang. Troisième Parque: Alexander Kiechle. Une Prêtresse de Diane, Une Matelote, Une Chasseresse: Gemma Ní Bhriain. Orchestra La Scintilla Zurich. Chorus of the Zurich Opera.
The cast for this concert performance of Hippolyte comes fresh from staged performances in Zurich in a production that, from what I’ve seen online, looks very striking. Perhaps rehearsal time in Paris was too short for the singers to take possession of the narrow strip of stage left to them and fully adjust to the restricted theatrical potential of the concert: I expected more sustained dramatic thrust and tension. In the event, it was somehow intermittent, with moments that had more of a “plain, vanilla” feel to them. Nevertheless, this was a very fine performance, one that could easily be issued as a recording, and any reservations in what follows will be more quibbles than complaints.
Overall, I’m glad to say that the cast excluded, even in the lesser roles, the voiceless wonders sometimes dished up in “HIP” performances of baroque works. Gemma Ní Bhriain sang and even acted, as far as they allowed, her supporting parts well and, more importantly, the Parques, in some recordings I’ve heard very dodgy indeed, especially in the chromatic second trio (a real highlight as far as I’m concerned), were thankfully strong, though Nicholas Scott’s piercing high tenor risked at times covering his partners. Better that, though, than someone faint and bleating, straining for the notes. Hamida Kristoffersen, a straight-backed, regal presence as Diane, was variable, more convincing in her first intervention than her last. Aurélia Legay was, on the other hand, an excellent Oenone, firm and round-toned.
Wenwei Zhang’s Pluton and Neptune came across as relatively brutal in contrast with Edwin Crossley-Mercer’s ever-elegant nobility as Thésée (and in concert, having one person singing both roles was potentially confusing in terms of the plot) but the contrast was dramatically fitting.
Stéphanie d’Oustrac has matured over the years into a very fine, subtle artist. I think I’d personally prefer to hear a darker, graver kind of voice in the role of Phèdre, but d’Oustrac’s singing was, leaving that aside, magnificent, perhaps focused more exclusively on vocal beauty in ‘Cruelle mère des amours’, but with greater and welcome dramatic abandon in ‘Quelle plainte en ces lieux m’appelle ?’, surely one of Rameau’s most magnificent scenes. A detail: she looked wonderful in slender, one-shouldered black.
Mélissa Petit’s voice is small and sweet and impeccable, but this meant her Aricie was a touch pallid - especially in contrast with Cyrille Dubois’ ardent, urgent Hippolyte. But it was only once Dubois had appeared that the evening really got going. It was as if, every time he confronted another character, his ardour became infectious and galvanised his partners. As a result, duets with him were Mélissa Petit’s finest moments. His diction, like d’Oustrac’s, made it easy to follow without looking at the surtitles.
We’re used, in Paris, to French-based baroque ensembles like Les Arts Florissants, Les Talens Lyriques or indeed Emmanuelle Haïm’s own group, Le Concert d'Astrée. It took me a while to adjust to the different sound, as if more used to playing Bach or Händel, which well they might be, of La Scintilla, which struck me as more homogenous and less incisive and ‘piquant’ than the French bands. Their virtuoso playing was, though, remarkably fluid and supple, even allowing individual voices to sound, and Haïm made the most of their dynamic range and responsiveness, largely but not always at moderate tempi.
[An aside. I must say I was surprised recently to see someone in an online forum write ‘I want to like Haim but she confuses period with slow!’ That has never occurred to me. And while I’m on asides, I was also surprised to see that anyone can still write, as in a blog I came across this morning, something like this: 'Hippolyte et Aricie at the Opera House Zurich is a convincing and beautiful opera experience. The work though will remain side-repertory mainly interesting for lovers of baroque opera and absolute opera experts (=freaks).']
The ladies of the Zurich Opera chorus sang with unaccustomed (these days and in this repertoire) vibrato, obscuring the text, but other than that, the chorus was one of the highlights of the evening.
In all, this was a very sound performance, if not consistently exciting or as moving as it might be. ‘Ça ne vit pas,’ said my neighbour, less happy than I: it isn’t quite coming to life. However, the reception was noisy: loud clapping, eventually rhythmic, with cries of ‘bravo’ firing off on all sides. I had the odd sense that a claque was at work, so sudden and loud were the outbursts, as if a whole bunch of friends and colleagues had come along for the ride from Zurich. But Haïm looked absolutely thrilled: for her, it was a triumph.
Conductor: Emmanuelle Haïm. Aricie: Mélissa Petit. Hippolyte: Cyrille Dubois. Phèdre: Stéphanie D’Oustrac. Thésée: Edwin Crossley-Mercer. Pluton / Neptune: Wenwei Zhang. Diane: Hamida Kristoffersen. Œnone: Aurélia Legay. Première Parque: Nicholas Scott. Seconde Parque, Tisiphone: Spencer Lang. Troisième Parque: Alexander Kiechle. Une Prêtresse de Diane, Une Matelote, Une Chasseresse: Gemma Ní Bhriain. Orchestra La Scintilla Zurich. Chorus of the Zurich Opera.
Overall, I’m glad to say that the cast excluded, even in the lesser roles, the voiceless wonders sometimes dished up in “HIP” performances of baroque works. Gemma Ní Bhriain sang and even acted, as far as they allowed, her supporting parts well and, more importantly, the Parques, in some recordings I’ve heard very dodgy indeed, especially in the chromatic second trio (a real highlight as far as I’m concerned), were thankfully strong, though Nicholas Scott’s piercing high tenor risked at times covering his partners. Better that, though, than someone faint and bleating, straining for the notes. Hamida Kristoffersen, a straight-backed, regal presence as Diane, was variable, more convincing in her first intervention than her last. Aurélia Legay was, on the other hand, an excellent Oenone, firm and round-toned.
Wenwei Zhang’s Pluton and Neptune came across as relatively brutal in contrast with Edwin Crossley-Mercer’s ever-elegant nobility as Thésée (and in concert, having one person singing both roles was potentially confusing in terms of the plot) but the contrast was dramatically fitting.
Stéphanie d’Oustrac has matured over the years into a very fine, subtle artist. I think I’d personally prefer to hear a darker, graver kind of voice in the role of Phèdre, but d’Oustrac’s singing was, leaving that aside, magnificent, perhaps focused more exclusively on vocal beauty in ‘Cruelle mère des amours’, but with greater and welcome dramatic abandon in ‘Quelle plainte en ces lieux m’appelle ?’, surely one of Rameau’s most magnificent scenes. A detail: she looked wonderful in slender, one-shouldered black.
Mélissa Petit’s voice is small and sweet and impeccable, but this meant her Aricie was a touch pallid - especially in contrast with Cyrille Dubois’ ardent, urgent Hippolyte. But it was only once Dubois had appeared that the evening really got going. It was as if, every time he confronted another character, his ardour became infectious and galvanised his partners. As a result, duets with him were Mélissa Petit’s finest moments. His diction, like d’Oustrac’s, made it easy to follow without looking at the surtitles.
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| Rameau |
[An aside. I must say I was surprised recently to see someone in an online forum write ‘I want to like Haim but she confuses period with slow!’ That has never occurred to me. And while I’m on asides, I was also surprised to see that anyone can still write, as in a blog I came across this morning, something like this: 'Hippolyte et Aricie at the Opera House Zurich is a convincing and beautiful opera experience. The work though will remain side-repertory mainly interesting for lovers of baroque opera and absolute opera experts (=freaks).']
The ladies of the Zurich Opera chorus sang with unaccustomed (these days and in this repertoire) vibrato, obscuring the text, but other than that, the chorus was one of the highlights of the evening.
In all, this was a very sound performance, if not consistently exciting or as moving as it might be. ‘Ça ne vit pas,’ said my neighbour, less happy than I: it isn’t quite coming to life. However, the reception was noisy: loud clapping, eventually rhythmic, with cries of ‘bravo’ firing off on all sides. I had the odd sense that a claque was at work, so sudden and loud were the outbursts, as if a whole bunch of friends and colleagues had come along for the ride from Zurich. But Haïm looked absolutely thrilled: for her, it was a triumph.
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