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