Une soirée chez Berlioz - lyrical rarities, on Berlioz's own guitar

Une soirée chez Berlioz - an evening with Berlioz, songs for voice, piano and guitar, with Stéphanie D'Oustrac, Thibaut Roussel (guitar) and Tanguy de Williencourt (piano). The booklet notes by Bruno Messina, the Berlioz scholar, read like poetry,  evoking what an intimate evening with Berlioz himself might have been, in the company of those closest to him, making music for their own pleasure. "Ni festival, ni requiem, ni symphonie, ni opéra, mais une invitation à partager une soirée chez Berlioz et quelques impressions musicales, de celles qui ne font pas beaucoup de bruit mais qui s’inscrivent dans le cœur (comme ces inflexions “des voix chères qui se sont tues”) et qu’on porte longtemps avec soi…".  Though this soirée chez Berlioz is refined and lyrical, and can be enjoyed on its own terms, this recording includes many lesser known works, which enhance our appreciation of  the breadth of Berlioz's art, sensitively and beautifully performed. A must for true Berlioz aficionados.

Indeed, the instruments played here are not only period but  unique.  The guitar belonged to Berlioz himself, who used it regularly, and to Paganinni before him. The maker was Jean-Nicole Grobert, whom the composer knew well. Given its significance, Berlioz inscribed the guitar with his signature when he donated it to the Conservatoire de Musique. The piano was made by Ignace Pleyel and was used by Chopin, and is beutifully preserved. More technical details in the notes.

The evening begins with Plaisir d'amour. It is heard here in the 1784 original for voice and piano by Jean-Paul-Égide Martini. Berlioz liked it so much that he made an arrangement for voice and small orchestra, with flutes, clarinets, horns and strings. As a child, Berlioz enjoyed the tales of the poem's author, Jean-Pierre Florian.  Around 1859, he made an arrangement for voice and small orchestra but he would undoubtedly have heard and played the original for voice and piano. Williencourt's technique makes this Pleyel grand from 1842 sound as agile and delicate as a fortepiano. Viens, aurore and Vous qui loin d’une amante are settings of other poems by Florian in troubador style. Roussel's background in lute and early stringed instruments enhances his way with Berlioz's period guitar. Viens, aurore is a setting by Lélu (1798-c1822) and Vous qui loin d’une amante  a setting by François Devienne (1759-1803).

Berlioz's La captive is best known in its orchestral version H60 from 1848, but is heard here in Berlioz's adaptation for voice, piano and violincello (Bruno Philippe)  made soon after the first version for voice and piano, from 1832.  Seven songs for voice and guitar follow and three for solo guitar, interspersed with settings by Berlioz and Liszt.  These are well worth including since this rare opportunity to hear Berlioz's own guitar should not be missed. The timbre is distinctive, warmer and less strident than guitars made for different repertoire, particularly sympathetic to French style and to the elegance of D'Oustrac's voice.  These relatively unknown works also provide context for Liszt's L'Idée fixe LW A16b  an Andante amoroso "pour le piano d’après une mélodie de Hector Berlioz" making further connections between Berlioz and Liszt. Though Liszt generally preferred an Érard, this Pleyel is still closer to the instruments Berlioz knew so well, and appropriate for the the intimate feel of this "soirée chez Berlioz".

Also included are Liszt's transcriptions for piano (LW 205) of Berlioz's "Danse de Sylphides" from The Damnation of Faust, and "Marche des Pèlerins" (LW A29) from Harold en Italie Berlioz' Le Jeune Pâtre breton H 65C to a pastoral text by Auguste Brizeux (1803-1858)  a poet and man of the theatre who popularized the language and heritage of Brittany.  Hence, perhaps, Berlioz's use of the cor naturel, (Lionel Renoux), evoking the sounds of Breton lovers calling to each other over mountains and valleys, "semble un soupir mêlé d’ennuis et de plaisir". Berlioz's Fleuve du Tage (H.5) for voice and guitar is very early Berlioz indeed, written at the age of 16. The Élégie en prose H.47 for voice and guitar sets a translation of a poem by Thomas Moore and comes from Berlioz's Neuf mélodies irlandaises, op. 2, H. 38 .

  

Strong and dignified : Berlioz Requiem Pablo Heras-Casado, Orchestre de Paris

Pablo Heras-Casado conducts the Orchestre de Paris, the choir of the Orchestre de Paris and the orchestra of the Conservatoire de Paris, in Hector Berlioz Requiem (Grand Messe des Morts) (streamed here on arte.tv) together with Witold Lutosławski Musique funèbre à la mémoire de Béla Bartók.  Heras-Casado is fast becoming the kind of conductor who doesn't just conduct extremely well, but also finds distinctive insights into the music he conducts. He did a superlative recent Manuel de Falla CD with the Mahler Chamber Orchestra, for example, which applies that orchestra's virtuosity to de Falla, bringing out the verve and audacity that animates the music. Flamenco isn't soft or wimpy - its very discipline makes it electrifying.   Now we can hear why Harmonia Mundi only issued Granados Goyescas and not El amor brujo from the recent Josep Pons BBC SO concert. Many years ago, when Heras-Casado was very young, he appeared in one of Boulez's masterclass videos.  We can't judge from short clips, but evidently Boulez. who heard a lot more,  appreciated him. Boulez was right !

Combining Berlioz and Witold Lutosławski on this programme from the Philharmonie de Paris emphasized how innovative Berlioz was in his own time.  By no means is the Lutoslawski an add-on. It enhances the Berlioz Requiem, not that it needs enhancing, but adds to the overall impact of the experience.  There has been a lot of excellent Berlioz this year, and several Berlioz Requiems this year, some very good, some less so.  But Heras-Casado stands out. Again, Heras-Casado works with the strengths of the orchestra and choruses, adapting the clarity and commitment of the style. A lucid interpretation, shining with intelligence. Berlioz was flamboyant,  but beneath that, his mind was sharp and highly original.  After the refined Introit, the Dies Irae emerged with dark, ominous majesty. Tight, precise rhythms, underlining the tense pitting of one choral section against the other, creating a sense of division and anxiety. Thus the explosive release in the fanfare where the combined chorus blazed, underpinned by rumbling brass and percussion, evoking thunder, voices rising like the spirits of the dead. With dignity, for the dead will not go unvanquished.  Plaintive single instruments like cor, and the tenderness of the Lachrymosa.  Our sympathy is with humble human souls, now lost to death, the rising brass and percussion underlining depth of feeling.

The Domine and the Hostias mark a transition, like an Offertory in a Mass, when the host is consecrated, bringing God into the community, reminding believers why Jesus sacrificed for man.  The soloist is Frédéric Antoun, who's very impressive. A pity that Berlioz didn't give the tenor more to do, but the part, though relatively small, is critical : Antoun's voice rings out powerfully, above the hushed chorus, his timbre shining, as if surrounded by light.  On the video, Antoun is shown spotlit, standing alone, above the orchestra and choirs.  Now the Requiem enters its destination:  glorious Hosana, in excelcis, the chorus interacting like the pealing of bells, Antoun's voice ringing divinely. "Behold the Lamb of God", that's what the Agnus Dei means. Thus the hushed reverence in the choruses and the long, clear chords in the orchestra, with baleful undertones, penerating into the distance. Berlioz may not have been devout, but he knew that religion can be a form of theatre.  The conclusion isn't triumphalist, but comtemplative, like a reflection upon the miracle that has occured.  Heras-Casado's approach is deeply committed, strong minded and assured : very much cognizant of what a Grand Messe des Morts should be. 

Berlioz Benvenuto Cellini Prom - JE Gardiner

Berlioz Benvenuto Cellini Prom at the Royal Alberrt Hall, London, with John Eliot Gardiner conducting the Monteverdi Choir and Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique . A stirring performance, bursting with Berliozian brio !  Robert Hugill, writing in Opera Today (please see full link here) says it had "a rhythmic tightness and brilliance which belied the music's complexity and Gardiner's speeds certainly took no prisoners so that the Carnival scene was completely dazzling in many ways as choir, soloists and orchestra articulated Berlioz' busy and complex rhythms whilst keeping the whole sparkling and fun. The finale, with the casting of Perseus, was equally devastating".  I'd absolutely concur. Benvenuto Cellini is a big, big beast which thrives on energy. No stodge, please. 

Gardiner's use of period instruments and period-informed practice paid off well. "The narrow bore brass, including cornets as well as trumpets, and an ophecleide (!) made a strongly characterful impression without overbalancing in the way can happen with modern instruments and the period wind (with four bassoons) were similarly characterful and colourful. And it was this sense of a wider range of colour that we took away from the performance, something that Gardiner seemed to relish. The period strings were lighter in colour and far less dominant in the busy passages, making the whole full of lovely detail, which meant we could appreciate the sheer skill of all the performers."

Good singing, good playing and above all, an electrifying sense of theatre, even semi staged. 

Sandrine Piau Si j'ai aimé - Orchestrated Mélodie

Sandrine Piau and Le Concert de la Loge (Julien Chauvin), Si j'ai aimé. an eclectic collection of mélodies demonstrating the riches of French orchestral song.  Berlioz, Duparc and Massenet are included, but also
Saint-Saëns, Charles Bordes, Gabriel Pierné, Théodore Dubois, Louis Vierne and Benjamin Godard.  Sponsored by Palazetto Bru Zane, Alpha Classics produced the ground breaking Saint-Saëns Mélodies avec orchestre with Yann Beuron and Tassis Christoyannis (please read more here) which has been described as the "opening of a Pandora's box ......(on) dozens, if not hundreds, of mélodies sublimely arrayed in sparkling orchestral colours (which) were slumbering on library shelves".

These mélodies reflect the renaissance of French poetry in the Romantic period, and of contemporary poets like Hugo, Gautier, Banville, Régnier and Verlaine.  The enhancement of verse by music created a new genre, taking art song from the confines of private salons to the concert hall.  Although grand opéra took centre stage, many composers found, in mélodie an expression of more subtle sensibility.  Given the predominance of grand opéra and of singers trained in that tradition, the vocal parts are more elaborate than they would be in a more inward form like German Lieder, but are exqusitely refined. These settings focus on voice, eschewing brass and percussion. "But how many nuances these composers coud obtain from this palette", writes Hélène Cao in her notes. "There is no oboe in Aimons-nous (Saint-Saëns) or Ce que dit le silence (Guilmant) .....the arpeggios of Saint-Saëns' Extase are provided by the harp, thus preserving the lightness of a pianistic texture that would have been weighed down by the use of bowed strings". Indeed, the harp is a distinctive feature in many of these mélodies, more lustrous and liquid,  closer to the human voice, and particularly to the female voice.

The delicacy of Piau's timbre in Saint-Saëns' Extase (Victor Hugo) is exquisite, almost trembling with ecstasy, the moment of intimacy in the text living vividly on in memory.  her vouce is agile, capturing the fluttering fragility in Papillons (Renée de Léché) where a pair of flutes duet, darker winds and strings adding texture.  The song ends abruptly, for butterflies die once the summer is over.  In Charles Bordes's Promenade matinale (Paul Verlaine) , the pace is leisurely, evoking a stroll in the morning sunshine. A horn is heard, illustrating "un chemin de gazonque bordant devieux aulnes", introducing shade, for the dreamer has lost the one he or she had loved. This connects neatly with the well-known Berlioz Au cimetière from Les nuits d'été.  In Jules Massenet's Le Poète et Le Fantôme, to an anonymous text, the vocal line stretches languidly, as the poet addresses a phantom, the soul of the poet's smiles, ie a memory of the past.  The voice of the harp mirroring the voice of the singer. The poem is strophic, its repeating patterns suggesting there will be no resolution.  Gabriel Pierné's Chanson d'autrefois, for chamber ensemble, is like a folk air, being based on the composer's set of childrens's piece Album pour mes petits amis. Théodore Dubois' Si j'ai parlé....si j'ai aimé (Henri de Régnier) is poised, "c'est ton ombre que je cherche". 

The upbeat rhythms of Berlioz's Villanelle from Les nuits d'été  mark a transition from songs of lost love to songs of desire and seduction. Théodore Dubois' Promenade à l'etang (Albert Semain) alternates restraint with exuberant outbursts, intensifying the tension of passion, the pond representing, perhaps, hidden depths. More butterflies in Louis Vierne's Beaux papillons blancs from Trois Mélodies op 11, this time fluttering happily in warm breezes, the vocal line circulating smoothly as the strings dance and sparkle.  In contrast, the sensuous promise of  Henry Duparc's Aux étoiles where violin and flute soar over a background of dark timbred strings. In Alexandre Guilmant's Ce que dit le silence (Charles Barthélemy), the contrast lies between the sweeping vocal part and the understated orchestral line with its quiet interjections. "Sans bruit, nous permet d'écouter ce que dit le silence". 

The repose of Saint-Saëns Aimons-nous (Théodore de Banville) merges into the serenity of Massenet's Valse très lente,  originally for piano, here scored for lyrical winds and strings. Saint-Saëns'  L'Enlèvement (Hugo) was written when the composer was only 13 years of age, but the woodwind melody has finesse. The grave movement from Benjamin Godard's Symphonie gothique op 23 is followed by the famous Plaisir d'amour, in a transcription by Hector Berlioz after a romance from the 1780's by Jean-Paul-Ègide Martini.

Berlioz : Symphonie fantastique and Lélio - Philippe Jordan, Cyrille Dubois

Berlioz Symphonie fantastique and Lélio ou Le retour à la vie, this time with Philippe Jordan conducting the Wiener Symphonker wirh Cyrille Dubois, Florian Sempey and Jean-Philippe Lafont (narrator) with the Wiener Singverein from the Wiener Symphoniker's own recording label. Symphonie fantastique is ubiquitous, with numerous performances and recordings every year. But what is news is that this programme is an "extended" version, so to speak, since the symphony (op 14) and the monologue lyrique (op 14b) were designed on symmetrical principles, with numerous interconnections, forming a kind of mega symphony whose architecture is revealed by hearing the two parts together. There have been earlier recordings - Jean Martinon in 1973 being my particular favourite, but in performance, the pairing is not easy to achieve because the two parts require very different forces.  Colin Davis, for example, recorded Lélio minus the all-important part of Lélio the composer, though his narration is fundamental to the whole structure. The spoken words draw together the vocal and orchestral parts and gives them context. Without narration, cohesion is lost, no matter how good the singing and playing might be.

This recording, with Jordan and an extremely good pair of soloists, would be a top recommendation were it not for the recent Symphonie fantastique and Lélio with François-Xavier Roth and Les Siècles, which sets new standards of excellence. Please read more about that HERE. That said, this new recording, with Jordan and the Wiener Symphoniker  has a great deal going for it.  It's very different from Roth/Les Siècles, but well worth hearing on its own terms.

A very stylish Symphonie fantastique , Jordan making the most of the Wiener Symphoniker's poise and elegance.  In "Rêveries" one might call the keening string lines a "Sensucht" motif : "reverie", or longing, has no national boundaries.  The idéé fixe is thus framed in a context that fits in with the orchestra's strengths, the "sweetness" in the strings laced with melancholy.  As the pace picks up, the sound is fuller, yet still driven by almost manic impulse. The waltz in "Le Bal" is particularly suited to an orchestra based in Vienna : Jordan shapes the figures so they seem to whirl round, the way dancers move gaily, but in strict formation.  Again the idée fixe reminds us that time cannot stand still.  A lovely introduction to the "Scène aux champs", the dialogue between cor anglais and oboe reflecting the sense that fulfilment might be elusive. With modern instruments, the "March au supplice" is perhaps more flashy than macabre, and the "Songe d'une nuit du sabbat" less spooky but suitably dramatic. Nice cheeky woodwinds, above the turbulence in the orchestra : almost cinematic in impact.

Part of the reason that Lélio does not get performed as often as it deserves to be is that the role of Lélio, the composer, is central to its execution. Getting Lélio right is tricky. I've heard the part done in English, with RADA-style self-consciousness, but that didn't work for me, at all. The Shakespeare Berlioz heard in early 19th century Paris wasn't the Shakespeare of late 19th/early 20th century London, but freer, wilder hybrid.  Shakespeare carried no cultural baggage for continental European audiences in Berlioz's time.  Berlioz saw Roméo et Juliette in the Garrick version of the play brought to Paris in 1827 by Charles Kemble, where Berlioz met and became infatuated with Harriet Smithson, who may represent the elusive muse that inspires the artist in Berlioz to extremes of agony and ecstasy. In an age before close-ups and amplification, theatre practice would have to have been more exaggerated than we're used to now.  Perhaps Berlioz, a theatre critic, intuited that good orchestral writing had the potential to express feelings in greater complexity than most actors at the time were able to project, given the technological limitations of the time.

In Lélio, the artist is a composer who, having experienced the annihilation of Symphonie fantastique finds "Le retour à la vie" in a new "Épisode de la vie d'un artiste ... en cinq parties". Since the piece is a dramatic monologue, interspersed by songs and orchestral interludes, more rests on the speaker than  might be in less literary works. Martinon's Lélio was Jean Topart, a French movie star, who delivered his lines effectively. Jordan's Lélio is Jean-Philippe Lafont, an opera singer, which makes a difference, since there is a musical quality in the text, which a narrator with a feel for music can bring out. I still prefer Roth's Michael Fau, who is more uninhibited, closer perhaps to the wild abandon that the highly coloured text seems to inspire, yet also understands the innate musicality in the lines.  Both Jordan and Roth have Florian Sempey for the baritone part, who is excellent, but Jordan has the incomparable Cyrille Dubois, who may not be well known outside Europe but is greatly respected.  Dubois has a clear, high tessitura employed with agility, truly idiomatic in this highly specialized repertoire. Though the tenor part is relatively limited, Dubois steals the show !  This is a good performance all round, but Dubois is so outstanding that this is worth getting just to hear how wonderfully the part can be done.

Berlioz, Grand Symphonie Funèbre et triomphale - François-Xavier Roth, Les Siècles

Jean-Victor Schnetz: Combat devant l'hôtel de ville, 1830

Berlioz  Grand Symphonie Funèbre et triomphale, with François-Xavier Roth, and Les Siècles, continuing their Concert Monstre at the Pierre Boulez Salle of the Philharmonie de Paris. For Part One, "Blazing Liberté" please read my review here.  The two parts of the programme worked together well, the revolutionary visions of the first part reinforced by the solemnity of the second. Ideals are not won easily, and cannot be taken for granted.  The symphony was written in 1840, marking the anniversary of the July Revolution of 1830.  Just eight years later, the February Revolution of 1848 would change things yet again, ushering in the Second Republic.  
Berlioz's  Grand Symphonie Funèbre et triomphale reflects older traditions than modern symphonic form.  It is a ceremonial march, scored for wind instruments and percussion, instruments which would have been used in military situations. Berlioz initially used the term "Symphonie militaire", adapting it for the occasion of the re-interment of the remains of those killed in the July Revolution.  Though members of Les Siècles remain seated, the instruments they play are mobile, and could have been carried and played while marching. Period instruments, with their more natural, earthy sounds, give performance a human touch, and underline the sense of forward movement that propels the symphony towards its glorious conclusion.  

The Marche funèbre flowed with a powerful, affirmative pulse, drumstrokes and the wail of ophecliedes to the fore, lower brass followed by higher winds, as if marching in military formation. The second theme, (flutes, oboes, clarinets) offered brief retrospective before fiercely dominant chords introduced the next section, bassoons, trombones, ophecliedes, marching at a pace that increases in depth and intensity as it proceeds, punctuated by steady drumstrokes, the surge crowned with the crash of cymbals. In the Oraison funèbre, a fanfare - nine trombones in phalanx - supported by horns and trumpets, the trombone soloist above them as orator, positioned so his instrument could call out as if into vast distance, echoed at times by lighter winds.  Fragments of Berlioz's unfinished opera Les Francs-Juges were used in this movement, so the "oratory" quality of the trombone solo may have its origins in music for voice.  The trombone may be wordless, but its expressiveness is deeply poignant.

The final movement, the Apothéose, rises seamlessly from what has gone before. A march picks up, now brighter and faster paced, a march of exuberant triumph.  Berlioz used the pavilion chinois, a version of the Turkish crescent, but more elaborate, with rolls of bells under a cap (shaped like a pagoda) to further concentrate the sound.  Most orchestras use simpler versions which aren't nearly so impressive. These instruments symbolized victory, the incorporation of foreign elements by conquest.  In this version of the symphony, Roth uses the option of a second orchestra, (the Jeune Orchestre Européen Hector Berlioz) addding string colour, expanding the symphony still further from military form.  Roth  also utilizes the choirs, who served so well in the first part ofthis Concert monstre.  The voices burst forth in unison, with such precision that the effect was explosive, like a canonnade in sound.  "Gloire! Gloire ! Gloire et triomphe!". Not for nothing is this finale an apotheosis, and in this performance it was positively ablaze. It doesn't last nearly long enough. Roth and his forces repeated it as an encore. 

Liberté ! - Berlioz Concert Monstre - F X Roth, Les Siècles Part One

Berlioz Concert Monstre with François-Xavier Roth, and Les Siècles and a cast of hundreds, livestreamed from the Philharmonie de Paris (link here). "Concert Monstre" was the title of a concert Berlioz presented in 1844, where performers (over 100) outnumbered the audience.  Roth's Concert Monstre employs closer to 500, with two orchestras and six choirs but the acoustic of the Pierre Boulez Salle handles such forces well, even at full volume.  But this was a "Concert Monstre" in another sense, too,  since it was a grand extravaganza designed for maximum impact. In the first half, spectacular paeans to progress and liberty - L'Impériale, Chant de chemins de fer, Le Temple universal, topped by the Hymne Marseillaise. In the second half, the Grand Symphonie Funèbre et triomphale.

"Du peuple entier, les âmes triomphantes ont tressailli comme au cri du destin !" - the choirs sang, getting L'Impériale (H129, 185) off with a blazing start. Ostensibly, the  text celebrates the revival of the imperial dynasty under Napoléan III, but this is an empire with roots in revolution : the real hero here is the French nation itself, and its people. This "Concert Monstre" was also hommage to Berlioz himself. Berlioz was literary : he loved words on the page as much as in the theatre. When he used text, it was often integral to his music.  The concert included spoken quotations from Berlioz's own writings, and commentary.  The speakers were clearly heard, again demonstrating the merits of the Pierre Boulez Salle. 

Thus the Chant de chemins de fer (H110, 1850), a cantata for voice, orchestra and chorus, with tenor Julien Dran.  The text, by Jules Janin, expresses the exhilration of new technology, the coming of railways and the "merveilles de l’industrie". Berlioz wrote the piece very rapidly, taking time off from working on Le Damnation de Faust. Perhaps there are connections : just as Faust flies through the skies, trains carried people through the landcape at what were then almost unimaginable speeds.  Even more pertinently,  Goethe's Faust made his pact with Méphistofeles in order to gain knowledge which might save mankind. This creates a sub-context for the cantata, connecting it to Berlioz's interest in Saint-Simonian ideology, and to the idea of progress through an economic order based on industry.  To Berlioz, phrases like "Pour vous, ouvriers, La couronne est prête" would have had extra meaning. This intensifies the sense of excitement which Berlioz builds into the setting. The rhythms may replicate the chugging of motors and movement of wheels, but the strong sense of forward propulsion might also evoke the thrill of social revolution. One might even detect faint echoes of the Marseillaise. "Que de montagnes effacées! Que de rivières traversées! Travail humain, fécondante sueur!". In the strophe which mentions". The lines grow hushed, the choruses singing of spirits descending into tombs, as they greet the dawn of a new age. Thus the chorus repeats each word of the soloist : "La Paix ! le Roi! L'ouvrier! La patrie", with a fervour that's almost religious. On this happy day, the laurels go to the "Soldats de la paix, C’est votre victoire; C’est à vous la gloire De tant de bienfaits." The final strophe was delivered with almost explosive force, Dran's voice ringing out like shining clarion. 

In Le Temple universal (H137, op 28, before 1861)  Berlioz returns, towards the end of his life, to idealism. In this orchestration, by Yves Chauris, male and female choruses combine, reinforcing the concept that an enlightened Europe should unite, beyond frontiers, to embrace "Le grand hymne de notre liberté!"  An appropriate hymn for present times !  Roth is no fool : He has often shown courage when expressing his convictions. To press the point still further, Berlioz's orchestration for large orchestra, soloist and chorus of the Marseillaise (H 51a), written in the wake of the July Revolution of 1830.  What an experiece this must have been in the Pierre Boulez Salle ! Everyone standing who could - the orchestra, the chorus, the audience. When Dran sang the solo passage, the orchestra seemed to well around him. The Choeurs et orchestres des Grandes Ecoles,Choeur Sorbonne Université, Choeur de la Cité Internationale Universitaire de Paris,Choeur CalligrammesChoeur des Universités de Paris, and Choeur InChorus (Chorus master Frédéric Pineau) were joined by informal singers in the choir stalls, ordinary people, some singing from memory, and no doubt a few in the audience.  That is what a Marseillaise should be about - drawing the people together. "Amour sacré de la Patrie, Conduis, soutiens nos bras vengeurs
Liberté, Liberté eg tes défenseurs ! Combats avec tes défenseurs!".  At this point in history, it seems that the forces of freedom, liberty and genuine democracy are being destroyed, by technological manipulation,  intolerance, and pig-headed stupidity.  We need the Marseillaise. I played this over and over, loudly. My son popped in. "Wow!", he said "That's fantastic!"  

My review of Part 2 of this Concert Monstre when François-Xavier Roth and Les Siècles do Grand Symphonie Funèbre et triomphale  is HERE! Please enjoy

Fantastique Lélio Berlioz, F X Roth Les Siècles, Paris

Berlioz Symphonie fantastique and Lélio together, as they should be, with François-Xavier Roth and Les Siècles livestreamed from the Philharmonie de Paris (link here).  Though Symphonie fantastique is heard everywhere, all the time, it makes a difference when paired with Lélio because this restores Berlioz's original context. Opus 14 and 14b are meant to connect. Indeed, Lélio can be heard as an extension of the Symphonie fantastique, since together they reflect an intensely creative period in his development. The  symphony, subtitled  Épisode de la vie d'un artiste ... en cinq parties flows naturally into the Lélio, ou Le retour à la vie, mélologue en six parties. The first part addresses annihilation, the second part revival through creative art, and, heard together, they have symmetry.

When the symphony isn't treated as a stand-alone, there is an impact on interpretation.  Roth and Les Siècles use instruments of Berlioz's period to better reflect the colours Berlioz would have used.  This gives a more naturalistic, genuinely "Romantic"(big R) warmth to the performance. In "Rêveries", diaphanous textures herald the idée fixe, which here flowed with ardent purpose, establishing the  dichotomy between poetic ideals and obsession that gives this symphony such power.  Four harps and shimmering strings introduce the waltz. This moment of serenity contrasted with darker timbres, might indicate that happiness may be elusive. The "Scène aux champs" is pastoral, but haunted by more poignant undercurrents. An exquisitely played cor anglais, echoed by unseen oboe : dichotomy again, suggesting that happiness might be beyond reach.  Thus the "March au supplice" grows from what has gone before.  The steady march is well defined, the Idée fixe leading waywardly forth.  An atmospheric "Songe d'une nuit du sabbat". Ophecliedes may reference funeral processions in Berlioz's era, but the ominous grotesques, swirling strings and ringing bells also indicate supernatural malevolence. The demonic forces of Goethe's Die erste Walpurgisnacht  are not so very far away.  Romanticism, with its instincts for what we'd now call the subconscious, marked a breaking away from the unquestioned order of the Ancien Regime.

Roth's observant approach to structure pulls together the underlying architecture in the Symphonie fantastique, which is particularly relevant when the symphony is heard together with Lélio.  Significantly,  the narrator (Michel Fau) is alone as Lélio begins, the orchestra silent. This is an existential cry of anguish., delivered by Michel Fau with appropriate drama, even capturing the semi-musical cadences in the text.  For Berlioz, the narration was fundamental to concept.  Declamation would have come naturally to Berlioz and his contemporaries, who discovered Shakespeare, albeit in the theatrical adaptations that were then the norm, even in England.  Moreover, a good narrator like Michel Fau captures the semi-musical cadences in the text, which further links words with music . Lélio is, significantly, a composer.  While this is not Sprechstimme by any means, leaving out the narration, or using performances without the distinctive punch of proper French diction, diminishes the impact.  "Dieu! je vis encore... Il est donc vrai, la vie comme un serpent s’est glissée dans mon cœur pour le déchirer de nouveau? " This is an existential cry of anguish.  Yet there are explicit references to the symphony. "Ce supplice, ces juges, ces bourreaux, ces soldats, les clameurs de cette populace, ces pas graves et cadencés tombant sur mon cœur comme des marteaux de Cyclopes.."  In this dark night of the soul, Lélio speaks of the vision "avec son inexplicable sourire, conduisant la ronde infernale autour de mon tombeau!..."

The narration is so closely integrated into the structure that, in the "Ballad of the Fisherman" (based on Goethe's adaptation of Hamlet), Lélio's friend, Horatio (Michael Spyres) sings a lilting song about a nymph while Lélio meditates on life and art.  The serene song connects to evoke the watlz in the Symphonie fantastique. Again, the text references music : "Une instrumentation sourde... une harmonie large et sinistre... une lugubre mélodie... un chœur en unissons et octaves... semblable à une grande voix exhalant une plainte menaçante pendant la mystérieuse solennité de la nuit..."   In the Chœur d’ombres, the choir (the National Youth Choir of Scotland, chorus master Christopher Bell)  sings of death, punctuated by pounding drums - another funeral march, all the more poignant because the voices are fresh and youthful. Yet Lélio's words are truculent.  Calling on Shakespeare, he resolves to head to Naples and join brigands.  In Romantic terms, the South represented freedom and wildneess, the sun versus the moon, images Goethe employed so well. An artist cannot conform but must find himself through creativity.  In the "Chanson de Brigands" the baritone (Florian Sempey) leads the chorus in raucous adventure.  On the video transmission, the chorus members put their arms round each others shoulders and move,  expressing the energy in the orchestra. Can Lélio dare hope ?  "Je me vois dans l’avenir, couronné par l’amour".

After a brief silence, the orchestra now comes into its own : beautifully limpid harps, seductive woodwinds.  Now the tenor represents Lélio, singing the imaginary voice of the composer, off-stage. then even Lélio falls silent, as the orchestra creates the magic that is "Sounenirs- La harpe éolienne" where the orchestra extends the sound of the harp with winds and strings, evoking the sound of an aeolian harp, where Nature plays, vibrating through breezes.  The pastoralism of "Scène aux champs" now idealized and perfect. Lélio resolves to find new life through art. "Allons! que les esprits chantent et folâtrent! que la tempête gronde, éclate et tonne!......SHAKESPEARE me protège!". The "Fantaisie sur " La tempête " de Shakespeare" is Lélio's redemption. The chorus sing"Miranda! Miranda", and the orchestra creates the storm - both physical and supernatural - that drives her to the island where Caliban is marooned. The pounding rhythms of the idée fixe in the Symphonie fantastique return, transformed, flowing with even greater energy.  Until this point, Berlioz employed the orchestra with restraint. Now, in this exhilarating climax, we hear why he needed a full ensemble, supported by choir.  Lélio listens, and cries "Encore! Encore, et pour toujours!...".

Roth, Les Siècles and the voices give such an idiomatic, inspired performance that Lélio's words seem addressed to them "votre exécution est remarquable par la précision, l’ensemble, la chaleur; vous avez même reproduit plusieurs nuances fort délicates. Vos progrès sont manifestes; je vois que vous pouvez aborder maintenant des compositions d’un ordre beaucoup plus élevé que cette faible esquisse."
When (not if) this gets to CD/video, it should set a new benchmark in Berlioz performance practice. til then, listen again on the Philharmonie de Paris website.

Berlioz Requiem John Nelson, St Paul's Cathedral

Hector Berlioz Requiem (Grande Messe des morts) op 5 (1837) at St Paul's Cathedral, London, with John Nelson conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra, the Philharmonia Chorus and London Philharmonic Choir with Michael Spyres, soloist.  This work benefits from being heard in a grand setting, and there can be few performance places quite as grand as St Paul's Cathedral,  Wren's masterpiece built to celebrate the renewal of London after the Great Fire.  But the very scale of St Paul's has its down sides.  We all carry memories of Colin Davis's Berlioz Requiem at Paul's, conducted shortly before he died, but it was heavily miked : his earlier recording was made in the much smaller Westminster Cathedral.  St Paul's doesn't get used for concerts too often, because its acoustics are hard to manage. You can't, for example, build sound deflectors into a historic  monument.

Fortunately, for this performance, the best sound engineers in the business were on hand.
The recording, made for Idéale Audience, available for a short time on medici.tv, sounds so good that you wouldn't know what St Paul's can sound like. Indeed, the recording makes the most of the echo, so sounds resonate across great distances, with maximum effect.  The filming, directed by Sébastien Glas, also makes the most of the sense of occasion, with long shots panning from high above, emphasizing the sheer grandeur of the performance space. For that, you can forgive the fact that technology contributed a lot to what we hear. Of the several Berlioz Requiems in recent years, thanks to the setting, this recording takes the prize for atmospheric impact. Visuals matter, because any decision to use St Paul's Cathedral means making the most of the spatial aspects of the performance.  Those chandeliers are a feature of the Cathedral : not to highlight them would be a lost opportunity.  As a man of the theatre, Berlioz would have appreciated the importance of visual effect.

Nelson's pace was reverential, giving prominence to the religious origins of a Mass. Good blending of choral voices : hushed and suitably penitential.  In the Dies Irae, the Berliozian personality in the piece emerged more clearly.  In the darkness, the off-stage brass ensembles were invisible, but there was no mistaking their dramatic impact.  The on-stage brass players responded, standing not seated, again maximizing the connection between forces known and unknown, which after all is what a Requiem is about.  Centre stage, the row of percussionists projected an ominous roar. An understated Quid sum miser contrasted with the Rex tremendae, the filming enhancing the sense of movement. The singing in the a capella Quaerens me was particularly effective, the voices joined in the Lacrimosa by percussion and brass. The string playing that marks the beginning of the Domine Jesu Christe came over clean and clear, the choruses intoning quietly in the background, the orchestral "voice" developing well. With the Hostias, a more Berliozian character returned - powerful brass chords, like trumpets at the End of Time. The tenor part in the Sanctus sits uncomfortably high, so even Michael Spyres was challenged at first, but he projected very well : the sound carrying out into the vast space around him, the choirs following in his wake. Spyres's Glorias pealed gloriously, like bells, and the Hosanas in the choruses rang joyously. With the Agnus Dei, Nelson returned to the reverent hush with which the Requiem began.  Since St Paul's Cathedral operates as a church (it's not just a tourist site) it was utterly appropriate that this sedate approach to the Requiem should reflect the spiritual aspects of the piece.

Berlioz, Haitink, Mahler and other livestreams

Listening links and livestreams (click on blue bold for link)

Berlioz : La Damnation de Faust - François-Xavier Roth nous propose sa vision de "La Damnation de Faust" avec les forces de son orchestre Les Siècles. From L'Opea de Versailles. Condensed but intense HIGHLY RECOMMENDED  Very good soloists - Mathias Vidal, Anna Caterina Antonacci, Nicolas Courjal. Though it's too early to tell, this might be one of the highlights of this Berlioz anniversary year.

Berlioz : L'Enfance du Christ, Andrew Davis, BBC NOW HERE. This coincides with the release of Davis's recording of the piece with the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, which I haven't yet heard, but the combination of BBC NOW, the National Chorus of Wales and these soloists (Sarah Connolly, Andrew Staples (divine), Roderick Williams) would be pretty hard to top.

Berlioz Requiem, Lutoslawski - Pablo Heras-Casado  from the Philharmoniue de Paris from 20th February

Mahler : Symphony no 8 - Gergiev, Munich Philharmonic, Philharmonie de Paris  Gergiev's  unpredictable, and his Mahler often disappoints tho' his recent Mahler 4 and Das Lied von der Erde were surprisingly good.  Any Mahler 8 is worth hearing. This one thankfully wasn't over the top and hysterical.  It was good enough, and better than quite a lot. Luckily I didn't get to hear him do it in St Paul's Cathedral ten years ago where my friends said the naves sucked the life out of it .

Bernard Haitink : Beethoven 9,  Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks live from 22nd February on BR Klassik. Red Letter Day

Bernard Haitink at 90, LSO, Barbican  : Bruckner 4 amd Mozart from 10th March.  I'll be at the Mahler 4 programme on 12th March, which isn't being broadcast. There are still a few tickets for the repeat on 14th March. Grab them - Anna Lucia Richter the soloist is worth hearing

Berlioz Bits - Lélio, Waverley. La Mort de Cléopatra Pascal Rophé, BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, live from Glasgow

Mahler Das Lied von der Erde - Sakari Oramo BBC SO - Elizabeth Kullmann and Stuart Skelton, who should be good. From 22nd February

Stéphanie D'Oustrac Sirènes - Berlioz, Wagner and Liszt

Stéphanie D'Oustrac Sirènes, with Pascal Jourdan, songs by Berlioz, Liszt and Wagner, from Harmonia Mundi. After D'Oustrac's striking success as Cassandre in Berlioz Les Troyens (Please read more here), this will reach audiences less familiar with her core repertoire in the baroque and grand opéra.  Berlioz's Les nuits d'été and La mort d’Ophélie,  Wagner's Wesendonck Lieder and the Lieder of Franz Liszt are very well known, but the finesse of D'Oustrac's timbre lends a lucid gloss which makes them feel fresh and pure.

D'Oustrac's Sirènes is also valuable because it demonstrates different approaches to the art of song for voice and piano. Berlioz's Les Nuits d'été op 7, to poems by Théophile Gautier, initially completed in 1841, was exactly contemporary with the works of Schumann's Liederjahre  Later, Berlioz would expand the accompaniment for orchestra, effectively creating a new genre, orchestral art song, which would be developed later in the century by composers like Mahler and Hugo Wolf.  Nonetheless, even in the original form for voice and piano, these songs are highly individual, quite distinct from the songs of Schumann and Mendelssohn.  "I only wish people to know that [these works] exist", wrote Berlioz, "that they are not shoddy music . . . and that one must be a consummate musician and singer and pianist to give a faithful rendering of these little compositions, that they have nothing to do with the form and style of Schubert’s songs"

These mélodies of Berlioz are characterized by elegance and restraint. In "Villanelle", for example, the repeating patterns in the piano part might evoke Schubert, but there's an effervescent gaiety in them that is matched by graceful flow of the vocal line.  In "Le spectre de la rose", the more languid pace allows the voice to curve sensuously.  Berlioz clearly understood the carnal undertones in Gautier's poetry.  The piano part is gentle, but persistent, like an embrace. When D'Oustrac's tone deepens with the phrase "Ô toi qui de ma mort fus cause", one can almost sense the  perfume rising from the petals of the doomed rose. Although Les Nuits d'été is not a song cycle in the strictest sense of the term, recurring themes of love, and death and perpetual change give it a coherence which is particularly clear when it is performed with the intimate focus that a single singer and pianist can achieve.  The three songs, "Sur les lagunes : Lamento", "Absence" and"Au cimetière: Clair de lune", form a unit, sombre with the stillness of the tomb, which is then broken by "L'île inconnue" where the ebullient high spirits of "Villanelle" return. Les Nuits d'été begins with promise of Spring and new  life, and ends with adventure. "La voile enfle son aile, La brise va souffler.", D'Oustrac breathing buoyancy into the word "souffler". Though Heine inspired Mendelssohn and Schumann with dreams of the East, Gautier and Berlioz are tapping into an even deeper vein in the French aesthetic : ideas of freedom, change and new frontiers in exotic settings.  D'Oustrac and Jourdan extend Les Nuits d'été by following it with Berlioz's La mort d’Ophélie, from Tristia op 18, a setting of a ballade by Ernest Legouvé, who, like Berlioz himself, adapted Shakespeare for French theatre.  Ophélie, who dies for love, floats upon a torrent, depicted in the rippling piano part.  "Mais cette étrange mélodie passa rapide comme un son". Though the voice imitates a lament, this is not so much a song of mourning but a transformation through music.  The stream carries "la pauvre insensée, Laissant à peine commencée Sa mélodieuse chanson." 

This recording is titled Sirènes, tying Berlioz's songs together with Richard Wagner's Wesendonck Lieder, both inspired, in part, by women who awoke strong emotions.  Sirens, who attract but aren't necessarily positive, though they generated great art.  With full orchestration, the Wesendonck Lieder showcase Wagnerian flamboyance. But, as with Les Nuits d'été , voice and piano versions  concentrate focus on a more intimate scale.  Even more pertinently, this highlights Wagner's place in the context of the Lieder of his time, and in relation to Schumann and Franz Liszt.  "Der Engel" is gentle,  and  the dramatic declamation of "Stehe Still !" more human scale.  D'Oustrac and Jourdan are particularly impressive in "Im Treibhaus", the sensitivity of their expression reflecting the intense inwardness that makes Lieder as powerful a genre as opera.  

One of the most iconic siren figures of 19th century Romanticism was the Loreley. This recording begins with one of the most beautiful Loreley songs of all,  Liszts's Die Loreley S273/2, a setting of Heine's poem.  D'Oustrac's silvery timbre illuminates the song, accentuating its mystery.  She and Jourdan include another other Liszt setting of Heine, Im Rhein im schönen Strome, S272/3 and four settings of Goethe, of which Über allen Gipfeln ist Ruh S306/2 works particularly well with D'Oustrac's lucid style. 

Berlioz Les Troyens, Paris - How to kill an opera

Hector Berlioz Les Troyens with Philippe Jordan conducting the Opéra National de Paris.  Since Les Troyens headlined the inauguration of Opéra Bastille 30 years ago, we might have expected something special of this new production. It should have been a triumph, with such a good conductor and some of the best singers in the business. But it wasn't.  Anyone can trot out superficial clichés  about so-called modern productions, but it's far more important to understand why a production works, or doesn't.

The starting point as always is the opera, and the ideas behind it.  Berlioz captured the expansive, extravagant spirit of his time. France was resurgent, colonizing Africa and Asia, obliterating the  defeat of Napoleon with new confidence. Paris was being rebuilt on a grand scale.  Yet Berlioz, never a shrinking violet, intuited the hubris that comes with imperial glory.  Les Troyens is flamboyant, but its backdrop is catastrophe.  Empires are annihilated, nations forced into exile. Berlioz's orchestration reflects this turbulence, with blazing highs and apocalyptic darkness. Though Didon and Enée enjoy an interlude of heady bliss, that happiness is doomed.  That idea of glory cursed by hubris remians powerfully potent today - perhaps even more so now, given what's happening in the world.   Perhaps audiences don't want to be reminded about war in Syria (and Lebanon, where Tyre was) and of the hundreds of thousands of refugees in the Mediterranean, many escaping from the area that was Carthage. Fair enough.  There's no more reason that a production should be set in period costume. In any case, Berlioz wasn't doing history enactment, and the audiences of his time were conditioned to the past as allegory, Classical Antiquity rather than Antiquity Realism. Berlioz's music was audacious, possibly the most advanced and adventurous of its time.  Shock and awe were part of his aesthetic. Les Troyens doesn't have to be pretty - cosiness is decidedly not its message - but at least it should engage the mind.

Dmitri Tcherniakov productions don't generally appeal to me because he tends to decorate rather than engage with what ideas might be in an opera. His Glinka Ruslan and Lyudmila  for the Bolshoi was as inert as a Fabergé egg, (read more here), his Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk for ENO put Shostakovich on mute (more here), his La Traviata for La Scala died in the womb (here) and his Rimsky-Korsakov's Invisible City of Kitezh missed the magic so fundamental to the opera (please read Amsterdam's invisible, risible Kitezh here).   But I loved his Bizet Carmen at the Aix-en-Provence Festival in 2017.   The drama in Carmen isn't the kitsch surface so much as the way the characters act out their motivations to extremes.  Thus Carmen as transaction analysis is not only feasible, but full of insight. Perhaps Tcherniakov was trying to recap that Carmen with Les Troyens, but frankly, he needs to work with a good dramaturge. 

Tcherniakov sets the Troy part of Les Troyens as a fairly typical tin-pot dictatorship, which is not wrong in principle, but there is a lot more to Berlioz's Troy than this. Cassandre is the central character, not Priam and his court, and she is cursed because she can prophesy the future. Stéphanie d'Oustrac was stunning, stealing the show by her vocal presence and instinctive feel for creating character.  I was riveted : she's a force of nature.  But all Tcherniakov had to offer her was a yellow suit , standing out from the blue shades around her, and when the Greeks burst in they hardly seem to figure.  Anyone who didn't get the Horse in David McVicar's Les Troyens for the Royal Opera House should be forced to watch Tcherniakov til they squirm. There is no reason to assume, like the Trojans and Tcherniakov do, that the impending disaster is all in Cassandre's mind. 

D'Oustrac's Cassandre was matched by Stéphane Degout's equally impressive Chorèbe, sung with such depth and conviction that he made the role come alive, so vivid and human :  what a pity that Chorèbe has to die in the First Act !  Luxury casting : D'Oustrac and Dégout interacted so  well, and with such verve that their performance would be memorable on its own terms. 

Carthage here is an anonymous office space, which worked fine in Tcherniakov's Carmen, because it evoked the displaced ennui behind the desperation of Carmen and her companions.  But as the libretto makes clear,  Didon's Carthage is a happy place, where people have built constructive lives.  Didon is a much loved success : she's given others asylum, she's not "in" an asylum, needing help.  Unless you think that being kind to refugees is madness. Had the performances of Brandon Jovanovich and Ekaterina Sementchuk  been on the same level as D'Oustrac and Dégout, one might forgive the banal staging,. Jovanovich and Sementchuk weren't bad, but didn't quite rise to the heights, either.  A rather depressing Royal Hunt and Storm, saved by Jordan's incisive conducting, splendidly luminous in the love scene, and demonic in the storm.  So rewarding, in fact, you could enjoy this Les Troyens as an orchestral exercise.  

Very well cast minor roles -  Véronique Gens as Hécube and Paata Burchulzade as Priam, who can still create character, Thomas Dear as The Ghost of Hector, Aude Extrémo as Anna, Cyrille Dubois as Iopas,Michèle Losier as a very fetching Ascagne, Christian van Horn as Narbal.   At the end D'Oustrac, Dégout, Gens, Burchulzade and Dear return as ghosts, raising the staging from the grave.   With this conductor, this orchestra and most of this cast, this Les Troyens could have been brilliant, but  let's hope we won't have to wait another 30 years for a better production. This staging might be fine in some provincial house,  but Paris is not the place for it.

Off on adventures ! François-Xavier Roth, Les Siècles, all Berlioz livestream Paris

Livestreamed from the Philharmonie de Paris, François-Xavier Roth and Les Siècles in an all-Berlioz programme featuring Berlioz Harold en Italie, with Overtures from Benvenuto Cellini, from  Le Carnaval Romain op 9, and Béatrice et Bénédict and the sections "Roméo seul" and "Grande fête chez Capulet" from Roméo et Juliette op 17

A Romantic Harold en Italie op 16 H68 1834 in the true sense of the term "Romantic". Roth and Les Siècles capture the aesthetic of the early 19th century when wild dreams, adventure and concepts of freedom and individuality transformed European culture.  The modern use of the term "romantic" is a dumbing-down of the Romantic vision : we need to re-engage with what Romanticism was to appreciate Berlioz and other composers of his time. That is what "historically informed performance" really is : not instruments per se but performance practice that grows from an understanding of a composer and his influences.  In the case of Berlioz, this is particularly important since Berlioz was fascinated by new instrumental colours. His Grand Traité d’Instrumentation et d’Orchestration Modernes - note the word "modernes" was published at around the same time as Harold en Italie was written, so Les Siècles use instruments from the time in which Berlioz was working.  The result is brighter, cleaner, less "polluted":  Byron and his hero Harold travelling in landscapes still unexplored and unknown.  Roth, his orchestra and Tabea Zimmermann the soloist, make Harold en Italie feel fresh and new, as it might have when it was new.

"Berlioz", Roth has said, "like other innovative orchestrators, brought out the best qualities of the instruments he had at his disposal at the time. He kept up with the latest developments in instrument making and, like a chef, was keen to use the right ingredient to season his musical recipe. It’s really exciting to encounter the original flavours of the instruments of his time because you realise almost instantly what these new combinations of timbres were........"With Harold en Italie, things are much more complex: the viola is not a concertante soloist, as it would be in a Romantic concerto, but rather a musical character, a narrator, an actor in the story of Harold that is related to us. Berlioz

invented a genuinely new role here in the relationship between the soloist and the orchestra."

In the Romantic aesthetic, heroes are loners in a vast landscape, accentuating the monumental challenges before them. Berlioz's first

movement is titled "Harold aux montagnes". Ominous figures loom up in the orchestra, ascendant lines stretching outwards. When Zimmermann enters, her line is quietly confident, garlanded by harp and winds. Just as the hero engages with the panorama, the viola engages with the orchestra : a good balance here, the soloist not overwhelmed by larger forces. The movement ends with a sense of adventure. In the "Marche des pèlerins", the understated melodic line in the orchestra suggests the humility of pilgrims, singing as they journey. Thus the arppegiated chords, the viola beside the orchestra.

In the third movement, the use of period instruments brings out the distinctive timbres and rhythms of folk music in the serenade and

saltarello. The dances become drama in the "Orgie des Brigandes". Brigands, like gypsies in 19th century folklore, represent "natural"

forces, freedom versus inhibition, danger versus comfort. Thus the quicksilver energy with which Les Siècles brings this movement to life :

even the quieter figure before the entry of the viola bristles with anticipation.

Roth and Les Siècles have recorded Berlioz Harold en Italie with Tabea Zimmermann, recently released by Harmonia Mundi  coupled with an equally individual  Les Nuits d'été op 7 with baritone Stéphane Degout. (Please read more here).

At the Philharmonie de Paris live, to highlight the sense of"things to come" Roth and Les Siècles presented Harold en Italie with a group of Overtures from Benveuto Cellini, from  Le Carnaval Romain op 9, and Béatrice et Bénédict . Curtain raiser after curtain raiser!  Then "Roméo seul" and "Grande fête chez Capulet" from Roméo et Juliette op 17.All performed with Roth's characteristic zest.  A programme that made me think about Berlioz as innovator and man of the theatre in every sense. Music can be thrilling as drama even when it's not attached to an opera or larger work. As an encore,  Roth and Les Siècles concluded with the Hungarian March from Berlioz's The Damnation of Faust op 24, for which Zimmerman sat in with the orchestra’s violists. Catch the livestream on the Philharmonie de Paris website until June 2019.

Berlioz : Harold en Italie, Les Nuits d'été - Roth, Zimmermann, Degout

Hector Berlioz Harold en Italie with François-Xavier Roth and Les Siècles with Tabea Zimmermann,  plus Stéphane Degout in Les Nuits d'été from Hamonia Mundi.  This Harold en Italie op. 16, H 68 (1834) captures the essence of Romantic yearning, expressed in Byron's Childe Harold's Pilgrimage where the hero rejects convention to seek his destiny in  uncharted territory. 

This is what "Romanticism" meant to those who lived in the early and mid 19th century, very different indeed from what "romanticism" has come to mean since the mid 20th century. This helps frame Les Nuits d'été with baritone rather than the more common version for female voice. Berlioz has been a strong presence in the history of Les Siècles virtually since the orchestra was formed. they featurev every year at the Berlioz Festival in La Côte-Saint-André.  Roth established his Berlioz credentials early on, as assistant to Sir Colin Davis at the London Symphony Orchestra, and has also worked with Sir John Eliot Gardiner. "Berlioz", says Roth, "like other innovative orchestrators, brought out the best qualities of the instruments he had at his disposal at the time. He kept up with the latest developments in instrument making and, like a chef, was keen to use the right ingredient to season his musical recipe. It’s really exciting to encounter the original flavours of the instruments of his time because you realise almost instantly what these new combinations of timbres were".  He adds "With Harold en Italie, things are much more complex: the viola is not a concertante soloist, as it would be in a Romantic concerto, but rather a musical character, a narrator, an actor in the story of Harold that is related to us. Berlioz invented a genuinely new role here in the relationship between the soloist and the orchestra.  Roth often compares Harold en Italie to Richard Strauss’s Don Quixote "a symphonic poem with a principal cello which also seems to embody a character".  Perhaps that was why Paganini was at first dismayed, since he had hoped for a vehicle for solo viola. 

In the Romantic aesthetic, heroes are loners in a vast landscape, accentuating the monumental challenges before them. Berlioz's first movement is titled "Harold aux montagnes". Ominous figures loom up in the orchestra, ascendant lines stretching outwards. When Zimmermann enters, her line is quietly confident, garlanded  by harp and winds. Just as the hero engages with the panorama, the viola engages with the orchestra : a good balance here, the soloist not ovewhelmed by larger forces. As Roth himself writes, "Harold’s melody seeks to bring out these specific timbres and rhythms, the grain of the sound. (And here the decision of François-Xavier Roth and Les Siècles to use period instruments once again demonstrates its importance, its necessity.) superimposed on the other orchestral voices, and contrasts with them in tempo and character without interrupting their development". The movement ends with a sense of adventure. In the "Marche des pèlerins",  the understated melodic line in the orchestra suggests the humility of pilgrims, singing as they journey.  Thus the arppegiated chords, the viola beside the orchestra.

In the third movement, the use of period instruments brings out the distinctive timbres and rhytms of folk music in the serenade and saltarello.  The dances become drama in the "Orgie des Brigandes".  Brigands, like gypsies in 19th century folklore, represent "natural" forces, freedom versus inhibition, danger versus comfort.  Thus the quicksilver energy with which Les Siècles brings this movement to  life : even the quieter figure before the entry of the viola bristles with anticipation.  A glorious coda !

Berlioz orchestrated Les Nuits d'été op 7 for different voice types, though they are usually done by female singers, so there is no reason per se why they can't be tackled by men ; tenors have done them fairly frequently in the past.  On this recording, paired with Harold en Italie, a male voice extends the idea of a "hero" bravely venturing forth. In any case,  Stéphane Degout has the range and finesse.    Indeed, a stronger, deeper voice highlights the punching rhythms in "Villanelle", and brings out the erotic allure in the line "Et dis-moi de ta voix si douce :'Toujours'.”  The resonance of Degout's timbre also works well with the more elaboarate orchestration of "Le spectre de la Rose", which includes  prominent parts for cello, clarinet, flute and harp.  Berlioz orchestrated "Sur les lagunes" for baritone, so the fit between voice and the flowing "water" sounds in the orchestra.  A soaring "Ah ! sans    amour s’en aller sur la mer !". "Absence" is followed by a very good "Au Cimetière - Clair de Lune" where Degout restrains the inherent power in his voice, suggesting mystery.  A stylish "L'île inconnue", further proof that it is not so much voice type that makes these songs work, but artistry.