Dangerous Liaisons - Dance and Music - OAE Lully Rameau

Dangerous Liaisions with the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment at the Queen Elizabeth Hall.   Joined by  Les Corps Éloquents (Hubert Hazebrouq, choreographer, Irène Feste and Romain Arreghini, the OAE surpoassed even their own high standards, demonstating the link between music and dance in the French baroque. More than 40 extracts, primarily from Lully and Rameau, were chosen to form a highly original compilation, unfolding in thematic sequence : Idyllic Delight, Seduction, a Ballet des Fleurs, Vexation, Loss and Despair, Frolics and Mischief, with Reconciliation, the happy ending.   It's quite an achievement to put together more than 40 disparate extracts so they flow together naturally, yet with much variety. Like Le Concert Royal de la Nuit, (more here) this cohered well, an excellent summary of style and content.   Much admiration is due to  the OAE's Principal Flute Lisa Beznosiuk, who curated this with the support of an OAE team and Hubert Hazebroucq, who choreographed the dancing in period style.  This was also an exercise in French declamatory song style, with period (not modern) pronunciation, so credit is due, too, to soloists Anna Dennis and Nick Pritchard.  Conducted by John Butt, the OAE were in vivacious form : a delightful two and a half hours which passed all too quickly.

Like a prologue to a drama, the OAE began with Lully's Overture from Le Triomphe de L'Amour , followed by six miniatures, four from Lully's Thésée (1675)   "Aimons tout nous y convie, on aime ici sans danger".  Notice the archaic language, which did mater, since it complemented the stylized, idealized sentiments in the text, and in this context reminded us that the world of the baroque needs to be understood on its own terms. Thus the dancing, very different to what we take for granted today.  Like the art of fencing, dance prepared young noblemen with skills much needed in Court cicrles : physical fitness, mental discipline, alertness to strategy and form and an awareness of elegant presentation.  Thus the stances - hands and feet held at angles, foot positions which would have developed formidable muscles, enabling the dancer to control his position until he was ready to execute swift, decisive changes.  The formal patterns of dance also reflected concepts of social and cosmic order, the individual functioning as part of an emsemble.

Hazebroucq's choreography is based on extensive archival research but also on the relationship between dance and music, so fundamental to the baroque aesthetic.  Lully didn't conduct with a staff for nothing : he was (literally) beating time, creating a percussive foundation for music that was made to be moved to.  Hence the vigorous rhythms and exuberance, at times reminiscent of military marches and fanfares. Period instruments pack an earthy punch, horns and percusssion evoking  instruments  from even more archaic times, complementing the baroque fascination with classical antiquity.  The stringed instruments, plucked or bowed, added variety and character, sometimes providing continuo, or embarking on flights of inventiveness.  Seeing the dancers move in close relation to the music enhanced understanding of the musical logic. 
Thoughtfully, this Liaisons Dangereuses (like the novel that is told in letters, not narrative), interleaved an extract from Lully's Les Noces de Village (1663),between the pieces from Lully's Thésée. Philinte and Climene are idealized shepherd and shepherdess, more personable than  the more stylised, abstract evocations of love in Thésée. This also served to show that court dance, even when inspired by pastoral fantasy, was not folk dance but far more sophisticated.  The second section, "Seduction",  combined extracts from André Campra's L'Europe Galante (1697) and Lully's Le Bourgeois Genthilhomme (1670),, the vaguely "Spanish" allusions adding exotic spice, to the dancing as much as to the music.   In the Interlude, a "Ballet des Fleurs" , the dancers enacted an allegory in which three figures interact as lovers and rivals, eventually finding reconciliation. This is an allegory in music, too, combining Gavottes and Airs sourced from Rameau's Les Indes Galantes and Lully's Atys (1676), allowing the dancers ample room for elegant, intricate pattterns of movement.  The section "Vexation" was based on Lully's Armide (1686), where the sorceress Armide tries to seduce Renaud.   Anna Dennis was particularly impressive in this splendid role with Nick Pritchard her foil,  dancers in black, the orchestra conjuring up a storm..

The section "Loss and Despair" began with the Prelude from Charpentier's Orphée descendant aux enfers (1684) setting the scene.  An extract from Lully's Ballet royal de la Naissance de Venus (1665)  prepared the way for Orpheus "Tu ne la pendras point, hélas, pour me le rendre"  and Proserpine's "Courage Orphée, étale ici les plus grands charmes", also from Charpentier's La descent d'Orphee aux Enfers depict the Underworld. But love itself does not die. Venus (Anna Dennis) sang "Amiable Vainqueur" from Campra's Hésione (1700), neatly connecting the Orpheus legend with a tragédie en musique  wth characters from other parts of classicl mythology.  "Love that is strong enough can "Désarmer le Dieu de la Guerre: le Dieu de la Tonnere" evoked by the wind machines, crashes of percussion and baleful brass in the orchestra.   After the tumult, fantasy and fun.  From Rameau's Platée (1745) a satire, and a parody from Jean-Joseph Mouret's Les Amours de Ragonde (1714) . In the former, the gods squabble, causing invertebrates and mortals to fall in unrequited love. In the latter, couples end up mismatched. Colin, who ends up wed to his would be mother in law sings mock peasant dialect "Je ne songeons qu'uà bien aimer, je rougirions d'être volage".  Warped humour, the opposite of idealized courtly love, but an opportunity to see the dancers imitate folksy jigs and "exotic" dances.  But all is resolved in the final tableau, Reconciliation.  Eglé and Mercury  sort out their differences in a dialogue from Rameau's Les Fêtes d'Hébé (1739) and Calatée, Mercure, Zoroaster and Amelite sort out theirs in Rameau's Zoroastre (1739).
Please also see

Rameau  Zaïs HERE. (Anna Dennis, Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment
Rameau Pygmalion and Anacreon danced HERE (OAE, danced by Les Paisirs des Nations),
Rousseau Le Devin de Village HERE (Hubert Hazebrouque, choreographer)
and much else

Rameau Maître à danser William Christie

Rameau : Maître à danser with William Christie and Les Arts Florissants in the famed production at Le théâtre de Caen, from 2014,  still (just) available on Culturebox.  Notice, Maître à danser, not master of the dance but a master to be danced to: there's a difference.  Dance is movement, formalized into art.  Dance encapsulates the values of the baroque, where art meant civilisation, refinement over nature, orderliness over abundance.  Rameau was a music theorist as well as a composer, his music shaped by the values of his time. The pulse of dance invigorates his music, and informs its intricate patterns.  We can hear it animate the music. Now, fortunately, thanks to extensive modern research, we can also watch music being danced to, in stagings that reflect the spirit of the period.

In this performance, Christie presents Daphnis et Églé  (1753), written as a private entertainment for Louis XV and his court at Fontainebleau, after days spent out in the forests hunting for game. Context is relevant. It also commemorates the birth of a royal princes, and dynastic continuity.  The King wanted to be amused, but the show also had to flatter his image of power.  Thus both pieces present Happy Peasants, acting out simple, innocent lives, their peaceful idylls made possible by the benevolence of the King.   

Daphnis et Églé is basically a masque for dancing,  Daphnis (Reinoud Van Mechelen) and Églé (Élodie Fonnard), shepherd and shepherdess, are friends who gradually fall in love over a sequence of 16 tableaux.  Daphnis flirts with a stranger, singing a lovely air. Églé drags him away.  Cupid appears, with wings and a wooden bow and arrow.  Daphnis presents  Églé  with a bow. Later, heavily "pregnant, they embrace as happy peasants dance around them.  Van Mechelen and Fonnard are familiar names on the French baroque circuit. Fonnard's particularly pert and dramatic  and Van Mechelen has good stage presence. The first performance of this piece in 1753 flopped, apparently because the singers were duds. Fonnard and Van Mechelen are good. They're delightfully fresh.  But singing is only part of the dramatic whole, contrary to modern notions about the past.  There isn't much of a plot, and what narrative there is unfolds in stylized symbols. In the final sequence, Églé carries a doll, representing a new-born babe. Louis XV and his Queen, with their infant prince, would have been flattered.Contrary to modern assumptions, the singing, though beautiful, does not take precedence over all else.  Baroque values emphasized balance and natural order, ensemble not diva-ism.  Van Mechelen has a lovely passage "Chantez ! Chantez", garlanded by woodwinds that sing like birds, bringing "nature" into the proceedings, and the idea of natural purity. The long dance sequences, punctuated by simple percussion, emphasize the orchestra over the singers.  Indeed, the chorus has almost as much to do as the singers.   

Daphnis et Églé works well when its slender charms aren't overwhelmed by excess opulence. Daneman's staging reflects this innocence, A simple cloth is held up on sticks to suggest  peasant theatre.  Alain Blanchot's costumes (organic dyed fabric?) show the shepherds and shepherdesses in what would have been normal 18th century costume for their class, ie "modern" for the time. Daneman has worked with Christie since their first Hippolyte et Aricie together some 20 years ago. 

This stylized simplicity is of the essence, since The King wanted to portray himself as father of his people, a populace too childlike and naive to object.  Little did he know what would happen in 1789!

 Françoise Denieau choreographed. Each of these danced sequences represent a different type of dance. Fans of early dance will enthuse about the finerMdetails, and the names of each type of dance, the arm movements and the position of feet.  Baroque dance stemmed from athletics aristocrats practiced to keep fit and to fence. It's more stylized than 19th century ballet, and, serves the music. It isn't over-elaborate, since the purpose of the piece was conceptual idealism.  It feels like hearing the score come alive. When the music takes precedence, there are some lovely moments.  The Three Graces appear, in skimpy flesh coloured chemises, their arms held in expansive gestures. A young man dances with them. I'm not sure "who" he represents, but his graceful agility is a joy to watch.  

I first heard Christie's  Maître à danser  live at the Barbican in 2014, soon after the Caen premiere, together with another miniature, marking the birth of a second young prince, who would become the ill-fated Louis XVI.  In London, I think we got a truncated version of the two pieces, but I can't remember exactly.  Please see my other posts on Rameau's Zaïs HERE. and on  Pigmalion and Anacréon HERE

Rousseau Le Devin du Village staged at Versailles

Jean-Jacques Rousseau's opera Le Devin du Village, (1753) at the Petit Théâtre de la Reine at Versailles last July, now available on Culturebox.  Listening to opera audio-only is sterile and unnatural.  For Rousseau and his contemporaries the idea that any one aspect of opera could be cut out of context was anathema. Opera was meant to be enjoyed as part of social life, which at Versailles meant the aesthetic of the surroundings. The film begins as the camera pans in on the palace and its vast formal gardens. Versailles was more than a royal residence; it was and is the symbol of audacious vision.  The performance takes place in the theatre at le Petit Trianon, built for Marie Antoinette in 1780 where the opera was performed, capturing its intimate, elegant scale which is absolutely part of meaning. Like Versailles iitself, the opera encompasses in miniature the essence of the world beyond, Nature contained, distilled and civilized.  Yet paradoxically it's also a reminder that Nature cannot be tamed. The palace is ringed by ancient forests in which the King would hunt. He hardly needed to catch his own dinner : hunting was a ritual monarchs enacted for fun and fresh air, but also to display their dominance. Though Marie Antoinette wasn't to know what was coming, we do, and that knowledge does affect our appreciation.
It is also significant that Rousseau was a philosopher. Le Devin du Village is more than mindless entertainment in the modern sense.  For audiences of the Age of Reason, art was inextricably part of wider human experience. Without ideas, no art !  While baroque operas can be enjoyed on a very basic level, they are almost always allegorical, with concealed sub texts. At le Petit Trianon, Marie Antoinette had a farm but no way was she going to muck in with the peasants. Imagined Nature served a purpose, presenting an ideal that was probably impossible to attain.  The noble savages in Rameau's Les Indes galantes  weren't carefree. Theatre is not naturalistic : it is artifice, not reality.  We need to understand the real traditions of opera to detoxify modern notions of  "tradition" based on movies and TV.  The photo above shows a cloud descending from the heavens bearing a crown which Colette accepts, as if such things happened every day : a device that would enrage "traditional" audiences today.

The flats are clearly painted, the stage is empty apart from chairs for the singers to sit in when they're not in action. Gestures are stylized and the singers, dancers and musicians wear what was normal costume in court circles of the period.  Dance is integral to the whole aesthetic. Like the gardens of Versailles, dance is a formalization of nature, movement organized into patterns.  Baroque dance is structured, like athletics, employing the body into the whole concept.  Thus the large ensemble when most of the cast is on stage, together, carefully choreographed and vocally balanced.  Dance is pulse, and pulse the basis of music.  Separate the two and lose the plot.  It would be impossible and inadvisable to recreate the full baroque experience, but this production is a glimpse into what might have been. For the rest, we use our imaginations, based on what we've learned.  Les Nouveaux Caractères are conducted by Sébastien d'Hérin. The dancers are Le Compagnie d'Eloquents, choreograped by Hubert Hazebrocq. Singers are Caroline Mutel (Colette), Cyrille Dubois (Colin), and Frédéric Caton (Le Devin).  Historic staging by Jean-Paul Gousset.  It would be impossible to recreate the full baroque experience,  but in this staging we get a glimpse into what might have been, from which we can learn the foundations of French style.
Please read Reconsidering Rousseau's Le devin du Village : an opera of surprising and valuable paradox by Edward Green (Ars lyrica, 2007)  for a more detailed analysis of the score and ideas behind it.  Note his final paragraph : "Without exception, every aria in this opera is cast in a dance rhythm. In and of itself, this is evidence of a profound attempt on Rousseau’s part to reconcile individual and collective feeling. An aria is an opportunity for the assertion of individual feeling, and yet community is always implied, since a steady dance beat always implies the need to coordinate community. Thus, with a lovely equipoise of individual and communal singing – Colette alternating with the community as a whole – and in an infectious, swinging 6/8 meter, Le devin du village ends with the call : Allons danser!" 

The Sun King Dances - Le Ballet Royal de la Nuit

Le Ballet Royal de la Nuit, performed at Caen last month, broadcast on France Musique HERE, with Sébastien Daucé and Ensemble Correspondances who recreated the spectacle for modern audiences,  preserved in their recording for Harmonia Mundi in 2015. The original was performed only once, on 23rd February 1653, in the palace of Petit-Bourbon in Paris : an extravaganza where the star was its subject : Louis XIV, the King of France. No way could the original be matched today.  It ran for 13 hours solid,  from darkness to dawn, dawn being, of course the return of the sun. Thus Louis revealed himself as the Sun King, his countenance bringing light to the nation.  He appeared, in the costume pictured right,  dressed as the sun, the centre of the solar system, the bringer of light and growth.   An audacious statement, so dazzling that the court was stunned into submission.  And he was only 14 years old.  Though Louis wasn't formally crowned until the following year, Le Ballet Royal de la Nuit marked the beginning of his reign of glory.

Le Ballet Royal de la Nuit also marks the beginning of modern music, opera and ballet.  It comprised music from several composers, (Jean de Cambefort, Antoine Boësset, Louis Constantin, Michel Lambert — Lully's father-in-law, Francesco Cavalli, Luigi Rossi),  secular as well as religious. It evolves in four parts, comprising numerous scena and interludes, depicting the known and unknown world. Gods and Symbolic Dieties mix with mortals and (glorified)  peasants, represented the multitudes whom Louis would rule over, in fact as well as in allegory.  Musicians, singers, dancers, acrobats, jugglers : the plethora of styles and skills reflected the diversity of the Empire and the scale of Louis's ambition, the abundance of human experience elegantly ordered into artistic form.  Later, Louis's minions would create the gardens of Versailles,  "civilizing" nature in formal parterres, preserving the forests beyond, for hunting.  In the Grand Ballet with which the spectacle ends, Louis danced - not folk dance by any means, but a form of pageant derived from courtly disciplines like gymnastics. Fencing was aristocrat physical fitness, but also good training for minds that had to keep alert and wary,  keeping counsel but acting swiftly and decisively when need. arose.  Medieval jousting, adapted for more sophisticated intrigue.  Dance was a principal foundation of French Opéra, but also influenced the development of French music in a wider sense,where  the virtues of clarity, lucidity and intelligence prevail. Passion is no less intense in a cultivated mind, it's just more focused.

Le Ballet Royal de la Nuit is a metaphor for French style.  Its audacity lies in its extravagant imagination, elegance restraining excess, technical achievement balanced by refinement, agility and energy.  When Sébastien Daucé and Ensemble Correspondances made their recording for Harmonia Mundi, the release was audio only, though the performance was partly staged.  Yet this first great Gesammstkunstwerk was meant to be seen as well as to be heard.  Perhaps one day, who knows? Til then, there are clips and stills to stimulate the mind.  Read more about the original HERE and enjoy the videos in THIS LINK.