Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924)
Pénélope – Poème lyrique en 3 actes
Jessye Norman (soprano): Pénélope; Jocelyne Taillon (mezzo-soprano): Euryclée; Alain Vanzo (tenor): Ulysse; Philippe Huttenlocher (baritone): Eurymaque; José Van Dam (bass): Eumée
Jean Laforgue Vocal Ensemble
Monte-Carlo Phllharmonic Orchestra/Charles Dutoit
rec. May & June 1980, Palais des Congrès, Monte Carlo. ADD
Erato 2292-45405-2 [2 CDs: 124]
This is the only studio recording of Fauré’s second opera and has never been reviewed on MusicWeb. There was, however, a live account first released on LP, then on CD on the GOP and Rodolphe labels, described as a “World premiere recording on 24th May 1956 at Théâtre des Champs-Élysées”, and conducted by the veteran Désiré-Émile Ingelbrecht with Régine Crespin, Raoul Jobin and Robert Massard, and another CD set on Gala recorded live in 1977 and conducted by David Lloyd-Jones, starring Josephine Veasey, André Turp and Richard Van Allan, both of which I would like to hear.
The work took Fauré six years to write, which indicates that the genre did not come easily to him and its subsequent neglect by both opera houses and recording labels is perhaps understandable, insofar as theatrical drama was supposedly not Fauré’s forte – but the classical story is per se dramatic, much of the music is beautiful and it was rapturously received in Paris, even if its reception at its premiere two months earlier in Monte Carlo, was cool. Fauré employs motifs in the Wagnerian style but his music is hardly Wagnerian. It is more closely related to Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande but without that opera’s psychological profundity or mystique. Nonetheless, it tells a good tale. René Fauchois’ libretto is at times very “literary” and in truth can come across as a little laboured and pretentious, such as in the opening chorus of the maids spinning (shades of “Summ und Brumm” in Der fliegende Holländer?); it does not always have the concentration and pithiness characteristic of the best operatic texts – but then, Wagner was hardly terse…
The large cast here could hardly be starrier in that it is replete with famous names, starting with Jessye Norman and Alain Vanzo, the most prominent post-WWII French lyric tenor – though despite the accomplishment of his singing, his presence in fact constitutes the recording’s greatest weakness, in that he hardly sounds like the ageing, grizzled hero who slaughters the importunate suitors.
I last listened to this recording probably thirty years ago before embarking upon this review and my re-acquaintance with it surprised me. I recall finding it rather dull but not this time: indeed, I would go so far as to say that the oft-repeated accusation that it is “wispy and meandering, in typical French manner” is unfair; indeed, the exchanges among the maidservants and suitors even remind me a little of those at the beginning of Strauss’ Elektra – not musically, of course, but in terms of theatricality. Scenes such as when the suitors discover that Pénélope is nightly undoing her work on the loom are really very effective and the music is…subtle, yes – but carefully wrought; Fauré took great pains to be true to his own idiom and reworked passages repeatedly until they were crafted to his satisfaction. I hesitate to confer the precious title “connoisseur’s opera” upon Pénélope but it is tempting to do so.
Jessye Norman is in patrician voice as the queen: regal, passionate, dreamy and contemptuous by turns, rising to shining, fearless top Bs at the end of “Il reviendra” and “Ulysse! Fier époux! ” – not exactly arias but sustained, melodic declamations. The rest of the cast sings flawlessly. As mentioned above, Vanzo makes something of a “pretty boy” Ulysses – perhaps Jon Vickers would have been a more apt piece of casting – but he sings so expressively. The same is true of the young José van Dam, singing as smoothly and nobly as befits…a king rather than a shepherd – but let that pass, as his contribution is such balm to the ears. To be fair, too, Vanzo achieves a greater gravitas in his narrative to his wife of how he was once king and host to Ulysses (himself, of course) and that exchange is moving – but then I balk at lines like
“The husband who once deflowered
All trembling with passionate love,
The shrinking lily of your virginity”…
(perhaps it’s worse in English than French). Oddly, chordal blasts such as that which greets the appearance of the queen in Act III remind me of Bartók’s Duke Bluebeard – which is not perhaps so strange after all, as Fauré himself said he was pushing the boundaries of tonality without leaving them behind. I find that final act dramatically quite compelling; the tension builds credibly as the suitors pressure Pénélope to choose one of them as husband, unaware of Ulysses’ mounting rage and the mortal fate which awaits them, then try in vain to bend his bow against the backdrop of a rising storm – and I thoroughly enjoy the final scene in which Ulysses reveals himself and is reunited with his wife; owing to the penetrative power of his tenor, Vanzo’s voice is not dwarfed by Norman’s in the final duet and triumphant chorus.
The analogue sound is fine, if slightly recessed and Dutoit seems entirely in sympathy with Fauré’s style, such that I am not conscious of the manner of his direction or the virtuosity of his orchestra; they are unobtrusive in the best sense, in that they are utterly in service of the music. I enjoy this very much more than I had foreseen.
It is currently available only as a download, but used copies of the CD issue may still be picked up, either in the original Erato issue with a full French libretto with English and German translation, or sans texts on the Erato/Warner Classics bargain label.
Ralph Moore
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Other cast
Colette Alliot-Lugaz (soprano): Alkandre; Christine Barbaux (soprano): Phylo; Danièlle Borst (soprano): Lydie; Michèle Command (soprano): Mélantho; Norma Lerar (soprano: Cléone; Jean Dupouy (tenor): Antinoüs; Paul Guigue (baritone): Ctésippe; Gérard Friedmann (tenor): Léodés; François Leroux (baritone): Pisandre.
