Hector Berlioz (1803-1869)
Roméo et Juliette, Symphonie dramatique (1839)
Cléopâtre (1829)
Joyce DiDonato (mezzo-soprano); Cyrille Dubois (tenor); Christopher Maltman (baritone)
Coro Gulbenkian
Chœur de l’OnR
Orchestre Philharmonique de Strasbourg/John Nelson
rec. 2022, Salle Érasme, Palais de la Musique et des Congrès, Strasbourg
French texts included
Erato 5419748138 [2 CDs: 112]
John Nelson has been recording the music of Berlioz for Erato for a long time: what I think was his first recording for them – Béatrice et Bénédict – was made as far back as 1991 with Lyon Opéra forces. Subsequently, he’s made recordings in Strasbourg: Les Troyens in 2017; La Damnation de Faust in 2019; and there was also a live account of the Grande Messe des Morts in London in 2019. He’s also recorded Benvenuto Cellini, Harold en Italie and Les Nuits d’été, though I’ve not heard those recordings. In 2022 he returned to Strasbourg for concert performances of Roméo et Juliette from which this present recording derives.
Roméo et Juliette, one of the works in which Berlioz expressed in musical terms his obsession with Shakespeare, is a work of great individuality on several fronts. I hope it goes without saying that the music itself is highly individual – and masterly. But it’s also the format of the score which makes this ‘Symphonie dramatique’ stand out. For one thing, we never get to hear the eponymous lovers. Whenever Romeo or Juliet is “heard” it’s the orchestra which gives them voice, most notably in the ‘Scène d’amour’ and also in the scene at the tomb. The ‘Scène d’amour’ is rightly regarded as the heart of the work; indeed, it’s often performed as a separate item, which is how I first encountered it as a member of a student orchestra over fifty years ago. (How little I knew of Berlioz in those days!) However, the tomb scene is a masterpiece of concise writing. In a mere 9 ½ minutes of music (in this performance) Berlioz depicts vividly Romeo’s arrival at the tomb, his discovery of Juliet’s lifeless body, his despairing suicide, Juliet’s awakening and the false dawn of hope, and finally her own death. The only character from the play who has a part in Berlioz’s drama is Friar Laurence: the other two soloists are, in effect, commentators – though is the tenor perhaps to be regarded as Mercutio? Its also remarkable that Berlioz requires three soloists yet gives each one of them a part in only one episode in the work, with the tenor’s contribution particularly brief.
In this present performance, the first of the soloists that we hear is Joyce DiDonato. She has the wonderful ‘Strophes’ to sing. I greatly admire the fullness of tone and the expressiveness she brings to this touching music. Part of Berlioz’s genius was to pare back the orchestral accompaniment to bare essentials – often the singer only has harp accompaniment – so we can focus strongly on Ms DiDonato. I think she gives a beautiful performance and the orchestral and semi-chorus contributions are done with great sensitivity as well.
Tenor Cyrille Dubois is next up (‘Mab, la messagère’). He’s the only francophone soloist and though this part has also been recorded by tenors who aren’t native French speakers, I’m sure that when singing this rapid music and articulating the point-of-a-needle words it must be an advantage if one is singing in one’s native tongue. Dubois is nimble and precise as, indeed, are the semi-chorus and orchestra.
We have to wait until the very end of the work to hear Christopher Maltman as Friar Laurence. At the start of his contribution (‘Je vais dévoiier la mystère’) he’s authoritative and reproachful. Later on, as he admonishes the feuding Montagues and Capulets, he’s a real authority figure as he shames them and points out to them their joint and several responsibility for the tragic deaths. Maltman sings throughout with great feeling and presence, though I wonder if some listeners may feel his vibrato is too pronounced.
John Nelson is well served by his combined choirs – the semi-chorus is particularly praiseworthy – while the members of Orchestre Philharmonique de Strasbourg offer distinguished and highly disciplined playing. Nelson conducts with authority: the bustle and energy of the fugal opening, for example, will certainly grab your attention. We know him to be a seasoned Berlioz interpreter and he seems to me to have the measure of the score. In the ‘Scène d’amour’ he’s not quite as expansive as some conductors I’ve heard: when that wonderful, long-breathed melody is introduced by the woodwind (5:50) I wished he’d given the music just a fraction more space; on the other hand, elsewhere in the scene he vividly conveys the ardour and impetuosity of the young lovers. Nelson ensures that the ‘La Reine Mab’ scherzo is fleet of foot; the orchestra respond to his direction with deft playing.
Overall, I think Sir Colin Davis still reigns supreme in recordings of this great, hugely imaginative score. That said, Nelson impressed me very much. Furthermore, his soloists, choirs and orchestra all deliver the goods. This live recording benefits from very good sound and I detected no intrusive noises to indicate the presence of an audience; there’s no applause at the end, though I bet that at the actual concerts the performers received a well-earned ovation.
Admirers of Joyce DiDonato, amongst whom I include myself, will be glad to see that the set includes a significant bonus in the shape of Cléopâtre. This was one of Berlioz’s unsuccessful entries for the Prix de Rome. The Prix jurors were a notoriously conservative bunch – and, in addition, there was often more than a hint of nepotism in their verdicts. Whist Cléopâtre may not rank as one of Berlioz’s greatest achievements it’s still a pretty remarkable score and so full of original touches that it comes as no surprise to learn that the jury, presented with his score, suffered a collective dose of the vapours. As David Cairns put it in his notes accompanying Dame Janet Baker’s 1979 recording, “[Berlioz’s] whole approach smacked of subversiveness and indiscipline, even to the lack of respect with which he treated the given text, altering or transposing phrases and ignoring the distinction between recitative and aria”. Of course, for us, listening today, it’s precisely that defiance of the Prix’s stifling convention that makes Cléopâtre so worthwhile.
Joyce DiDonato gives a searingly dramatic reading, full of commitment. She identifies completely with the despair and defiance of Cléopatre. Furthermore, her singing is appropriately imperious. She’s backed up to the hilt by Nelson and the orchestra, who collectively project Berlioz’s orchestral score vividly. The piece is a great test of the vocal compass of the soloist; Ms DiDonato demonstrates a lustrous lower register and also treats us to some thrilling top notes. The very end, with the singing drained and despairing, accompanied by quietly shuddering strings, is very affecting. That said, when I made comparisons with the 1979 Janet Baker/Colin Davis recording, I was reminded that this offers even more. Of course, Baker’s voice is utterly distinctive and that’s an important factor. But even more important is what she does with the words. She invests the text with even more expression and meaning than does Joyce Di Donato – and that’s saying something. So, though I enjoyed and greatly admire the new DiDonato/Nelson recording, my allegiance to Baker/Davis remains unshaken. I’m not sure, though, that the Baker recording is still available and the DiDonato version is a compelling achievement in its own right. I believe it was made under studio conditions; the recorded sound is excellent
John Nelson is one of the foremost of today’s Berlioz conductors and this set shows why he’s so highly regarded. Berlioz devotees who have yet to discover his work would find this a good place to start.
I’m afraid Erato earn a big black mark in terms of documentation. The booklet contains a useful and detailed essay by Christian Wasselin. The essay is printed in English, French and German. Unfortunately, Erato have only provided the libretto in the original French. Given that this is an international release I’m astonished that translations have not been included – fortunately, I have other recordings of both works and was able to find translations there; other collectors may not have that luxury. Right at the end of the booklet, tucked away, I found two QR codes. One allows you to view a film of the Roméo et Juliette concert performance. The other enables you to download an “extended booklet”, which includes English and German translations. I’m sure Erato would argue that this is as good as providing translations in the booklet. I’d respectfully but strongly disagree and I note that they provided in the respective booklets an English translation of the entire libretto of Les Troyens and both English and German translations of La Damnation de Faust.
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