Singer & Circumstance

Up until this year, there was no way anyone could have made me listen to Opera or Musical theatre; it’s the one genre of music I’m genuinely funny on. Now, however, I would amend my stance: I will listen to opera depending on the singer and the circumstance. There are some notable exceptions to my rule-of-loathing: for instance the last act of Shostakovich’s Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District (it gives me goosebumps), and to my surprise French Baroque Opera.

Listen until the choir comes in.

Possibly to the surprise of many, Opera in France got off to a fairly rocky start. As it was invented in Italy, the French monarchy were fairly against it, as at the time Louis XIV sought to centralise the arts in France, to better serve the state and paint the monarchy in a good light – basically using music as a form of state propaganda. As an overtly foreign art form, Italian opera would stand little chance, and to make matters worse opera was of course in Italian: no one in France, except maybe the aristocracy, would be able to understand it! Although there was a healthy tradition of musical theatre and musical dance in France, the recitative style, on which Italian opera hinged, was thought impossible to use in French, for reasons of grammar discussed in the previous post.

Nonetheless, there were efforts to convert the King to the ways of opera. Cardinal Mazarin, Chief Minister for Louis XIV during his regency and himself a fan of opera, attempted to convert the King by hiring the renowned Italian Opera composer Francesco Cavalli to write an opera for the marriage of Louis XIV to Maria Theresa of Spain, Hercules in Love (guess who Hercules was meant to be). This did not succeed, however, as the opera and theatre were not finished in time. When the opera was at last finished two years later, it was never to be performed as by that time Cardinal Mazarin had died, and there was no one of sufficient stature to support the premiere of Italian opera.

These delays and negations were also partly due to none other than Jean-Baptiste Lully, one of the foremost court composers, whose machinations and scheming behind the scenes ensured his Italian rival’s failure, ensuring his own position. Lully famously declared that recitative in French was impossible. 10 years later he wrote the first French opera, which     included recitative.

The Académie d’Opéra was founded in 1669 by Pierre Perrin, who received a 12 year licence from the King to compose opera. When Perrin was thrown into debtors’ prison, Lully stepped in and managed to gain the sole rights to compose opera; any stage production that used more than six musicians was classified as an opera, and would be fined accordingly.

Lully then managed to piece together a system for French recitative, using the heightened-speech declamatory style of the actors and actresses of the French theatre as a foundation. Working with librettist (script writer) Phillipe Quilnaut, Lully premiered his first opera, Cadmus et Ermiune, in 1673. For the next 14 years, he averaged one opera a year, which would be first premiered at Versailles, then in Paris.

French opera was categorized by a number of things. The styles used were usually very diverse, including duets and dances as well as the recitative and aria, and the sections were usualy much shorter and more modular, making French opera more versatile. The French did not use Castrati, boys who had been castrated to keep their higher voices into adulthood, as the felt they were unnatural, and instead used both male and female singers. The supporting orchestra got larger and larger, able to sustain and make massive sounds and effects like storms. Generally, a lot more dance was incorporated into French opera, and the success of the genre lies in the singers’ musical expression rather than overt virtuosity. I think this is possibly why I prefer French Opera; I find the inherent musicality much more appealing than over-the-top drama – though that is not saying that French Opera does not have drama!  Although I admit I have a very limited knowledge of vocal music, I have never heard the use of silence in Baroque music like in the transitional passage in Act II, Scence 5 of Armide. The utter breathlessness, and other musical effects the singer uses are just stunning.