F. REBEL/FRANCŒUR Pirame et Thisbè • Daniel Cuiller, cond; Thomas Dolié (Pirame); Judith van Wanroij (Thisbé); Jeffrey Thompson (Ninus); Katia Velletaz (Zoraïde); Jean Teitgen (Zoroastre); Stradivaria • MIRARE 58 (2 CDs: 140:30 Text and Translation) Live: Nantes 5/25/2007

Please take note: this is not an opera by Jean-Féry Rebel, whose Ulysse (Musiques à la Chabaotterie 605003) was recently recorded for the first time. Instead, it’s a tragédie en musique by his son, François Rebel (1701–1775), and by fellow composer François Francœur (1698–1787), a member of yet-another French musical dynasty. They collaborated professionally in 18 stage works spread over roughly 45 years. Pirame et Thisbè of 1726 was the first of these, dubbed l’opéra des enfants at the time because of the youth of the pair. They clearly saw it coming, along with the implied charge of audacity, because their preface to the opera refers to “our illustrious predecessors” and concludes defensively with the following: “Monsieur de Lully has been our master and our model; you are our judges.”

We can’t quite judge the results from this recording, however. The original production at the Académie Royale de Musique was successful, resulting in a revival the following year. (It was in fact so successful that some commentators of the period, such as Antoine de Léris, considered Rebel’s uncle, Michel Delalande, to be the true composer of everything save the work’s instrumental pieces.) A second version making its debut in 1740 increased the number of airs and recitatives, while a third version was issued in 1771. It’s this last and most extensive Pirame et Thisbè, published after Rebel’s death by Francœur, that Cuiller and his forces performed at the Angers Nantes Opéra, and subsequently recorded.

Whatever the composers claimed, their work is a musical jeu d’esprit. It goes overboard in several, enthusiastic ways. It takes pains to flaunt its learning: the dry flute melody that provides effective counterpoint to the prologue’s opening homophonic chorus, for example; or the bland vocal melody, “Vois nos hommages, tendre Amour,” set against pedant counterpoint at the start of act II, scene 4; or the unusually busy two-part choral counterpoint employed above a forceful orchestral line for the final scene of act I. It can also be unusually bold, as in the colorful passacaglia that concludes act III, the stern introduction to act IV, or Zoraïde’s dramatic “Son pouvoir obscurcit les airs” from act II, scene 5—though this last almost certainly comes from one of the opera’s revisions, as it inhabits the sound world of Rameau. The same can be said for the overture that comes too close for comfort to that of Rameau’s Dardanus (1739) at times. The recitatives are mostly formula work; this is not Lully and Quinault’s theater of characters in intellectual opposition. But the zestful theatricality and ingenuity of the best pages in the score point to the positive influence of the Ramistes.

The performances are a mixed bag. I have only praise for Judith van Wanroij and Katia Velletaz. Both have attractively warm voices, capable of point and delicacy. Each shows a convincing grasp of the dramatic situation, fine phrasing, and excellent enunciation. The men are more problematic. Jeffrey Thompson has a bright gleam to his tenor and good emission, but can’t handle the simple coloratura he gets. He also over-emotes, tightening his voice into a quiver and losing proper intonation when he does so. He breaks the line often to sob—and is the first Baroque vocalist I’ve ever heard do this. Thomas Dolié’s high baritone is best in its upper range, where it sounds freely. Lower notes are poorly supported, though he always demonstrates a convincing sense of style. Jean Teitgen’s bass lacks resonance, but more than makes up for it with range, coloratura, and refinement. Cuiller manages his forces well, and Stradivaria performs with an enthusiasm that does not preclude elegance.

The production was recorded live on stage, May 25, 2007. I don’t detect any audience sounds, but there are plenty of audible shuffling feet during entrances and exits. The singers are well placed for microphone projection, but the orchestra sounds slightly distant. Relatively short, uninformative liner notes are supplied, along with a full libretto and translations in German and English.

So the French Baroque opera bandwagon rolls on. Pirame et Thisbè is not the most refined, touching, brilliant, or dramatic work that has yet been uncovered, but it has something to offer the listener in all of these respects. Definitely recommended.

FANFARE: Barry Brenesal