Les Indes Galantes 2022 Reviews

★★★★ 
THE STAGE
Yehuda Shapiro
'Moments of magic'

An inventive, resourceful and stylish realisation of a French baroque masterpiece.

​In recent years Rameau’s Les Indes Galantes has received high-profile stagings at the Bavarian State Opera and at the Bastille in Paris, the city that first saw this opera-ballet in 1735. At a time when concurrent new productions of Handel and Vivaldi are running at the Royal Opera House, France’s greatest baroque composer seems to remain off the company’s radar. English Touring Opera took his Dardanus around the country in 2017, but Ensemble OrQuesta’s economical, imaginative in-the-round show constitutes a surprisingly rare opportunity to witness Rameau in action.

Visiting “the amorous Indies”, the work is structured as a kind of operatic revue. A prologue referencing the Classical gods is followed by three episodes: in the first, foreshadowing Mozart’s Abduction from the Seraglio, the fates of Ottoman and French characters interlock; the second, and most overtly dramatic, is driven by the love of a Spanish conquistador for an Inca princess; the third is a gentle farce set in Persia. Not performed at the Cockpit is a fourth episode added after the premiere; set in North America, it contains the score’s ‘greatest hit’, the irresistibly rhythmic Forets Paisibles, offered by Ensemble OrQuesta as an instrumental interlude.

In charge of both staging and music is Marcio da Silva, a Brazilian based in the UK. Sensitive to the dangers inherent in Enlightenment musings on new worlds, he adopts a stylised approach, not bound to any particular time or place, which respects the elevated discourse of the libretto while homing in on universal emotions. A particular moment of magic comes in Tendre Amour, the exquisite, sinuous quartet that forms the climax of the Persian episode.

When assuming solo roles, the nine singers keep gestures to an absolute minimum. When acting as a sonorous ensemble, they also become dancers and even ‘human scenery’. Visual poetry is created as they configure themselves to form a boat, agitate metallic gauzes to evoke stormy waves or, using their multicoloured gloved hands, produce a composite image of a flitting butterfly.

Each of them brings a distinct vocal personality, a strong sense of style and eloquent French diction. There are four sopranos: Angela Hicks, notably elegant; Helen May, powerful and intense; Poppy Shotts, instantly engaging and Anna-Luise Wagner, exuding warmth. The sweetness of Kieran White’s tenor contrasts with the urgency of Samuel Jenkins’, but both spin a stylish line. Baritonal strength comes from Jack Lawrence-Jones – a model of nobility – and the expansively forthright John Holland-Avery, while bass-baritone Flavio Lauria (at one point sporting a platinum blond wig as Bellone, the goddess of war) bursts with energy.

In a corner of the playing space the multitasking da Silva conducts a seven-strong instrumental ensemble, intermittently taking up a guitar or percussion instrument to heighten the colours of the tonal landscape.

Early Music Reviews
Andrew Benson-Wilson
07/02/22

This was French Baroque opera, but not as Rameau might have known it. Les Indes Galantes was first performed in 1735 in the form of a heroïque opéra-ballet, with elaborate dance movements dominating the vocal music. It would have involved a large orchestra, a substantial troupe of dancers, up to 21 solo singers, and spectacular staging and special effects that included, amongst other things, a storm at sea and a volcanic eruption. This delightful version, performed by Ensemble OrQuesta in the square black-box Cockpit Theatre had an ‘orchestra’ of just eight, including the director, Marcio da Silva and nine singers. The only real props were some long sticks, used in dance sequences and to delineate stage areas.

Les Indes Galantes had a rather complicated composition and performance history. It was first performed with just three parts, the Prologue and two Entrées, both depicting love triangles – Le Turc généreux, a Turkish pasha with his captive slave on the Indian Ocean, and Les Incas du Pérou, set during the Festival of the Sun in Peru. The lukewarm reception to the premier led to the addition of a new entrée from the third performance: Les Fleurs-fête Persane, a complicated love quadruple. This raised eyebrows with its two cross-dressing characters, considered at the time as either absurd or indecent. But it also brings a welcome comedy element to the machinations of the first two Entrées. For this performance, Ensemble OrQuesta use this early formulation of a prologue and three Entrées.

The Prologue centres on Hébé (Angela Hicks), the goddess of youth, who calls her followers to a festival to celebrate love. Young lovers from different countries rush to celebrate until the celebration is interrupted by Bellone, goddess of war (the moustachioed baritone Flavio Lauria in a long blond wig in the opposite of a trouser role), who calls on the loving pairs to seek out military glory. Hébé entices L’Amour (Poppy Shotts) to use his power to hold them back as Hébé urges the youths to go abroad to exotic, faraway lands in search of love. Angela Hicks had the bulk of the singing in the Prologue, setting a very high standard in vocal quality and period performance style for her fellow singers to follow. Her credentials as a specialist early music singer were clear. She was one of the few singers to display excellent period-appropriate articulation and beautifully agile French Baroque ornamentation.

The Generous Turk is the Pasha Osman (Jack Lawrence-Jones) who has fallen for Emilie (Helen May), who has been captured by pirates and sold into slavery. She rejects him and remains true to her lost lover, Valère (Kieran White), who has been shipwrecked and soon becomes another prisoner of Osman. Realising that it was Valère who once set Osman free he gives them freedom and a ship for them to return home, albeit through a storm. Helen May and Kieran White both impressed vocally, the latter utilising the distinctive French haute-contre voice. I also liked the clever depiction of a boat on the sea by six members of the cast.

The instrumental dance movements included several well-known orchestral performances of Suites from the opera, notably the Marche and Tambourins from the first Entrée. However, there was only one that was fully danced by the cast, at the opening of the Second Entrée, The Incas of Peru, with some very clever and well-coordinated foot-tapping and gestures. Angela Hicks made a welcome return as the Inca Princess, Phani, who is in love with Spaniard Don Carlos (Samuel Jenkins), but is afraid that her conquered people will not appreciate their love, notably, the Inca High Priest Huascar (Jack Lawrence-Jones) who is also in love with Phani. As the Incas gather to celebrate the Festival of the Sun, Huascar pursues Phani in some of the most inappropriate chat-up lines I have ever heard. He invokes the sun god to cause the nearby volcano to erupt, but as Don Carlos arrives to rescue Phani, Huascar is overcome by the volcano.

The final Entrée is set within the Persian Festival of the Flowers. Tacmas (Kieran White) is engaged to Fatima (the impressive Anna-Luise Wagner) but is really in love with Ali’s slavegirl Zaïre (Poppy Shotts) while Ali (John Holland-Avery) is in love with Fatima. In something of a comedy turn, both Tacmas and Fatima appear in cross-gender disguise to spy on their beloved. The couples eventually sort themselves out and sing the musical highlight of the opera, a beautiful love quartet before the Festival of the Flowers concludes with song and dance.

This was an extremely effective pared-down production of a complex opera. Marcio da Silva and Laura Hensley’s stage direction was imaginative, with clever use of the minimal props and the singers’ hands.

The reduced instrumental forces were able to play most of the notes (the orchestral score is in no more than four parts), although those who know the full opera would have missed the distinctive sound of the little-bagpipe musettes. Much of the instrumental colour came from Joel Raymond playing oboe and recorders, while Kirsty Main was the principal violinist. The all-important continuo line depended for the most part on Erlend Vestby, cello, and Cédric Meyera, archlute, both very impressive.

To comment that some of the singing was rather operatic may seem odd, but there is opera singing and opera singing. Amongst many aspects of singing performance that separates the former from the latter is the use of vibrato – or, more accurately, the ability to avoid using vibrato. In operas from the mid to late 19th century, the increased size of venues and orchestras meant that singers had to force their voices, resulting in almost continuous vibrato. But in early music, including pre-19th-century operas, vibrato was considered as an occasional ornament, to be applied judiciously to colour an extended note. All the singers had vibrato to varying degrees, but few managed to control it in a way appropriate to Baroque performance. That said, the singing from the young cast was impressive.

★★★★ 
PLAYS TO SEE
Owen Davies
17/02/2022

Marcio da Silva’s groundbreaking company Ensemble Orquesta (EO) is fast developing an enviable reputation for bringing rare baroque treasures to the opera stage. For this fascinating production he has produced a version of Rameau’s 1735 ‘entertainment’, Les Indes Galantes (‘The Love Islands’ perhaps?). French operas at this point were a rich mixture of myth, singing, dancing, and scenic effects. All the more remarkable then that EO is able to bring vibrant life – with nine singers, seven players, no dancers, and precious little scenery – to this intriguing piece. As ever, the singing and playing are of the highest standard and if some of the stories (the opera is in four parts – a prologue and three “entrees”) don’t quite catch fire, I am inclined to lay the blame on Rameau, who revised the opera repeatedly looking for the right blend.

In the prologue, Hébé, goddess of youth, and Bellone, goddess of war, are in conflict and so Hébé summons Cupid to try to persuade her young followers to abandon dreams of military glory. Cupid gives up on war-like Europe and leads those willing to follow to “the Indies”. The three “entrees” that ensue are musical vignettes that look at love from different viewpoints. The first act – The Generous Turk – tells the story of two lovers who are united because of the kindness of Osman Pasha. This story may be familiar because it was adapted by Mozart later in the eighteenth century. The second act – The Incas of Peru – tells of a love triangle that ends in the union of Phani and Carlos and the death of the jealous Inca priest Huascar. The third act – The Persian Festival – is a comedy about two sets of lovers who are eventually united after mistakes and misunderstandings.

The Cockpit provides a performing area surrounded on three sides by banks of seating – the band is placed at one side of the “empty wall”. The performers all wear black except when they have a specific singing role. For this, they take items of colourful clothing from a rail that is wheeled in at the beginning of each act. All the performers are constantly on stage and those not singing are nevertheless fully involved as dancers or chorus – the repeated “human boat” between acts is both apt and amusing. The scenery, while minimal, is cleverly created by wooden poles, flower petals, and pieces of cloth – once again the shoestring creativity of the EO team is amply demonstrated.

All the singers are on top of the demands of Rameau’s music. I single out four of them with no intention to downplay the ensemble excellence that is achieved. Helen May as Emilie in The Generous Turk is once again superb, with the flexibility of tone and dramatic power that holds an audience rapt – and she is fortunate to have Kieran White as her Valère. His lovely high tenor sounds magical in the shipwreck scene and, in the two gloriously lyrical pieces that end this act, the duet and chorus Volez Zephirs Volez were outstanding. Angela Hicks as Hébé in the prologue and as Phani in act 2 was able to fill the Cockpit with a voice of power and precision that suited both goddess and Inca princess ideally. Act 3 is a comic piece and, though the story was never funny enough to convince, the splendid Poppy Shotts (who was also Cupid in the prologue) was in fine voice. Despite its dramatic shortcomings, it ended with a glorious quartet which left one wishing Rameau had included more ensemble pieces in the opera.

Marcio da Silva conducted (and played a number of instruments) and, as ever, brought the best out of his instrumentalists, and his singers. The deftly handled combination of harpsichord and arch-lute gave the recitative the rich undertones that baroque songs so need. I am not sure that on this showing French baroque opera really rivals the best Italian baroque, but we should be applauding the fact that EO is able to bring these rare gems to life on the opera stage.