Zoroastre
Concert performance of the opera by Jean-Philippe Rameau sung in French. 1756 revival version. Libretto: Louis de Cahusac

Performers Mark Padmore, tenor (Zoroastre); Gaëlle Méchaly, soprano (Armélite); Anna-Maria Panzarella, soprano (Erinice); Stéphanie Révidat, soprano (Céphine); Nathan Berg, bass (Abramane); Matthieu Lécroart, bass (Zopire/La Vengeance); François Bazola, bass (Narbanor); Eric Martin-Bonnet, bass (Oromasès/Arimane); Les Arts Florissants, William Christie (conductor)
Venue Usher Hall
Address Lothian Road Edinburgh
Reviewer Pat Napier

Today, Rameau's late opera, Zoroastre, is so rare an offering that this Festival performance was only its second, near-complete one, in the UK; it was also presented in its 1756 revived form. Performed by the incomparable Early Music group Les Arts Florissants, this concert performance turned out to be a jewel very much worthy of bringing out for a new examination of its vocal, choral and instrumental facets which, last night, shone with a rare brilliance. The timbre of the instruments, such as the luscious wooden flutes, oboes and bassoons, set against the warm, intimate strings and the whole ensemble, playing at Baroque pitch, gave the opera a feeling of intimacy, pulling the audience into the action. And the purity of the voices, both solo and chorus, made this a memorable performance.

Mark Padmore

At a time when Europe's transition from the Renaissance to the Age of Reason was almost complete, when the religious balance had tipped dramatically and Medieval magic had largely gone underground - having yielded pride of place to science - Zoroastre was a very lyrical enactment of the fundamental struggles: good and evil, light and darkness, new ideas and old, enlightenment and ingnorance, fidelity and temptation. These eternal enemies were epitomised by Zoroastre and Abramane and the action was played out against a very French pastoralism of ancient gods and sorcerers. No expense had been spared by the City of Paris for either its first or its second staging. The Paris theatre gained a new, large apron stage to accomodate the large instrumental and choral forces, as well as the obligatory ballet which had always been included in French opera from its earliest days.

This Festival concert performance allowed the imagination to run free to build its own images invoked by Rameau's highly evocative sound pictures. Though the music is entitled Zoroastre. Tragedie, its story follows the formula of victory of good over bad, of defeat in stirring battle of the forces of darkness, a happy ending with the hero and his heroine triumphing over the trials set by the gods, then going off into the glowing sunset.

However, even this performance only allowed glimpses of what a concert performance could be: staged opera, minus sets and elaborate costumes. Stage management in the form of unobtrusive entrances and exits across the Usher Hall stage were perfection itself. What is entirely possible is to dispense with the music stands and perform the opera without to props.

In the Usher Hall's Zoroastre the baddies stole the show. The terrible trio of three basses really immersed themselves in the action: in facial and body language, intense vocal colour and in acting terms, they operated as a realistic whole, larger than life. Take away their music stands and you'd see what I mean.

Gaëlle Méchaly

When joined by Erinice, the evil element adopted its customary fatal fascination. Anna-Maria Panzarella's Italian heritage bestowed a passion and vocal colour, making us realise that the pure, undiluted bell-like sounds of the Early Music soprano voice can be enhanced without losing the authentic sound. For this reviewer, Zoroastre and Amélite Gaëlle Méchaly portrayed the sinuous beauty of goodness and light, in looks and voice, but both seemed not to project these voices with sufficient robustness and therefore conviction to put their stamp on the opera. Vocally, though, Amélite in particular had a beautiful, clear bell-like tone in the high register. All of the soloists were supported by an outstanding Chorus, dividing sometimes into male and female, then coming together as a full chorus.

I could say so much about the orchestral and vocal devices which Rameau used to score the music and to create lyrical and emotional atmosphere but I won't. Suffice it to say that the whole production was carefully worked out, beautifully balanced and wore its scholasticism so lightly as to seem inconspicuous. But it was there. You could feel it in the wonderful touches such as the single viol accentuating key points, the bassoons and the double basses dividing to sound dark, threatening and brooding, the occasional outbursts of horns and percussion for rolls of thunder. Enough! Like all good fairy stories, Zoroastre ended in the glorious sunshine of radiant strings and the voices of those whose goodness triumphs once more over evil.

© Pat Napier. 25 August 200