The 9th November 2012 saw the modern premiere of Rameau’s Anacréon (1754), as reconstructed by Jonathan Williams. This concert performance of a forgotten opera was a coming together of academia and musicianship, and an enterprise on a large scale. This collaboration between the Music Faculty of Oxford and the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment represents what many people would perhaps like to see more often, namely academic pursuits serving the performance community.
Rameau wrote two complete Anacréons, both of them a one-act acte de ballet, but with two different plots and librettos. Anacréon (1754), performed tonight, was set to a libretto by Louis de Cahusac and first performed for the French court at Fontainebleau on 23 October 1754. It had a successful premiere followed by some performances in Paris after the composer’s death, and then fell into oblivion for almost 250 years. From fragmented manuscripts scattered through Paris’s libraries, Dr Jonathan Williams reconstructed the work, had his edition published by Bärenreiter, and now conducted the first modern performance of it.
With only three characters and a chorus, it takes as its subject matter a light-hearted love intrigue concerning the elderly Greek poet Anacréon, his young protégée Chloë, and Bathylle (also a protégé of Anacréon’s, and in love with Chloë). The old man ensures that his two young protégés are married in the end, but before that, Chloë manages to misunderstand him when he speaks about his plans for a marriage, thinking that she is to be wed to Anacréon. She dares not to ask him or question these plans. As she encounters Bathylle in the garden, she is moved to confess her love for him and tells him what Anacréon has in mind. For the first time, Bathylle also speaks out about his love for her, and the two lament their fate together. But as the marriage day approaches, Anacréon reveals that of course, he has been planning for his two young friends to be married, and all rejoice. Though the plot seems light-hearted and simple, it does bring up some issues that must have been relevant to its original time and place of performance. For example, the relationship between Anacréon and his young subjects has all the ingredients of hierarchy, power, submission, respect, trust, reverence and responsibility that made up the relation that the King of France was supposed to have with his courtiers. The ending is by necessity happy, since Chloë and Bathylle showed trust and respect to their senior – who naturally had the best in mind for both of them.
The whole process of reconstructing, rehearsing, performing a forgotten work, as well as organising some preceding talks and lectures centred on Rameau and Anacréon is thoroughly praiseworthy, and it was clear on the night of the performance that this initiative was much appreciated by the audience. French Baroque music and Rameau is rarely performed in Britain as it is, and it is truly exciting with enterprises like this one crossing the imaginary boundaries between scholarship and performance. Unfortunately, it was quite clear that French Baroque music is an intricate field that needs its specialists in terms of performance practice. Why not bring in some French Baroque specialist to work with the orchestra and singers? It would also be fantastic to see this opera performed not in concert version, but staged – so much of the comedy and understanding of the first performance of something like this goes amiss. However, the quality of the orchestra’s playing cannot be debated, and the soloists delivered a great performance; especially Anna Dennis’s Chloë stood out.
One may also wonder why Vivaldi’s Gloria was chosen to pair Anacréon; why not make it another French piece, orchestral or choral? There is something about choosing the Gloria that does not go hand in hand with the idea of the Anacréon project – rediscovering and resurrecting old works, mixing scholarship and performance. Perhaps it is necessary to believe fully in enterprises like this: why not make the performance an entirely French night, or even go on to perform some other little-known gem? French Baroque music in general could certainly do with a bit more attention in Great Britain. And, it seems quite certain that the audience coming to the Sheldonian Theatre that night would have turned up regardless of whether they had been served Lully or Vivaldi, because their eyes were set on the revived Rameau opera. It would have been interesting to hear Anacréon in the context of other French works.
Then, there is the eternal problem of reviving old works: sometimes, there is a reason why they were forgotten in the first place, and sometimes, there isn’t. Anacréon is certainly an entertaining and light-hearted work with some splendid Rameau-choruses towards the end, but it is understandable that it fell into oblivion as taste changed – it seems very much a work of its circumstances, perfect for an intimate, small-scale summer performance. But that is far from a problem – it is a beautiful work, and there is no point in comparing it to Rameau’s other masterworks. Instead, Anacréon requires a tuning-in to its small-scale charm to be properly appreciated, and one has to accept and enjoy it for what it is.
Agustin Prunell-Friend (tenor), Matthew Brook (bass-baritone), Anna Dennis (soprano)
The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment,
The Choir of Magdalene College,
Consort Iridiana
conducted by Jonathan Williams
and
Esther Brazil and Robyn Allegra Parton
conducted by Daniel Hyde