United Kingdom Charpentier at Christmas: Les Arts Florissants / William Christie (conductor) with Emmanuelle de Negri, Julie Roset (sopranos), Nicholas Scott (high tenor), Bastien Rimondi (tenor), Lisandro Abadie (bass-baritone). Barbican Hall, London, 19.12.2022. (CC)
Charpentier – Antiennes ‘O’ de l’Avent, H 36-43 (c. 1693) with Noëls pour les instruments, H 531 and 534 (1690s); Sur la Naissance de Notre Seigneur Jésus-Christ, H 482 (1684/5); In Nativitatem Domini Canticum, H 416 (1690)
A nice change from the glut of Messiahs, this: music by Marc-Antoine Charpentier (1643-1704). William Christie’s Les Arts Florissants is one of the most respected of early music ensembles; an admiration that is clearly well-deserved. Within the space of less than two hours, Christie drew us into this wonderful ‘alternative’ Christmas celebration
The first half was taken up with the Antiennes ‘O’ de l’Avent, interspersed with instrumental Noëls (written in the 1690s), instrumental versions of French Christmas carols. The seven antiphons each begin with the vowel ‘O’ which is explored in miraculous ways by the composer. From the beauty of the opening of the third (‘O Radix Jesse’ / ‘O root of the tree of Jesse’) to the dance rhythms or in the two-violin sense of joy in ‘O Rex gentium’, Christie honoured each and every contrast. While each antiphon was intended for a different day of the week leading up to Christmas, they make a satisfying whole when performed as one. The standard of singing was remarkable, as was the control the instrumentalists had of their instruments in the buoyant Noëls.
The sound of Les Arts Florissants is markedly rich (contrast for example with the leaner Les Talents Lyriques), which gives a rich baseline tonal palette that suited this music to perfection. The singing was beyond criticism, tuning perfect. A rather nice moment of spontaneity before the concert began too: an audience member shouted out ‘Happy Birthday’ (Christie was born December 19, 1944).
The Pastorale, Sur la Naissance de Notre Seigneur Jésus-Christ was premiered on Christmas Day, 1684 and offered a shift from Latin to French as the sung language. Soprano Julie Roset and tenor Nicholas Scott excelled as ‘Silvie’ and ‘Tircis’. Some readers might be aware of Christie’s recording of this alongside In Nativitatem on Harmonia Mundi; it makes an unforgettable complement to this most beautiful of Christmas concerts. Sur la Naissance de Notre Seigneur Jésus-Christ concentrates on the tender, beautiful aspects of Divine birth, eschewing any sense of the grandeur (in some hands, bombast) of Handel’s masterpiece. Charpentier’s skill is everywhere apparent: how the entrance of recorders at the appearance of the angel from heaven made its emotional point. Lovely to see William Christie playing tambourine from the sidelines, too! Perhaps it was the infectious rhythmic spring of the chorus ‘Le Messie est donc né!’ (‘So the Messiah is born!’) that was most delightful here, but there is no doubting the sheer mastery of Charpentier’s writing, nor of the performers’ complete grasp of his idiom. Nice to see Emmanuelle de Negri among the line-up, in fine voice, while bass-baritone Lisandro Abodie provided secure grounding to the soloists. The sense of collective attention to detail and to Christie’s wishes was palpable, and it was Charpentier’s magnificent scores that benefitted throughout the evening.
Finally, In Nativitatem Domini Canticum, and a return to Latin. An evangelist narrates the Christmas story, with groups of singers as the angels and the shepherds. The opening is simply beautiful, presented here by Les Arts Florissants as ineffably tender but with a deeply grounded bass. The pianissimo chorus ‘Memorare testamenti tui’ (‘Remember the promise you made’) was utterly remarkable, a held-breath moment, as was the instrumental nocturnal preceding the ‘Shepherds’ Awakening’ (how much more robust the later instrumental ‘The Shepherds’ Journey’). The Angel is sung by a tenor (Scott) with the utmost lightness (‘Nolite timere pastores’ / ‘Fear not shepherds’) to an infectious dance rhythm. The final chorus, ‘Exultemus, jubilemus’ (‘Let us exult, let us rejoice’), led by bass solos, was a thing of purest joy.
Just one encore, and a cleverly chosen one: we had listened to La Naissance, H 482; we were offered a movement from La Naissance, but H 483 (and to make things even more confusing, there are three versions of H 483; Sébastien Daucé and his Ensemble Correspondances recorded them all for Harmonia Mundi.
A beautiful, truly touching concert. Just one little niggle: the translation in the programme booklet (by Louise Riley-Scott) was not the same as that displayed on the surtitles (by Kenneth Chalmers). In one sense it was quite interesting to compare and contrast, to see which was more accurate; in another, it was distracting from the performance itself…
Nevertheless, this was a heart-warming concert with performances of the very first rank.
Colin Clarke