Outil de traduction (Très approximatif)
Translator tool (Very approximate)
Reviewer:
David Vickers
A brand new
recording tries to reinvent the wheel. Sébastien d’Hérin’s loquacious essay
praises that Purcell’s music is ‘composed with discernment and care, great
emphasis being placed on detail’, and that personalities ‘emerge by way of light
brushstrokes’. However, sporadic applications of anachronistic cornett, serpent,
regal, viol, harp and copious ad libitum percussion are less like light
brushstrokes than broadly lathered caprices. D’Hérin claims that his ‘personal
orchestration’ avoids being ‘a prisoner of that tradition which often ends up
narrowing our choices’. The inference is that Purcell needs additional
artificial flavourings – and yet it transpires that they seldom improve the
recipe. Les Nouveaux Caractères’ playing tends to be bold and sometimes even
astringent, although a lovely performance of the Rondeau is realised with
sensual inégales. Sharp staccato in the scene for the Drunken Poet has sizzling
energy, although briskness leaves no room for Kevin Greenlaw to convey humour.
Fruity organ registration and rippling harp are disturbances during an uneven
Masque of Night: Caroline Mutel’s strident ‘See, even Night herself is here’ is
hindered by the strings’ forgoing discretion, whereas Anders Dahlin’s languid
high tenor is matched aptly by seductive recorders and lush continuo in ‘One
charming night’ – but aggressive bowing and an intrusive regal mutate the Dance
for the Followers of Night into a grotesque nightmare.
The symphony in
which swans come forward is so exaggerated and percussion-laden that the bevy
must be monstrous and clumsy. The Masque for the Four Seasons comes off best;
the clipped character of the bookend choruses is inelegant, but Guillaume
Andrieux’s declamatory Phoebus and each of the four seasonal soloists are
spot-on – particularly Frédéric Caton’s sinewy Winter. D’Hérin’s choices of
obbligato cornett and chordal viola da gamba during the Plaint are unhelpful
distractions, and unbridled vocal embellishment in ‘Hark! The echoing air’ is
tasteless. On the other hand, Samuel Boden’s relaxed fluency in ‘Thus the gloomy
world’ is Purcellian singing of supreme finesse. Conceived by d’Hérin as an
experimental alternative, the outcome is a curate’s egg.
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