Marc-Antoine Charpentier didn’t write many operas, particularly when set against the many hundreds of his sacred works, because for most of his lifetime, he was barred from the genre by the monopoly granted to Lully. In 1688, however, he managed to sneak in David et Jonathas, denoting it as a “biblical tragedy” and having it staged at the Jesuit Collège Louis le Grand in Paris. Seeing Marshall Pynkoski’s new production at the Chapelle Royale at the Château de Versailles – very much more Charpentier’s stamping ground than the adjacent Opéra Royal – makes one wish the Louis XIV had relaxed Lully’s monopoly a lot sooner than he eventually did.
The orchestra and chorus were the Chœur et Ensemble Marguerite Louise, conducted by their youthful founder Gaétan Jarry, an organist who has spent a lot of his career around Versailles. They were a force of nature. I lost count of the number of wow moments of propulsive playing and could only marvel at the energy they generated, unflagging over more than two hours of music. The timbre of every period instrument was a delight, most notably the joyous explosions from the trumpets and sonorous underpinning of the three viole da gamba. As a conductor, Jarry is both sweeping and precise in his movements and his rapport with the players and singers – the chorus split between the stage and orchestral level – was obvious. Charpentier gives the chorus some glorious contrapuntal music and they took every advantage, producing moments of intensity that were just as thrilling as their instrumental colleagues.
It’s not that often that I hear a tenor who simply blows me into the back of my seat, and even less so in Baroque music. Reinoud van Mechelen did exactly that, from his very first notes. He has a huge voice, but the power levels are achieved with immense sweetness through the range, while he is able to exquisitely shape a phrase or develop a single note. His depiction of David was utterly enthralling.
David et Jonathas falls outside the operatic norms in various ways. David is an all-conquering hero, but his only wish is to avoid violence so that he can be with his beloved Jonathan. The love triangle is similarly unusual, since the baritone seeking to disrupt the relationship of our heroes is not another lover but Jonathan’s father King Saul – who has been befuddled by the predictions of the Pythoness (the Witch of Endor in the Bible) and persuaded that David is a traitor by the scheming Philistine general Joabel. The Prologue and Acts 1 and 2 set up the drama in a somewhat leisurely manner; after the interval, Acts 3-5 pick up the pace and the second half flashes by.
Soprano Caroline Arnaud had a tentative start as Jonathan, but seemed to lose all the uncertainty after the interval. In the scenes of her parting with David and then, when she dies in his arms, she was heart-melting. Unfortunately, David Witczak had lost his voice and could only act Saul on stage, with Arnaud Richard stepping in at short notice to sing the role from the sidelines. François-Olivier Jean was an impressive Pythoness, but the other soloists all had spells when they were difficult to hear above the orchestra in the very resonant space of the Chappelle Royale.
Visually, the production is very striking indeed. Pynkoski declares his intent as being “to channel the solemnity and ritual” of Charpentier’s work and of the space. He achieves that and more, producing a series of tableaux that very much place us back in the Sun King’s era. The costumes, by Christian Lacroix, are just outrageous: those of the royals (and the Pythoness) are sumptuous, opulent, resplendent in their detail. The women in the chorus could be straight out of a painting by Poussin or Le Brun. Choreographer Jeanette Lajeunesse Zingg researched dances of the period to give us the feel of the kind of entertainment that Charpentier would have been expecting; her choreographies are danced with verve and elegance.
Versailles is the epicentre of French Baroque music and this production breathes authenticity in a manner that you simply won’t find elsewhere. I can quibble with some of the singing and with the slow start to the dramatic action, but this was a rare opportunity to hear Charpentier’s glorious music in the best possible setting and see his work staged with immense flair.
