Briefly Noted: Sandrine Piau Enchants (CD of the Month)

Handel, Opera Arias and Concerti Grossi, S. Piau, Les Paladins, J. Correas (released on January 7, 2022) Alpha 765 | 72'08"

This new release from Alpha had me at Sandrine Piau, whose recordings and live performances we have followed for twenty years (last reviewed in Washington in 2016). Add to that the programming, which allows Piau to incarnate some of Handel's notorious seductresses, sirens, sorceresses, and wronged women: Alcina, Lucrezia, Cleopatra, Melissa, Almirena, Adelaide. One final point to recommend it even before listening: this is the fourth collaboration of Piau with Jérôme Correas and his ensemble Les Paladins. Correas, a bass-baritone known from several blockbuster operas recorded by William Christie and Les Arts Florissants, founded this group in 2001. In these tracks recorded at the Théâtre de Poissy, "on the eve of a lockdown" in October 2020, is the sense of urgency that Correas describes, as the musicians "raced against the clock to bring this recording to life." Piau adds that the location was also the site of her first recital recording, an auspicious return.

The musical relationship is one of comfort and trust, judging by the ease in Piau's voice, as Correas and his musicians move as one with her every whim, from soaring antics down to breathy depths in an amazing cadenza and embellished da capo adorning "Da tempesta" from Giulio Cesare. In "Piangerò la sorte mia" from the same opera, taken at a lush crawl, Piau's plangent floating tone is matched by warm strings and active continuo from Benjamin Narvey's theorbo. Correas, taking the harpsichord part himself, accompanies the brilliant, tortured gem "Alla salma infedel" from the cantata La Lucrezia. In the equally unfamiliar "Desterò dall'empia dite" from Amadigi di Gaula, there are amazing acrobatics among Piau, trumpet, and oboe. Instrumental selections, including movements from Handel's concerti grossi and one sparkling overture (from Amadigi di Gaula), round out a phenomenal disc, complete with authoritative program notes by Barbara Nestola, head of research at the Centre de Musique Baroque de Versailles.

La Piau Goes to Washington

Après un rêve, S. Piau, S. Manoff (Naïve, 2011)

Charles T. Downey, French soprano Sandrine Piau makes stunning D.C. debut
Washington Post, February 9

Sandrine Piau made her long overdue Washington debut on Sunday afternoon, and the Phillips Collection, celebrating its 75th anniversary season, got the glory. The French soprano’s excellent program of 19th-century songs, superbly accompanied by pianist Susan Manoff, was the latest sign of the ascendancy of the Phillips concert series, which has become one of the strongest in the city.

Manoff and Piau recorded many of these songs on their 2011 CD, “Après un rêve.” The qualities that set Piau’s voice apart on disc were, if anything, more pronounced live... [Continue reading]

Sandrine Piau (soprano) and Susan Manoff (piano)
Phillips Collection

PREVIOUSLY:
Charles T. Downey, Briefly Noted: Sandrine Piau (Ionarts, November 1, 2011)

Briefly Noted: Desperate Heroines

Desperate Heroines (Mozart), S. Piau, Salzburg Mozarteum Orchestra, I. Bolton (released on January 27, 2015) Naïve V5366 | 47'

Sandrine Piau has been on my wish list for a Washington recital debut for a long time. The French lyric soprano has a gorgeous, bell-like sort of voice, with exquisite diction in French and Italian, and we have admired her on disc many times and live, in a concert performance of Mozart's Il Rè Pastore in Paris. She has a lovely way with Mozart, in particular, and her 2002 disc devoted to the composer remains one of my favorites. Piau's latest recording, Desperate Heroines, feels a little like a slightly disappointing sequel to that earlier one, not in its quality but because it is essentially the same sort of recital and a little less effective. The program is short, for one thing, with some odd choices, starting off with Barberina's aria from Le Nozze di Figaro, a piece that feels more like a fragment than a stand-alone aria.

Piau comes through nevertheless with some beautiful finesse moments, like the little cadenza at the end of Susanna's Deh vieni, with limpid, perfectly placed pp high notes. Slow and delicate music seems better for her voice, as in the tender Se il padre from Idomeneo and the whispered sighs of Geme la tortorella from La finta giardiniera, with its spot-on staccato notes, light as a feather. The more dramatic pieces, like Crudeli, fermate, crudeli from La finta giardiniera, require a forceful edge that does not flatter her as much. In general, the Salzburg Mozarteum Orchestra and conductor Ivor Bolton provide elegant instrumental support, although I have preferred Piau's partnerships with original-instruments groups, like Christophe Rousset's Les Talens Lyriques and the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra.

Briefly Noted: Une fête baroque

Une fête baroque, N. Dessay, A. S. von Otter, S. Degout, P. Petibon, T. Lehtipuu, P. Jaroussky, S. Piau, R. Villazón, Le Concert d'Astrée, E. Haïm (released on March 13, 2012) Virgin 730799 2 | 154'11" [Listen]

This past December, Emmanuelle Haïm celebrated the 10-year anniversary of her historically informed performance ensemble, Le Concert d'Astrée. As a retrospective of the composers who have provided their greatest successes -- Rameau, Lully, Purcell, and especially Handel -- Haïm led a gala concert at the Théâtre des Champs Elysées, with a starry list of the singers who have worked with her over the last decade. Some excerpts from the concert were shown on in a Christmas Day broadcast on French television (see embedded video below), and this 2-CD set is the result of the live recording made in Paris. The thrill of this sort of event, with so many different singers, including many leading voices, performing only one or a few pieces is that all can throw themselves into their performances without worrying so much about safeguarding some vocal strength over the course of an entire operatic role. Perhaps not surprisingly, it is not the big guns that fire loudest: Natalie Dessay's Cleopatra, Philippe Jaroussky's Rinaldo, Anne Sofie von Otter's Phèdre, least of all R. Villazón's Bajazet.

Standout performances come from less expected places, like soprano Jaël Azzaretti in a high-flying avian duet with Alexis Kossenko on traverso in "Rossignols amoureux" or horn players with serious chops in the hunting aria "A la chasse," both from Rameau's Hippolyte et Aricie. Ann Hallenberg adds extensive embellishments throughout "Lascia ch'io pianga" from Handel's Rinaldo, extending the harmony until it almost sounds like Fauré. Patricia Petibon performs a nutty La Folie, from Platée, driven mad by the sound of a portable (a brief spoken introduction, in which a cellphone rings on stage, is at the beginning of the track), adds all sorts of crazy ornaments. Sandrine Piau is plangent of tone in a beautiful rendition of "Piangerò la sorte mia" from Giulio Cesare in Egitto, again with affecting additions to the melodic line on the reprise of the A section. The only drawbacks of the live format are the amount of applause captured in the tracks, a few audience noises, and the fact that Haïm's excessively fast tempo leaves mezzo-soprano Renata Pokupić behind in the dust in Nerone's "Come nube che fugge dal vento" from Handel's Agrippina. One can excuse the obligatory Hallelujah chorus, complete with audience participation, with Christmas having been just around the corner, but not the Pájaros Perdidos-style Latin salsafication of Purcell's Sound the Trumpet.


(Note Haïm's unorthodox conducting style and read the comments on
this post about her being fired from the Opéra de Paris)

Briefly Noted: Sandrine Piau

Après un rêve, S. Piau, S. Manoff (released on May 31, 2011) Naïve V 5250 | 59'

French soprano Sandrine Piau has always been a pleasure for my ears, both live in concert and on disc. Her light but still focused, never airy voice would be expected to be beautifully suited to this recital of mostly French mélodies, with favorites by Poulenc and Fauré, including the former's song that gave its title to this rather gorgeous disc -- pieces that are almost always sung best by French singers (especially Poulenc), and not only for the native pronunciation. Surprises lurk in the programming, too, such as the unexpectedly pleasing Richard Strauss Lieder, songs one would not necessarily associate with a voice like Piau's -- decidedly French-hued Strauss, to be sure, but lovely nonetheless -- and Mendelssohn songs that sound of a piece with the mostly French program. The veiled imagery of Symbolism hangs like a heavy perfume in a set of songs by Ernest Chausson, as well as in the more recent Galgenlieder (Gallows songs), composed by Vincent Bouchot (b. 1966) to surrealist poetry by Christian Morgenstern (the vocabulary of fairy tales -- the Man in the Moon and the Midnight Mouse -- is used to describe adult-oriented puzzles). New York-born pianist Susan Manoff, who has partnered Piau brilliantly before, provides the right backdrops for each song, from transparent pastel to hexed rampage.

Vivaldi Edition: La fida ninfa

Vivaldi, La fida ninfa, S. Piau, P. Jaroussky, S. Mingardo, Ensemble Matheus, J.-C. Spinosi (released on February 24, 2009) Naïve OP 30410

Naïve continues to release its superlative series of discs called the Vivaldi Edition, the best of what the partnership between musicology and performing ensembles has to offer. Jean-Christophe Spinosi and the Ensemble Matheus, after contributing a memorable 2006 recording of Vivaldi's Griselda to the series, return with this new recording of another unknown Vivaldi opera, La fida ninfa. The secret of Griselda's success was the stupendous cast that Spinosi assembled, and he has done it again with this rescue opera composed by il prete rosso for the grand opening of Verona's new opera theater designed by Francesco Bibiena, the Nuovo Teatro Filarmonico, on January 6, 1732. The singers sound impressive just listed on the page -- Sandrine Piau, Marie-Nicole Lemieux, Philippe Jaroussky, Sara Mingardo -- and the results in sound are universally delightful. And, let's face it, the only reason to listen to most Vivaldi operas is for daring and gorgeous singing.

Francesco Maffei's libretto involves the usual mistaken identities among paired lovers, with the twist that the assumed names of one of the men is the actual name of the other man. Pirates, in addition to their demanding work of rerouting maritime commerce, also provoke all kinds of operatic trouble, in this case by kidnapping two brothers from the Aegean island of Skyros -- just not at the same time, so that the young men do not know they are brothers. The pirates then also abduct a shepherd and his two daughters from Skyros, and one of the daughters happens to have been betrothed to one of the brothers, whom she now believes to be the wrong brother because of the name mix-up. Arias ensue, but eventually all confusion is resolved and the prisoners all go home to Skyros. Juno protects them from a storm on the voyage home, predicting that one day their story will appear on the stage of a new theater in Italy.

Sandrine Piau scintillates in the high-flying showpieces for Licori (the role with much of the opera's best music, created by the evidently talented soprano Giovanna Gasperini), especially in the breathtaking embellishments added to the da capo repeats (as in Alma oppressa da sorte crudele in Act I -- leaving Cecilia Bartoli in this performance behind in the dust). Piau also glides effortlessly and silkily through slow arias like Amor mio, la cruda sorte in Act II and the devastatingly beautiful Dalla gioia e dall'amore in Act III. Verónica Cangemi sets off some fireworks of her own in the lead male role (Morasto was created by soprano castrato Giuseppe Valentini), with a darker tone and athletic passage work in Destin avaro in Act II, a good example of the register-crossing bravura singing for which the castrati were famed, but a suave, contained sound on the Act III aria Dite, oimè, accompanied here (quite strikingly -- see video embedded below) only by Baroque guitar, played by Philippe Spinosi (brother of the conductor of the Ensemble Matheus). Contralto Marie-Nicole Lemieux continues to impress in recording since her victory at the Queen Elisabeth Competition in 2000, singing with rich sonority and accuracy in Cerva che al monte in Act III. Sara Mingardo is a calmly maternal presence as Giunone (Big Juno).


Dite, oimè, from La fida ninfa, Verónica Cangemi and Philippe Spinosi
(compare to this version with Cecilia Bartoli)
For the male roles, Topi Lehtipuu acquits himself admirably as Narete, especially in the Act II lament Deh ti piega, singled out by Alex Ross recently when he chose this recording for his CD of the Week (complete with audio track). Countertenor Philippe Jaroussky has found noteworthy success in this sort of repertoire, and his tone is pretty if a little breathy as Osmino (created by alto castrato Stefano Pasi). One of the unusual features of this opera are some ensembles, a trio at the end of Act I and a quartet at the end of Act II, which are given beautifully balanced readings by this cast. The playing of Ensemble Matheus is as nuanced and tight as in Griselda, with the same exciting, buzzing sound on the overture as we noted of the group's live performance at the Library of Congress last year. Instrumental contributions are uniformly fine, with theorbo, guitar, harpsichord, and organ providing some varied colors in the continuo.

3 h 12

Accentus Rethinks Fauré

G. Fauré, Requiem Mass / Cantique de Jean Racine, S. Piau, S. Degout, Accentus, L. Equilbey (released on November 18, 2008) Naïve V 5137

The talented and wide-ranging chamber choir Accentus, based in Paris and directed by Laurence Equilbey, is a group we hope to hear live soon. Their impressive discography includes an intriguing selection of Liszt's sacred music and a program of choral transcriptions that Jens has reviewed for WETA. Neither of the sacred choral works of Fauré on this new disc, the setting of (most of) the Requiem Mass (op. 48) and the Cantique de Jean Racine, really needs a new recording, but anyone looking to buy their first recording or get a new perspective on these somewhat overexposed works should give this new version by Accentus and members of the Orchestre national de France a spin. The performances could not be more authentically French, and not only in the pronunciation of the Racine translation of Consors paterni luminis in the Cantique (much more about the living than the dead, which makes its typical programming with the Requiem Mass something of a mystery). Sandrine Piau gives a heart-melting rendition of the Pie Jesu movement of the Requiem, with what must be the perfect voice, all shimmering color at the center of the tone, for that most famous aria, which is done so poorly so often. Baritone Stéphane Degout is a mellow, golden cantorial presence in the Offertorium and Libera Me, and the children's voices of the Maîtrise de Paris hover ethereally above the Accentus voices in the In paradisum.

The best option for a reference recording of the Fauré Requiem is the original 1893 orchestration, for chamber orchestra (two horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani, harp, violas, cellos, double basses, organ, solo violin), which is what is recorded here, rather than the later augmentation for full orchestra, which may have been carried out for publication by Fauré's student Jean Roger-Ducasse and is found in many older recordings. The 1893 version of the score was not published until 1994, after the parts were discovered in the archives of the Eglise de La Madeleine, where Fauré was maître de chapelle and organist, by musicologist Jean-Michel Nectoux. Although not recorded at La Madeleine, where Fauré led the premiere of the work (to commemorate the death of King Louis XVI, a royalist association that does not attach much to the work anymore), this recording benefits from the acoustic of the church of Sainte-Clotilde, in the 7e arrondissment, which provides a warm, resonant background for luscious sound. The organ of Sainte-Clotilde, a legendary Cavaillé-Coll instrument inaugurated by César Franck and updated by Charles Tournemire and Jean Langlais, produces an extraordinary range of sounds in the hands of Christophe Henry (much of the original sound has been restored in recent renovations of the organ).

41'21"

McCreesh Surveys the Vastness of Creation

Haydn, The Creation, S. Piau, M. Padmore, Gabrieli Consort, P. McCreesh (released February 5, 2008) Archiv 477 7361

One of the best things about Handel's Messiah (and his other oratorios) was that performances of English oratorios inspired Haydn to compose The Creation. The origins of the libretto are a little murky, beginning supposedly with an English text, now lost, that was translated into German by Baron Gottfried van Swieten (for the latest research, see the article by Neil Jenkins in the Journal of the Haydn Society of Great Britain from 2005). The sources of the text (.PDF file by Neil Jenkins) include Genesis, the Psalms, Milton, and John Thomson. In any case, the language that Haydn worked with was the German, and its "re-translation" back into English is problematic enough that many performances in English-speaking countries use the German version. For this excellent recording, Paul McCreesh has attempted a rescue of the English (see the version by Jenkins -- .PDF file), with harmonious results. There should be a slot for it on your shelf, right next to William Christie's recent recording of the German version with Les Arts Florissants.

McCreesh, ever careful about his performance practice choices, has opted to try to recreate what it is likely that Haydn had in mind. Namely, the overblown style of oratorio he had heard in London, with large orchestras and choruses, which was recreated in the earliest performances of the work in Vienna. That may not sound all that inviting, but he augments his Gabrieli Consort and Players by partnering with young musicians from Chetham's School of Music in Manchester. The sound is large but still refined and musically sensitive, of a sort that tempts one to forget about the label of historically informed performance (HIP) altogether.

Paul McCreesh, conductor Other Reviews: Monteverdi's 1610 Vespers | Handel, Saul | Gluck, Paride ed Elena

Just like Christie, McCreesh has called on five soloists, single-casting the often doubled roles (Gabriel/Eve and Raphael/Adam). Singing Uriel, who is more or less the oratorio's main narrative voice, is the exquisite Mark Padmore, a British tenor in the Ian Bostridge vein. This is a thoroughly English Uriel, contrasted by the ever so slightly French-tinged English of Sandrine Piau's Gabriel. Neither is the sort of singer to impress solely by force, although Piau shines over the chorus radiantly. The other soloists -- Neal Davies as a growling Raphael, Peter Harvey and Miah Persson as a warm, well-matched Adam and Eve -- round out an ideal cast, who sound equally well alone and in their various ensemble combinations.

McCreesh has Timothy Roberts accompany the recitatives, crucial hinge pieces that can often be neglected, on a fortepiano based on an early 19th-century Viennese instrument by Josef Brodmann. For me the test always comes at the end of the second part, where the creation of mankind is a source of wonderment. Here is where Haydn composed some of his most delectable music, especially the concluding angelic trio ("On thee each living soul awaits") with its wandering clarinet lines. It is likely the most perfect musical statement of the Enlightenment's humanist message, found in Uriel's gorgeous aria In native worth and honour clad. The lines "and in his eye with brightness shines the soul, / the breath and image of his God," on which Haydn dwells, are the later counterpart to the image of Adam's creation on the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

Vivaldi Edition: Atenaide

Available at Amazon: Vivaldi, Atenaide, S. Piau, V. Genaux, G. Laurens, Modo Antiquo, F. M. Sardelli (released on October 30, 2007)

Vivaldi Edition: Griselda (2006) Tito Manlio (2006) Arie d'opera, with Sandrine Piau (2005) Orlando finto pazzo (2004) La verità in cimento (2003) L'Olimpiade (2003) Juditha Triumphans (2001)

The Vivaldi Edition, the quixotic project conceived by musicologist Alberto Basso to record the music by Vivaldi found in manuscripts in the Biblioteca Nazionale in Turin, continues with this new release from Naïve. The restoration of Vivaldi's reputation as an opera composer has been remarkable. The article on Vivaldi in the 1980 edition of the New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians does not even include the operas (over 60 of them) in the incomplete works list. This opera is in many ways the centerpiece of the Vivaldi Edition, recorded in Florence's Teatro della Pergola, the only 18th-century theater to have premiered a Vivaldi opera, Atenaide, and to have survived to the present time. The instrumental component is performed by another of the burgeoning crop of fine European historically informed performance ensembles, Modo Antiquo. Their delightful, wild-haired director, Federico Maria Sardelli, has assembled an extraordinary cast list, claiming that

the voices were chosen not merely for their suitability for the characters they were to impersonate, but also in the perspective of an ideal succession, as heirs to the specific characteristics of the singers who gave the premiere, and whose vocal profile is well known to us.

You surely cannot go wrong with any recording that features Sandrine Piau, Vivica Genaux, Guillemette Laurens, Romina Basso, and Nathalie Stutzmann. All of them give performances that are consistently impressive and, more often than not, exemplary. You can sample a few of them online: Vivica Genaux (Teodosio's "Al tribunal d'amore"), Sandrine Piau (Eudossa's "Della rubella"), and Nathalie Stutzmann (Marziano's "Cor mio, che prigion sei").

How are all these women able to share the stage? Well, the plot, a little complicated, concerns an imperial marriage, between the Greek princess Eudossa (Piau) and the Byzantine emperor Teodosio (the castrato role sung by Genaux). Eudossa has fled her former existence, when she was loved by Varane (created by the Venetian contralto Elisabetta Moro and sung here by Romina Basso), who previously knew her under the name of Atenaide. Varane ends up in Byzantium, too, and is soon betrothed to the emperor's sister Pulcheria (Guillemette Laurens, channeling Anna Girò, Vivaldi's infamous protegée). This does not sit well with Marziano (created by the Florentine contralto Anna Maria Faini and sung here by Nathalie Stutzmann), the Byzantine general who loves her. Add to this mess of relationships one of the emperor's attendants, Probo, who has been rejected by Pulcheria. Iago-like, he attempts to drive a wedge between Teodosio and Eudossa/Atenaide through deception, but all is set to right in the end.

It should be clear that the story is not the opera's main attraction, and musically this performance is most worthy listening. The only drawback is in the male voices, as the two respectable tenors pale by comparison with their female counterparts. As recently remarked of Paul Agnew's performance in a DVD of Rameau's Les Boréades, his voice tends towards a fluttery vibrato and discoloration at loud dynamics. The positives of Agnew's high notes tend to outweigh the negatives in the French repertoire, but here in Vivaldi (as Eudossa's father, Leontino), more tracks end up disappointing than not. As the conniving Probo, tenor Stefano Ferrari has a more pleasing tone but falls flat dramatically, just not sounding all that conniving. With minor reservations, this is a superlative achievement of significant musicological importance, only the latest in the generally impressive Vivaldi Edition.

Naïve OP 30438


Vivaldi, Atenaide, Teatro La Pergola, Florence

La Piau

Available at Amazon: Sandrine Piau, Mozart Opera Arias, Freiburger Barockorchester, Gottfried von der Goltz (2002)

We have reviewed French soprano Sandrine Piau before at Ionarts, including her disc of Handel arias with Les Talens Lyriques and a live performance of Mozart's Il Rè Pastore with the Orchestre des Folies Françoises at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées. A copy of her 2002 CD of Mozart arias recently came across my desk, and the experience has been worth the wait. La Piau gave an interview to Philippe Gelinaud shortly after this recording was released, where she has some noteworthy things to say about who created the embellished da capo repeats in her various performances and recordings. Christophe Rousset often writes them for his recordings, she said, as did Emmanuelle Haïm when she was Rousset’s assistant, but not Gloria Banditelli, under Fabio Biondi, when Piau composed her own. Her favorite da capos, she said, are those composed by Jérôme Corréas, including some on this Mozart CD (not credited) and some on the Handel CD (I pointed them out as excellent in my review).

La Piau is in top form on this disc, her high-flying soprano sounding as flexible and laser-like as ever in Nel grave tormento, Aspasia's demanding aria from Mitridate, Rè di Ponto, for example. The selection is well chosen, with only one familiar choice, a shimmering Ach, ich fühls: besides three of Aspasia's arias, there are three of Giunia's pieces from Lucio Silla, one of Elisa's from Il Rè Pastore, one for Servilia from La Clemenza di Tito, and three for Konstanze from Die Entführung aus dem Serail. In all of them, Piau combines a lush sense of legato line, a clear and refined vocal color, and sparkling agility. All of that technique can be used by Piau to create performances of devastating simplicity, as in the final track, Zaïde's Ruhe sanft, mein holdes Leben (see the video below, with Les Talens Lyriques). The ensemble behind La Piau is the Freiburger Barockorchester, and this is the first time they have reached my ears. The results make me interested in their other recordings.

Naïve E8877

Sandrine Piau at the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées

There were several concerts that I had hoped to hear during my trip to Paris. One cannot do everything, but I definitely was not going to miss the chance to hear French soprano Sandrine Piau, whose recent CD of Handel arias I so admired, sing live. She was scheduled to sing the role of Elisa in Mozart's early opera Il Rè Pastore (Salzburg, 1775) in a concert performance at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées on Monday night. Jean-Louis Validire wrote a preview (Le retour de Sandrine Piau au baroque, March 20) for Le Figaro (my translation):

One cannot speak about Sandrine Piau returning to the Baroque in the sense that she never really left it. Her incursions into operetta, Romantic music, or even contemporary music are nothing but escapades. Wanda in La Grande-duchesse de Gerolstein or Ninette in L'Amour des trois oranges did not manage to detach her from her major field. Still, the young harpist was rather drawn to Bartók, Berg, and Schoenberg. It was her encounter with William Christie, who was teaching vocal performance practice, at the Conservatoire national de Paris who sent the singer into this world, where she has conquered both the audience and critics.

"The Baroque is for me the possibility of taking advantage of the sadness and melancholy inside me. It led me to the 18th-century French music, for which I had neither love at first sight or vocal enthusiasm," she admits. It was with Christophe Rousset that she would undertake the intellectual work that would lead to the discovery of the possibilities offered by Handel's operas. "I did not want to be limited to the coloratura roles of the traditional repertoire, to which I did not relate psychologically. In Baroque opera, the interplay of voices and characters give, in addition, a great liberty." [...]

Mozart is like her old friend, since she has already sung in The Magic Flute and The Abduction from the Seraglio, but "there are not many roles for me, besides Pamina, in the Da Ponte trilogy," she states, even though she has twice been offered Donna Anna. That's a project that might happen one day if certain conditions, notably the use of old instruments and ideas, as well as a vocal casting, in accordance with her convictions are brought together. For authenticity remains one of her demands, even if she is still very pragmatic, notably about the problems of tuning. "Twenty years ago with Christie, A was at 415. Now, we have organs tuned at 392, which makes me very comfortable especially in Les Leçons de ténèbres. But we should not forget that what was historic was freedom. It's a mistake to fix rules in stone without taking account of the place where you are singing. In Mozart, in my opinion, the ideal is 430," she says.

From Jean-Louis Validire, La fraîcheur du jeune Mozart (Le Figaro, March 23): As the interpreter of Elisa, who wants to join her destiny to that of the shepherd Aminta -- who does not know yet, as the work's title indicates, that he is in fact the king of Sidon liberated by Alexander from Strato's tyranny -- Sandrine Piau is at the height of her career, agile in melismatic passages, with a projection comfortable in the character's palette. Aminta, a role originally created by the castrato Tommaso Consoli, is entrusted in this version to Céline Ricci, less comfortable than she promised to be. On the other hand, the English tenor Paul Agnew sang Alexander with a beautiful diction and delicate timbre. He gave him all the majesty he could, based on what the librettist, Metastasio, allowed. Sophie Karthäuser made a pleasant Tamiri, the tyrant's daugther who disguises herself as a shepherd to escape from Alexander, from whom she wrongly fears vengeance. Tenor Sébastien Droy completed the group in this concert version by portraying Agenore, the emperor's counselor, who is in love with Tamiri. Metastasio classically opposed the virtues of rural life to those of the city and exalted the goodness of Alexander who, despite the blindness that characterizes leaders, winds up by matching up each one with his beloved in the happiness of a very beautiful final ensemble, whose sounds were perfectly rendered by the singers. The Orchestre des Folies Françoises, directed by violinist Patrick Cohën-Akenine, gave much freshness to this score, contemporary with the composer's violin concertos. The old flutes of this ensemble dedicated to Baroque music, who play on early instruments, were particularly beautiful. As usual, the natural trumpets and horns did what they could not to transform the thunder that accompanies Alexander's arrival into a pétard mouillé [wet firecracker], to the great pleasure of lovers of authentic instruments.

The Théâtre des Champs-Élysées hosts the best sequence of musical events -- staged operas and ones in concert versions, chamber music, symphonic music, recitals -- in Paris. As I learned, you can buy rather inexpensive tickets -- senior citizens and students can wait until the last half-hour before curtain and get most seats at half-price, too -- but those inexpensive seats are small, uncomfortable, and without leg room. Where I sat on Monday night, in the back row of the second tier, I could hear very well and had a moderate enough view of the musicians. No seat is terribly far from the stage, and just about every seat as far as I could see was filled, and in this auditorium, that means that people are fairly well piled on top of one another. The attraction of this performance -- Sandrine Piau -- became clear when a voice came on the loudspeaker just before curtain: "Madame Sandrine Piau is the victim of a nasty cold." An exasperated groan was audible from the audience, but when the speaker continued, "But in order to enable this performance and recording to continue, she has agreed to sing." The audience emitted an even louder sigh of relief, none louder and more relieved than yours truly.

Pietro Metastasio wrote this very popular libretto in 1751, for a private performance to celebrate the birthday of the Empress Maria Theresa at Schönbrunn Palace, in which her children played the leading roles. He adapted the story from an episode in the history of Alexander the Great's conquest of Phoenicia, not as the title character might make us think, from the famous pastoral by Torquato Tasso, Aminta (or in italiano, from 1581). When the son of Empress Maria Theresa, Archduke Maximilian Franz, visited Salzburg, Mozart took up this libretto for a performance in the Archduke's honor in the Archbishop's palace. Mozart and his father had seen a performance, a few years before this at the Haymarket in London, of Felice Giardini's opera based on Metastasio's text, which may have given him the idea to set it. A writer in Salzburg, Gianbattista Varesco, trimmed down Metastasio's libretto for Mozart.

We've been hearing a lot of Mozart lately (Lucio Silla in Santa Fe last summer, Marriage of Figaro in Paris this week, Così Fan Tutte and Abduction from the Seraglio back in Washington, and La Clemenza di Tito coming up soon), but I welcomed the chance to hear Il Rè Pastore again. Mozart was only 19 when he composed it, and while it has some Baroque characteristics (the young man's first visit to Mannheim was not until 1777), you can hear definite signs of what we cherish in Mozart's mature operas.

The Orchestre des Folies Françoises does not have the same reputation outside of France as some other early music ensembles, but it gave a sound performance. All players stand while playing, and there is no conductor, only cues given by music director Patrick Cohën-Akenine, who is also lead violin. For the most part, this arrangement worked, although there were a few moments where a non-playing conductor could have kept the ensemble together. They sounded quite good, especially the strings and woodwinds, and in some cases the brass -- not all, due to the notoriously unpredictable nature of those instruments.

The first act ends with an excellent duet between Piau's Elisa and Aminta, sung by mezzo-soprano Céline Ricci, whose rich, dark voice and animated demeanor reminded a little of Cecilia Bartoli, although she had some trouble at the top of the part's range. A remarkable moment of acting occurred just before that duet, when Aminta asks, "È sogno?" (Is this a dream?), and Elisa replies, "Ah no," with the same look of bemused incredulity. Paul Agnew sang brilliantly as Alessandro, negotiating the difficult runs especially with grace, although the voice is on the dark side and the vibrato a little excessive. Sophie Karthäuser sang well as Tamiri, particularly in her vengeance aria in Act II ("Se tu di me fai dono"), as did Sébastien Droy as Agenore.

The closing quintet, a rather extended ensemble involving all of the characters, is neither as fully developed nor as individually characterized as the later examples in Mozart's operas. For much of it, a pair of characters sing together in homophony, but there are moments of contrapuntal definition and simultaneous characterization. In particular, one aspect stood out as I listened, a phrase that gets repeated several times: "No, che ad amore un cor / Resistere non sa" (No, there is no heart / that can resist love). It sums up the joy with which Mozart infused this finale, a happy confidence in the power of love to conquer all. It is still infectious.

After additional performances on March 23 in Orléans and on March 25 in Avignon, the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées concert will be broadcast on France-Musiques this Wednesday, March 29, 8 pm.

More Handel Arias, Sandrine Piau

Available on Amazon: Sandrine Piau, Haendel Opera Seria, Les Talens Lyriques, Christophe Rousset, Naïve E 8894 (U.S. release, January 18, 2005, recorded and European release in 2004) Also on Ionarts: Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, Handel Arias (January 20, 2006) Andreas Scholl, Arias for Senesino (November 21, 2005) Cecilia Bartoli, Opera Proibita (October 6, 2005) Violons du Roy with Karina Gauvin, Kennedy Center (January 23, 2005) Renée Fleming, Handel (November 22, 2004)

Handel has been very big for new solo aria discs the past couple years. More than one Ionarts reader (most recently, one Akimon) has suggested Sandrine Piau's CD of opera seria arias, and finally I received a copy as a gift. (Dear Naïve Representative, please start sending us the new discs in your catalogue, and Ionarts will review more of your releases.) Christophe Rousset has worked with Sandrine Piau on a number of projects, and the two created this program as a look back at their performing careers together, beginning with the first Handel opera they recreated together, Scipione (1726), in 1994. The disc brings together 11 coloratura arias from as many operas that Handel premiered in London, from Amadigi di Gaula in 1715 to Deidamia in 1741.

There is a phrase on this recording that will tickle every part of your melodic fancy, from long, spun-out adagios to thrilling, soaring passage work. I admit that I was taken with this disc from my first listening to the first track, an excellent selection from Scipione, where Piau and Rousset's collaboration began. The little cadenza before the da capo repeat rises up to an unexpected high note, leading the listener into a brilliantly ornamented second statement of the A section. Rousset's group, Les Talens Lyriques, provides the perfect instrumental background for Piau's extraordinary voice. This is Baroque performance with the same appeal for the baroqueux and the non-specialist ear. Full-voiced, dramatic readings with élan, and daring ornamentation to provide interest (seven of the embellished da capo repeats credited to Rousset, and five -- many of the best ones, in my opinion -- to Jérôme Corréas, a bass who has appeared on recordings with Piau, including that of Rameau's Castor et Pollux by Les Arts Florissants). Instrumental soloists are listed with each appropriate track, and rightly so, because their crucial contributions are all superlatively played.

Piau's voice is a marvel, somewhere between the cold laser of an early music voice like Emma Kirkby and the emotional energy of a more full-bodied voice like Cecilia Bartoli. The high notes are ringingly clear, and broad dynamic possibilities are played out throughout her range. In sustained melismatic passages she has remarkable agility, with occasional lapses in tone ("L'amor ed il destin," from Partenope, track 5, is an example), although she can leap out of those complicated runs into striking stratospheric ornaments ("Brilla nell'anima," from Alessandro, track 7).

The purpose of the recording, according to the excellent liner notes by Philippe Gelinaud, is (the translation is by Charles Johnston):

to illustrate both the variety of affects, dramatic situations, and orchestral colors, and the rich hedonism of Handel's vocal style. The result is an anthology devoted to the Handelian prima donna that features arias composed over more than two decades for some of the greatest divas of the time.

Each track represents a highly distilled flavor, concentrated musical felicity. Listening to a selection of arias out of their operatic context, with their short texts of usually only a few lines, makes absolutely clear what the function of the Baroque aria was. That is, not to advance the narrative but to take you into the character's state of mind. When you realize that, the practice of the substitute aria makes much more sense, because you do not really need to know anything about the operas or characters associated with each aria to appreciate it. In a way, that emotional piece, illuminated with appropriate musical color, could be inserted into any story.

Handel's best and most consistent operas date mostly from the heyday of the Academy of Ancient Music, especially in the 1720s. However, there are pieces from the later operas that show that the older Handel in command of vast compositional powers. Clotilde's aria -- "Combattuta da due venti," from Faramondo (1738), track 9 -- stands out on this disc. The heroine's words, that she is "like a ship amid the billows buffeted by two opposing winds," are played out in the wavelike cataract of clashing instrumental parts of the ritornello. Each time that section of music returns, which calls out for ornamentation, Piau and Rousset's players torque up the musical buffeting. The same is true of the aria from Deidamia from 1741 ("M'ai resa infelice," sung by the title character, track 11), which is not a da capo aria, shifting between extremes of emotion with contrasting musical styles.

I warmly recommend this disc, as supplanting even Lorraine Hunt Lieberson's excellent Handel CD in the same year. As my own celebration of the Mozart year, I will be acquiring Sandrine Piau's acclaimed 2002 CD of Mozart arias and her Vivaldi Project disc (from 2005), too.