Misantrope Moliere

Ensemble Molière presents a luxuriant and varied selection of French Baroque music to accompany Louis XIV, the Sun King, in his daily life. What better way to wake up than to be serenaded by the Overture from Charpentier’s Les Arts Florissants ? The King’s day continues with extracts from Lully’s Phaëton as the sun rises, a little Couperin as the royal household’s day unfolds, a Symphonie pour les soupers du Roy by Delalande to accompany supper, dance music from the Ballet Royal de la Nuit and a suite to accompany the setting sun from Marais’ Trios pour le coucher du Roy . Louis XIV chose to portray himself as the Sun, the manifestation of the god Apollo on earth and the ultimate power which gives life to all things. This album reimagines a day in the life of one of the most magnificent royals of the Baroque era.

Nino Rota’s reputation outside Italy as, at best, a civilised purveyor of minor theatre music is turning out to be hardly even a half-truth. BIS’s series of his symphonic and chamber works, and Chandos’s of the concertos, reveals a composer of incisive gifts and technical brilliance. Civilised the music certainly is, but often far more than that, its pervasive wit enhancing rather than detracting from the elegant suggestions of deep feeling. The wise and wily ‘neo-classicism’ of the Third Symphony sets out like an exercise in updated Mozart, but though Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony is brought to mind it soon becomes evident that a strain of acid melancholy undercuts the dapper phraseology. The model here, if there is one, seems more likely to be late Busoni, with disturbing cross-currents just beneath the surface. The Concerto festivo, more obviously a display piece, takes Italian opera genres (aria, cabaletta, etc) and reinterprets them in fairly irreverent orchestral terms, while the ballet music that Rota produced for the tercentenary of the death of Molière – almost his last work –insouciantly mixes Baroque, modern and popular styles, just as it mixes merriment and melancholy, with constant technical brilliance and utter lack of pomposity. The Swedish performers take to the Italianate gaiety as to the manner born. A delightful disc.

It would not, perhaps, be too much of a stretch to think of Marc-Antoine Charpentier as a sort of late 17th century Poulenc. Poulenc is known for two distinct artistic faces, one a comedian of the zaniest sort, and the other capable of expressing the most profound emotional depth. Charpentier's work lay in almost complete obscurity for nearly two centuries when in the late 20 century it began being brought to light, revealing one of the most fertile and inventive musical minds of the Baroque. He has been known almost exclusively for his religious music, and particularly for his gift for expressing the darkest grief.