Cherubini’s Médée at Théâtre des Champs Elysées – Review & Performance Details

Could this finally be an exit from Purgatory? One year after the series of performances at the Opéra-Comique, it is the turn of the Théâtre des Champs Elysées to offer us a new Medea by Luigi Cherubini, in French here again, but this time for a unique concert. We also find two interpreters in common, Julien Behr in Jason and Marie-Andrée Bouchard-Lesieur in Neris.
The cast gathered on the stage of the Théâtre des Champs Élysées indeed escaped for an evening to the Seine Musicale where they recorded the work, under the care of the Fondation du Palazzetto Bru Zane. We also feel all the coherence born from these joint work sessions, and the work on diction that results from it (notably among Marina Rebekahthe only non-French speaker on the plateau).
Compared to the Medea presented last year, one difference is obvious: it is not the original dialogues in Alexandrian that we hear this evening, but a new version with recitatives, by Alain Curtis. We may be surprised by this departure from a certain orthodoxy on the part of the Palazzetto Bru Zane, which claims to present here the lyrical tragedy that Luigi Cherubini would have dreamed of. However, let us recognize that our ears fed with the Italian version are more familiar with it than in the “comic opera” version (even though we regret the less dramatic effectiveness of this French version compared to the Italian version during the appearance of Medea). This also modifies the character of the work, tending more towards a pre-romantic bubbling when the version at the Opéra-Comique respected more a classical “fall”.
This dramatic impulse is found in the breathtaking direction of Julien Chauvinat the head of his Concert de la Loge. It moves forward, carries us towards the abyss, even if it sometimes means rushing the tempos. You have to hear the violence of the storm at the start of Act 3, all winds and percussion outside, breathtaking! However, there is no dryness in the texture and orchestral colors, which bring out unusual details.
The choir Les Chantres of the Baroque Music Center of Versailles is of admirable clarity and precision, with, as a downside, a slight lack of foundation in the bass.
But what would Medea without an extraordinary protagonist? And the magician Marina Rebekah is simply monstrous, of anger, of distress, from the moment she enters in a flamboyant carmine dress. The voice knows how to make itself velvety to coax Créon, but the claws come to the surface very quickly. The long and homogeneous voice seems infinite, the high notes, darting, are so many slaps addressed to the fickle husband, and the moiré timbre, with polar reflections, seems made to reveal the abysses of darkness and homicidal madness. The face remains closed, the hands twist, and the singer is so in her role that she still seems furious when the applause comes at the end of Act 1. It will take a stubborn tablet incident after the intermission (which will provoke an encore of the musical introduction to Act 2) to disturb her and make her come out of the role. Deconcentration or completely understandable fatigue (the role is a vocal and emotional Everest), the singer seems more immersed in her score, a little less embodied, at the end of the evening, but without detracting from the crucifying impact of the finale. This is clearly a major incarnation which we are delighted to have captured on disc and which we can’t wait to see in a stage version.
As at the Opéra-Comique, Néris has the sweetness and pulpy timbre of Marie-Andrée Bouchard-Lesieur. His look “Ah! Our sorrows will be common” is admirably modeled, a suspended moment, radiating modesty and tenderness, in the middle of an ocean of darkness. Melissa PetitDircé quivering with juvenility and delicacy, also shines in her virtuoso aria in Act 1.
Julien Behr He portrays an ambivalent Jason, both arrogant and cowardly. Like last year, he demonstrates great vocal solidity, and, although covered by his partner in the duets, he does not bend (which is already an achievement). Finally the Creon of Patrick Bolleirewith superlative diction and careful legato, lacks a bit of bite in the bursts and appears more monolithic than that proposed by Edwin Crossley-Mercer at the Opéra-Comique.

This memorable evening in any case augurs the best for this new recording of the Medeafinally in its original language.