A French Fairy

Purcell’s ‘The Fairy Queen’ is, in many ways, very hard to perform effectively. A series of masques intended to be interpolated between acts of Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, when presented on its own it can seem shapeless and incoherent. Even when performed in the context of the play, as was the case at Glyndebourne in 2009, a through line is hard to discern – connection to the play seems vague, and, indeed, some authorities claim there is no connection with the play at all.

What is beyond question is that ‘The Fairy Queen’ is musically superb and, in the right hands, can be a compelling piece of music theatre. A new production by ‘Le Jardins des Voix’ triumphantly proves this point.

‘Le Jardins des Voix’ is the young singers’ academy of ‘Les Arts Florissant’, (with their founder and chief conductor William (Bill) Christie, the pre – eminent Renaissance operatic/choral ensemble) and ‘The Fairy Queen’ is the work chosen for the young singers this year. The production is touring throughout Europe and is also visiting the USA and Canada. In the interests of transparency, I should point out that my son, baritone Hugo Herman-Wilson, is in the cast.

Hugo’s mother and I were unable to attend any performances before one in the Cite de la Musique in Paris on Saturday 6th January, but we had watched a video of a live-streamed  performance from Bucharest, so knew what to expect: an exhilarating ensemble performance, which presented the work in a new light, while preserving exemplary musical values, and illustrating the timeless nature of Purcell’s genius.

The Cite de la Musique is a huge complex on the outskirts of Paris, home to the Paris Philharmonie. The large hall where ‘The Fairy Queen’ was performed was full and the audience attentive. What unfolded over ninety minutes was revelatory. Eight singers were joined by six dancers and there was an orchestra of twenty five. All were dressed simply in black suits (the singers and dancers sometimes removing jackets to reveal coloured shirts). They formed a cohesive unit and, while the singers did most of the singing and the dancers most of the dancing, there were moments when all fourteen reacted and moved as one, to exhilarating effect. Choreography was by Mourad Merzouki, artistic director of Compagnie Käfig, and is known for creating fusions of traditional dance and contemporary forms such as Street Dance. Thus it was that the wonderful dancers (Baptiste Coppin, Samuel Florimond, Anahi Passi, Alary-Youra Ravin, Daniel Saad et Timothée Zig) were able to put both classical technique and gritty urban moves to the service of Purcell’s music in a way unique in my experience. There was interplay with the orchestra too, so that the whole performance took on an organic quality, ebbing and flowing, now vibrant, now still, now apparently chaotic, now supremely controlled, now lusty, now pensive, now knock about comedy, now poignant with a sense of loss and regret.

Individual talents were put to the service of the whole, although personalities were always clear. Hugo Herman-Wilson, by virtue of physical stature and a charismatic comic persona, was often at the centre of events, bullied and bamboozled as the Drunken Poet, and taking charge of the final Chaconne very much in the manner of Bottom and his bergamasque dance in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. The singing was invariably fresh and accomplished, Juliette Mey delivering one of the vocal highlights of the evening with her singing of ‘O Let Me Weep’ accompanied by orchestra leader, Emmanuel Resche-Caserta, who left his seat  to partner her as an equal. However, all the singers deserve mention: Paulina Francisco, soprano, Georgia Burashko, mezzo-soprano, Rebecca Leggett, mezzo-soprano, Juliette Mey, mezzo-soprano, Ilja Aksionov, tenor, Rodrigo Carreto, tenor, Hugo Herman-Wilson, baritone, and Benjamin Schilperoort, bass-baritone, are names to look out for. The sopranos and mezzo sopranos offered bright tone and agility, the tenors light, lyrical and airy timbres, the baritone and bass-baritone providing humour as mentioned above, but also gravitas when required. They combined superbly for the chorus numbers.

The conductor was Paul Agnew, in the past an eminent tenor specialising in renaissance and baroque music and now the Assistant Musical Director of Les Arts Florissants. His direction was exemplary and all the more impressive given that he and his orchestra were situated behind the singers and dancers.

The audience practically exploded with enthusiasm at the conclusion of the performance – there was a unanimous standing ovation, and many calls for an encore, but it was impossible for anything to follow a performance so perfect and complete in itself.