Ensemble Correspondances, directed by Sébastien Daucé
69:56
harmonia mundi HMM 902679
There are doubtless many like myself who first became aware of André Campra’s sublime Requiem through the recording made by John Eliot Gardiner in 1979. This new version, by one of today’s most renowned French ensembles, is very different, taking its point of reference not from Campra’s period as maître de musique at Notre-Dame in Paris (1694-1700), but a new theory as to the provenance of a work that has always been surrounded by mystery as to its original purpose and date of composition. That is explained in the scholarly note by Thomas Leconte in harmonia mundi’s booklet. It is too complex to go into detail here, but it makes a convincing argument for suggesting the Mass is unlikely to have been written for either Notre-Dame or the chapelle royale, where Campra became one of the sous-maîtres from 1723. That leaves open the suggestion that it was the Mass directed by Campra in 1700 at the Église des Mathurins for the funeral service of Louis Boucherat, Chancellor of France.
That the Requiem was therefore most likely written for less grand surroundings than Notre-Dame or the Chapelle Royale probably explains the reasoning behind the substantially smaller forces in the present performance than are usually heard in the work. Given its nature, which chooses neither to stress the terror of death, nor to bathe in grief, but rather create an ambiance alternating between spiritual rest and the joy to be found in the light and peace attained in death, the more intimate forces are highly effective. This philosophy is clearly laid out in the opening words of the Introit, where the blissfully flowing polyphonic lines of ‘Requiem aeternam’ (Eternal rest …) give way at ‘et lux perpetua’ (and let perpetual light) to delicate dancing rhythms that remind us that Campra is today best remembered as the creator of the opéra-ballet. This dual approach dominates this infinitely touching work, which in keeping with the style of French sacred works of the 17th century flexibly alternates the chorus with a smaller petit-choeur that participates in solos or solo ensembles. It is one of the measures of the outstanding qualities of Sébastian Daucé’s performances that he has not only artists of the known stature of soprano Caroline Weynants and alto Lucile Richardot included in his petit-choeur, but less familiar names such as haute-contre Rodrigo Carreto and tenor François Joron also make distinguished contributions. The latter’s beautifully sustained line in Agnus Dei I is just one of the highlights of a performance that overall is of the highest quality.
It is something of a paradox that having persuasively convinced us that the Requiem has nothing to do with Notre-Dame, the subtitle of the CD is ‘& Les Maîtres de Notre-Dame de Paris’, the remainder of it being devoted to the 17th-century predecessors of Campra. Of these, the earliest is Jean Veillot (ca1600–62), composer of a simple, but effective Ave verum corpus, who succeeded his teacher Henry Frémart in the post in 1640, going on to become a sous-maître at the Chapelle-Royale, a familiar route for French composers. Veillot’s successor at Notre-Dame was François Cosset (ca1610–ca1673), substantial portions of whose six-part Mass ‘Domine salvum fac regem’ are included, as is the source motet by Veillot. The notes wax lyrical about the quality of the work, which seems to me a rather unremarkable setting largely employing old-fashioned Renaissance polyphony, but also syllabic homophony. The disc is completed by two fine motets by Pierre Robert (ca1622–99), one, ‘Tristis est anima mea’ being a brief setting of the words of Christ in the garden of Gethsemane, ‘My soul is sorrowful even unto death’, the closely-worked polyphony of the early part giving way to rhetorical emphasis at the point of Christ’s accusation to his disciples, ‘Vos fugem capietas’ (You shall run away).
A splendid addition to Ensemble Correspondances’ distinguished series of recordings of both sacred and secular music of the French Baroque.
Brian Robins