Leo Delibes - 3 amazing versions of his very best opera: Lakmé

Leo Delibes on Wikipedia.org
Leo Delibes was a French composer of Romantic music born 1836 in Saint-Germain-du-Val, France. The son of a mailman and a musical mother, but also the grandson of an opera singer. He was raised mainly by his mother and uncle following his father's early death. In 1871, at the age of 35, the composer married Léontine Estelle Denain. Delibes died 20 years later in 1891, and was buried in the Cimetière de Montmartre, Paris.

Starting in 1847, Delibes studied composition at the Paris Conservatoire as a student of Adolphe Adam. A year later, he also began taking voice lessons, though he would end up a much better organ player than singer. He held positions as a rehearsal accompanist and chorus master at the Théâtre-Lyrique, second chorus master at the Paris Opéra, (1864), and as organist at Saint-Pierre-de-Chaillot between 1865 and 1871. His first of many operettas was Deux sous le charbon, written in 1856 for the Folies-Nouvelles. Delibes achieved true fame in 1870 with the success of his ballet Coppélia; its title referred to a doll, depicted in the work, which comes to life. Other ballets include Sylvia (1876), and La Source (1866), his first, which he wrote with Léon Minkus.

Delibes also composed various operas, the last of which, the lush orientalizing Lakmé (1883), contains, among many dazzling numbers, the famous coloratura showpiece known as the Légende du Paria or Bell Song ("Où va la jeune Indoue?") and The Flower Duet, a barcarolle that British Airways commercials made familiar to non-opera-goers in the 1990s. At the time, his operas impressed Tchaikovsky enough for the composer to rate Delibes more highly than Brahms—which seems faint praise when one considers that the Russian composer considered Brahms "a giftless bastard."

In 1867 Delibes composed the Divertissement Le Jardin Animé for a revival of the Joseph Mazilier/Adolphe Adam ballet Le Corsaire; wrote a Mass, a cantata on the theme of Algiers; and composed operettas and occasional music for the theater, such as dances and antique airs for Victor Hugo's Le roi s'amuse, the play that Verdi turned into Rigoletto. Some musicologists believe that the ballet in Gounod's Faust was actually composed by Delibes.

This recording of Delibes's Indian opera—just one example of French authors' and musicians' fascination, in the late nineteenth century, with all things Oriental—has firmly held its place in the catalogue for 20 years, unchallenged until the recent appearance of the version conducted by Alain Lombard with Mady Mesple in the title role and an acceptable supporting cast (EMI)—which in fact had been made only a year later than the present set. Despite the many good qualities of the EMI, this one still wins on points. For one thing, it has the inestimable advantage of Alain Vanzo, the French lyric tenor par excellence, in the role of Gerald, another of those servicemen (though not a cad like Pinkerton) who fall victim to the exotic glamour of the East. Gabriel Bacquier is his usual dependable self as Lakme's father, and Monica Sinclair contributes a capital study of the prim-and-proper governess which (unlike that of her rival in the other recording) cleverly avoids becoming too ridiculous; the other minor characters are very well taken, the orchestral playing is stylish, and the production is intelligent and lively.

It is only on considering the title role that some difficult weighing-up becomes necessary. Mady Mesple's very French, light girlish tone admirably suggests the virginal character and innocence of the heroine: her intonation is impeccable, her coloratura seemingly effortless, and the clarity of her enunciation could stand as a model for all singers. In contrast, it is next to impossible to guess what Sutherland is singing about, and even with the libretto in front of one it is often hard to recognize the text as she sings it: consonants are sacrificed to the production of a striking beauty of tone, limpid and even throughout the compass (though, if one is to be purist about it, more Italian than French in character). A consideration in choosing between the two versions must be the recording quality, here still fresh and cleans the EMI having to contend with the over-resonant acoustics of the Salle Wagram in Paris, which among things leaves the chorus in mid-distance. And one final point which may well clinch matters: this is a medium price issue.

Lionel Salter