close
close

Meyerbeer’s Le prophète in a successful new recording

Meyerbeer’s Le prophète in a successful new recording

Mark Elder | Photo credit: Benjamin Ealovega

Mark Elder and the London Symphony Orchestra have released a magnificent recording of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s five-act opera extravaganza the Prophet (1849). The three-CD live album from the Festival d’Aix-en-Provence was recorded in ultra-high-resolution multi-channel DSD256 format and is best enjoyed via SACD or Hi-Res streaming.

Elder has many things going for him. First and foremost are his three superb leads: tenor John Osborn as Jean de Leyde, the prophet of the title; outstanding mezzo-soprano Elizabeth DeShong as Fidès, Jean’s beloved mother, a role first originated by the famous Pauline Viardot; and soprano Mané Galoyan as Berthe, Jean’s fiancée. Next, Elder has the fully committed London Symphony Orchestra, accompanied by three choirs (one of which, the Lyon Opera Chorus under Benedict Kearns, tends to scream under pressure).

Finally, Elder’s conducting reflects such a strong belief in opera that it more or less outweighs the absurdities of Meyerbeer’s great excesses and Eugène Scribe’s plot. the Prophetis, after all, a spectacle whose premiere at the Paris Opera was the first to use electric light to suggest a sunrise, and which was performed an astonishing 565 times in Paris between 1849 and the beginning of the First World War.

the ProphetThe plot of is easy to dismiss until one considers the unfortunate resurrection of its themes, in a very different guise, in the religious culture wars currently dividing Americans. Jean, an innkeeper with an uncanny resemblance to the Old Testament King David, is deeply devoted to Fidès, who in turn wants Jean to marry Berthe; the two young people also want to get married.

After the oppressive Count Oberthal (bass Edwin Crossley-Mercer) refuses to allow Berthe to marry Jean, Oberthal takes Berthe and Fidès prisoner. Three rebellious religious fanatics of the Anabaptist movement (bass James Platt, bass-baritone Guilhem Worms and tenor Valerio Contaldo) conspire with Jean to take revenge on Oberthal and put an end to his tyranny. Somewhere in a labyrinth of notes, Jean agrees to become the Anabaptists’ prophet.

In Acts 3 and 4, Jean tries to maintain his ruse and avoid being accused of being a false prophet by denying Fidès. She, in turn, believes her son is dead. Eventually, Fidès spots Berthe disguised as a pilgrim. The two of them plan to avenge Jean’s death by going to Münster Cathedral. There they see Jean being crowned Prophet King. To maintain his ruse, Jean again pretends that Fidès is not his mother. She, although clueless, finally surrenders to what is considered reality.

In the final act, the fickle Anabaptists turn on Jean to save themselves. Jean and Fidès reunite and decide to flee. Berthe prepares to kill the detested prophet, discovers that the prophet she hates is the man she loves, and resolves the conflict – in grand operatic fashion – by killing herself instead. Jean locks all his enemies in a room in the palace, sets the room on fire, and sings a duet with Fidès as they too go up in flames. The wages of sin is death.

All this is done in the grandiose manner that made Meyerbeer the star of Paris. (Richard Wagner’s jealousy of Meyerbeer’s extraordinary success led him to criticize the Jewish composer in his anti-Semitic treatise The Jewish in Music.) Meyerbeer presents us with choruses of ecstasy and revenge, magnificent waltzes, a triumphal scene and a bacchanal, pomp galore, and several ballets. Ultimately, it all serves – or serves as a pretext for – spectacular solo arias and extended duets and trios. Opera endures because of its succession of long vocal showpieces.

Edwin Crossley-Mercer, Elizabeth DeShong and Mané Galoyan in the Prophet with the London Symphony Orchestra | Photo credit: Vincent Beaume

The three leads shine with passionate, virtuosic singing. All have superb voices, with Osborn and DeShong traversing multiple octaves and handling demanding coloratura passages with ease before crowning their scenes with thrilling high notes. DeShong’s stunning singing, very different from that of Marilyn Horne in her role in Henry Lewis’ 1976 recording (with Renata Scotto, James McCracken, Jerome Hines and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra), is equally thrilling. Galoyan, for her part, is extremely dramatic, convincing and hardly less virtuosic.

The singing is even more convincing if you ignore the absurdities of the plot, skip the ballets and concentrate on the vocal fireworks. On the other hand, given the absurdities that are currently accepted as truth, the story seems less absurd than prophetic. This justifies the opera’s title and makes this new recording a cause for celebration.