Actéon and Pygmalion: three transformations for the price of two from the AAM

“Transformations” was the theme of this concert, and of this new Academy of Ancient Music season. So two episodes from Ovid’s Metamorphoses made an ideal curtain-raiser. Marc-Antoine Charpentier’s Actéon (1684) and Jean-Philippe Rameau’s Pygmalion (1748) are from different generations of French Baroque opera, but still share its typical blend of poetic text, choral and solo singing, stage spectacle and dance, of which the last two played no part in a concert performance. What they have also in common was their chamber scale and brevity. Two 40-minute operas, with no diminution in the inspiration found in each composer’s full-scale operas. An introduction in 100 minutes to the sound and style of this distinctive national variant in the history of opera.

The transformation in Actéon is a tragic one. Actéon, Prince of Thebes, is hunting in the forest. Nearby, Diana, attended by her nymphs Daphne, Hyale and Arethusa, bathes naked in a forest spring. Actéon wanders away from his companions to rest by the spring, inadvertently sees Diana and her followers naked in the water – and they see him. Diana is enraged and punishes Actéon by transforming him into a stag. His own hounds catch and devour him. Juno descends from Olympus to explain this error, somewhat late.

Pygmalion was called by Rameau not an opera but an Acte de Ballet, and instrumental music (and thus the unseen dances) constitute the action as much as the text given to the singers. Pygmalion is a sculptor who has fallen in love with the female form he has carved (sitting on stage here at the outset). Céphise, who loves Pygmalion, asks the gods to cure him of his absurd passion. But Venus favours his prayer, and ivory becomes flesh. The Statue first asks “Where am I?”, but is soon filled with a rather pre-feminist love for Pygmalion (“My first desire is to please you. I shall always follow your rules.”). The Graces instruct the Statue in various dances. The people come to witness the transformation, singing and dancing as Pygmalion exalts the power of Love.

These short dramas were almost ideally presented, given there could be no sets or dancers. Milton Court has an attractive acoustic and is ideally proportioned for these works, with their four soloists, choir of four and 20 instrumentalists. The excellent surtitles (by Alistair Baumann) were projected in large attractive script onto the wall of the gallery, also noting scene changes, and even the dance being played (Chaconne, Sarabande etc.). Characters entered and exited rather than being parked behind music stands, and gestured with subtle dramatic effect.

The four soloists formed an even team, given several might never have sung their roles before. Soprano Anna Dennis led the way with her shining tone and gracious vocal manner as Diana and Daphne in Actéon, and the Statue in Pygmalion. Katie Bray was no less impressive as Juno and Hyale in the first opera and Céphise in the second, varying the colours of her mezzo-soprano for those varied characters. But of the women Rachel Redmond’s splendid soprano tones as Amor (Venus) in Pygmalion were heard to even greater effect as Arethusa in Actéon. Tenor Thomas Walker took the title role in each work, with very accomplished singing through the range up into the haute-contre head notes. There were a few moments of strain, but all seemed well managed by him.

The AAM were their ever-accomplished selves, savouring the dance numbers, metrically alert as in the repeated notes of the fast section of the Pygmalion overture. Laurence Cummings directed from the harpsichord with his usual unobtrusive manner and skill.

While Cummings conducted the penultimate dances, someone walked onstage, whispered in his ear, then left. Only Pygmalion’s hymn to love remained to be sung. But Walker did not reappear. Instead Cummings took up his score, turned to face the audience and sang the number himself, quite competently. Hence the final transformation of the evening; take a bow, Laurence Cummings: distinguished music director, celebrated harpsichordist... and now French Baroque tenor.