It’s not the plot most people would choose for an opera to be performed at a royal wedding and, by all accounts, Rameau’s Platée didn’t go down too well with Louis XV. After a prologue relating “The birth of comedy”, Jupiter is hacked off at Juno’s perpetual jealousy, so a gang of the Thunderer’s acolytes hatch a plot: they will invite Juno to a fake wedding of Jupiter to the ugliest creature they can find, which turns out to be the swamp-nymph Platée. After many entanglements, Juno sees the error of her ways.
Improbable as the plot line may seem, Platée is a masterpiece of unashamed, over-the-top entertainment, which didn’t take long to capture the hearts of the Parisian public of the day. All the early opera standards are there (rage arias, laments, thunderstorms, dance numbers), but what makes the opera special is Rameau’s dazzling music, full of colour, full of orchestral effects and still with a big heart, as eloquent in eliciting sympathy for the characters as it is sharp-edged when poking fun at them.
At Garsington last night, Paul Agnew and The English Concert gave us a Rameau masterclass. Agnew’s style on the podium is likeable, uncomplicated and precise, which translated into music played with the utmost clarity and vitality. The string playing was gloriously together, navigating the twists and turns of the score with aplomb. Woodwind instruments added delicious colour; a solitary tambourine marked many of the dance rhythms with period flair.
On several occasions, however, the orchestra were put at something of a disadvantage by the frantic pace of Louisa Muller’s staging. Muller was quite effective at creating comic mayhem, with dozens of chorus members and dancers zooming around at high speed, which was fine in itself but could become distracting. It made a bad impression in the overture, where the stage movement seemed to be making a deliberate effort to distract us from what was some truly wonderful playing.
Muller puts us on the set of a reality TV show (Baroque opera meets The Kardashians), with more gold lamé costumes, bouffant hair and fake tans than is good for anyone’s health. Jupiter is a narcissist to the max, flanked by a pair Ray-Ban wearing heavies, the Naiads are bathing beauties lounging around the swimming pool. Video screens display both technical video production stuff and the tackiest of tacky CGI of the gods in golden chariots. The idea is bright, breezy and fun, and it provides a good fit to the story as well as plenty of opportunity for visual gags, which come thick and fast.