Commemorating the two-hundredth anniversary of her birth in 1821, ‘A Tribute to Pauline Viardot’ is a lovingly produced collaboration by mezzo-soprano Marina Viotti, conductor Christophe Rousset, and the period instrument group Les Talens Lyriques, with liner notes by Patrick Barbier.Footnote 1 The CD highlights operatic arias with which Viardot was closely associated, both on stage and in her less visible but equally important role as friend and promoter of young composers such as Gounod, Saint-Saëns, and Massenet.
Born into a family that produced two of the most renowned singers of the nineteenth century – her father, tenor Manuel Garcia, and sister, mezzo Maria Malibran – Viardot has recently garnered well-deserved attention from scholars and performers alike. Her artistic circle reads like a Who's Who, from the nine composers represented on Viotti's CD, discussed below, to Chopin, George Sand, Liszt, Meyerbeer, Clara Schumann, Tchaikovsky, Charles Dickens, and Ivan Turgenev. Sand summarized Viardot's breadth as ‘a divine singer and unrivaled woman with as many ideas as Rossini and as much knowledge as Meyerbeer’.Footnote 2 Adolphe Adam described her as one who, ‘sings in, and speaks five languages, who plays the piano like an angel, is as good a harmonist as anyone, who sings like her sister and who composes things that we would have been proud to have written’, while Liszt found that her compositions displayed ‘much skill in harmonic subtleties (which would be envied by many famous composers)’.Footnote 3
Thus, it is disappointing that this tribute CD does not include any of Viardot's work as composer. The 18 minutes spent on two overtures may have been better devoted to a few of Viardot's more than 100 songs – perhaps her well-known settings of Chopin's mazurkas, or an original one with a connection to a composer represented on the CD, such as En Mer (1850) dedicated to Berlioz.Footnote 4 This omission lends surely unintended support to the notion that women are still more acceptable as performers than as composers.Footnote 5 Likewise, the liner notes describe Viardot as Turgenev's ‘muse, his inspiration, his ideal woman’, but they do not mention his respect for her compositions. As Lubov Keefer reported, ‘Turgenev informed his translator Friedrich Bodenstedt that his “close friend” Pauline Viardot had marvelously set to music lines of Pushkin and Fet, expressing his confidence that this lover of Slavic poetry would do them justice’.Footnote 6
There is plenty to admire in Viardot's work as performer. Setting a high bar for singers, she was renowned for her three-octave range with a timbre that spanned soprano, mezzo, and alto. Her technique and interpretation were impeccable. As described by Musset, ‘She abandons herself to inspiration with an easy simplicity which lends everything an air of grandeur … She possesses that great secret of artists: before she sings anything, she feels it. She does not listen to her voice, but to her heart’.Footnote 7
The selections on the disc are well chosen in relation to Viardot's career, beginning with the role arguably most identified with the singer – Berlioz's 1859 arrangement of Gluck's Orphée, which was created with her in mind. According to Hilary Poriss, ‘Viardot's performance aided not only in canonizing Gluck's work but also in canonizing her own achievements as one of the nineteenth century's most important performers’.Footnote 8 It was staged at the Théâtre-Lyrique for five consecutive years, and Viardot performed the title role in most of its 138 performances. She chose it for her farewell performance there in 1863, and late in life articulated its special connection as the only role during which she never felt extraneous thoughts enter her mind during performance.Footnote 9 Viotti's recording of the recitative, ‘Qu'entends-je’, could have benefited from greater timbral variety (one of Viardot's hallmarks) in response to the emotional extremes of the title character. Coming into her own in the aria, ‘Amour, viens rendre à mon âme’, Viotti's coloratura captures the ease and agility of bel canto singing at its best, another Viardot hallmark. With its chromatic ascending and descending scales, the famously virtuosic cadenza is superbly executed here, though the tempo is on the slower side.
Romeo in Bellini's I Capuleti e i Montecchi is another trouser role of which Viardot was especially proud. Writing to Count Vielhorsky about her performances in 1848, Viardot suggests that even where critical reception of the opera might fall short, her standout performance as Romeo was recognized: ‘do you know that I Capuleti has been played, that the music has not been a great success, but that Romeo has been a real triumph?’Footnote 10 Bellini actually wrote the part for Giuditta Grisi, sister of Giulia Grisi, a rival of Viardot. That rivalry has been given nuance by Poriss, who quotes Viardot on Grisi having taught her ‘certain ornaments and cadenzas’.Footnote 11 In Viotti's rendition of ‘Se Romeo t'uccise un figlio’, one misses variety of tone, as in the repeated phrases at the end of the recitative. On the topic of nuanced repetition, Viardot herself was very clear. For example, in her edition of ‘J'ai perdu’ from Orphée, she specifies that although the three repetitions of the refrain are all sung mezzo forte, on the second time it ‘must be said with a very low, broken voice with continual sobs’ to ‘express the despondency of the pain’; while the third time should be ‘more animated with movement, stronger voice, more energy in expression, it is nothing but a long cry of despair’.Footnote 12 In the aria, ‘La tremenda ultrice spada’, Viotti's performance is stylistically very appealing, with wonderful lightness of fioritura. The cabaletta is not repeated, a missed opportunity especially since we do have access to Rossini's own ornamentation for it.Footnote 13 While a small chorus would be needed in order to make the connection to the return, it seems worth the effort.
Viotti shines in French repertoire. In Massenet's Marie-Magdeleine, she creates a beautiful line that is very responsive to text, as in the subtle contrast between the first ‘la douceur’ and the special tone at piu dolce for ‘la douceur infinie’ to evoke the two types of sweetness. Tonal subtlety is also lovely at ‘quel espoir nouveau, quel espoir me soutien’, though it would have been more helpful if the booklet provided a literal rather than a rhyming translation, as the reader will miss that subtlety when reading, ‘how I hope, though we're apart’ instead of ‘what new hope, what hope sustains me’. (Translation is an unfortunate issue throughout.) This selection is a good choice to showcase Viardot's importance to young composers: Massenet noted receiving praise ‘from his mentor, Ambroise Thomas, from Georges Bizet, and from Pauline Viardot, who encouraged its performance and also sang the title role at the oratorio's première in 1873’.Footnote 14 Likewise, Halévy greatly admired Viardot's performance in his La Juive, and Viotti's rendition of ‘Il va venir’ from that work lives up to her predecessor's reputation for inhabiting a role, as she conveys the fear and urgency of Rachel's words.
A family friend, Rossini occupied a crucial place for Viardot, whose first five operatic appearances from the time of her London debut in 1839 were all by the composer. Porris describes Rosina in Il Barbiere di Siviglia as not only one of the roles with the greatest success for the singer but also one of her favourites throughout her career, congenial to her vocal and acting abilities. As late as 1857, Viardot was clearly aware of how special this role was: ‘You know, it still takes me two or three evenings to grab my audience, except when I begin with my dear Barbiere’. Her report on her performances in Poland that year says it all:
8 call backs, 6 of which were at the end. Everything that I sang was literally covered with applause. Cavatina, Duet, every phrase. In the lesson scene … I sang the Mazurkas, and then to assassinate them, I threw Chopin's Hulanka at their faces. That sealed it. Encored, my knees are shaking from bowing so much. Certainly it must have lasted 10 minutes – men, women, everyone applauded, everyone shouted.Footnote 15
In Rosina's ‘Una voce poco fa’, Viotti makes judicious choices of ornamentation, and she achieves lightness and ease, with nice comic play. The orchestral woodwinds are exceptional here as well.
The CD offers balance with a serious Rossini role in Semiramide, but the full 12-minute overture occupies a lot of time on a disc dedicated to a singer, time that may have been better spent on original Viardot songs. The ensemble shines here, with its crisp period brass, contrast of mood in lyrical and rhythmic winds, and of course the trademark Rossini crescendos, which come off as intended, capturing the exciting accumulation of elements rather than a simple dynamic increase. The queen's Cavatina, ‘Bel raggio lusinghier’, seems an odd choice since Viardot was associated with the trouser role of Arsace. However, this cavatina is clearly in Viotti's wheelhouse, and she channels the essence of Viardot with nuanced shades of contrasting emotions and effortlessly spectacular coloratura singing.
Donizetti was director of Vienna's Kärnthnerthor Theatre, where he engaged Viardot to sing Rosina in Barbiere. A staunch advocate, he encouraged Leon Pillét, director of the Paris Opera, to do the same.Footnote 16 The seven roles that Viardot created in Donizetti's operas represent her greatest number by a single composer: Adina in L'elisir d'amore; the title roles in Alina, Lucia, and Maria di Rohan, Norina in Don Pasquale, Orsini in Lucrezia Borgia, and, as on this recording, Leonora in La favorite. This last is a wonderful choice, as listeners might be somewhat familiar with the rarely performed Italian version but are likely unaware of the original French one. In this scene, described by William Ashbrook as one of the great monologues of French opera, Leonore struggles with how to reveal to Fernand that she is the mistress of the King, and at what cost to them. Viotti ably showcases the range in which Viardot excelled, as in the descent of a twelfth to below the staff in one diminished arpeggio on ‘Oh! ce serait infâme!’ After capturing the contrasts in the recitative from fierce shame to soft contemplation, she sings the cantabile with beautiful sensitivity and line – especially notable out of the first section fermata and into ‘Si ta justice’ without a breath. In the recitative interruption, Viotti nails the stark emotional change, and she creates a towering build in the dramatic cabaletta.
Of all the selections, Les Troyens has the most complicated relationship to Viardot, with whom Berlioz spent time in Baden-Baden where they were preoccupied with his health concerns. She sang excerpts in 1859, and she transcribed the full work for piano. When in 1863 the Théâtre-Lyrique finally put on an abbreviated version (the last three acts), Berlioz did not give her the role of Cassandra or Dido, bemoaning her failure to ‘acknowledge the ravages of time’ on her voice. It was actually Princess Carolyne Sayn-Wittgenstein whose letters show evidence of editing the work and of keeping his spirits up, confirmed by Berlioz's reply articulating her ‘vibrations in tune with the distant echo of our work’.Footnote 17 Viotti achieves nice contrast on the words ‘if there is anything human left in his soul’ and ‘the futile prayer’ in the recitative, ‘Ah, Je vais mourir’; and beautifully long lines in the aria, ‘Adieu fière cité’.
The relationship between work and singer is again clear in Gounod's Sapho. For Melina Esse, ‘It is no exaggeration to say that Pauline Viardot's role in the composition of Charles Gounod's Sapho was fundamental to the work's very existence’.Footnote 18 Viardot introduced the neophyte opera composer to librettist Emile Augier and helped secure the Opéra première via her promise to perform the title role. The selection on the CD was crucial to the opera and to what Gounod saw as their collaboration on it, as he reported after she sang it for his family: ‘Huuuuuge success. They found the last number grippingly dramatic and were greatly moved by it. As was I. I can hardly wait to give you all of this: you for whom and a bit by whom I have made it’.Footnote 19 Esse finds it plausible, as others have suggested, that Viardot was instrumental in the decision to replace the original closing number with the composer's pre-existing La chanson du pêcheur. In a letter to Turgenev, Viardot clarifies her identification with this version: ‘the Lamento will be inserted – this has been decided – but only as a purely lyrical number: as the last song of Sapho. Her lyre in her hand, she will bid farewell to Phaon, to the sun, to her lyre, and finally to her life, and she will dive headfirst and drown herself in the tears that she has made the spectators shed’.Footnote 20 Viotti does not quite capture that emotionally charged character in the recitative and aria, ‘Où suis-je? Ô ma lyre immortelle’. This is a missed opportunity, as Gounod leaves the voice unencumbered by orchestra in the recitative. With no melisma writing, the aria should highlight expressive simplicity, but it, too, sounds monochromatic and with an undirected line, possibly hampered by a slow tempo for the marked Andante.
Viardot attempted to do for Saint-Saëns’ Samson et Dalila what she did for Gounod's Sapho, namely, use her influence to gain a première at the Paris Opera. But even her private performance with the composer at the piano did not make that happen. With Liszt's support it was finally premiered in Weimar in 1877, by which time it was too late for Viardot to play the role. Here Viotti does great justice to the recitative and aria, ‘Samson recherchant ma présence … Amour, viens aider ma faiblesse’, creating a lovely sense of line with nuanced sensitivity to the gamut of emotions that Dalila feels as she seeks the strength to carry out her plan. And the selection makes a strong and fitting conclusion to the CD, conveying the qualities that Viotti at her best shares with Viardot: long beautiful lines, superb execution as in the quick descending scale from G above the staff to B-flat below, and a pure sound on the final low A-flat.
Overall, there is much to be praised on this recording, which makes a valuable contribution to broadening awareness of Viardot's significance for nineteenth-century music. In so doing, Viotti has continued on a path forged early by Marilyn Horne, whose ‘Souvenir of a Golden Era: The Sisters Garcia’ of 1966 was re-released by Decca in 2008 (Decca 475 8493; disc one is dedicated to Maria, and two to Pauline).Footnote 21 And more recently, Cecelia Bartoli planned the 2020 Salzburg Whitsun Festival as an exploration of the life and work of Viardot, including some of her own compositions.Footnote 22 There are wonderful recordings of Viardot's songs for voice and piano,Footnote 23 but of course the operatic repertoire requires orchestral accompaniment, and here Viotti's choice of Christophe Rousset and Les Talens Lyriques is most felicitous. This is especially true in the selection from Les Troyens, where Rousset brings out the Weber-influenced contrasts and colours in the opening of the recitative, ‘ah, je vais mourir’, with its agitated, fortissimo introduction and sudden drop to pianissimo string tremolos that alternate with darkly expressive bass clarinet solos, giving way to the clarity of the well-blended wind choir. The aria, ‘Adieu fière cité’, enters in delicate dialogue with the clarinets, and the strings lend subtle responsiveness to the shifting harmonies of the closing section. Throughout the disc, her collaborators lend crucial support to Viotti's committed interpretation.
