Introduction
John S. Powell
In
their attempts to resurrect the legendary powers of music and antique drama,
the earliest opera composers were drawn naturally to the myth of Orpheus. Not only is it a moving love story, but its
protagonist is a legendary singer who uses the power of song to sway the hearts
of the gods. The myth of Orpheus divides
into three parts: the wedding of Orpheus
and Eurydice, which is thwarted when the bride is bitten by a serpent; Orpheus’s journey to the Underworld, where he
successfully persuades Pluto and Persephone to allow Eurydice to return—only to
lose her when, against Pluto’s warning, he turns to see if she is following him;
and (the part rarely set by opera composers), Orpheus lamentation of his fate
and his death at the hands of the Bacchantes.
Unlike
Italy, where the earliest surviving operas were based on the Orpheus myth, in
France the same myth became the inspiration for a number of pastoral plays with
machine effects and incidental music.
Orpheus makes his first appearance in Nicolas de Montreux's
pastoral drama L'Arimène, ou le Berger desespere (1597), within the context of a short
mythological interlude performed before the final act.[1] The first play-length dramatization of the
legend in France, however, was Charles de l'Espine's La Descente d'Orphee
aux enfers (1614)[2],
republished eight years later with the more descriptive title Le Mariage d'Orphée, sa descente
aux Enfers, sa Mort par les
Bacchantes.[3] Each of the three parts of the legend is
built around spectacular tableaux involving exotic settings, machine effects,
and music.
Chapoton's tragedy La Descente d'Orphée aux enfers (1639) ushered in the golden age of
the French pièce en machines. This work featured a sensational enfer scene—antedating
by eight years the famous one created by Giacomo Torelli for Luigi Rossi's Orfeo (1647). This
Roman opera inspired the famed Théâtre du Marais to revive Chapoton’s play the following year with a new title—La Grande journée
des machines, ou le Mariage
d'Orphée et d'Euridice—and
with added music (by Dassoucy) and machine effects (trumpeted
in the libretto as 'the most beautiful and extraordinary that the technology of
centuries present and past could invent') by the French stage designer Denis Buffequin.2
Two
Orpheus projects proposed for the French court came to naught. Following the successful court performances
of Rossi’s Orfeo,
Pierre Corneille began work on his own French
adaptation of this work. According to Dubuisson-Aubenay (writing at the end of January 1648),
“the play of Orpheus and Eurydice, which played at the Palais-Royal
this past winter with machines, was translated into French [se fait françoise]
by sieur Corneille, for
which he has received a 2,400 livres advance, and Torelli,
conductor of the machines, between 13,000 and 14,000 livres to restore them in order.”[4] The unexpected illness of the king caused all
plans to be set aside…” Corneille would later introduce Orpheus as a minor
character in La Toison
d'or (1660), composed to celebrate the wedding of
Louis XIV. Orpheus invokes Juno in song
in Act I and urges on the winged Argonauts in their battle with Medea's dragon in Act V.
A
decade later, Jean Racine proposed another Orpheus project for Carnival of
1671. According to Lagrange-Chancel,
Colbert solicited proposals from the leading playwrights of the day:
Until
Charpentier’s time, the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice had
never been the subject of a French opera—although around 1683, Charpentier himself had composed a small chamber cantata on
the Orpheus legend. Orphée descendant aux enfers is a work for
three male singers and a small chamber ensemble, and has the character of a
scene from an opera. Its action is
restricted to Orpheus’s encounter with two shades of the Underworld, Ixion and Tantalus; undoubtedly it served as inspiration
for Act II of La Descente d’Orphée aux enfers.
Approximately
three years later (in late 1686 or early 1687, according to Wiley Hitchcock’s
catalogue), Charpentier embarked on a full-scale
operatic setting of the legend. The
librettist of La Descente d’Orphée aux enfers is
unknown, but the literary source is the Metamorphoses
of Ovid (Book X), which tells the tale of Orpheus and his bride Eurydice, who
is mortally bitten by a serpent on their wedding day. In the
tradition of the mythological pastorale, the
librettist add some nymphs and shepherds.
At the end of Act I, Apollo, Orpheus’s father (his mother was the muse
Calliope), appears and advises Orpheus to go to Hades and persuade Pluto to
allow Eurydice to return to the upper world.
Act II takes place in the underworld, where all of the opera’s
characters derive from Ovid. There are
the “ombres coupables” on
display at Tartarus—Tantalus,[6]
Ixion,[7]
and Tityus[8]—as
well as a chorus of Furies, all brought to tears by the beauty of Orpheus’s
singing.
At
first, Pluto remains unmoved by Orpheus’s argument (as related by Ovid) that both
Eurydice and Orpheus must eventually return to Hades, and so Pluto can surely afford
to return Eurydice to him temporarily. Finally,
when Persephone intercedes and her plea is seconded by a group of shades, Pluto
gives in and grants his permission for Eurydice to return—provided that Orpheus
not look back to ensure that she is following.
Charpentier’s autographs manuscript score ends at this point of the drama. Whether the composer intended for or ever
composed a third act remains unknown. The manuscript does not carry the composer’s
usual measure count on the final folio; nor does it state something final, but
rather the laconic indication “fin du s[econ]d acte”. In short,
there are none of Charpentier’ usual indications that
a major work has come to an end. (By
contrast, the composer writes at the conclusion of his cantata Orphée descendant aux enfers
the indication “fin” and he provides a measure count.) Moreover, the libretto is unique in that in
breaks off in the middle of the second part of the tripartite Orpheus myth, and
before the catastrophe and dénouement of the second part that 17th-century
audiences would have come to expect.
Although
we know virtually nothing about the circumstances of its first performance, it
is clear that Charpentier composed La Descente d’Orphée
aux enfers for the musicians of Mlle de Guis (as will be demonstrated further on). Moreover, the rubrics related to the mise-en-scène prove that this chamber opera was
given a fully-staged performance, complete with ballet. At the end of Apollo’s appearance in Act 1, Charpentier writes “Apollon poursuit sa carrière”
below a 7- measure instrumental postlude.
Apollo, a symbol associated with Mlle de Guise’s cousin, Louis XIV, most
often appeared in his flying chariot, which brings the dawn of each new day to
the world; therefore, we might speculate whether some chariot machine might
have been used in the first performance.
The question then arises: where might this opera have been first
performed? Its small scale and the
doubling of roles (with the soloists serving as choral singers) suggest that it
was given a private, rather than a public performance. Two likely venues would have been the private
quarters of Mlle de Guise in the Hôtel de Guise in
the Marais quarter of
La Descente d’Orphée aux enfers drew
upon the entire musical establishment of Mlle de Guise, along with some extra
instrumentalists. In his autograph manuscript
Charpentier assigns the vocal solo and choral parts
to Mlles “Guy”, “Bri”, “Tal”,
“Isa”, “GrM”, and to Mrs “Anth”, “Charp”, “Boss”, “Beaup”, and
“Carl”. Patricia Ranum
has identified these as the following singers who served on Mlle de Guise’s
domestic staff:[9]
Charpentier’s three-part orchestration offer
no indications with regard to instrumentation in the first act, and we might
presume a trio of violins. However, Charpentier’s instrumental indications become more specific
in the second act, where Orpheus meets up with the inhabitants of the
underworld. Here, the music of viols (
“avec sourdines” in the first air of Act 2) accompanies
Orpheus’s affectively persuasive singing.
The music of the inhabitants of the Underworld, may have been portrayed
by a change of instrumental timbre. Charpentier’s score lists two instrumentalists, “Anth” and “Pierrot”, to accompany
the music of Pluto, the Chorus of Furies, and the Chorus of Happy Shades, Criminals, and Furies. These names
may well refer to the flute-playing brothers Antoine Pièche
and Pierre (“le cadet”) Pièche, both of whom held
court positions in the Musique de la Chambre. Patricia Ranum also
identified the name “Loulié” next to an instrumental dessus part for
Pluto’s air “Je cède,
je me rends, aymable
Proserpine” (and partly hidden by the binding).[10] Ranum believes
that this was undoubtedly the theorist Étienne Loulié, “interprétant un passage où les nombreuses notes
diésées sonneraient mieux sur la flûte allemande que sur la flûte douce. » If
this is correct, then we might presume that the composer wished the music of
the Underworld to have been represented by the timbre of woodwinds—most likely
recorders and transverse flute. As a
side note, Charpentier scored the cantata Orphée descendant aux enfers
(which takes place wholly in the Underworld) for an ensemble of flûte à bec (recorder), flûte allemande
(transverse flute), strings and harpsichord—with Orpheus playing an
instrumental récit
on the violin.[11]
The
limited resources of Mlle de Guise’s establishment required the vocal soloists to
serve double-duty as choral singers in the various “choeurs”
that appear in the opera. In the first
act there is a high-voiced “Choeur de Nymphes” and a mixed-voice “Choeur
de Nymphes et de Bergers”. In the second act, there is an infernal “Choeur de Furies” and a smaller “Choeur
d’Ombres heureuses, de coupables, et de Furies”.
Moreover, the singers may also have participated as dancers for the
brief ballet entrées in both acts.
In
a little musical treatise (Règles de composition)
drawn up by Charpentier in the 1690s, the composer
provided a very useful list of the “énergie des
modes”, the affective associations of various keys. In sum, they are C-major (“gai et
guerrier”), C-minor (“obscure et triste”), D-major (“joyeux et très guerrier”), D-minor
(“Grave et dévot”), E-major (“querelleux et criard”),
E-minor (“efféminé, amoureux et plaintif”), Eb-major (“cruel et dur”), Eb-minor
(“horrible, affreux”), F-major (“furieux et
emporté”), F-minor (“obscure et plaintif”), G-major (“doucement joyeux”), G-minor
(“sérieux et magnifique”), A-major (“joyeux et
champêtre”), A-minor (“tendre et plaintif”), Bb-major (“magnifique et joyeux”), Bb-minor
(“obscure et terrible”), B-major (“dur et plaintif”),
B-minor (“solitaire et mélancolique”). Since
the tale of Orpheus has as its theme the power of music, it would be
instructive to see to what extent Charpentier puts
his own observations into practice.
The
movements that he composed in the “joyeux et champêtre” key of A-major include the Overture and all of
Act I, sc. 1. When Euridice
is bitten by a snake, the key suddenly shifts to the “tender et plaintif” key of A-minor and the notation changes to croches blanches (void quarter-, eighth-, and
sixteenth-notes). Orpheus’s lamento and the chorus’s continuation proceeds this key and
idiosyncratic notation, and leads to a choreographic depiction of grief (“Entrée
de nimphes et de bergers désespérés”) and Orpheus’s resolution to follow her in
death. Apollo, Orpheus’s father, then appears
to the “gai et guerrier”
key of C-major, and he succeeds in arguing Orpheus out of suicide and into a
determination to gain back Eurydice. The
act ends with a choral meditation “tender et plaintif”
key of A-minor on the events that have just taken place, and a final performance
of the “Entrée de nimphes et de bergers
désespérés”.
The second act opens in the Underworld (evidently after
Orpheus had encountered the ferryman Charon and the
50-headed dog Cerberus), to the F-major (“furieux et emporté”) complaints of the shades Ixion,
Tantalus, and Tityus.
Orpheus arrives in sc. 2 and sings of his pain—greater still than theirs—in
the same key and mood, but his music is accompanied by the enchanting sonority
of muted viols. The trio of criminals become
completely beguiled, and they momentarily forget their torments as their music
shifts to the key of Bb-major (“magnifique et joyeux”). Orpheus
finds encouragement in this, and as his music moves to C-major (“gai et guerrier”) he announces his plan to try to assuage the
heart of Pluto. The Furies too are
brought to tears by the charms of his music as they return to the “furieux et emporté” key of F-major,
and the scene concludes with an F-major Dance of Phantoms.
Scene 3 takes place in Pluto’s palace, where the King of
Hades greets Orpheus with a dour D-minor warning (“Grave et dévot”). Orpheus (accompanied by viols) assures Pluto
that he intends no harm—that he comes only to find his beloved Euridice—and his music changes to croches blanches with his first appeal.
Persephone is touched, and her music in croches blanches (and that of the Happy Shades, Furies, and Criminals, all
accompanied by flutes) moves through F-major (“furieux
et emporté”) before
settling back into D-minor Pluto
responds to her in D-minor (in croches blanches
and accompanied by flutes) that fate decrees that the shades remain in the
Underworld, but Persephone and the chorus implore him (in “joyeux
et champêtre” A-major) to allow Euridice
to finish out her days on earth before fate cuts the thread of her life.
Orpheus
continues his appeal to Pluto in G-minor (“sérieux et
magnifique”)
by saying that, after all, both Eurydice and Orpheus must eventually
return to Hades and thus, surely, Pluto can afford to make a temporary loan of
Eurydice. His music (accompanied by
viols and notated in croches blanches) then returns to D-minor (“Grave
et dévot”) for what now becomes a haunting refrain : “Ah ! ah! Laisse-toi toucher à ma
douleur extrème, Rends-moi, Dieu des Enfers, cette
rare beauté ; Le jour m’est odieux sans la nymphe que j’aime :
Redonne-lui la vie ou m’ôte la clarté”.
Pluto (in his uncharacteristically “magnifique et joyeux” key of Bb-major)
remarks that he is enchanted by Orpheus’s singing, and reproaches himself for
weakness in being touched by Orpheus’s pleas.
Persephone continues to appeal on behalf of Orpheus (in F-major, “furieux et emporté”), and is
seconded by the Happy Shades, Furies, and Criminals with music that moves
through G-minor (“sérieux et magnifique”),
A-minor (“tendre et plaintif”),
and optimistically ends in D-major (“joyeux et très guerrier”). Orpheus then continues his appeal in G-major
(“doucement joyeux”) by
reminding Pluto how he once stole Persephone from Ceres when he too was wounded
by Cupid’s dart; does Pluto still not feel, he asks in “tendre
et plaintif” A-minor, the love he once had for
Persephone? And, if so, will Pluto not
by moved by his extreme anguish, Orpheus asks—concluding with his persuasively
voluptuous refrain in D-minor (“Grave et dévot”).
Pluto capitulates in D-major (“joyeux
et très guerrier”), saying
that he no longer feels any harshness, owing to the effect of her divine beauty
(momentary shift to E-minor, “efféminé, amoureux et plaintif”) on his
heart. The possible addition of
transverse flute at this point (as performed by “Loulié—see
above) accompanies Pluto’s command to return Orpheus and Eurydice to the
brightness of day (B-major “dur et plaintif”, A-major “joyeux et champêtre”, and G-major “doucement
joyeux”). But,
he warns (with an abrupt shift of key to C-major), do not turn to look at her
until he has departed from Hades, or else Pluto will reclaim her for a second
death. Pluto’s “joyeux
et très guerrier” key of D-major
suggests that he does not expect to see Eurydice soon—which lends support to
the argument that Charpentier indeed intended for his
opera to end at this point.
Orpheus’s final couplet praise the power of love in the “joyeux et champêtre” key of A-major,
and conclude with the prophetic remark that “Ah! Que le tendre Orphée à
lui-même est à craindre”. With the departure of Orpheus and Eurydice, the
trio of « coupables » and the « Chœur d’ombres heureuses et de Furies » are left behind to lament the
loss of his captivating voice in croches blanches. But the sweet memory of this enchanting experience
is depicted by the bright keys of D-major (“joyeux et
très guerrier”) and A-major (“joyeux
et champêtre”), and by the final “Sarabande
légère” for Phantoms in the joyful key of D-major.
[1] L'Arimène
ou Berger desespère, pastorale. Par Ollenix du Mont-Sacré Gentil-homme du Maine (Paris: Abraham Saugrain & Guillaume des Rues, 1597). In addition to this edition, another was published in
[2] La Descente d'Orphee aux Enfers. Par C. de L., Parisien (Louvain: Philippe Dormalis, 1614).
[3] Le Mariage d'Orphée, sa
descente aux Enfers, sa Mort par les Bacchantes. Tragedie
et autres oeuvres Poëtiques du sieur de L'Espine, Parisien (Paris: Henry Sara, 1622; Turin: U. Meruli, 1627).
[4] François
Nicolas Baudot, seigneur du Buisson et Aubenay, Journal des Guerres Civiles 1648-1652, ed. Gustave Saige, 2 vols. (
[5] François-Joseph de Lagrange, seigneur
de Chancel, preface to Orphée, in Œuvres 5 vols.
(Paris: Libraires associés, 1758), IV:63; quoted in
Couvreur, Jean-Baptiste Lully, 218.
[6] Tantalus
was the son of Zeus and was the king of Sipylos. He
was uniquely favored among mortals since he was invited to share the food of
the gods. However, he abused the guest-host relationship and was punished by
being "tantalized" with hunger and thirst in Tartarus:
he was immersed up to his neck in water, but when he bent to drink, it all
drained away; luscious fruit hung on trees above him, but when he reached for
it the winds blew the branches beyond his reach.
[7] Though little information survives
about him, Ixion is a fundamental character in Greek
mythology. The most complete account of Ixion's tale
comes from Pindar in his Pythian
Odes. Ixion was the son the Phlegyas,
descendent of Ares, and king of the Lapiths in
Because this was a crime new to the human
race, nobody could purify Ixion and he wandered an
exile. Zeus took pity on him and decided not only to purify Ixion,
but to invite him to
To punish him, Zeus bound Ixion to a winged (sometimes flaming) wheel, which revolved in the air in all directions. Also, by order of the gods, Ixion was forced to call out continuously call out: "You should show gratitude to your benefactor." Ixion became one of the more famous sinners on display on Tartarus, and most writers mention him when describing the place. For example, Ovid wrote of him, and Vergil, with his moralistic interpretation of how sin should be punished, awards Ixion a special mention in the Aenead.
[8] A giant, Tityus
was the son of Zeus and Elara (or of Gaia and
Uranus). Zeus kept his affair secret from Hera by
hiding his consort in a cave, where Tityus was born.
In honor of Elara, a cave in
[9] See Table 1 of "A sweet servitude: A musician's life at
the Court of Mlle de Guise," Early
Music, August 1987, 351. See also Ranum’s later “musings” on the subject of the Guise
musicians in her website (http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/PRanum/musicians.html).
[10] “Étienne Loulié (1654-1702): Musicien de
Mademoiselle de Guise, Pédagogue et Théoricien » Recherches sur la musique française classique XXV, 38.
[11] See my edition of this cantata in Marc-Antoine Charpentier: Vocal Chamber Works (Madison: A-R Editions, Inc., 1986)