The 18th century saw a fashion for operas on oriental subjects, often concerning a European woman being rescued by her lover from a fate worse than death in the harem of a sultan or pasha. ‘Le turc généreux’, one of the entrées in Rameau’s Les Indes galantes, is an early example (1735); the best known is Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail (1782). This charming recording affords us a glimpse into the world of odalisques and eunuchs, illustrated musically by a European version of ‘Janissary’ music, and supplemented in the booklet by equally delightful reproductions of ‘orientalist’ paintings – albeit from a century later.

Of the 17 tracks, eight are from operas by Grétry. The scene is set by the Overture to La caravane du Caire (1783), which begins with a stirring crescendo over a pedal-point (the ‘Mannheim steamroller’) and features an oboe solo in the middle section. There are two airs for a French slave-girl: in ‘Ne suis-je pas aussi captive?’ she says that she is cheerful because she is French. ‘Nous sommes nés pour l’esclavage’ ends with an extensive passage for the orchestra in triple time, presumably a dance. The airs from Zémire et Azor (1771) are well contrasted: ‘Rose chérie, aimable fleur’ is slow and gentle, with delicate flutes and harp, while ‘La fauvette’ pictures a warbler with her brood, confronted by a bird-catcher: a contrasting ‘B’ section, with a touch of Neapolitan harmony.

A dance from La caravane seamlessly follows the Overture to Gluck’s The Pilgrims from Mecca, or The Unexpected Meeting (1763). Later comes a short number for a servant-girl, with prominent horns, and an extended air for Princess Rezia, complete with cadenza. ‘Qu’il est doux de partager ses chaines’ is a duet for soprano and tenor in thirds and sixths. This finds an echo in ‘Meinetwegen sollst du sterben’ from Die Entführung, performed – as is Konstanze’s first aria – in a French translation from 1799. Philidor’s La belle esclave (1788) is a comedy, but the excerpt here is heartfelt, an accompanied recitative leading to an air which, like many of the numbers, is in ABA form.

There is no great music here, not even by Mozart, but it is all performed sensitively and fluently by Florie Valiquette, who made such a notable contribution to Christophe Rousset’s recording of Salieri’s Armida (Aparté, 3/21). The high-flying accuracy of Konstanze’s ‘Loin de l’objet’ (ie ‘Ach, ich liebte’) whets the appetite for a complete performance. Gaétan Jarry and the ‘brand-new’ Orchestre de l’Opéra Royal provide fine support. The booklet, handsome though it is, lets the side down. There is barely an acknowledgement of Nicholas Scott, the excellent tenor in the duets. The translation of the Mozart pieces was clearly made from the German, not the French. And I will mention just one of the bêtises in the translation of the articles. La caravane du Caire is not a ‘petulant’ farce: the French original must surely have been meant to read ‘pétillante’. But ‘sparkling’ is certainly an apt word for the whole disc.