The choice of French operas in the Palazzetto Bru Zane’s ‘Book+CD Series’ is wonderfully unpredictable. After Offenbach’s Maître Péronilla, praised by Richard Bratby in May, comes this three-act tragédie lyrique based on the eponymous play by Racine. It was the first libretto written by François-Benoît Hoffman, who went on to collaborate with a number of other composers: the operas are quite forgotten, save for Cherubini’s Médée. The part of Phaedra was composed for the leading soprano – more of a mezzo, it seems – at the Paris Opéra. Mme Saint-Huberty led a colourful life: suffice it to say that by 1812 she and her royalist second husband were living by the Thames at Barnes, where they were murdered by a servant who then killed himself. A house in the same row – The Terrace – was later the home of Gustav Holst.

Phèdre was the second tragedy to be composed by Jean-Baptiste Lemoyne. First performed at Fontainebleau on October 26, 1786, followed by performances at the Opéra, it was highly successful. According to Benoît Dratwicki’s invaluable article, it was staged every year up to 1792. After seven performances in 1795/96 and two in 1813 it disappeared until September 2019, when this recording was made in Budapest.

The obvious operatic comparison would seem to be Rameau’s Hippolyte et Aricie, which covers the same ground. But there’s no Aricia and no appearance of Theseus in the Underworld. The former is no great loss, but the absence of the latter scene (admittedly not to be found in Racine) makes Theseus’s entrance at the end of Act 2 dangerously late in the drama. And Act 1 takes a long time to get going, with its hymns and prayers to the goddesses Diana and Venus. This was noted by critics at the time, and – surprisingly – Hoffman and Lemoyne immediately made cuts. Bru Zane gives us the complete work, however, and it makes for enjoyable listening.

Actually it’s to Gluck, not Rameau, that one should look for a connection. Whether or not it’s true, as a review of Lemoyne’s previous opera Électre claimed, that Gluck refused to acknowledge the younger man as his disciple, there can be no doubt about his influence. Phèdre is pervaded with what you might call a noble simplicity; and if Lemoyne can’t match Gluck for memorable tunes, he certainly has a gift for intense, declamatory recitative. Other memorable touches include the unexpectedly quiet endings to the first and last acts and the splendour of his orchestration: time and again the trombones add richness and depth to the texture.

Mme Saint-Huberty had sung the part of Hypermnestra in Les Danaïdes; five weeks after Phèdre she was Camilla in another Salieri premiere, Les Horaces. Judith van Wanroij has recorded both roles (Ediciones Singulares, 8/15; Aparté, 11/18), so her casting as Phaedra is entirely appropriate. At one point she even emulates her predecessor by shouting rather than singing. But that was a sign of the deterioration of Mme Saint-Huberty’s voice: Wanroij has no such problems. The passion that she brings to the scene where Phaedra confesses her love to her stepson Hippolytus is as striking as the low-pitched sadness of ‘Il ne m’est plus permis de vivre’ near the end.

In the absence of Aricia, there is no opportunity for a love scene, but Hippolytus expresses his love for his father in an air that could have been written for Gluck’s Admetus or Pylades. Julien Behr sings it with great tenderness, as he does the prayer to Diana at the start of the opera. Tassis Christoyannis could have made a stronger impression with ‘De cent brigands j’ai purgé l’univers’ at Theseus’s entrance, an air that alternates triumph with his pleasure at returning home. But the ‘Invocation’ when Theseus begs his father Neptune to punish his supposedly incestuous son is thrilling, the vocal line supported by the splendidly rasping trombones.

The other parts are well taken, the most prominent being Oenone, Phaedra’s confidante; and György Vashegyi’s conducting of the Purcell Choir and Orfeo Orchestra is as gripping and stylish as ever. The illustrations include two portraits of Mme Saint-Huberty and two of Gluck but none, sadly, of Lemoyne himself.