We’re fortunate to have recordings of both the original 1737 version of Rameau’s opera Castor et Pollux (with prologue) and the more often-performed 1754 version. Concentus Musicus Wien under Nikolaus Harnoncourt and Les Arts Florissants under William Christie chose the former, while the rather less well-subsidised English Bach Festival under Charles Farncombe (Erato, 2/83, 5/95 – nla) and now the Australian-based Pinchgut Opera under Antony Walker opted for the latter version. It’s also worth mentioning the chamber version (Rameau’s own arrangement) recorded by Musique des Lumières under Jean-Christophe Frisch (Auvidis Astrée, 7/98 – nla).

Stanley Sadie reviewed both the landmark CMW and EBF recordings in these pages. While praising the Farncombe interpretation, he thought it ‘perhaps a little too English, a little too sober and unaffected, and thus not quite catching the vein of originality, or eccentricity, that is part of Rameau’s musical personality’. While the EBF performed the 1754 version in London and Monaco, theirs was a studio recording (I should admit to having been a member of the orchestra), whereas Pinchgut Opera are recorded live, with the acoustical compromises that entails.

Pinchgut Opera, founded in 2002, nevertheless punches above its weight to judge by the palpable dramatic passion and pacing that characterise this performance (replete with occasional background stage noise and applause). Listening to these CDs is strangely akin to sitting in a seat with restricted view. Under Walker’s direction, the instrumental and choral contributions from the Orchestra of the Antipodes and Cantillation are richly varied and stylish. Listeners without scores will find it annoying that the tracks and titles of the instrumental dances were omitted from the booklet.

The vocal soloists are young but already experienced, though some are better French Baroque stylists. Anna Fraser contributes lovely cameos in Acts 2 and 4, and in the title-roles both Jeffrey Thompson and Hadleigh Adams project moments of genuine nobility, although the live performance drew a more emotionally volatile performance from Thompson than intended. Certainly an over-reliance on vibrato to project detracts from Margaret Plummer’s Phébé and Celeste Lazarenko’s Télaïre while, against a stirring orchestral backdrop, Pascal Herington’s Athlete struggles manfully with the melismas in the air that closes Act 2. Nevertheless, very enjoyable – and, unlike the EBF version, available on CD.