Reactions to this recording will not be lukewarm. Those who prefer a symphonic approach to Pelleas et Melisande, in which the voices are used in an almost instrumental, other-worldly way, are likely to be offended by the red-blooded emotion. In the opening scene, the tension and passion suggested by Victoria de los Angeles and Gerard Souzay is compelling. Phrase after phrase emerges in their incisive and extraordinarily subtle diction, presenting both characters in three dimensions. Not for the first time, I felt the opera should be re-titled 'Golaud et Melisande'.
Cluytens's reading was well known in Paris – he was Music Director at the Opera-Comique in 1949, when Pelleas was given a new production designed by Valentine Hugo, in which Jacques Jansen was Pelleas. For many years, Jansen was the admired interpreter of the role, and so the obvious comparison among historic recordings is the 1941 Desormiere version in which Jansen is partnered by the Melisande of Irene Joachim (EMI, 8/88 – nla). But the comparison is extreme – the two recordings represent opposite approaches. Desormiere's is so airy, with such shimmering sound, and Jansen responds with the most youthful, quicksilver Pelleas. Fifteen years later his voice, although it has not exactly darkened, sounds much more masculine. (Should there be a slightly androgynous quality about Pelleas? Debussy discussed the idea of casting the role for a soprano. ) How many years, one wonders, between this Pelleas and his half-brother? – not so many.
Pelleas comes closer to Tristan in Cluytens's interpretation and the depths of tragedy in los Angeles's voice aids this view. She suggests Melisande's strength, as well as her fragility; she is, after all, a survivor when we first see her – fleeing from Bluebeard's castle. Although she never sang the role on stage in France, Melisande was one of los Angeles's favourite parts – the one with which she chose to say farewell to the stage in Barcelona in 1980. She brings all her musicianly skill and the talents of a great concert recitalist to the enunciation of the text, and sings without any hint of preciousness.
In an interview with Hannah Kroop printed in the excellent booklet, Souzay reveals that his parents met each other for the first time at the premiere of Pelleas in 1902. His career on the opera stage was slight compared with his long devotion to the melodie and the Lied, but he makes a wonderfully sympathetic Golaud, less forbidding than some; when at the end of the first scene he sings ''Je suis perdu aussi'' we realize that in this triangle, in some ways Golaud is the weak one, the loser.
Neither Jeannine Collard nor Pierre Froumenty as Genevieve and Arkel presents such an arresting interpretation, though all the voices in this transfer are remarkably forward, and for a mono recording the orchestral sound is vivid. My only quibble is a rather awful echo-chamber effect in the castle vault scene in Act 2, otherwise this 39-year-old recording stands firm as a superb performance.
There is strong competition for a historic Pelleas et Melisande on CD, what with the Desormiere, the 1953 Fournet (Philips, 4/93) and the first Ansermet (1952: Decca, 4/93) all having been reissued, not to mention the 1962 Inghelbrecht on Montaigne (8/88) and an 'unofficial' Karajan (from La Scala, with Schwarzkopf). The Desormiere is always going to occupy a very special niche of its own, but this recording – above all in the performances of Souzay and los Angeles – is a remarkable achievement. R1 '9506141'