William Christie’s recording of this opera was of Rameau’s original version, which in 1737 met with a somewhat muted reception owing to the opposition of dyed-in-the-wool followers of Lully: for the revised 1754 score (which discarded the beautiful but no longer fashionable or pertinent prologue, introduced a new Act 1 and generally tautened the dramatic structure), which proved an immediate and lasting triumph, we have relied on Charles Farncombe’s 1982 recording – from which this new arrival differs radically. In this chamber version (which the composer intended merely for private performances in salons, not the theatre) Rameau’s colourful orchestral writing is thinned out to six instruments – two violins, cello, flute, oboe and bassoon, plus harpsichord, an ensemble which throws greater emphasis on the wind than in the orchestral version; and choruses are reduced to an assemblage of the soloists (thin and ill-balanced here in the Spartans’ “Chantons l’eclatante victoire”). This may be all very well for whetting the appetite of provincial audiences for opera (the aim of the organization backing this project), but since this is clearly a pis aller rather than the real thing, I am rather surprised at its being recorded.
Within its limitations, however, it is quite well done. The instrumentalists are excellent, playing the numerous dances with crisp rhythmicality, even virtuosity; and the sudden irruption of war at the end of Act 1 is handled with a sure sense of drama. Overall there are problems with uneven voice levels, presumably due to the recording being made during public perfomances: for example, Philippe Cantor as the High Priest is far too loud (as he also was, incidentally, in the Serva padrona on Pierre Verany, 4/96), and some of the women’s lines take on an unwelcome harshness. In Cantor’s other personification as Jupiter (for which he has to make an unconvincing sudden switch) his intonation is not always true. Of the three principals (the eponymous half-brothers and Telaire, whom they both love) the lyric tenor Christophe Einhorn in the role of Castor comes over best, with brilliance in his Act 1 “Quel bonheur regne dans mon ame”, calm poise in the Act 4 “Sejour de l’eternelle paix”, and sheer terror in Act 5 when his beloved swoons away at the thought of losing him again. Cyrille Gerstenhaber is affecting in her great Act 2 lament “Tristes apprets”, but elsewhere is not a match for Jennifer Smith in the Farncombe set; and the reliable Jerome Correas (who was the Pollux on Christie’s recording too) might well have introduced more nuance into his performance. The work is performed, by the way, at the low pitch of A=392.'