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Berlioz: The Damnation of Faust: Ruxandra Donose (mezzo soprano – Margarite), Jean-Pierre Furlan (tenor - Faust), Nicholas Cavallier (baritone – Mephistopheles), Jonathan Lemalu (bass-baritone – Brander), City of Birmingham Symphny Chorus and Orchestra, Ludovic Morlot, Birmingham Symphony Hall 12.3.2009 (GR)


In 1828, one course during mealtimes for Hector Berlioz meant a helping of Nerval’s translation of Goethe’s Faust. His appetite for the text was insatiable and inspired by the poet’s restless human quest for self-fulfilment dashed off a set of Eight Scenes from Faust, said by Ernest Newman to be ‘the most outstanding Opus 1 that the world of music has ever known’. Berlioz sent them to his idol, but true to form, Goethe failed to acknowledge the gift; it was left to Zelter to comment that it was a ‘series of grunts, snorts and expectorations’. What did Mendelssohn’s tutor know? It was the final and fuller 1846 légende dramatique that was, of course, performed here in Birmingham, and it was a performance from the CBSO and the distinguished soloists that was distinctly digestible. 

La Damnation de Faust opens with our hero (?) alone on the plains of Hungary extolling the doux de vivre. Jean-Pierre Furlan as Faust did not seem relaxed with his own company or delighted that spring was awakening; this impression was left to the bird-trills of the woodwind. The distant rallying sounds of an army were easily over-shadowed by the joyous mood of the Peasants’ Round-Dance, the augmented City of Birmingham Symphony Chorus in sparkling form, with a truly rollicking Ha! Ha! from the men’s section. But the strains of war failed to disperse and Ludovic Morlot – a pocket dynamo of a conductor – marshalled his orchestral troops for the popular Hungarian March to close Part One. 

Having returned home to his books, the learned doctor was no longer happy with his lot, a mood sonorously conveyed by the cellos. Although I did not initially detect much colour variation in the delivery of Furlan’s Sans regrets from his opening number, the inner turmoil surfaced at Mais je tremble and again as he took up le poison. The choral Easter Hymn of the Christians saved him; the darkness of the tomb was there, a moving contrast to the triumphant Hosanna! As Faust acknowledged heaven had won him back, I sensed no suave accords from Furlan and at the climactic retentissez encore his voice was strained by the high tessitura. A rat-a-tat motive from the brass introduced Mephistopheles and the flowing grey locks of Nicholas Cavallier; he immediately made a favourable impression, in command of the platform and so animated when compared to Furlan. The pleasures of life that Cavallier promised seemed to inspire Furlan and their O Pure emotion exchange was engaging. As the personification of the devil introduced Faust to the revelries of drink, the benefit of the male augmentation from the Philharmonia Chorus was revealed by the sheer force of the tenor and bass voices in A boire encore. Bass-baritone Jonathan Lemalu as Brander responded well to maintain the merrymaking with his Certain rat song (but has he improved since winning the Royal Philharmonic Society’s Award for Young Artist of the Year in 2002?). The fugal Amen displayed the required bestiality. Lemalu’s party-piece was certainly outshone by Cavallier’s flamboyant Song of the Flee, sandwiched as it was between an arresting string introduction and the peaceful atmosphere on the banks of the Elbe; Morlot efficiently shepherded the CBSO through the changes in tempo. Mephistopheles further relaxed Faust (and the audience) with a dreamy Voice des roses, a mood of sleep encouraged by the Spirits and the ladies of the chorus. As Mephistopheles promised Margarite to Faust, Cavallier showed what a believable rogue his character could be. A poignant end to the dream sequence gave way to another charming tune from Berlioz, the Dance of the Sylphs, the delicate violins, violas, flutes and harps well to the fore. Part Two closed with two more rousing choruses. Why were there no subtitles when the students sang in Latin? 

After the Retreat (in both senses) I thought Furlan began Faust’s Air of Part Three in fine style, his best contribution to the evening, as enchanting as his vision of Margarite. In her initial short recitative, Ruxandra Donose as Margarite conveyed her confused emotions well – both anguish and anticipation. A haunting motive on the viola introduced Margarite’s King of Thulé, this sad song another highlight, so evenly and beautifully sung over its wide range by Donose. Cavallier then commanded the Will o’ the Wisps for an exhilarating Minuet. Morlot’s direction ensured an engaging conversation between strings and brass, some very sprightly upper woodwinds and exploding crescendos. Mephistopheles’ Serenade demonstrated the superb diction of Cavallier while keeping pace with the pizzicato strings. I was somewhat disappointed with the love duet of Margarite and Faust; for instance when Donose passionately pleaded Je ne sais quelle ivresse, Furlan’s Cède a l’ardente ivresse was so bland in voice and body language. When Mephistopheles makes it a trio and the Neighbours joined in, the music and action became truly dramatique, a dynamic and effective closing of Part Three.

Margarite’s Romance was the most satisfying part of my whole evening. As the haunting tone of the cor anglais floated around the Symphony Hall, Donose empathised with the mood to express her grief at Faust’s departure. Here indeed was l’ardente flamme and the caresses de flamme missing from the duet. Ecstatic and not a cough or shuffle to be heard! The sound of the bass drum and brass that told of distant soldiers broke the tension, but only made things worse for Margarite: Hélas! Hélas! her beloved would not return. The joint libretto of Nerval, Gandonnière and Berlioz produced some exquisite poetry and particularly in Nature immense, Faust’s invocation to nature, in line with Goethe’s ideas during his Romantic phase. Having signed away his soul, the ostinato of the violins set a cracking pace to begin The Ride to the Abyss. This fascinating piece which illustrates the rich dramatic possibilities of mid-nineteenth century Romantic music lived up to expectations. Following the text it was fantastic multi-Affekt music: the insistent walking bass of the cellos and double basses and the ostinato figure of the first violins; the expressive melody of the oboe obbligato; the gentle prayers and the shriek of terror from the peasants; the growl of un monstre from the tubas; the change in tempo as the galloping horses slow, stop and pick up even more frantically at the urging Hop! Hop! from Mephistophles; the crescendo that leads to the final Horreur. Faust was damned; Furlan sank into his chair. More Pandemonium followed and the orchestra and chorus created one infernal din. But heaven had the last word as the Youth Chorus entered and invited Margarite to join the celestial spirits.

Donose and Cavallier were outstanding and the CBSO orchestra and chorus as solid as ever. The reception was generous but I thought Morlot could have handled the acknowledgements better by allowing the vocalists to take their applause individually. And although he deservedly singled out certain orchestra members, it was behind the full line of soloists and so masked from my seat in the stalls. Opinion is divided as to whether the work should be restricted to concert performances or given the full opera treatment. I don’t believe this work is an opera-in-the-mind only as the 1999 Salzburg production from the avant-garde group Fura dels Baus proved. The version provided additional thought-provoking sensations, and vindicated the imagination of Berlioz, Romantic composer par excellence.

Geoff Read


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