Thomas ARNE (1710-1778) 
Artaxerxes
    (1762)
 Artaxerxes, Prince and afterwards King of Persia; friend to Arbaces, and in
    love with Semira – Christopher Ainslie (countertenor)
 Artabanes, Generalissimo, and favourite of the Royal Family; father to
    Arbaces and Semira – Andrew Staples (tenor)
 Arbaces, Friend of Artaxerxes, in love with Mandane – Caitlin Hulcup
    (mezzo-soprano)
 Rimenes, A General of the Army, and confidant of Artabanes – Daniel Norman
    (tenor)
 Mandane, Sister to Artaxerxes, in love with Arbaces – Elizabeth Watts
    (soprano)
 Semira, Sister to Arbaces, in love with Artaxerxes – Rebecca Bottone
    (soprano)
 The Mozartists/Ian Page
 rec. Air Studios, London, UK, 18-21 November 2009 and 2 April 2010. The
    recording followed a production of Artaxerxes at the Royal Opera
    House, Covent Garden in 2009, directed by Martin Duncan and designed by
    Johan Engels – Seen and Heard
    
        review.
    It was originally released in 2010 on Linn Records.
 Libretto and liner notes by Ian Page enclosed.
 SIGNUM CLASSICS SIGCD672 
    [68:06 + 69:38]
 Reviewed as downloaded with pdf booklet from
    
        hyperion-records.co.uk
    
    (available in 16/44.1, 24/96 and 24/192 formats)
	
	For the general music lover – at least outside Great Britain – Thomas Arne
    is known for Rule, Britannia as performed annually at The Last
    Night of the Proms and televised worldwide. This piece emanates from a
    masque, Alfred, from 1740, which together with a couple of other
    works established him as the leading English theatre composer of his time,
    and he also wrote songs for several Shakespeare plays. Soon, however, his
    popularity began to wane and it took almost twenty years before in the
early 1760s he had three great successes, and the most appreciated work was Artaxerxes, which continued to be performed well into the 19    th century.
 
    Unfortunately the original performing material was lost, presumably in the
    fire that destroyed the Covent Garden Theatre in 1808, and the material
    that was used at revivals in the 1813 was a foreshortened version made by
    Henry Bishop. Published in vocal score by John Addison, it included further
    settings by Bishop of recitatives and the final chorus. Fortunately Arne’s
    original score was published in 1762 but it excluded the recitatives and
the finale. All this meant that when Ian Page was to produce    Artaxerxes in 2009, he wrote new recitatives and commissioned
    Duncan Druce to write a new finale in the style of Arne.
 
    Almost fifteen years earlier Hyperion (CDD22073, two CDs for the price of
    one –
    
        review)
    had issued a recording of the work with The Parley of Instruments,
    conducted by Roy Goodman, and for that production Peter Holman, the Music
Director of The Parley, made his own performing version of    Artaxerxes. In effect this means that today we have two different
    versions of the work, which of course invites comparisons. I have sampled
    the Hyperion without going into too much detail, but both are worthy
efforts and it is indeed valuable to have this, seemingly the first English    opera seria, in two editions.
 
    The libretto was not new when Arne laid hold of it. It was written in 1729
    by Pietro Metastasio, the most productive librettist of the 18th
    century – and possibly of all times – who constructed more than 800
    librettos. Artaxerxes is also one of the most popular of his
    creations, being set by more than 90 composers, including Hasse and Gluck.
    But the first, for whom the libretto was written, was Leonardo Vinci (1696?
    – 1730) whose Artaserse, as the original title was, premiered in
    February 1730, only a few months before the composer’s death. His opera was
    recorded some years ago and it is a tremendous work that should be heard by
    all lovers of baroque operas (review).
 
    Artaserse is the Persian king Artaxerxes I, son of Xerxes I (Serse). He
    ruled from 465 BC to 424 BC. The story is, as so often in baroque operas,
    rather complicated: Mandane, sister of Artaserse, is in love with Arbaces,
    son of King Serse’s general Artabanes. Serse is against this love and
    banishes Arbaces. When the two lovers secretly meet in the castle garden
    Artabanes appears, carrying a bloody sword. He admits to Arbaces that he
    has killed Serse for his ill treatment of Arbaces and also because he wants
    Arbaces to become king. Then the two exchange swords. Now Artaserse arrives
    and Artabanes tells him about the murder and accuses Dario, Artaserse’s
    older brother, of the deed. Artaserse orders Artabanes to kill Dario. A
    little later Artaserse admits that he loves Semira, Arbaces’s sister.
 
    The murder of Dario is announced and Rimenes, a general who supports
    Artabanes and also is in love with Semira, brings in Arbaces, in chains,
    and announces that a bloody sword had been found among Arbaces’s
    possessions. Arbaces is condemned to death but Artaserse doubts that he is
    guilty and releases him so he can get away.
 
    In the temple Artaserse swears that he will uphold law and order in his
    kingdom. To affirm this he is about to drink from a sacred goblet, not
    knowing that Artabanes has poisoned the drink. Before he has time to drink,
    Rimenes and his soldiers approach the castle. The attack is averted when
    Arbaces kills Rimenes. Now Artaserse hands the goblet to Arbaces so he can
    prove his innocence by drinking from it. In this situation Artabanes, to
    save the life of his son, admits that he has poisoned the drink and also
    that he murdered Serse. Artabanes is captured and led away, but Artaserse,
    in love with Semira, condemns him, not to death but to exile. In the
    concluding chorus everybody hails Artaserse: Justice becomes beautiful when
    accompanied by mercy. Happy end to this bloody story!
 
    To this story, translated into English, probably by the composer himself,
    Thomas Arne composed a melodious and colourful score, encompassing a both
    lively and solemn overture and 29 musical numbers, connected with
    recitatives in accordance with the traditional opera seria 
    formula. Of the musical numbers there are two duettinos, one at the
    beginning and one near the end, and a final chorus, sung by the five
    survivors (Rimenes was killed by Arbaces as you may remember). The rest are
    arias, or airs as they are denoted, but there are no dacapo arias as in
    Handel’s and Vinci’s operas.
 
    The recitatives are, with a few exceptions, secco recitatives. Considering
    the violent tidings, the music in general is fairly undramatic, rather
    idyllic, and easy on the ear. Artaxerxes’ Fair Semira, lovely maid
    (CD 1 tr. 11) is noble and beautiful and so is his short air at the
    beginning of Act II, In infancy, our hopes and fears (CD 1 tr.
    25). Arbaces’s By that belov’d embrace (CD 2 tr. 4) is also
beautiful and so is his prison aria (or arietta) opening act III:    Why is death for ever late (CD 2 tr. 10).
 
One of the most beautiful utterances in the work is Mandane’s    Let not rage your bosom firing (CD 2 tr. 20). In sharp contrast is
    her The soldier, tir’d of war’s alarms (CD 2 tr. 26), which is the
most dramatic piece in the opera. It is also the best-known number from Artaxerxes, famously recorded by Joan Sutherland on her    The Art of the Prima Donna (Decca 4783071, download or vinyl –
    
        review
    
    –
    
        review
    
    – of earlier reissue, or Alto ALC1125, budget price CD –
    
        review), first issued in 1960. Returning to it just to check whether my memory
    had hoaxed me, I found that her magisterial power, beauty of tone and
    steadiness was exactly as I remembered it, and her consonants as muddled as
    before, but the disappointment was the bloodless accompaniment, and the
    tempo felt heavy-footed.
 
    Neither Elizabeth Watts on Page’s recording nor Catherine Bott on Goodman’s
    can quite challenge Sutherland for monumentality, excellent as they both
    are, but the life and freshness, both in the singing at slightly swifter
    tempos and the orchestral playing, incisive and with rhythmic élan, are far
    superior as a totality.
 
    Which brings me to the performance at large. The orchestral playing on
    period instruments at A=430Hz is superlative, and with lively tempos the
    story unfolds at a comfortable pace. The arias are mostly short and the
    recitatives are, as so often, a liability. It takes a Handel in top shape
    to make something musically convincing of the recitatives. The soloists are
    also excellent and my only complaint, if it even is a complaint, is that
    the two sopranos are rather similar in timbre and difficult to tell from
    each other. But all have well-schooled voices; they articulate well and
    there are no wobblers. The fact that they went into the studio after a
    series of live performances surely contributes to the sense of presence.
    The singers were their characters.
 
    This is a wholly recommendable recording of a milestone work in the history
    of English opera. The only alternative, the Goodman recording on Hyperion,
    should be a valuable companion on your shelves, slightly different but also
    with singing and playing of the highest order. But I also urge readers to
    try Leonardo Vinci’s setting of the same libretto. It was a revelation when
    it came out eight years ago (Erato 9029511825, 3 CDs, budget price:
    Recording of the Month
    
        review
    
    – or 6028692, download, or 2564632323, DVD), and has so remained.
 
    Göran Forsling