Francois Bazin's name has not impinged much on twentieth-century studies of French opera (the new Viking Opera Guide does not list him). A contemporary of Offenbach, he had nine light operas performed at the Opera Comique between 1846 and 1870. Of these generally nothing has been remembered except the tenor aria from Maitre Pathelin, ''Je pense a vous quand je m'eveille'', recorded by Gaston Micheletti and other stylish singers of the belle epoque. His greatest success, Le Voyage en Chine, first given in 1865, boasts a libretto by Eugene Labiche—a typical farce of mistaken identities, young lovers, and worthy gentlemen embarrassed by taps that won't turn off. The trip to China never takes place, since the ship stays anchored at Cherbourg.
If one heard the music 'blind' one might guess that it was by Offenbach, with its occasional parodies—''Ah! Italie!'' sighs one of the heroines, an obvious musical reference to Les troyens, which had been given at the Theatre Lyrique a year or so before. There is a splendid ensemble, ''Quel temps effroyable'', which sounds as if it might have influenced the end of Act 1 of La vie parisienne. Michel Senechal as a hapless suitor and Lina Dachary as the younger of the two daughters trying to find a husband, lead the cast and Marcel Cariven, the most stylish of all the conductors involved in this valuable Gaite Lyrique venture, keeps the whole souffle just a point. How curious to think that this was recorded in Paris in August 1968, the May riots still reverberating through all of European society.
It is a joy to hear the French language spoken and sung with such ease—the more of these recordings one hears, the more it becomes apparent that the constant lament for the loss of French vocal style is an affair of greater complexity than just the gradual erosion of the operas from the repertory. Few of these singers achieved fame but they all carry the piece off with authority. The extracts from Maitre Pathelin that fill up the second CD date from three years later. The notes by Robert Pourvoyeur claim that this medieval drama of arguing tradesmen gave the expression ''Retournez a vos moutons'' to the language. The comic role of the shepherd, Aignelet, sung here by Michel Hamel, was a notable success for Jean-Francois Berthelier, Offenbach's favourite comic tenor from the early days of the Bouffes Parisiens.
Hahn's O mon bel inconnu! was an attempt to follow up the success of his earlier collaboration with Sacha Guitry, Mozart. By 1933, however, Mme Guitry (Yvonne Printemps), had transferred her affections elsewhere, and this story of a family who become engrossed by the Lonely Hearts column of the local paper, and their sprightly maid, Felicie, originally starred Simone Simon as the daughter, with Arletty as the maid and Hahn's boyfriend, Guy Ferrant, as Claude. The original cast made a series of 78s, with Marcel Cariven conducting. These have recently been reissued in France (EPM Musique) and, hearing the great personalities of the 1930s, one has sadly to concede that the cast from 1971 cannot really bring off the manner required. It is more remote than the opera comique of the 1860s, the greater formality of which somehow suits modern performers better than the Guitry-Hahn couplets, which take their starting-point in the half-spoken, half-sung cafe-concert style. It is nevertheless a boon to be able to hear O mon bel inconnu! complete, the title-song, a trio for three sopranos, is one of Hahn's most infectious tunes, and even without Arletty's nasal twang, the ''Air de la Chalcographie'' makes an impression.
La Basoche was one of Messager's earliest successes, four years after the ballet Les deux pigeons. It has a story involving ''Marie d'Angleterre''—better known to Anglo-Saxons as Mary-Rose, sister of Henry VIII, who married Louis XII of France and, it was said, led him such a giddy life that he died of it. La Basoche is a guild of clerks in Paris, which each year elected a 'king' who had to be unmarried. The hero, concealing his wife, meets the Princess on her arrival and she confuses him with the real king. The piece stayed in the repertory at the Opera Comique until 1939, to a great extent because for over 25 years it enshrined a famous performance by Lucien Fugere as the Duc de Longueville; his recording of ''Elle m'aime! O Coeur feminin, curieux probleme!'' has been reissued (6/93). It all sounds rather more fun on paper than it is in the listening. There is a great deal of dialogue and many trumpet fanfares. The cast is capable without being outstanding. For students of Messager's work, this is an important addition to the catalogue, but for those with a more generalized interest in opera comique, the two Bazin works are to be preferred.'