One does not need to be a very perspicacious musical detective to deduce, from Chausson's only published opera, that he was a fervent Wagnerite (he had in fact been overwhelmed by The Ring and, particularly, Tristan in his twenties): not only does the subject itself bear resemblances to Tristan, but so do various aspects of its treatment, and the harmony, texture and even some of the themes are recognizably Wagnerian. Chausson was also greatly attracted by Celtic literature—he was extremely widely read, with cultivated literary tastes—and had already composed his symphonic poem Viviane on the Arthurian legend before writing his own libretto (partly in rhythmic prose, partly in verse) for an opera centring on Arthur and his mystic end after the deaths of his adulterous queen Guinevere and his beloved trusted knight Lancelot. Because of Chausson's acutely self-critical nature and the incidence of other works, the opera was nine years in the writing; but not until after his death was it produced—in 1903, and then not in his native France but in Brussels.
All but unknown here, almost never performed anywhere, and totally ignored on records (except for two exracts from Merlin's sybilline address by Arthur Endreze on an old Pathe 78rpm), Le Roi Arthus proves to be an immensely impressive work, opulently scored and rich in lyrical invention, some of it extremely beautiful, as for example the ethereal chorus (in 10 or 11 parts!) of the women in the barge which is to carry Arthur away. Chausson worried incessantly about being thought an amateur, but scenes such as that which opens the opera, in which the court rejoices at the victory over the Saxons and Arthur's praise of Lancelot is seized on by the envious and malignant Mordred and his malcontents, or the anguished final meeting of Guinevere and Lancelot in Act 3, against a background of battle, show a skilled professionalism which surpasses that of many more famous operatic composers. The second scene of Act 1 (preceded by an atmospheric orchestral interlude with what is surely a direct quotation from Tristan) is taken up by a Tristanesque love duet, with Lancelot's squire doing a Brangane, warning his master of the approach of dawn. The major scene between the illicit lovers, however, is in Act 2, where Lancelot (unlike Tristan) is filled with a sense of guilt and remorse, while Guinevere is ignobly concerned only with saving her reputation after being denounced by Mordred: their tense, white-hot emotions are expressed in passionate paragraphs in which the 'Tristan chord' keeps appearing.
Zylis-Gara's tonal beauty makes Guinevere a seductive femme fatale who stops at nothing to attain her ends (but finally takes her own life by strangling herself with her long hair): as her high-minded but besotted paramour, Gosta Winbergh sounds ardent but on the beefy side (certainly too loud for her in their Act 1 duet) and does not exhibit much range of colour until his deathbed scene: more serious criticisms are of his numerous mispronunciations and slips, which the producer presumably had no time to correct, and of some inexactness in placing notes. But the central focus of the opera is not the lovers but Arthur himself (as the title suggests): his nobility of mind is evoked to perfection by Gino Quilico, whose every appearance, from the work's commanding first vocal entry to Arthur's philosophical acceptance of his destiny in Act 3, conveys regal authority and lofty idealism. (The clarity and meaningfulness of his enunciation, too, are beyond praise.) A highlight of the score is the scene where, in anguish of mind, he consults a reluctant and cyrptic Merlin, who foretells his end (echoes of Wotan and Erda): Gilles Cachemaille, in fine voice, invests this part with a sombre dignity. The minor roles are all well cast, and the chorus, which plays an important part, is excellent: the orchestral sound is warm and full, but could on occasion have done with more bass. The CDs—an act per disc—at least avoid the crass choice of side-turns in the LP version: there is a pointless overlap between Sides 5 and 6, the change-over between Sides 3 and 4 would have been musically and dramatically better two words earlier, and that between Sides 1 and 2 takes place right in the middle of a held note. (The continuity of the texture poses problems, but a more sensible place would have been nine bars earlier.)'