Of few operas have there been so many fine historic recordings as of Pelleas et Melisande: reissues have included Desormiere’s of 1941, Ansermet’s of 1952, Fournet’s of 1953, Cluytens’s of 1956, Inghelbrecht’s of 1962 – and now comes yet another, from Baudo, a conductor with a great reputation as an interpreter of French music and closely associated with this particular work. The excellence of this performance leaves one wondering why it has taken the best part of 20 years to emerge here; but its arrival is a matter for enthusiasm and congratulation. Baudo, whom Karajan recommended to take over Pelleas from him at La Scala, isn’t as Wagnerian in his treatment as the latter, but he produces a warm sound from the Lyon orchestra, knows how to shape Debussy’s subtle phrases, and is notably good at making use of silences.
He is fortunate to have a cast without a single weak member. It is often the case that the central figure of Golaud, tortured by blind jealousy, steals the show, but Gabriel Bacquier is superb, capturing every nuance from tenderness to abrupt anger (at the news of the loss of the ring) or agonized frustration beside Melisande’s deathbed. Michele Command, here at an early stage of her career, and entirely free from the undue weightiness that has sometimes characterized her work since, makes a shy, fey Melisande who remains an enigmatic figure; she invests with a sense of melancholy the famous solo about her long hair. The big surprise of this set is the Pelleas, a sensitive singer who seems, inexplicably, to have appeared in only one other recording (The merry wives of Windsor), made in the year before this – in a bass role! Listed here as a tenor, he is more a high baritone (which is appropriate for the part), just occasionally sounding a trifle stretched on a high note. The part of Arkel, sometimes sung insufficiently exactly, is given nobility by Roger Soyer; and the Yniold sounds convincingly childlike. Care has been taken in the production, as can be heard in the hollower acoustic of the scene in the vaults; only the perspective of the sailors on the unseen ship – always a problem in recordings – is a little uncertain.
Make no mistake: this is a very rewarding version of this masterpiece, and as a two-disc bargain-price issue is a real snip. Even at bargain price, however, there is no excuse for RCA’s rank carelessness in listing a principal character as “Goulad”.'