Three operas on one disc? Yes, though obviously not grand ones with chorus: they instead use chamber forces, so today we might prefer the term music-theatre. Be that as it may, this issue brings together three works from the first quarter of our century of which two are better known by name than in performance largely because of the difficulty of programming such pieces; as for the Milhaud, Les malheurs d'Orphee, cast in three miniature acts, it is unknown save to specialists.
These things alone would make me salute such an imaginative issue, but its ingenious deviser goes one better in providing the link that all three works were commissioned by the music-loving Princess de Polignac (nee Winnaretta Singer, a richissime sewing-machine heiress who married into one of the great French families). Like Diaghilev, whose Ballets Russes she also aided, she exercised much flair in choosing composers to create music for her 'theatre' (in fact a salon), and the repertory is the richer for her patronage.
The performances here by Robert Ziegler and his Matrix Ensemble, with singer-actors at home in three languages, deserve great praise. In the Falla, the treble Samuel Linay (El Trujaman) sings his big role with lots of character and in such idiomatic Cervantes-Spanish that I think Spanish must be his lingua materna. This is most enjoyable, though it is not until the secondary action (a puppet-opera within a puppet-opera) really begins at a little less than the halfway point that the music takes on full momentum. Like many other composers from Monteverdi to Birtwistle, Milhaud was drawn to the Orpheus legend. His piece is characteristic alike of his strengths and weaknesses; though there is much attractive detail, vocal lines are unmemorable and word-setting lacks character and clarity—even French speakers will need the libretto usefully included in the booklet—while the treatment accorded to persons, moods and scenes is too similar. The model (a good one) seems to be neo-classical Stravinsky, but Milhaud cannot find enough invention to avoid monotony, although the performance is persuasive.
After this, the real Stravinsky of Renard is a wonderful tonic. His Russian 'barnyard fable' is treated with panache, colour and personality which in a performance such as this simply bursts out of one's loudspeakers. The earliest and shortest work here, it's also the one indisputable masterpiece. The cimbalom playing of Christopher Bradley adds to the atmosphere, but all taking part achieve first-class results. A fine recording produced by Tim Handley completes an outstanding and well-filled issue.'