Persée is hardly one of Lully’s best­known operas – the production given in November 2000 by Toronto’s Opera Atelier was its first in over 200 years. But‚ as this world première recording reveals‚ it is a wonderful and sometimes gripping example of the dramatic powers of the composer and his favourite librettist‚ Philippe Quinault. First performed in Paris in 1682‚ it takes its story from Ovid. Persée (Perseus)‚ the son of Jupiter‚ loves the Ethiopian princess Andromède‚ but she‚ while returning Persée’s love‚ is resolved to honour her promise to Phinée. Persée is also loved vainly by Mérope. Persée decides to impress Andromède by slaying the snake­headed gorgon Méduse‚ whose gaze can turn a man to stone‚ but when he returns with her head in a bag‚ he finds Andromède chained to a rock‚ offered by her people as a desperate sacrifice to the sea monster who has been menacing their shores. He rescues her‚ whereupon Phinée‚ realising that he is losing Andromède to his rival‚ attempts to kill him. Persée prevails‚ however‚ by fetching Medusa’s head out of the bag and showing it to Phinée‚ thereby petrifying him. Lully’s opera is constructed according to the five­act plus prologue design for tragédie lyrique which he himself had established‚ and like many French operas‚ makes greater and more dramatic use of the chorus than would an Italian equivalent. There are two striking scenes for competing choirs‚ the first in Act 4 where Ethiopians and tritons watch as Perseus fights the sea monster‚ and the second in Act 5‚ a real choral battle between followers of Persée and Phinée. But it is in the opera’s more intimate scenes that Lully really hits the spot. Both in monologues such as Mérope lamenting her hopeless love in Act 1‚ and in a number of superb dialogues‚ he uses his psychological insight and talent for naturalistic word­setting to produce scenes of captivating power: Andromède and Phinée protest their love in a breathless‚ twisting duet; Andromède and Mérope confess their shared feelings for Persée in a chaconne of painful beauty; and in a memorable scene Persée overcomes Andromède’s resistance in an encounter full of anguished uncertainties and silences. It has become the fashion in recent years to denigrate Lully’s abilities in favour of the ‘more talented’ Charpentier‚ but while the latter often wrote richer music he can surely never have come up with anything more effective. Lully’s ability‚ furthermore‚ to set such intimate moments among larger­scale public scenes or set­pieces such as Persée’s encounter with Méduse – in other words to open the drama out and close it in at will – is here superbly demonstrated. The performance‚ recorded live at a concert performance in Paris’s Cité de la Musique last September‚ is a triumph. This is not a star vehicle‚ but every member of this cast plays their part well. Persée actually has surprisingly little to sing and what there is is economical and to the point‚ but Paul Agnew brings his usual penetrating urgency of tone to the role‚ while there are also strongly musical and dramatic contributions from Salomé Haller as Mérope‚ Monique Simon as Andromède’s mother Cassiope‚ and Jérôme Corréas as Phinée. Laurent Slaars’s cameo as Méduse‚ too‚ is effective; for once the temptation to camp this sort of role up is resisted‚ and as a result our sympathies are briefly aligned with this unfortunate creature. If there is a leading performance‚ however‚ it must be Anna Maria Panzarella’s deeply affecting Andromède‚ torn between love and duty as so many operatic heroines are but making her predicament sound no less real or original. Christophe Rousset’s direction is well paced‚ stylistically and dramatically assured‚ and shows sensitivity to the text’s declamatory demands. The recording’s live provenance (from just one performance) inevitably throws up the odd uncomfortable edit and there are a few stage noises‚ but the sound has presence and clarity. The booklet­notes could be more helpful (how about a synopsis even as clear as the one above?)‚ but time taken with the full text is worth the trouble. Overall this might not be Lully’s greatest opera‚ but it certainly displays the stuff of genius.