This very attractive release brings together two works written by Lully towards the end of his life. Idylle sur la paix and Le temple de la paix were performed in 1685. The ‘Peace’ of the titles is the short-lived one of Regensburg, signed by France, Spain and the Holy Roman Empire the previous year. The two pieces are of a different kind from one another, the Idylle somewhat resembling an extended cantata, with airs and choruses interspersed with instrumental dances, the other a ballet from which a suite of eight movements has been devised. The main attraction here is the Idyll, a delightful creation in which a pastoral poem by Racine, written for the occasion and therefore well seasoned with royal panegyric, has been set with skill and evocative charm by the king’s ‘surintendant’.
The performance of the Idylle took place in the Orangery of the chateau of Sceaux, which had been built for Louis XIV’s great minister Colbert. The king was present, having ‘honoured the Marquis de Seignelay [Colbert’s elder son] by coming to stroll about this pleasant house.’ According to another report the music seems to have been especially well received: ‘Never has [Lully] better succeeded than on this occasion. The great airs were so well mixed with the rustic ones that everyone found something to satisfy his tastes. The Idylle was sung by [the] Opera’s finest voices.’
Hugo Reyne and Le Symphonie du Marais offer rhythmically lively, gently inflected performances of both works. This ensemble plays with greater refinement than it used to and the results are gratifying. Racine has no scope here for the fine character portrayal that is such a feature of his plays, but his unaffectedly simple declamation, natural and graceful, is present throughout and pleasingly responded to by the five solo vocalists, who also sing the choruses. Reyne himself has done a mainly convincing job in filling out the orchestral parts or ‘parties de remplissage’. This is Lully at his most intimate, demonstrating at every turn a sensibility to text and texture some way removed from the majestic, triumphal gestures which we more readily associate with the entourage and lifestyle of the Sun King.'