Édouard Lalo’s Le Roi d’Ys was first performed in Paris in 1888. A work of often startling originality, it was hugely admired in its day and still hovers on the fringes of the repertory in the French-speaking world. Elsewhere, however, its outings have been sporadic, so Chelsea Opera Group cannot be too highly commended for tackling it in a very fine concert performance conducted by Paul Wingfield.
The opera derives from the Breton legend of the city of Ys that vanished, Atlantis-like, beneath the ocean. The king of the title, however, is not its central protagonist, and Lalo focuses on his two daughters, gracious Rozenn and imperious Margared, both in love with the soldier Mylio, initially believed a casualty of the recent war between Ys and the forces of the enemy prince Karnac. A pawn in her father’s politics, Margared is to marry Karnac as part of their peace treaty. But her refusal to do so on discovering that Mylio is both alive and loves Rozenn, leads first to the resumption of hostilities, then to her conspiring with Karnac to open the floodgates that protect the city from the sea.
The work has often been dubbed Wagnerian, in part thanks to its dark, brass rich orchestral colouring and the echoes of Elsa and Ortrud in Lohengrin that inform Lalo’s depiction of the relationship between Rozenn and Margared. Yet the description is also in many ways wide of the mark as Lalo’s absolute conciseness of expression and avoidance of symphonic development are the antithesis of Wagnerian expansion. Reiterated rhythmic patterns, at times turning obsessive, drive the music forwards. The choruses, extensive and exacting, oscillate between ritual and violence. And the extraordinary vocal writing for Margared, clipped, neurotic and declamatory, fatally undermines the lyricism of all those round her.
The performance was thrilling. Wingfield drove the score hard, its moments of edgy nervousness and the disturbing excitement of Lalo’s war music contrasting with the beauty of the love scenes between Mylio and Rozenn. Choral singing and playing were characterised by furious energy and commitment. Etching words and phrases in her lower register, Maria Schellenberg’s Margared was all hauteur and barely repressed rage. Rozenn has sometimes been depicted as gentle and timid, though Hye-Youn Lee portrays her as a woman of great moral certainty and strength. This is a beautiful voice, too. Mylio’s music lies high and Luis Gomes, though admirably heroic and lyrical, had a couple of moments of strain towards the end. Alexey Gusev, on the other hand, made a terrific Karnac, deeply attractive yet implacably malign. Thomas D Hopkinson was the dignified king. Chelsea Opera Group at their best – and we need to hear the work itself much more frequently than we do.
