With the edition published as part of the “Opera Omnia Rameau” and the new performance material, also available in transposed versions, the difficulties surrounding the transmission of “Les Boréades” have been surmounted. This now offers the musicians complete freedom to present this masterpiece of French operatic repertoire.
The story of “Les Boréades” is unique, both in its history and its recent fortunes. Whilst in 1763 it was intrigues, a fire and the censors which hindered the creation and dissemination of the work, a contract signed on 22 October 1976 between the Bibliothèque nationale de France and the publisher Alain Villain concerning the transfer of exclusive exploitation rights obliged musicians to pay high royalties for any performance of the opera. Under pressure from the Société Jean-Philippe Rameau, the Bibliothèque nationale de France ended this controversial exclusive contract in 2018. It has taken a whole 255 years of repeated new attempts and struggles to reinstate the right for this opera to be performed, like every other work by Rameau. It is high time to calmly take stock of the situation: a blessing for an opera which was written for times of peace.
An opera for peace
Documents reveal that the work was programmed for the celebrations held in the Théâtre de Choisy for the signing of the peace treaty in 1763 which ended the Seven Years War. Who more suitable than his Majesty’s official composer to present a work for the celebration of such an event? The opera had been ready since at least 1759, and now just waited for a suitable opportunity to receive its premiere.
Against this background, Jean-Georges Durand, chief copyist of the Paris Opéra, cleaned up Rameau’s autograph in April 1763, and oversaw the preparation of the performance material. On Monday 25 April 1763, a few days after the fire in the Opera House on 6 April, the first rehearsal took place in the workshop of the Opéra in Rue Saint-Nicaise, Paris; the second rehearsal took place two days later in Versailles.
But the first performance of “Les Boréades” did not in fact take place at court in June 1763. Why? Neither the repeated strikes by the artists, which Denis Papillon de La Ferté, manager of the Menus-Plaisirs complained about, nor the technical difficulties of the work could have led to a work by the “King’s composer” being removed from the programme. Is it seriously conceivable that the management of the Paris Opéra would have missed out on the opportunity of staging Rameau’s last work after his death? When the Paris opera troupe performed again in January 1764 in the workshop of the Tuileries Palace, which served as the interim location for the burned-out hall in the Palais royal, the directors programmed a revival of “Castor et Pollux”. How can it be explained that Rebel and Francœur did not take advantage of the opportunity to offer a premiere by Rameau in their plans for the season opening, after the Parisian public had not heard any opera performances for nine long months?
An explanation for this unusual situation can only be hypothetical, and here we go back to the royal censors who were responsible for preventing any attempt to question the political-social system, or morally objectionable behaviour. After the appalling attempted regicide by Damiens in 1757, any text which was suspected of undermining royal authority was all the more rigidly silenced. And a present-day analytical reading of the libretto corroborates the hypothesis that “Les Boréades” was censored in a thoroughly disconcerting way.
A censored libretto
The topic, taken from Greek-Roman mythology, draws on the difficult love affair between the nymph Orithye and Boreas, the God of the North wind, who abducts and rapes the young woman. This union produces the two “Boread” sons Zetes and Calais (in the opera, Borilée and Calisis), and Boreas wants to force Alphise, the Queen of Bactria, to marry one of them. But she prefers Abaris, a person of unknown background, which annoys Boreas.
Although it is anonymous, the libretto is probably by Louis de Cahusac. The theme and the structure of the libretto are entirely in his style: the dramatic justification of the pleasures (les divertissements), the use of the miraculous (le merveil) with the magic arrow, the spectacular stage machinery and above all, the thematic motifs favoured by the librettist; the exoticism with Bactria (the old Afghanistan) as the setting, and the female martyr, the object of desire and victim of despotic power.
There is every reason to assume that the subversive aspect of Cahusac’s text led to its exclusion from the programme planning, because of its libertarian doctrine, brought to the point by the nymph Orithia’s cry of insurrection: “Le bien suprême, c’est la liberté!” [“The ultimate good is freedom!”] (II,6). This doctrine is developed through three motifs. The first is embodied by Alphise, who demands the right to love freely. The young woman would rather abdicate than submit to her political duties – a stance which was highly improper in regard to the diplomatic structures in the kingdom. The second motif, represented by Abaris, is that of the antihero, plagued by self-doubts and weaknesses, who would rather kill himself than fight, an act which would be totally rejected by the church, which was strictly against suicide. The third and most toxic motif is the denunciation of the abuse of power by the tyrannical Boread princes and Boreas by Alphise, who is publicly tortured as a woman of humble background because of her disobedience. In short, the libretto of “Les Boréades” reveals a scathing morality which calls into question the achievements and privileges of blood rights, a philosophy inspired by the Enlightenment that defends the rights and freedoms of the individual, and denounces intolerance, injustice and torture. The censors were not mistaken. The libretto could not be presented in its existing form or with its rebellious dimensions to the King and his court, certainly not at an official occasion such as the celebration of peace. The libretto was never published.
Difficulties of the edition
The autograph of “Les Boréades” has not survived; just a few fragments of manuscript sources by Rameau survive which were used as correction sheets, mainly in “Zéphire”. And because of the limited circulation of the work during Rameau’s lifetime, the musical sources of “Les Boréades” only contain a few corrections. They comprise a clean copy of Rameau’s manuscript made by Durand, as well as the performance material, with several individual parts missing. These sources, which were prepared for the performances, are extremely important as Rameau carefully checked them. They were used in rehearsals, and contain many markings by the conductor.
The secondary sources in another hand are limited to a copy prepared by Jean-Baptiste de Serre, commissioned by Decroix, of purely documentary interest, and a late copy from the 19th century.
As well as the lack of a figured basso continuo part, the main editorial problems include the questions raised by the double bass part, as well as the high tessituras of the haute-contre parts, especially those of Abaris and Calisis. Because of the missing continuo part, we are forced to rely on the score checked through by Rameau, as well as well-known practices of the day, combined as these are with some uncertainties.
The question of the double bass part is more difficult. This part was copied by Pierre Brice, the head of the Bibliothèque de la Musique du roi, so there is no doubt about its authenticity (hence its inclusion in our edition). The double bass player responsible for the part was Louis-Charles Demigneaux, section principal in the royal orchestra from 1762. He also played in the rehearsals, which doubly legitimises the existence of the double bass part in the work.
Another major problem is the particularly high tessitura of the haute-contre parts, especially when the work is performed by a modern orchestra at a higher pitch than in Rameau’s time. Because of this old, well-known problem, we offer the performance material, including full score, vocal score and orchestral parts, in three versions: the first in the original keys; the second entirely transposed down a tone; and the third adapted for modern orchestra, with some numbers transposed. This third solution is the result of detailed discussions with several conductors, particularly Konrad Junghänel. A few passages remain in the original key, others have been transposed down a tone, or a tone and a semitone, or two tones, which meant that the transitions or recitatives had to be adjusted too. As far as possible we have retained the original tonal-architectural balance, and avoided notes or keys which Rameau did not use. Where just a few notes are problematic for singers at the pitch of 415, we have also suggested some isolated, limited alternatives, but it is left to the performer whether s/he chooses this option.
Sylvie Bouissou