Monday, August 10, 2020

Jean-Philippe Rameau, Dardanus (1739)

Rameau! We all love him! Although he was supposedly kind of weird and difficult to deal with in person. I suppose we'd probably put him somewhere on the autism spectrum today. But he sure could compose! I mean, if I like Handel more, it's because I'm such a big fan of the Italian-style baroque aria, but that's just personal preference. Rameau rulez.

Here's the story: Iphise, King Teucer's daughter; and Dardanus, son of Jupiter, are in love. Hurray! Unfortunately, Dardanus is Teucer's enemy, and he wants Iphise to marry his general, Anténor, instead. Iphise and Dardanus reveal that they're in love with each other (each not having known how the other felt, apparently), but oh no! Dardanus is captured! And then, double oh no! Neptune sends a HORRIBLE BEAST to ravage the countryside! Dardanus slays the beast, saving Anténor in the process, but doesn't reveal his identity. Everyone thinks Anténor slew the beast, but when Dardanus reveals himself, Anténor is forced to admit defeat, and asks Teucer to let his daughter marry Dardanus, which he does. Hurray! That's the version that I saw, which--I glean from the wikipedia page--is the original 1739 version; it was revised in 1744. They're pretty darn different: there's no HORRIBLE BEAST in the later version (why would you get rid of the HORRIBLE BEAST?! Everyone loves those guys!), and Anténor dies. I suppose his sacrifice might be more dramatically compelling, but I liked the one I saw.

Yeah, this pretty much rules. As usual with Rameau, the plot is...not given primary importance; there are long ballet sequences that interrupt proceedings for very little apparent reason. At the end in particular: quite a number of times you think, okay, it must be over now, oops, nope, more dancing. I mean, I'm not complaining, but it doesn't have what we would consider these days a strongly developed since of pacing.

Just look at this blu-ray cover:


Pretty! That candy-colored theme definitely gives you a good idea of what the whole thing is like. It strikes me as one hundred percent appropriate. I will cavil about one tiny thing, though: see that wig she's wearing? A lot of people in the opera are wearing similar, and when you see them close up, they appear to be made of plastic, which I didn't love.

Rameau wrote twenty-eight extant operas, of which I've now seen twelve, which unfortunately is all that are available in video form, at least per what I think has been a fairly comprehensive search. Give me more, dammit!

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