Music and politics were inseparably intertwined in 17th- and 18th-century France. Louis XIV and his father, Louis XIII—whose reigns spanned slightly more than a century, from 1610 to 1715—used music both as propaganda for their absolutist regimes and to keep their restive courtiers entertained. In addition to being munificent patrons of the arts, both monarchs were accomplished musicians and dancers; Louis XIII may even have composed some of the “anonymous” music played on a concert presented at his court in 1627, excerpts from which will kick off tonight’s program.
The Bourbon kings maintained a vast musical establishment in Paris and, later, Versailles. In the front ranks were the 24 Violins du Roi (Violins of the King), a highly selective string ensemble renowned for its precise and stylish performances. A wind band known as the Grande Écurie, or “Great Stable,” supplied music for banquets and outdoor functions, while the musicians of the Royal Chapel participated in religious services at court. Under Louis XIV, the Royal Academy of Music, the forerunner of today’s Paris Opera, had a monopoly on producing opera in the kingdom.
As the undisputed musical capital of Europe, Paris attracted musicians from far and wide. French Baroque music was distinguished by its supple lyricism and refinement, in contrast to the brilliant virtuosity of the Italian style and the “learned” contrapuntal style cultivated in Germany. French composers were also known for their propensity for intricate ornamentation—the musical equivalent of the elaborate flourishes that characterize Baroque art and architecture. Such ornaments, or agréments, are not merely decorative add-ons but intrinsic to the expressive power of the music.
Like the upper echelons of French society, French musical life was dominated by a small coterie of families who produced generation after generation of highly skilled professional musicians. The Philidors, Couperins, Leclairs, and other members of this elite dynastic set benefitted from a system of entrenched privilege. Nevertheless, France’s musical establishment remained to a considerable degree a meritocracy. Its openness to new blood is illustrated by the case of Marin Marais, a poor shoemaker’s son who rose to become the most famous viol player of his time in the late 1600s.
Tonight’s program begins with a group of anonymous courtly dances performed for—and, in part, by—Louis XIII in 1627. They were included in an anthology of ballet music compiled decades later by André Danican Philidor, Louis XIV’s music librarian. At the beginning of the century, Marais and other virtuoso composer-performers kept the tradition of viol playing alive at a time when younger innovators like Jean-Marie Leclair were popularizing the more up-to-date violin. François Couperin, the star of Louis XIV’s musical household, was among the greatest claveciniste (harpsichord composers) of the Baroque era; the combination of refinement and understated emotion that characterizes his music has been likened to the paintings of Watteau. Jean-Philippe Rameau—known for such operatic masterpieces as Hippolyte et Aricie, Castor et Pollux, and Les Indes galantes—further enriched the harpsichord repertoire during the reign of Louis XV.
The programmatic titles that French Baroque composers often attached to their music often mystify modern listeners, but in this case most of the references are not overly obscure. “Les ombres” (“The Shades”) is a broad, funereal march for strings, harpsichord, and drums. It is followed by a jaunty, up-tempo “air,” in which a solo violin plays the starring role. Next come three essays in the fashionable genre of musical ethnography: although neither “Les suisses” nor “Les suissesses” sounds distinctively Swiss, the playful swagger of the former and the more demure, pliant lyricism of the latter reflect the anonymous composer’s idealized image of masculinity and femininity. In “Les gascons,” a solemn, dignified dance is juxtaposed with livelier music suggestive of the “jumping” dances typical of the Gascony region.
The festive, ceremonial atmosphere of “Entrée de Mr. de Liancourt” strikes an appropriate note for a member of the nobility, while the broad, emphatic opening of “Les valets de la faiste” is reminiscent of the so-called French overtures that open many a Baroque opera and instrumental work. In “Les nimphes de la grenouillere” (“The Nymphs of the Frog Pond”), heavy downbeats mark off the music’s fleet, dancing rhythms. The gay, pastoral mood of “Les bergers” (“The Shepherds”) is accentuated by its shifting meters and folklike melody. “Les amériquains,” an infectiously rhythmic romp reminiscent of a hoedown, alludes to the Native Americans who created a sensation when they visited the court of Louis XIII.
Unlike the other composers represented on tonight’s program, Sainte-Colombe never held an official post at the French court. Indeed, virtually nothing is known about his life, and the manuscript of his 67 endlessly inventive duets “for two equal viols” was only rediscovered in the 1960s. Le retour (The Return) comprises four sections of distinct characters, with a suavely elegant overture and a concluding pianelle (a triple-time dance that Sainte-Colombe seems to have invented) framing a pair of shorter, lively dances. A relaxed, conversational atmosphere characterizes the piece, which takes its name from the repeat sign in the opening section.
A student of Sainte-Colombe, Marais went on to become the most celebrated viola da gamba virtuoso of his time. He published five collections of suites for his instrument between 1686 and 1725, a monumental body of work comprising nearly 600 individual pieces. Books 2, 4, and 5 of pièces de viole were published in 1701, 1717, and 1725 respectively. His fourth book was dedicated not to highly placed patrons of the composer but to the general public. In line with his stated intention “to satisfy the public’s various tastes in viol music” (and thus expand the market for his printed collections), Marais combined pieces that were “easy, melodious, and contain little harmony” with more challenging fare suitable for advanced players. This monumental collection documents the whole panoply of dances prominent in the Bourbon court, as well as many character pieces with descriptive titles, like those heard on tonight’s program, which specifically evoke scenes of a country festival and dance, a Savoyard march, and a Spanish sarabande.
Organist of the Royal Chapel, Couperin wrote his four Concerts royaux, which were published in 1722, “for the little chamber concerts where Louis XIV bade me come nearly every Sunday of the year.” The king’s private apartments at the Louvre included the lavishly appointed (and acoustically superb) Chambre de Parade on the first floor of the palace, overlooking the Seine. According to a contemporary chronicler, “Musicians declare that in all Paris there is no place more suitable for soft music and attribute the reason for this to the wood of its ceilings, its paneling, and the embrasures of each casement.” This must have been an ideally intimate setting for Couperin’s “Royal Concerts,” which he designated either for solo harpsichord or for an ensemble of three melody instruments and continuo.
The Troisième concert royal, in A major, conforms to the standard format of the French Baroque suite, a set of stylized instrumental dances and other pieces built around a stately allemande, a vivacious courante, a broadly lyrical sarabande, and a bouncy gigue. Here, Couperin appends an expository Prélude, whose genial lilt sets the tone for the rest of the suite, and he replaces the gigue with the Gavotte. The latter’s rhythmic vigor contrasts with the lumpier gait of the ensuing bagpipe-like Muzette. The concluding Chaconne, marked légère (light), is characterized by repeating patterns and echo effects.
Rameau combined violin, viol, and harpsichord in this pair of pieces from his final collection of purely instrumental works. Based on a lively Provençal folk dance, the two tambourins emulate the sound of a pipe and tabor, with the jaunty violin tune propelled by the viola da gamba’s crisply accentuated drumbeats. Alternating major and minor keys, the dances are played da capo, with Tambourin I reprised after Tambourin II. Rameau had a predilection for the tambourin, which he featured in operas, ballets, and instrumental music.
One of the greatest violinists of his day, Leclair studied in Italy and was influenced by composers like Arcangelo Corelli. His D-Major Sonata is essentially a trio sonata, assigning equal roles to the violin (or flute) and viola da gamba. The work is laid out in the four-movement format (slow-fast-slow-fast) that Corelli had helped to establish. Leclair’s music is characterized by a smoothly synchronized dialogue between the two melody instruments. It combines the sparkling energy of the Italian style with the florid melody and elasticity of the French style in what Leclair’s contemporaries called “the reunion of tastes.”
—Harry Haskell