Camille Saint-Saëns: Henry VIII
Odyssey Opera

With conductor Gil Rose at the helm and boasting seventy orchestra pieces and sixty chorus members, Odyssey Opera has accomplished something of undeniable importance with its fifth album, Henry VIII, by Camille Saint Saëns (1835-1921). Its release marks the first time a recording of the four-act opera (the composer's fifth) in its complete form has been made available and in including an hour of material never heard by audiences until the full work's 2019 premiere the release constitutes the fullest realization of the composer's initial vision for the 1883 work, which had been commissioned by the Paris Opéra three years earlier. The performance on the release derives from that live presentation at New England Conservatory's Jordan Hall but could easily pass for an in-studio recording, with the applause at the end the only detail identifying it as an in-concert set. For a live recording, the sound quality is exceptional, the orchestra and singers captured with remarkable clarity.

In a story-line involving royalty, political drama is guaranteed, but the opera's main focus is romantic intrigue, specifically the entanglements between Henry VIII, his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, and his second, Anne Boleyn, and that are further complicated by the love the Spanish ambassador, Don Gomez de Feria, has for Anne and which she apparently has for him. Animating the drama is Henry's desire for a divorce so that he can possess Anne. Despite her feelings for Gomez, the thought of becoming queen is so seductive she tells the king she'll marry him if he'll anoint her. Complications ensue until the opera ends with a dying Catherine casting a compromising love letter from Anne to Gomez into the fire and in doing so having its incriminating contents perish with her.

Though the opera was performed often in the nineteenth century, it was never presented in its complete form until the 2019 presentation, despite its composer having advocated for it from the outset; even the version performed at its 1883 premiere was truncated, as was the one that received its North American premiere a century later. Perhaps length had something to do with it: at 224 minutes, the opera won't be overlong to Wagner enthusiasts though it might seem so for others. In detailed liner notes, Saint-Saëns scholar Hugh MacDonald identifies where all the cuts occurred (primarily to the second and third acts), including the largest one, the ballet (an introduction plus seven dance episodes) that ends the second act and totals about twenty-six minutes. By reinstating all of the omissions, Odyssey Opera now allows us to experience the work with its integrity intact. As MacDonald reports, the plot for the opera came from two sources, Shakespeare's Henry VIII and a play titled The Schism in England by the seventeenth-century Spanish dramatist Calderón. Interestingly, the composer's initial outline included a fifth act that extended the story to include the arrival of Henry's third wife, Jane Seymour, but the idea was rejected early on.

The first act's stately “Prélude” instantly establishes the refined sound world the opera inhabits, a realm evocative of the early Renaissance and French opera traditions. As a harbinger of what's to come, the scene-setter works splendidly. The tone set, we're introduced progressively to the cast, Le Duc de Norfolk (baritone David Kravitz) and Don Gomez de Feria (tenor Yeghishe Manucharyan) first and then Henry (baritone Michael Chioldi), Catherine (soprano Ellie Dehn), Anne (mezzo-soprano Hilary Ginther), and others. Chioldi is a commanding presence throughout, the heft of his baritone a convincing signifier of his power as a man and public figure, and the vocal contrasts between the male and female singers is an ever-satisfying source of pleasure. When a euphonious Dehn, for example, makes her first appearance in a duet with Chioldi in the opening act's fifth scene, the moment is stirring.

Act II opens entrancingly with a lovely “Entracte” before a chorus of sopranos and tenors enters to uphold the serene tone. A series of passionate duets follows, first involving Gomez and Anne and subsequently Anne with Henry and then Catherine. Memorable moments include the sixth scene's intensely expressive exchange between the king and Anne, which, especially when coupled with her solo turn in the seventh scene, shows Ginther excelling in her role as effectively as Dehn. In featuring the two together, the act's eighth scene provides an opportunity to appreciate how much these exemplary singers elevate the opera performance. In a fitting move, the culminating scene before the ballet's onset presents a spectacular showcase for seven solo voices. Saint-Saëns' gifts as a composer and mood painter are well-accounted for in the variety of the ballet's breezy dances, and don't be surprised if you're reminded now and then of Tchaikovsky's own ballets.

The hour-long third act gives prominent roles to tenor Matthew DiBattista (Le Comte de Surrey) and bass-baritone Kevin Deas (Cardinal Campeggio [The Legate]) in addition to those featured already, with Deas in particular shining during an extended spotlight in the solemn seventh scene. Much of the action centres on the king's calculated maneuvering to win a divorce in order to wed Anne, with the second part of act three set in Westminster Hall where upon arguing his case Henry's marriage is declared null and void. The onset of this second half is intimated when regal horn fanfares announce the synod with a processional march, which is then followed by formal proceedings featuring glorious interactions between the vocal soloists, a moving turn by Dehn in “Le Synode: ‘Le synode est ouvert'” especially memorable, and chorus.

Its first tableau set in Anne's apartment and the second Catherine's retreat in Kimbolton, Act IV largely returns the focus to the primary characters—Anne (now queen), Gomez, Catherine (now ex-queen), and Henry—and dramatic exchanges between them for the opera's forty-minute conclusion. Dehn distinguishes herself again in Catherine's poignant emoting in the second tableau's first scene, as do she and Ginther during the confrontation that follows. With Henry and Gomez joining the women for the closing scene, the opera fittingly ends with the all four vertices within the romantic quadrilateral present. Throughout the performance, the French libretto by Léonce Détroyat and Armand Silvestre rolls off the singers' collective tongues smoothly and complements the elegance of the score. Let's not forget that an integral component of the presentation is the sterling singing of the Odyssey Opera chorus, and neither should the faultless execution of the score by the orchestra be overlooked.

Though Henry VIII is grounded in the French opera tradition, moments arise that evoke Italian opera too. On a side-note, Saint-Saëns' creation also serves as a reminder of how much any work is part of a centuries-spanning continuum. While listening to the opera, I couldn't help but begin to hear subtle connections between it and La Belle et la Bête (1994), almost as if to suggest Philip Glass had spent a weekend wholly absorbing his predecessor's creation before writing his own; the ascending and descending melodic patterns that surface in the second act's fourth scene sound straight out of Glass's playbook, for instance. As different as the two works are in style and scope, common to both are classical elegance in the score and sumptuousness in the vocal writing. Aside from whatever ties Henry VIII might or might not have to other works, the mere fact of it finally being available in its complete form as a physical document is alone cause for celebration.

July 2022