Morte di Lucretia

Regarded as one of the most important composers of French opera at the turn of the 18th century (after Lully but before Rameau), Michel Pignolet de Montéclair was born in modest circumstances in northern France. The suffix “de Montéclair” refers to a fortress in his hometown, Andelot, and was not his by birth; he added it on arrival to Paris in 1689 for the same purpose Ludwig Beethoven added the “van”: self-promotion. In the last years of the 17th century Michel was attached to a French nobleman and had a chance to travel and study in Italy. He finally settled in Paris in 1700 and took a position playing string double bass in the famed opéra orchestra. Montéclair was an early exponent of the double bass, and it is certain that he was a driving force behind introducing it into French orchestras.
Though his name is not widely known today, Montéclair made substantial contributions to numerous fields of music, including ornamentation and violin technique. He was influential as both composer and teacher during and just after his lifetime. Shortly before his death he began receiving a royal pension—testimony to the high esteem he must have earned in Parisian musical life. Tonight we will hear Lucretia, one of the four Italian cantatas Montéclair composed. His cantatas were a major influence on Rameau, particularly in the use of orchestral color as a dramatic device, though they are very rarely heard today (with the possible exception of his Jephte). The titular heroine of Montéclair’s cantata is one of the most celebrated in history and has received a compelling recitation at the hands of Rome’s greatest historian, Livy.
Soldiers gather round a fire during a break in the fighting to compare the merits of their wives. Collatinus, husband of Lucretia, feels certain that his wife is the most virtuous, and upon prize inspection his claim holds true. For while the other wives are engaged in feasting and flirting, Lucretia sits at home, toiling away at her loom until late in the night. One of the jealous husbands, Sextus Tarquinius, returns a few days later to take away Lucretia’s virtue and her chastity by force. Rather than live in such a state, even though the outrage was committed against her will, Lucretia takes her own life; in Roman morality, those who have lost their honor must die. The monstrous act of Tarquinius was later regarded as the final outrage done by the early royal family of Rome, and the expulsion of the Tarquin kings soon followed.
Montéclair’s setting of this tale confirms his mastery of orchestration and harmonic nuance. An opening presto introduction in A major leads directly to the first recitative and aria, the latter an impassioned largo in E minor. Touches of an agitated, stile concitato appear at Lucretia’s inward turn, as she chastises herself for not seeing clearly what must now be done. The “courage” aria returns to a more buoyant, animated state, and the voice’s leaping figures embrace fully the character’s call for bold action.

(c) Jason Stell