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05/13/2026 Charles Silver: La Belle au bois dormant Guylaine Girard (Princess Aurore, The Queen), Julian Dran (The Prince, The Knight Errant), Kate Aldrich (Urgèle, Dame Gudule), Thomas Dolié (The King), Matthieu Lécroart (Barnabé), Clémence Tilquin (Jacotte, The Page, Fairy Primrose), Adrien Fournaison (Eloi, The Grand Seneschal, A Lord), Hungarian National Choir, Hungarian National Philharmonic Orchestra, Attila Falvay (concertmaster), Győrgy Vashegyi (conductor)
Recording: Béla Bartók Concert Hall of Műpa Budapest, Hungary (January 7‑9, 2025) – 128’57
Bru Zane BZ 1064 (Distributed by Naxos of America) – Book in French and English


The foundational structure surrounding this French opera turns back to Giambattista Basile’s Sun, Moon, and Talia of 1634; however, it’s likely Charles Perrault’s 1697 Histoires ou contes du temps passé laid a more concentrated context for Charles Silver’s unique musical construct which premiered on January 3, 1902 at the Grand-Théâtre de Marseille. While the score is legitimately an opéra, the music’s ramifications are far-reaching: namely into the category of féerie lyrique (an “operatic extravaganza”). M. Silver’s use of a comical constraint (through the characters, Jacotte and Barnabé) adds a “refreshing uplift” to this old‑fashioned fairy tale.
Anchored in Russian origin, Charles Silver, however, was born in Paris on April 16, 1868. In 1891 he was awarded the coveted Premier Grand Prix de Rome for the lyrical drama, L’Interdit, having previously studied at the Conservatoire de Paris under the tutelage of Jules Massenet and Théodore Dubois.
Silver’s œuvre loosely follows Perrault’s plotline; however, the spindle prick is replaced by a “kiss” to set “the ball rolling”. The composer blends his own magical creations, though Massenet “punctuations” and majestic Dubois remarks bleed into the score: this speaks to early French Romantic opera (à la Auber, Meyerbeer and Gounod), yet La Belle au bois dormant possesses some extravagant energies which bring to bear modern, turn-of-the-century Puccini; however, a verismo opera it is not! The notion of a vision de conte de fées speaks volumes: Győrgy Vashegyi’s delicate use of beautiful harp roulades, flute trills, pixilated celeste and a dulcet cello entrée to The Prince (ref: Act II, Scene XII) helps turn back the clock to Glazunov’s 1898 Raymonda.
The opera’s taut libretto, written by MM. Michel Carré and Paul Collin, is evidenced in the briskly-summarized “Prologue”, setting an amiable pace for the remainder of the score. There’s a pleasant mixture of voices which add to the “layered dynamics” within: Guylaine Girard’s radiant platinum-threaded voice unerringly reaches dramatic jumps to high notes with utmost ease while Julien Dran’s iridescent tenor voice penetrates a distinguishable clarion energy and positivism through the two characters of The Prince and The Knight Errant (...and of particular delight is The Prince’s air, “Quel calme autour de moi!”). Long‑time Bru Zane contributor, Maine‑native Kate Aldrich has a nice counterweight with her smoky mezzo voice which adds to the dramatic tension inside the fairy Urgèle and Dame Gudule. “Warmth and richly tendered” can reflect the tones presented by Thomas Dolié as The King. Fulfilling the whimsical sector is Clémence Tilquin’s mildly-flinty coruscations as Javotte, alongside the pleasantly jocular fancies of Barnabé, portrayed by Matthieu Lécroart. Adrien Fournaison assumes three different rôles with a banner of demure equilibrium.
Enclaves of dramatic strength point at Puccini reminders (think Tosca), such as the prologue’s “Entrée d’Urgèle”, the “Malédiction d’Urgèle” of Act I and “Urgèle’s Cave” in Act III. Even a Wagnerian strength greets Act II, Tableau III with majestic horns. Spots of provincial charm yield reminisces of Gounod’s Mireille and even Bizet’s “Farandole” from L’Arlésienne in the “Ronde” of Act II. Unsurprisingly, Ravel can be anticipated with its ethereal veils, as heard during Act III’s “Pantomime". Charles Silver also penned ballet music (“Ballet général”), providing a genteel waltz‑like divertissement that pulsates with a brevis castanet compartment.
Three words come to mind when describing La Belle au bois dormant: “refreshing”, “revealing” and “inventive”. Theatrically-wise, it would take a lot of insight and energies to bring this composition to the stage...
...yet, it could be an amazing creation. A fabulous recording.
Christie Grimstad
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