Jean-Philippe Rameau 1683-1764

Hippolyte et Aricie

‘My God, it has enough music for at least ten operas!’ exclaimed the composer André Campra in 1733 at the opening of Jean-Philippe Rameau’s first opera, Hippolyte et Aricie. Rameau, who had turned fifty that year, could hardly be classed as a beginner, but he had never before dared attempt a ‘tragédie lyrique’. The ghost of the great Jean-Baptiste Lully and his popular musical tragedies hung like a menacing shadow over French musical theatre. ‘You have to study this style of theatre over a long period before you can think of embarking upon it yourself’, wrote Rameau. ‘You must be able to bring each character to life, understand movement and dance, and know all about singing and acting.’

The subject of this opera is taken from classical antiquity, and has been dramatised by others, including Racine in his play Phèdre. While Theseus remains in the Underworld in a hopeless attempt to rescue a friend, his wife Phaedra pursues Hippolytus, Theseus’s son from a previous marriage. But he is in love with a young girl, Aricie. When Theseus returns, he unjustly accuses his son of paying court to Phaedra. The King curses his son, and calls upon the gods to avenge him. Revenge comes in the form of a monster which attacks Hippolytus. When everyone believes Hippolytus dead, Phaedra confesses her shameful behaviour and takes her own life. Then Hippolytus is found alive, and is reunited with his beloved Aricie.

It is astonishing how little a Baroque opera like Hippolyte et Aricie seems to have aged. On the contrary, its plea for tolerance still resonates. The gods who try to rule us throw up difficulties in our pursuit of true love. Should we put our trust in Diana, goddess of the hunt and purity, or obey Venus as she tries to persuade us of the pleasures of love? For Rameau, a child of the Enlightenment, the answer is clear: we cannot let ourselves be led by the gods, but must make our own choices. Rameau’s message has lost none of its relevance today.