Léo Delibes’ Flower Duet from Lakmé (1883)

Léo Delibes (1836–1891) was a French Romantic composer, best known for his ballets and operas. His works include the ballets Coppélia (1870) and Sylvia (1876), both of which were key works in the development of modern ballet and remain core works in the international ballet repertoire, and the opera Lakmé (1883), which includes the well-known “Flower Duet“. I say “well-known”; it’s possible that you know it without knowing you know it (although you may need to wait for the 1.05 minute mark before it clicks). Although Delibes’ name may be less famous today than other contemporary French composers such as Berlioz, Debussy or Ravel, the melody he has bequeathed is a gem.

Lakmé was Delibes’ attempt at a serious opera, having composed several light comic opérettes in the 1850s and 1860s. The opera combines many orientalist aspects that were popular at the time: an exotic location (similar to other French operas of the period, such as Bizet’s Les pêcheurs de perles and Massenet’s Le roi de Lahore), a fanatical priest, mysterious Hindu rituals, and “the novelty of exotically colonial English people”. The stuff that would probably discomfit modern sensibilities but which in 1883 was firmly de rigueur.

The opera includes the Flower Duet (“Sous le dôme épais“) for soprano and mezzo-soprano, performed in Act 1 by Lakmé, the daughter of a Brahmin priest, and her servant Mallika. Here we see it performed by soprano Sabine Devieilhe and mezzo-soprano Marianne Crebassa.

Incidentally, have you ever wondered how foreign language poems still rhyme when translated into English? Of course, this is where translation has to be creative in its own right. The Flower Duet provides a case in point. See how Theodore T Barker, in 1890, turned the original French lyrics into singable English, preserving the form and rhyme:

French lyrics
Viens, Mallika, les lianes en fleurs
Jettent déjà leur ombre
Sur le ruisseau sacré
qui coule, calme et sombre,
Eveillé par le chant des oiseaux tapageurs

Literal English
Come, Mallika, the flowering lianas
already cast their shadow
on the sacred stream
which flows, calm and dark,
awakened by the song of rowdy birds.

Singable English
Come, Mallika, the flowering vines
Their shadows now are throwing
Along the sacred stream,
That calmly here is flowing;
Enlivened by the songs of birds among the pines.

Now enjoy the music…

Leo Delibes

Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais’s Auf Wiedersehen, Pet (1983)

If you grew up in Britain in the seventies, you would be well-versed in the comedic TV output of writers Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais: Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads? (1974-1976) and Porridge (1974-1977) were a staple of whichever night they were broadcast. I loved those shows of course, but in 1983 the pair launched a comedy-drama so replete with character and brilliant dialogue that it stands out for me as a masterpiece: Auf Wiedersehen, Pet.

Seven English construction workers leave an unemployment-hit England to search for employment overseas and find themselves living and working together on a building site in Düsseldorf. The “magnificent seven” characters were Dennis (Tim Healy), Neville (Kevin Whately), Oz (Jimmy Nail), Barry (Timothy Spall), Moxy (Christopher Fairbank), Bomber (Pat Roach) and Wayne (Gary Holton). I don’t know how the casting process works, but they struck gold with this group of actors; they displayed an on-screen chemistry and authenticity that warmed the hearts of the viewing public.

The triumvirate of Dennis, Neville and Oz provide the core of the group due to their Geordie origins and shared trade as brickies, though the three couldn’t be more different: whilst Dennis provides the common sense and pragmatic leadership, Neville is an inexperienced and homesick fish out of water, and Oz…well, what can we say about Oz? No filters or self-consciousness, blunt and irascible, blatantly xenophobic tendencies, a serial absconder from his missus, Oz is no angel (and a constant source of angst to the others)…but hilarious nonetheless.

Barry, an electrician from the Black Country, loves to expound boringly but charmingly on the diverse range of topics he’s read about, which are usually of no interest to the others because they don’t involve beer or women. Wayne the Cockney womaniser of the group, Moxy the slightly odd and usually under-the-weather Scouser, and Bomber, the gentle Bristolian giant who nonetheless is well-capable of looking after himself, complete the group.

The key word for me about Auf Wiedersehen, Pet is “authentic” – the day-to-day banter on site, in “barracks”, and out on the town, feels real and it’s a joy to watch. Here’s a montage of typical Auf Wiedershen, Pet fare.

The Auf Wiedersehen, Pet “Magnificent Seven”