Despite an all-too-short career. Henry Purcell (1659-95) wrote memorable music for the church, court, domestic music market and for the stage. His stage music has received ample attention from scholars and performers in recent years, and deservedly so, for it is part of a colourful period in Errgland's history. The deprivations of the Commonwealth, during which stage performances were severely restricted, led to a burst of theatrical activity following Charles II`s ascendancy to the throne in 1660. Restoration audiences appeared to have had an insatiable appetite for music and dance, for most plays of the period include numerous incidental songs and instrumental pieces, many of which were cleverly incorporated into the dramatic framework.
Although Purcell wrote music for no fewer than 42 plays, he is best remembered for his fire larger stage works. The first of these, Dido and Aeneas, the only all-sung opera which Purcell wrote, was performed at Josias Priest's girls' school in Chelsea in 1689; this may have been preceded by a performance at court earlier in the decade. Purcell's other stage works fall into that peculiarly English category of semi- or dramatic operas, which can best be described as spectacular plays with a substantial amount of music and dance. They featured a two-tiered cast in which the principal actors did not sing, but were instead frequently serenaded by minor characters and troupes of additional dancers and singers in fanciful garb and guise. These works should not be seen as imperfect or flawed operas, for they were not regarded an such: Purcell's contemporaries relished the mix of spoken and sung drama, and did not take to all-sung opera in a big way until the arrival of Handel in London nearly twenty years after The Fairy Queen's premiere in 1692.
The The Fairy Queen was first performed at the Queen's Theatre, Dorset Garden on 2 May 1692. Although the total number of performances is not known, contemporaneous writings suggest that it was highly popular. The work was revived at Dorset Garden Theatre on 16 February 1693 with a few additional musical numbers, most notably the song and Drunken Poet's Scene in Act I, "Ye gentle spirits” in Act III and “The Plaint” in Act V. This recording follows the 1693 text.
The score for The Fairy Queen was lost within a few years of its premiere: revivals were thus limited to the performance of afew songs in concert and the staging of a single act on 1 February l703 at Drury Lane Theatre. The score was not recovered until the beginning of the 20th century, when it emerged in the collection of The Royal Academy of Music, London. Published song collections identity some of the original singers, and reveal that they covered several roles each, a practice which has been observed in tlrrs recording.

Many Restoration stage works were adaptations of earlier plays. and The Fairy Queen was no exception, for it was based upon Shakespeare's A Midsummer Nicht's Dream. Although retaining much of the original plot concerning the four star-crossed lovers and the intrigues of Titania and Oberon, the adaptor (probably Betterton himself) seems to have taken unpardonable liberties, for not only is a substantial portion of Shakespeare's text cut or altered, but none of his songs were set by Purcell. The added musical masques may seem, at first glance, to be entirely tangential to the drama. Why would a professional actor or writer be tempted to tamper with the work of one of the world's greatest dramatists?
Shakespeare's text, in its original form, did not conform to Restoration tastes. Indeed, the diarist Samuel Pepys described a 1662 performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream as ‘the most insipid ridiculous play that ever I saw in my life.” In Pepy's time, dramatic works which integrated the songs, dances, scenes and machines of the court masque were highly popular: Restoration audiences would expect to see wondrous visions, not merely hear them described in purple prose. Indeed, both the prologue and preface to The Fairy Queen allude to this demand for music, dance, scenes and fancy costumes. Trap doors enabled furies and demons to rise and sink, and elaborate machinery allowed gods to descend in gold-gilted chariots. Sets of grooves on the stage floor permitted the rapid change of sliding scenery, which was always done in full view of the audience, for the curtain was not drawn during the performance. Although the emphasis on spectacle was not new, as the elaborate descriptions for the early 17th-century court masques designed by Inigo Jones attest, it was a recent development in the public theatres.
Dance formed an important part of the evening's entertainrnent, and Purcell was fortunate to have the most acclaimed dancing master of the time, Josias Priest, who choreographed all of Purcell’s major stage works, as a colleague. Priest worked in all the current dancing styles, which ranged from the elegant cunring courtly poses and floor patterns of the rninuet to the more varied and picturesque postures required for the technically challenging grotesque dances, such as that for the cane chairs in Dioclesian, or for the monkeys in The Fairy Queen. Priest's talent in using his whole body to convey a character was remarked upon by his colleagues.
John Downes, prompter at Dorset Garden Theatre, confirms the appetite of his contemporaries for multimedia entertainments, for he rernarks that The Fairy Queen was superior “in Ornarnents" to Pnrcell's earlier dramatic works, "especially in Cloaths, for all the Singers and Dancers, Scenes, Machines and Decorations” were "most profusely set off”; the music and dances were "excellently perform'd”. The expense of these spectaculars was formidable, for despite the fact that “the Court and Town were wonderfully satisfy'd” with The Fairy Queen, “the Expences in setting it out being so great, the Company got very little by it."
The lavish care devoted to the visual aspects of stage production caused dissension within the theatre. Colley Cibber a young actor in the Dorset Garden company, grumbled that "every aspect of the Theatrical Trade has been sacrific'd to the necessary fitting out [of] these tall ships of Burthen [dramatic operas] that were to bring home the Indies. Plays were of course neglected, Actors held cheap, and slightly dress'd, while Singers and Dancers were better paid, and enrbroider'd. These Measures, of course, created Murmurings on one side, and Ill-humour and Contempt on the other." English actors were fated to he malcontents, as the taste for sensual splendour did not abate.
Sensuality was indulged on both sides of the proscenium arch, in a heady atmosphere in which women, both as performers and spectators, came to play an increasing role. Early arrivals at the theatre could listen to the First and Second Music while buying their oranges and gossiping with their neighbours. Romantic intrigues loomed large, and courtesans scandalized their more proper neighbours by wearing masks to facilitate their flirting. During the performance members of the audience even wandered unto the stage; hence the reference to “Beau-skreens” in the Prologue. It is a wonder they were not run down by the elaborate rnachinery. Indeed, theatrical managers often had to issue pleas requesting that the spectators keep clear of the stage and passageways.

In A Midsummer Night's Dream, references to music and dance underline the changes in Titania’s and Oberon's fraught marital relationship: in II, i, Oberon is commanded to avoi his wife and her revellers if he cannot “patiently dance in our round” and in IV i, they mark their reconciliation with a dance. Music is central to 0beron’s trick on Titania as well, for he squeezes the love juice on her eyes after she is lulled to sleep by a song. Bottom, by waking Titania with a song, becomes the first object she sees, and thus also the object of her affection. The final act of Shakespeare's play is amplified by two nuptial dances, one performed by the rustics whose play has iust entertained the Duke and his court, the other by Oberon and Titania.
In The Fairy Queen, the musical interludes, which are much more extensive than those in Shakespeare's play, draw upon the tradition of the court masque, in which the entertainments are meant to honour an important personage. In Act I, Titania’s Indian boy the subject of her tiff with jealous Oberon, is fêted with a pastoral song. “Come away". In Act II, the revels celebrate Titania's status as Queen. In Act III, Bottom, as Titania’s new amour, is treated to a full-blown fairy masque. The entertainment to celebrate Oberon's birthday in Act IV marks the reconciliation of the fairy couple. The Act V rnasque is a nuptial celebration for the mortal lovers which parallels the final dances in Shakespeare's play. The Restoration masque is notably cynical in tone, for Hymen grumpily refuses to bless the fickle and feckless lovers, and must be cajoled by a magnificent scene change into fulfilling his traditional function.
Despite the differences in staging traditions, The Fairy Queen preserves much of the flavour of Shakespeare's original play, which featured a cast of diverse characters, from Bottom the bumpkin to the aristocratic lovers, with the hapless and sometimes forlorn mortals being juxtaposed with the proud and mischievous fairies. Purcell’s songs and dances play a leading role in underlining the levels of contrast in the musical adaptation.
In Act I, the elegant contrapuntal duet, "Come, let us leave the town" is followed by the arrival of the drunken poet. This blundering bass, whose musical stutter was meant to allude to a contemporary of Purcell's, the poet Thomas D`Urfey; is tormented by graceful fairies whose lilting and graceful vocal style sets off the more robust efforts of their hapless victim. The rhythms, texture and melodic shape of "Trip it, trip it" suggests fairies dancing in a round; the staggering rhythms and jagged vocal style of the poet's declaration “I'm drunk" effectively depict the doddering drunkard. Although arguably the most tangential addition to the play, this scene is an effective piece of drama, for the fairies and poet constantly interact. The fluid musical structure, which moves effortlessly from air to chorus, freely mixed with colourful exchanges between the poet and his tormentors, is facilitated by Purcell’s characteristically English vocal style, in which recitative and aria are not as sharply differentiated as they would be in contemporaneous Italian opera.
The tenor air “Come all ye songsters", which opens the fairy revels in Act II, demonstrates Purcell’s more florid vocal style. Its ornate manner makes it an appropriate tribute to Titania's royal status. The instrumental pieces which frame the trio “May the God of Wit inspire" are highly picturesque, depicting singing birds and an echo by a deft use of rhythm and texture. "Sing while we trip it" and the fairy dance which follows are effectively evocative of the fairy world. The scotch snap rhythm with which Purcell sets the words "trip it" demonstrates his sensitivity to the gestural potential of music. The revels are succeeded by a night scene, in which the bright C major tonality of the fairy realm is replaced by the murkier sounds of C minor. The airs for Night, Mystery and Secrecy become progressively more decorative; Sleep's muted and syllabic "Hush, no more" is a rebuke of their sensual over-indulgence. The canonic structure of the “Dance for the Followers of Night” is quite extraordinary; perhaps Priest exploited the highly imitative music in the floor patterns and gestures of his dances.
In Shakespeare's play, Bottom's appreciation of music extends to a request for the "tongs and bones”; in The Fairy Queen he is fêted with courtly airs, elegant symphonies and fantastic scene changes. In providing such a marvellous entertainment for Bottom in Act III, Purcell and the textual adaptor are magnifying the joke of Titania's folly in loving such a bumpkin. Upon Titania’s command, the fairies prepare for the masque by changeing the scene to a great wood with rows of trees and a river. Two dragons make a bridge over the river "through which two Swans are seen in the river at a great distance". After the poignant air “If love’s a sweet passion”, a symphony accompanies the forward movement of the swans, who are transformed into fairies. Purcell has written an elegant gavotte for the fairies, which is followed by a vigorous entry for the savages who frighten them away (also known as the “Dance for the Green Men". The grotesque dance of the savages stems from the earlier court masque tradition, in which antic characters were introduced to provide a chaotic element; the restoration of order at the end of the masque was seen as a triumph of diplomatic and martial skills of the current monarch. By Purcell’s time, however, such scenes were introduced chiefly to display the mimic talents of the dancers and to provide a visual contrast with the more elevated portions of the entertainment.
The courtly atmosphere in Purcell's fairy masque is briefly resumed with “Ye gentle spirits of the air". Its ornate style contrasts with the Dialogue for Coridon and Mopsa which follows, in which the triadic melody and syllabic setting of the text establishes their rusticity. The "Dance for the Haymakers" is in a similar vein. Court and pastoral are united in die simple yet elegant air “When I have often heard young maids cornplaining”: courtiers, rustics and fairies can meet and mingle in the pastoral woodland setting.
Most appropriately, the music in Act IV which celebrates Oberon’s birthday, is the most regal in character, with trumpets providing a martial atmosphere. The extensive operung symphony accompanied yet another glorious scene change, in which a garden of fountains, complete with a bower, statues and marble columns was revealed. The fountains spouted real water, which fell "in mighty cascades to the bottom of the scene"; in the midst of the stage was “a very large Fountain, where the water rises about twelve foot”. Such fountain scenes continued to be a popular feature in London theatrical entertainments for some years to come.
The royal tribute, which culminates in the majestic chorus “Hail! Great parent!", is succeeded by a masque for the four seasons, a popular theme in contemporaneous French drama. As Roger Savage has suggested, this scene would have been inspired by the disruption of nature caused by the rift between Titania in Oberon: in A Midsummer Night's Dream, Titania alludes to the alteration of the seasons, in which “hoary-headed frosts / Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose". In The Fairy Queen, the musically distinct seasons celebrate the reunion of the regal fairy couple: spring sings an elegant and somewhat florid song, whereas summer is represented by a lively dance-like tune. Purcell's famed contrapuntal skills are demonstrated in the song for autunm, in which singer and bassline are engaged in an earnest dialogue. Winter is depicted by a slow descending chr'omatrc line which suggests an aged person bent double with cold: the ascending line which follows hints at a yearning for the sun, and warmth.
The final musical entertainment is meant not only as a wedding celebration, but aiso to dispel the scepticism of the Duke, who does not believe in fairies, Juno's arrival in a machine drawn by peacocks was a characteristic Restoration stage device. Most of the arias in this scene are florid and courtly in character; as suited the occasion.
The second part of the entertainment is directed toward Titania, as Oberon announces the next scene change thus:

Now let a new Transparent World be seen,
All Nature joyn to entertain our Queen.
Now we are reconcil'd, all things agree
To make an Universal Harmony.

An entry is danced while the scene darkens, then a symphony accompanies the illumination of the stage, which reveals a Chinese garden with arches, arhours, hanging planm and exotic fruits, birds and beasts. The lighting effect itself would have been quite a feat in an age still totally reliant on candles. The scene which follows unites oriental exoticism with pastoral delights; this is reflected in Purcell’s vocal lines, for “Thus the gloomy world” is highly ornate, whereas “Thus happy and free” receives a simple syllabic setting. The monkeys' dance in this scene is part of the grotesque stage tradition, and may have featured some gymnastic tumbling. The change of metre is a typical device in much anti-masque music, and would have provided the dancers with an opportunity to vary their comic gestures.
The choice of a chaconne as the final dance for 24 Chinese was probably influenced by Lullian French opera, which frequently ended with lengthy dances which were suitable for large numbers of performers, and thus would have formed an impressive finale. No matter how important the element of spectacle was to Restoration audiences, it is Purcell’s music which is celebrated here, for the score to The Fairy Queen reveals him to have been a true man of the theatre.