[ REHEARSAL NOTES ] LA CALISTO

5 June 2025. The beginning of June marks the annual reopening of the Théâtre de l’Archevêché and the uncovering of its tiered seating to welcome festivalgoers in less than a month. This year, La Calisto, an opera by Francesco Cavalli, opens the season and inaugurates this stage. After a week of musical rehearsals in Paris and ten days of staging rehearsals in Venelles — home to the Festival’s set-construction and costume-design workshops — the artists and creative teams are now taking possession of the venue.

6:30 PM – The early evening light bathes the stage of this courtyard theatre in splendour. As the continuo musicians of the Ensemble Correspondances — who will soon be joined by the rest of the orchestra — take their places in the pit, a joyful buzz fills the air. With the first notes of the harpsichord, harp, lute and positive organ, the central platform of the set slowly rotates: the wood-panelled semi-rotunda of an eighteenth-century sitting room gives way to a smaller drawing room made up of armchairs and a sofa. A chandelier descends from the ceiling into what is now a hollowed-out space; a door at the rear of the set opens to admit a flurry of footmen — still in trainers — and singers wearing morning coats over their shorts. The monumental fountain on the upstage wall of the Archevêché stands as a reminder of the  inherent theatricality of this magical site. Jetske Mijnssen, the production’s stage director, asks the performers to repeat their movements, in order to fix the speed at which they will enter. With her sunglasses perched on her head, she confers with Sébastien Daucé, under a large parasol shielding the orchestra from the sun. Music and blocking are adjusted; the stage managers carefully note all the technical cues.

In this freshly unveiled drawing room, Anna Bonitatibus makes her entrance. With an almost instinctive theatricality and the grandest of elegance, the mezzo-soprano embodies Juno entering her parlour, surrounded by her woodland deities (David Portillo, Théo Imart and José Coca Loza). The continuo already sounds rich and resonant in this still-empty courtyard; and even in rehearsal, the Italian vocalist’s full, focused timbre channels all of Juno’s fury and impatience with intensity and passion, under the approving eye of the conductor. Choreographer Dustin Klein adjusts the poise and bearing of each figure on stage. “Very good!” calls out Jetske Mijnssen, as her two assistants, following behind her, note that the scene has been approved. It is now Lauranne Oliva’s turn to appear — i.e. Calisto herself — and join Anna Bonitatibus. The young soprano portrays this delicate yet determined character with a combination of freshness and confidence. Jetske Mijnssen throws her entire being — with a physicality that is rare to see — into the work of fine-tuning every detail between the two women, as she seeks just the right expression and posture for this confessional scene. Things move quickly: the two singers run through their text in spoken form in order to integrate the different movements. Thanks to their strong dramatic skills, they are able to transition into the sung version just moments later. Their group dynamic as they work is remarkable: ideas fly in a multilingual environment that shifts between Italian (the language of the opera), English, German, French and Dutch — and all of them understand each other. Lauranne Oliva steps over the edge of the stage to ask Sébastien Daucé a question about the tempo of her recitative, and then returns for one final run-through of the sequence.

7:15 PM – A short break follows — with just enough time to fold away the parasols from the front of the stage, now that the sun has set — and another duo takes to the stage to rehearse a scene they have previously worked on in the studio. We now meet another of the opera’s couples: the shepherd Endymion (Paul-Antoine Bénos-Djian), who longs for the goddess Diana (Giuseppina Bridelli). Sébastien Daucé seems to have vanished for a moment, but the instrumentalists continue to support Bénos-Djian’s singing. This “dream of Endymion” casts a spell over the stage — and when we finally manage to look away from the scene, we spot Sébastien Daucé, on the hearth inside a fireplace on one wall of the set. He is equally mesmerised by the countertenor’s performance, and fears he may break the moment if he returns to the pit. Giuseppina Bridelli joins her partner for another moving duo, punctuated by the comic appearances of other characters — whose hiding places behind various set elements are rehearsed for several more minutes.

9:30 PM – A longer break has allowed night to fall. Many of the performers are now rehearsing a choreographed scene that harks back to the “Dance of the Bears” at the end of Act I. Dustin Klein has devised a sequence of stylised minuets and fast-paced farandoles. Through a series of colourful touches, the comedy of La Calisto continues in this dance sequence, while the rest of the team conducts lighting tests. The golden hues projected onto the set recreate the mood of a nocturnal ball. Alex Rosen (Jupiter) is, quite literally, the peacock of the courtyard; and everyone seems to be taking great pleasure in diligently rehearsing the complex dance. Dustin Klein oversees the session as Jetske Mijnssen maintains a watchful eye, so that none of the performers loses sight of their character’s dramatic intent. Despite the simplicity of the rehearsal costumes — tulle skirts, and high-heeled shoes for both the women and the men — you can already sense the scale of this sequence in performance.

11:30 PM – The stage lights, then those of the courtyard, are switched off. As you leave the theatre, you cannot help but glance toward the sky; in just a few minutes, Ursa Major — Calisto, transformed into the Great Bear — will shine above the balcony of the Archevêché.

Anne Le Berre