A New Take on Tenebrae

With Couperin’s Leçons de Ténèbres and Lalande’s Miserere, this new recording by Louis-Noël Bestion de Camboulas, at the head of the ensemble Les Surprises, offers a bold and introspective reimagining of the Good Friday tradition. Performed by an ensemble of male voices, the program recreates the atmosphere of a nocturnal monastic service—between silence, ornamentation, psalmody, and sacred drama. A free spiritual journey, suspended between shadow and light. 

The choice of male voices gives this program an unusual, monastic tone. What led you to this decision? What kind of colours were you hoping to share? 

Exactly that—I wanted to imagine a soundscape for the Leçons de Ténèbres as they might have been heard in a male monastery. Today, these works are often associated with female voices, almost “angelic,” with highly florid ornamentation. But the ornate music of the 17th and 18th centuries wasn’t reserved for women’s voices. Take Michel Lambert, for example—an excellent composer and renowned singer. He was known for highly ornamented, melismatic music, both in the secular realm with his courtly airs (which he performed himself, accompanying himself on the theorbo) and in the sacred realm with his Leçons de Ténèbres. 

Our recording project also fits into a continuity: a few years ago, we recorded the Méditations pour le Carême (for three male voices) and several motets by Brossard (released on Ambronay Editions). It’s a program we’ve performed often in concert, and it’s left a strong impression—on us and on audiences—because the timbre of male voices supported by basso continuo is quite distinctive: full of overtones, capable of being extremely brilliant yet also very dark. 

For this new project, I also wanted to draw on something François Couperin himself says in the preface to his Leçons de Ténèbres: “although the music is written in treble clef, all kinds of voices may sing them.” This allows for a refreshing take on pieces typically performed by sopranos, giving them a darker hue and one that better reflects the tone of the Lamentations of Jeremiah. 

Rather than reconstruct a historically accurate liturgy, you’ve imagined a freer spiritual journey, centered on night, silence, and psalmic speech. What kind of atmosphere were you hoping to evoke for the listener? 

It would be pointless today to try and recreate a Leçons de Ténèbres service exactly as it was in the past—both the duration and the ritual are far removed from our habits. That said, I still wanted to place the Leçons within a musical arc that includes other pieces traditionally sung during those services: Antiphons and Responsories for the Office of Tenebrae (which, with their apparent simplicity, provide a striking contrast to the ornate writing of the Leçons), and a Miserere as a conclusion. I chose the Miserere by Lalande, which I find magnificent. In the version by Sébastien de Brossard, the psalm verses alternate between a soloist and a kind of “monastic choir” that responds in faux-bourdon. Once again, the alternation between complex, ornamented writing—at times almost dance-like—and the archaic faux-bourdon style creates a compelling contrast. 

This album is truly a path between darkness and light, a journey that remains relatively free, but one in which I sought to give maximum dramatic weight. I believe the theatrical element in this music is crucial: the texts themselves carry immense dramatic power, and the composers and performers of this repertoire were often masters of theatrical music. 

Campra and Bernier: a shared psalm  

If you had to choose a single excerpt to introduce this album to someone unfamiliar with Couperin, Lalande, or even the Leçons de Ténèbres, what moment would you share—and why? 

I would choose the beginning of François Couperin’s Leçons de Ténèbres for two voices (track 16). Because in just a few bars, he manages to condense the full depth of these Leçons. It begins with the letter “Jod,” where the two voices and the continuo intertwine magically, then follows a recitative where each solo voice comes across almost like spoken text, and finally the two voices join again in a highly theatrical effect that forms a perfect arch before leading into the next letter, “Caph,” where they blend once more. That’s why I selected this excerpt for the album teaser: two minutes of sheer rapture!