‘In my whole life I will not hear another piece of music
so beautiful, and even if it had lasted three hours longer, and even
if the stink and sweat-bath had been much worse, I would not have minded.’
- thus a member of the audience at the first performance of ‘The Creation’
in 1799, and it is certain that Saturday night’s audience at the Proms
were reminded anew of this work’s wondrous beauty, even if they still
had to endure, not exactly a sweat-bath, but a less than ideally cool
environment: a disappointment to some after the alleged cool-as-cucumbers
ambience of the first night. Had the spanking new AC system given up
after one airing? Or, as I suspect, did some of the audience on that
first night simply object to being ‘cold’ (i.e. not bathed in sweat)
– it being a pre-requisite of being British that one must suffer, one
especially relevant here at this most self-consciously British of our
festivals? Further reports on this vital topic to come after next week’s
concerts, but for now back to Haydn.
The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment’s declared
aim is to combine period authenticity with contemporary values, and
this increasingly eminent band certainly lived up to that claim on this
occasion, as it did to another of its specialities, which is the ability
to respond flexibly and sensitively to the direction of a wide variety
of conducting styles. Sir Charles Mackerras clearly has strong views
about this work, particularly in terms of contrasts in dynamics and
of ambitious decorations required from the singers, and his own demanding
standards clearly inspired the players who responded with real fire,
apart from a few peculiar raspings from the lower brass instruments.
The Choir of the Enlightenment sang with gusto although I felt that
there were occasions when I would have liked a more full-throated approach;
once or twice I sensed some of that genteel spirit with which Haydn
is frequently associated but which isn’t really appropriate for this
particular work. However, none of that was evident at the crucial moments
of ‘Es werde Licht, und es ward Licht’ and ‘Vollendet ist das grosse
Werk,’ the latter being notable for the freshness of its attack.
Those choral passages may be the most overtly Handelian
parts of ‘The Creation’ but it is in the solo parts that Haydn’s greatness
and individuality really shine through, and this concert offered a team
of soloists which it would be very difficult to imagine being bettered
on any platform in the world. John Relyea’s fine-grained bass-baritone
is ideal for this music, and he phrased his opening ‘Und der Geist Gottes…’
superbly; his temperament is clearly a serious one, and he was at his
best in the more solemn of Raphael’s narratives, missing perhaps a little
of the humour of such lines as ‘Am Boden das Gewürm,’ although
his low D is there, if not absolutely solid. As Adam, he sang ‘Nun is
die erste Pflicht erfüllt’ most nobly, and the duet with Eve was
delectable, even if he seemed a bit too shy to look at his ‘Holde Gattin.’
This was a notable Proms debut from a fine young singer whose forthcoming
Covent Garden performances in Semele and Lucia di Lammermoor
should be anticipated with delight.
Paul Groves is a tenor well known to opera audiences,
and it is surprising that the coming season will provide only the first
chance for ROH audiences to hear his remarkable Tamino. The tenor part
in ‘The Creation’ is frequently given to light-voiced, sweetly lyrical
singers, but when a more robust tenor such as Groves takes it on, the
results are remarkable; this is a voice for Florestan as well as for
Belmonte, and his properly heroic timbre was heard right from his first
moment at ‘ Und Gott sah das Licht…’ He sang ‘Mit Würd und Hoheit
angetan’ superbly, with ringing, golden tone as well as the most beautifully
tender pianissimi in the final section, and his diction and phrasing
throughout were exemplary, nowhere more so than in ‘Aus Rosen wolken
bricht,’ where he gave such tender emphasis to ‘Seht das beglückte
Paar’ and such ideally heroic declamation to the closing lines.
The audience’s favourite was clearly the soprano Christiane
Oelze, who was very nearly given applause after ‘Nun beut die Flur,’
but we collectively thought the better of it after Mackerras led firmly
into the next number. Here is a soprano who has everything; a lovely,
lyrical voice which is meltingly tender rather than merely creamy; perfect
diction, obvious intelligence and musicality, and a stage presence and
bearing that are both dignified and animated. London audiences do not
hear enough of her in concert and recital, although she will add to
her list of Glyndebourne roles with Ilia under Simon Rattle next season;
it continues to mystify me that we do not see her at the Wigmore every
season – it’s high time she became one of ‘the usual suspects.’
I have previously compared Oelze to Lucia Popp, and
I stand by that accolade, but in this piece, the most obvious comparison
is of course with Janowitz. Mackerras certainly made his soprano work
to achieve the desired effects, and it is enormously to her credit that
she not only managed the most florid trills I’ve ever come across in
the soprano arias here, but made every word tell in addition to producing
liquid, ardent tone. When you listen to Janowitz sing ‘Mit Staunen sieht
das Wunderwerk’ you’re aware that this is a wonderful, ‘whipped-cream’
sound, but compared to Oelze the diction is indistinct, and in such
moments as that delightful ‘girrt’ during the ‘dove’ music in ‘Auf starkem
Fittiche’ Janowitz is simply singing, whereas Oelze is making the words
come alive. ‘Nun beut die Flur’ gave us ambitious trills sung with apparently
careless ease, serene phrasing and scrupulous care for words, and provided
the memorable high point of this superb concert, rapturously received
by an audience who, like that very first one in 1799, would not have
objected if the evening had lasted another three hours.
Melanie Eskenazi
Return to:
Music on the Web