A bit of a late review for this one, occasioned by
illness: I had intended to go to Liverpool to hear a ‘traditional’ performance
of this work on January 4th and then to write a piece about the differences
between the two approaches, but that did not happen and I had to be
content with this unusual, yet ‘authentic’ version.
As is well known, Handel himself tinkered with the
score, often altering parts to suit different singers and so on, and
one should probably not be too shocked to hear a ‘new’ version of the
work, but on this occasion I did find it surprising that Stephen Layton
had decided to make the changes he did – he cut certain parts (such
as the duet for tenor and alto, ‘O death where is thy victory’) and
when this sort of thing is done, one assumes the reason is brevity;
however, this was a very slow ‘Messiah’ indeed, with some tempi so languid
that things threatened to grind to a halt once or twice, and the singers
experienced a little difficulty with sustaining their lines. Nevertheless,
this was as engaging, beautifully played and sung a ‘Messiah’ as you
could possibly hope to hear.
The 26 – voice Polyphony may not exactly be Shaw’s
desired ‘choir of heathens,’ but they certainly do attack the choruses
with ‘unembarrassed sincerity of dramatic expression.’ This is a very
special, highly individual choir, with its warmth, sheen, clean attack
and direct phrasing, and heard to greatest advantage in parts such as
‘Their sound is gone out’ and ‘Worthy is the Lamb,’ where the texture
is so smooth and the enunciation so crisp that it’s hard to imagine
more ideal singing. A similar level of precision was evident in the
playing, by the Academy of Ancient Music, apart from one or two instances
of rather squally continuo, with the strings producing some especially
glowing moments during ‘And the glory of the Lord.’
The four soloists were amongst the most eminent of
current Handel singers, with Michael Chance probably the pick of them.
Given Layton’s re-arrangements it felt rather fortunate that ‘But who
may abide’ had not been assigned to another singer, since it was sung
with the sort of poise and confident virtuosity that reminds you exactly
why Handel rewrote it to show off the voice of his male alto, Guadagni.
‘O thou that tellest’ was a little thinner in tone here and there, but
still wonderfully fluent and dramatic, and Chance even managed to sing
‘He was despised’ in a genuinely moving way despite having to adopt
so slow a tempo that it was almost funereal.
David Wilson’s bass displayed his customary confidence
and dramatic power, although I would have liked a little more fire in
‘The trumpet shall sound.’ Gillian Keith was the very fine soprano soloist;
she sings very sweetly, rather in the manner of Emma Kirkby, but the
tone of her lower register lacks colour, and her voice seems to need
darkening a little – she is currently studying with Ian Partridge and
Barbara Bonney, who seem the ideal choice to guide this very promising
young singer; is she also going for the Bonney look, one wonders?
James Gilchrist sings the tenor part with as much passion
as he can muster, and it’s not really his fault that this isn’t a great
deal, since his is a rather dry, if attractive voice, and he does not
really excite you with his trills in ‘Ev’ry valley’ although he phrases
his ‘Comfort ye’ s beautifully. His divisions at ‘potter’s vessel’ are
secure rather than thrilling, confirming an interpretation which may
neglect the theatricality of oratorio but which satisfies by its innate
musicality.
These annual performances by Polyphony and the Academy
at St. John’s may fall into that dubious tradition by which ‘Messiah’
is as much associated with Christmas as ‘The Nutcracker,’ but they also
remind us that this great work has found here the kind of advocates
of which Shaw dreamed but never heard, and even the hackneyed ‘Hallelujah’
sounded fresh and enthusiastic – as someone said, you stand up for that
only because you can’t ascend to Heaven on the spot.
Melanie Eskenazi