Sir
Edward Elgar: The Dream of Gerontius
Sarah Connolly (Mezzo Soprano) James Oxley (Tenor)
Roderick Williams (Bass) Gloucester Choral Society,
The Regency Sinfonia conducted by Andrew Nethsingha,
Gloucester Cathedral 1.4. 2006 (JQ)
Gloucester Cathedral
is, together with the cathedrals of Hereford and
Worcester, one of the three homes of the oldest
music festival in the world, the Three Choirs Festival.
The Dream of Gerontius has been an integral part
of Three Choirs repertoire ever since 1902, when
it was performed at Hereford, under Elgar’s
baton, just two years after the disastrous première
in Birmingham. Since then it’s been performed
probably sixty times at Three Choirs Festival concerts.
Gloucester first heard the work at the 1910 Festival,
once again conducted by Elgar. This occasion was
notable also for the fact that Gerontius was preceded
by the first performance of Vaughan Williams’
Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, also conducted
by its composer. What a concert that must have been!
Since that 1910 performance Gloucester Cathedral
must have been the venue for countless performances
of Gerontius, many of them, of course, unconnected
with the Three Choirs. Indeed, I myself have had
the good fortune to sing in three performances of
the work in that wonderful building. The performance
by Gloucester Choral Society on April 1 must surely
have been one of the very finest of those many renditions.
Before commenting on the performance itself may
I say how strongly I applauded the decision of Andrew
Nethsingha to dispense with an interval between
Parts One and Two, other than for a brief pause
of two or three minutes. I was just as glad that
a specific request was made beforehand that the
audience refrain from applauding until the very
end of the work. This meant that any dissipation
of tension between the two parts of the work was
minimised. Surely all performances of Gerontius
should be given in this way?
Inevitably any performance of Gerontius stands or
falls chiefly by the quality of the soloists. Fortunately
the soloists for this performance had been chosen
with great care and all were on top form. The Gerontius,
James Oxley, has, happily, become something of a
regular at concerts in this part of the world but
on this occasion he surpassed all the previous excellent
performances that I’ve heard him give. Elgar
made very great demands on his tenor soloist in
writing the role of Gerontius. On the one hand the
singer needs an heroic, almost heldentenor, strength
for the Big Moments such as ‘Sanctus Fortis’
in Part One or ‘Take me away’ towards
the end of Part Two. However, the same singer needs
to be able to sing many extended passages, especially
in Part Two, with the sensitivity and intimacy of
a lieder singer. I thought Oxley met both challenges
superbly. His is a relatively light voice but there’s
no lack of steel and power when that’s required.
Throughout the whole evening his delivery was consistently
easy and clear. From my seat about two-thirds of
the way down the nave – a significant distance
in such a large acoustic – I could hear him
(and, indeed, the other soloists) with complete
clarity and every word carried. Above the stave
Oxley seemed to sing quite effortlessly, right up
to and including the top B flat at ‘In Thine
own agony’. Though he was required to project
into a very large building there was never the slightest
suspicion of forced tone and yet he had no difficulty
in riding Elgar’s large orchestra.
But besides sheer technical excellence, he brought
great intelligence and understanding to the music.
He made every word tell and his singing always had
great commitment. ‘Sanctus Fortis’ was,
as it should be, a highpoint. Here Oxley combined
manly strength with the requisite amount of vulnerability.
The dialogue with The Angel in Part Two was especially
satisfying. I thought that perhaps he didn’t
quite have enough dramatic weight for the opening
of ‘Take me away’ but that’s a
relatively small point when set against all the
many felicities of a deeply convinced and convincing
performance. On the evidence of this performance
I’d suggest that James Oxley has it in him
to become the outstanding exponent of this role
in his generation (record companies, please take
note!) and I’m very glad indeed to have heard
him as Gerontius.
Recently I reviewed
and very much enjoyed a recital CD by Sarah
Connolly and so I was keenly anticipating the chance
to hear her in one of the greatest mezzo roles in
oratorio. My expectations were more than met. In
reviewing her recital disc I praised her evident
ability to communicate with an audience. What was
obvious purely from hearing her was even more obvious
when the visual aspect was added. Here we had another
soloist who was just as keen and as able to engage
both with her audience and with the words and music
as were her two male peers. Miss Connolly has a
voice of great richness and a very impressive range.
She produced lovely sounds throughout the whole
compass of her voice and the high notes were thrillingly
sung, with no evidence of strain. Like her colleagues
she projected the words with great clarity at all
times. Passages such as ‘You cannot now cherish
a wish’ and ‘A presage falls upon thee’
were gloriously and expansively phrased while the
superbly atmospheric section, ‘There was a
mortal who is now above’, was floated beautifully.
After these comments you won’t be surprised
to hear that the Angel’s Farewell was radiant
and eloquent. There was only one minor oddity: a
distinctly odd pronunciation of the word “subvenite”
in the passage beginning ‘It is the voice
of friends around thy bed.’ It sounded like
an Anglicisation of the pronunciation but I’ve
never heard it done this way and I thought it didn’t
sound right. This, however, was a very minor blemish
in an otherwise wonderful performance.
It seems to me that any good bass soloist in Gerontius
should leave the audience lamenting that Elgar gave
the bass relatively little to do. This was certainly
true of Roderick Williams on this occasion. He has
tremendous physical presence and always looks the
part. He made a commanding and dignified Priest,
sending the Soul of Gerontius on its journey at
the end of Part One. The two bass solos in the work
are very different in character and in vocal demands.
In an ideal world one would have them sung by different
singers (as used to happen often in the early days
of the work’s history and is the case on the
famous and wonderful Heddle Nash/Sargent recording).
Inevitably, sheer economics make this an unrealistic
proposition nowadays but it does mean that often
a soloist does greater justice to one of the two
solos than the other. I felt this was the case here.
For all his considerable merits I didn’t think
Roderick Williams was quite as successful as the
Angel of the Agony. That role ideally calls for
a darker, more sonorous bass voice than he has at
his command. Once he reached that wonderful passage
‘Hasten, Lord, their hour and bid them come
to thee’ the tessitura suited him much better.
His singing of this second solo was very fine, overall,
but I just missed that last bit of dramatic punch,
which would have made it an unqualified success.
But it was still marvellous to hear a singer who
I greatly admire sing these two solos.
So the soloists were outstanding. What of other
aspects of the performance? The choir was splendid
throughout. I guess there were about 120 singers
in the chorus and it’s no mean feat for a
choir to project into such a large building over
a full Elgar orchestra. The choir had clearly been
prepared superbly by Andrew Nethsingha and their
singing was incisive and committed. I followed the
performance with a vocal score and it was evident
that great care had been taken to ensure that Elgar’s
copious instructions regarding dynamics were accurately
– but not pedantically – observed. When
it’s done like this it makes all the difference
and I take my hat off to the choir for some fervent
singing that was very faithful to Elgar’s
requirements. The great outburst at ‘Praise
to the Holiest’ was as thrilling as it should
be, both times it occurs and in that chorus I particularly
admired the lightness in the ¾ double choir
section that follows the second eruption of ‘Praise
to the Holiest’. Here the choir could have
been singing Bach, so cleanly and clearly did they
enunciate the notes. But this didn’t mean
the singing was lightweight, for the chorus built
to a superb, affirmative final climax.
The playing of the Regency Sinfonia was similarly
impressive. At the very start those cruelly exposed
first few bars were quite a bit louder than pianissimo,
which meant that an atmosphere of mystery was not
really established. However, the players were very
soon into their collective stride and the quality
of their playing and their attention to dynamic
detail gave much pleasure. The percussion section
had something of a field day in the Demon’s
Chorus but it was suitably thrilling and the music
can take it. I was most impressed by the number
of small instrumental details that registered quite
naturally during the course of the performance.
That’s no mean achievement in the acoustics
of the cathedral and this success owed much to the
skill of the players and, of course, to Andrew Nethsingha’s
balancing of his forces.
Overall I was most impressed with Mr. Nethsingha’s
grasp of the work and its structure. Just once or
twice I felt his tempi were a touch too fleet. One
such was in Part One at ‘Be merciful’
where the speed that was adopted meant that the
choir didn’t sound sufficiently supplicatory
and, crucially, that the orchestral bass line sounded
rushed, lacking the ideal implacable tread. At the
end of Part One, when the chorus follows the bass
solo with ‘Go in the name of Angels and Archangels’
I felt that the speed was a little excessive, meaning
that the choir’s quavers sounded too staccato.
Possibly this was an intentional choice of speed
to prevent muddy choral singing in the resonant
acoustic but I think a fractionally broader tempo
would have given the music more majesty at this
point.
Those two isolated examples apart, I felt that Nethsingha’s
pacing of the score was splendid. He observed virtually
all the many, often minute, modifications of tempo
that Elgar wrote into the score – not all
conductors do – and as a result his interpretation
sounded authentic and idiomatic. Crucially he seemed
to see the whole work in a single span and he shaped
both the details along the way and the overall piece
most convincingly. His decision regarding the question
of an interval, which I mentioned earlier, was surely
part of this vision. I thought his conception of
the piece and the evident detailed preparation of
the chorus that he’d done amounted to a pretty
significant achievement.
After he’d completed Gerontius Elgar famously
appended to the score a quotation beginning “This
is the best of me.” I think that the performers
in this concert could justifiably adopt those words
for themselves. Elgar and his masterpiece were very
well served indeed by this performance, which fully
deserved the ovation from the substantial audience,
of which I was glad to be a part.
John Quinn
Gloucester
Choral Society Website