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Bach, St Matthew Passion: Soloists, Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, Royal Festival Hall, London, 9.4.2009 (GDn)

Mark Padmore - Evangelist
Roderick Williams - Christus
Amy Freston - soprano
Laura Mitchell - soprano
Christianne Stotijn - mezzo-soprano
Iris Julien - mezzo-soprano
Robert Murray - tenor
Charles Gibbs - bass


Mark Padmore has a vision for the St. Matthew Passion, but he’s not going to be imposing it on anybody. Instead, he has assembled the forces of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment and a small but diverse group of singers and asked them what they think. The idea is collective interpretation, liberating the performers from the constraints of the conductor’s baton and asking them instead to invest something personal in their performance. It relies on an intimate knowledge of the work by everybody involved and also on a very generous rehearsal schedule. The results will not be to everybody’s taste, but Padmore’s stated aim is to have us hear the work afresh and he certainly manages that. It’s not a 100% success, but what it lacks in precision and interpretive focus it more than compensates for in its details, individual movements of staggering intensity and committed performances (interpretations in the best sense) from each and every performer.

The same forces have previously approached the St John Passion from a similar angle, and Padmore also has some form when it comes to controversial readings of the Matthew. He sang the Evangelist in Katie Mitchell’s staging of the work at Glyndebourne, a production that was universally condemned in the press, but which forms a significant precedent for this, I suspect, better received approach. The Glyndebourne staging was set in the aftermath of a modern day school massacre (Dunblane was the model) with the bereaved parents playing out a complex series of emotions through Bach’s music of loss and suffering. Like that staging, this reading of the Matthew elevates the personal over the collective, and where issues of grieving and loss are concerned, this is surely an appropriate balance.

It’s a resolutely democratic approach, but it is inevitable that some will always be more equal than others. Padmore is the star of the show; he has achieved the dream of any Evangelist and has taken over the conductor’s role, or at least some aspects of it, to facilitate the performance. It is not clear quite how much musical leadership he contributed. It is clear, however, that such a project would never have taken place without the power of his celebrity: he is, without question, one of the great Evangelists of our time. His voice has the ideal combination of steady support and lightness of timbre, and the sheer artistry with which he intones even the most prosaic of narrative texts (‘Jesus sprach zu ihm’) is a delight.

Roderick Williams as Christus is in the same league. He has the commanding stage presence that the part requires and a distinctive and versatile voice. Padmore and Williams is a dream team combination, and even those with reservations about the interpretation are unlikely to consider themselves short changed as a result of these two central performances.

Modern scholarship suggests, although by no means insists, that Bach’s original performances used only eight singers with one voice to a part. This is the approach taken here, although more for reasons of interpretation than historical verisimilitude. It allows a more operatic approach; the singers are a diverse group, their performances made all the more varied by the absence of stylistic control from a conductor. The sopranos, Amy Freston and Laura Mitchell, contrast each other spectacularly, the former cool and collected, the latter expressive in the extreme. The mezzos are similarly distinct, Iris Julien the more reserved, Christianne Stotijn the more expressive. Robert Murray and Charles Gibbs are employed mainly as the lower voices of the second choir, but their solo appearances, Gibbs as Peter and Pilate, Murray with an extended aria in Part II,  allow each to make distinctive contributions.

Interactions within the orchestra take place as chamber music. At least, this is the idea, it is inevitable that details of ensemble will be lost in the absence of a conductor. But it would be all too easy to play it safe in this situation, to set the tempos on autopilot and obsess about balances of timbre and dynamics. The interpretation succeeds because every member of the ensemble is committed to its philosophy of shared responsibility. Balance is an occasional problem, especially as the woodwind never really achieve a consensus as to the dynamic levels for their obbligato duets. The continuo lower strings excel, raised up at the back of the stage they are able to project without unduly imposing themselves. But the consummate proficiency of the continuo players is a reminder that the orchestra knows this music inside out. The interpretation maybe a radical departure, but it is founded on a deep knowledge of the work, and on immense reserves of collective experience of presenting it in a wide range of contexts.

The interpretation wears its experimental credentials on its sleeve. Padmore and co. are not out to compete with accepted wisdom about the work but rather to offer an alternative view. The parts work better than the whole, which lacks musical architecture. Instead of a mega-cantata of interrelated movements we are offered a flowing narrative, in which the music enriches the individual episodes of the story. And it is an approach where narrative comes first. One of the major advantages of the small vocal ensemble is that every word of the libretto is audible. Padmore has apparently insisted (so much for democracy) that the players study the text and interpret the music with its liturgical and narrative functions in mind. Even with my schoolboy German this contributed greatly to the work’s profundity and the singularity of its artistic vision. On Good Friday the same forces will perform the work in Berlin. The German audience will, no doubt, have its own reservations, but I suspect the performers will be keen to hear their response. Even with the language barrier, an impressive balance has been achieved between music and text. Without it, there is potential here for the St Matthew Passion to be reclaimed as a masterpiece of musical narrative.

Gavin Dixon

This concert was broadcast live on BBC Radio 3 and can be heard online here until Wednesday 15 April 2009.

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