Decca’s reissue of the Gay-Britten Beggar’s Opera has dispensed
with the valuable notes that accompanied its original appearance and instead
gives us just the bare synopsis of the plot. This shouldn’t deter those
who have yet to experience this arrangement first performed by the English
Opera Group in 1948. Performances since have been sparse and other realisations
have taken their place on disc to dilute interest in Britten’s genuinely
fruitful exploration of the theatrical life of the Beggar’s Opera, and
one which can rightfully now be seen to take an assured place in Britten’s
musical development and not, as was once the case, as some kind of kitsch
jeux d’esprit. As for those other performances the unvarnished "original"
Beggar’s Opera comes from Jeremy Barlow on Hyperion; Richard Bonynge,
also on Decca, has a stellar cast. But this first recording, directed
by Steuart Bedford receives in almost all respects a performance of vigour,
intelligence and wit. Britten’s technique keeps the ear constantly engaged,
spicing the work with piquant turns of phrase and intriguing sonorities;
the sheer variety of means available to him to spice the score is considerable,
whether harmonic or rhythmic and the joy is that so much is so alive and
endearing.
The chamber orchestra comprises a band of twelve instrumentalists.
Each has some opportunity to vest the score with their own personal
distinction and with musicians of the quality of cellist Jonathan Tunnell,
flautist Jennifer Stinton, oboist Nicholas Daniel and Richard Watkins
who plays the horn, and all their distinguished colleagues, Bedford
has an ensemble of superior plays to deal with. Harry Christophers is
the chorus master, in charge of an excellent chorus of fourteen, and
the dialogue has been generally well managed. It’s very difficult, as
we all know, to match speaking with spoken voices in productions of
this kind and it would not be true to say that this has been a complete
success – but failures are relatively few and equally of relatively
little significance. The singers are often excellent, though none overplays
their hand. Robert Lloyd is commendably forthright as Peachum and Langridge
mellifluous and elegant as Macheath. There are far too many delights
to note individually but I will mention the tang and zest of the overture,
the ardent mockery of My heart was so free – as much Britten’s
as Gay’s – and the riotous percussion of Fill ev’ry glass – an
interesting instance where Britten and Gay fuse together in an act of
mutually advantageous creativity. This feature is further demonstrated
in If the heart of a man is depressed with cares where the pirouetting
and trilling solo violin adds a seductive feminine voice to the musical
argument – and Langridge’s head voice, incidentally, is deployed to
superb effect. The utility of the solo instruments is exhibited in the
immediately succeeding Youth’s the season made for joys where
the solo violin, so feminine and wily, now transforms itself into a
raucous and aggressive folk fiddle in support of a carousing aria. The
gentleness, aggression and multiplicity of feelings invoked by Britten
are nowhere more obvious than in maybe the most beautiful moment of
the opera, the chorus Cease your funning, with its shimmer of
brass and harp, violin accompaniment and poignant chorus. Depth is present
as well – listen to Macheath’s O cruel, cruel case – which is
of prescient interiority. So much, in fact, is reflective as much of
Britten as of Gay and this recording is entirely worthy of the undertaking
and, a decade on, still wholly recommendable.
Jonathan Woolf
|
Steuart Bedford