Ludus Baroque are a once-a-year outfit who come together every
August to give two performances at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe.
Their conductor, Richard Neville-Towle, is director of music
at the Canongate Kirk, where they give their performances, and
the players and singers are drawn from a range of highly respected
bodies such as the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, the Sixteen and
the Monteverdi Choir. They’ve built quite a reputation
for themselves in the limited confines of Scotland’s capital,
but their recent recording of Handel’s Alexander’s Feast for Delphian (I was at the live performance) has helped their name to go semi-global. They
follow up that very well received recording with another of
Handel’s large-scale Cecilian Odes.
The first thing you notice about the recording is the exquisite
quality of the sound. The Delphian engineers have done an outstanding
job of capturing the acoustic of Canongate Kirk, placing the
listener right in the midst of the sound rather than at some
distance in the pews. This brings every aspect of the music
alive. Each instrumental detail gleams, particularly the pungent
quality of the winds and the lovely lilt of the strings, but
there is sufficient sense of ensemble so that each component
feels as if it is pulling towards a greater goal. The nature
of Dryden’s text means that there are plenty of opportunities
for soloists to shine, and shine they do. “The trumpet’s
loud clangour” rings out brilliantly, supported by natural
timps, the “soft complaining flute” has a slightly
pathetic lilt to it, while the “sharp violins” are
flexible and agile in conveying “depths of pains and height
of passion”. “Jubal’s chorded shell”
caused Handel more problems, but the cello playing that accompanies
it here is sensitive and warm. The highlight of this whole section
is the one celebrating the organ (track 9) which turns into
a sublime duet for a gentle chamber organ and the soprano. Mary
Bevan sings this, and everything else, with divine purity, touching
wonderful heights with her crystal clear voice: a delight to
listen to. Ed Lyon’s tenor sounds a little more pale than
I have heard him elsewhere, and he doesn’t sound quite
within his comfort zone. He manages the coloratura leaps with
plenty of skill, but the voice lacks a little colour in his
arias. He also sings Look down, harmonious saint with
good phrasing and understanding of the words, but here too he
seems to lack the final edge of comfort and fullness.
Still, this doesn’t detract too far from a very fine performance,
which is crowned by the brief appearances of the chorus, who
create an excellent impression when we hear them. They are clean,
brisk and open at the beginning, the men intoning beautifully
on their bass line, “the diapason closing full in man”,
and they summon martial excitement for “the trumpet’s
loud clangour”. The whole rises to a superb contrapuntal
climax in the final chorus when Dryden invokes the ultimate
power of music when, with the sounding of the last trumpet,
“Music shall untune the sky”. The orchestra support
the vocalists brilliantly throughout, and Neville-Towle shapes
the whole enterprise with the skill of someone who knows and
understands this music very well indeed. The concerto grosso
feels a little slight in comparison with the works around it,
but it is beautifully played, and it benefits from the “lived-in”
acoustic, giving just enough bloom on the sound while being
close enough to provide intimacy.
In many ways this sort of release is exactly what Delphian,
a Scottish label, is for. They are taking a local, hugely talented
musical enterprise and making it deservedly much more widely
known. While Delphian’s releases may be grounded in their
local, Scottish context, with such quality releases they are
rapidly taking on an international level of significance.
Simon Thompson
Mary Bevan (soprano); Ed Lyon (tenor)
