The Royal College of Music has of late become, for
me, one of the three London venues where I feel most at home, since
each performance there is always awaited with the expectation of the
highest musical standards, allied to the unique thrill of hearing some
of the most promising young voices of today. This rare event, a performance
of Handel's 'Brockes Passion,' was presented in the college's Britten
Theatre in association with the London Handel Festival, and was a somewhat
austere delight, but a great one.
Those who cannot hear the narrative of Christ's Passion
and Death without thinking of Bach might be surprised to learn that
Handel set Brockes' version of the story to music in around 1716, some
eight years before the 'St. John Passion,' and although Handel's work
cannot be said to possess the same intensity and musical sophistication
of the Bach Passions, it is nevertheless a work of great interest, mainly
for its robust, highly dramatic arias and unusual framework. Brockes
uses an Evangelist to tell the story, not in secco recitative but broadly
rhyming lines, and the other characters are divided between the story's
participants such as Jesus and Peter, and a group of Greek-chorus like
commentators led by three 'Daughters of Zion.' Handel's setting is even
more theatrical than that of Bach, with solo passages where individual
characters enact moments of crisis in their lives, very much in the
manner of the composer's operas. The other major element is the moving
chorales which are based on Lutheran hymn tunes, giving a sense of universality
to the drama.
The overwhelming impression one takes from this production
is the absolute, austere, devout seriousness with which the students
perform, and one cannot help but be moved by their sincerity and commitment.
Visually, the set is a simple one with a clear ecclesiastical framework,
and the main interest is supplied by the costumes, in tones of cream,
lilac, green and rust for the 'Chorus,' and stark primary colours for
the major characters. When the assembled company sang the first of the
chorales, I was reminded of a ground-breaking production by the RSC
of Miller's 'The Crucible,' which began with the singing of a Lutheran
hymn before we were plunged into the world of the play, and this beginning
was similarly involving; indeed, during all the chorales, one almost
had to resist the impulse to join in.
The very young company have obviously approached the
piece with absolute commitment, and it shows in every gesture, every
line, every expression, but nowhere more so than in the exceptional
assumption of the role of the leading 'Daughter of Zion' by Claire Surman.
This very fine young soprano has everything; she is graceful in presence
and dignified in bearing, and her countenance expresses sorrow and sympathy
in a truly moving way. She sings the part superbly, with strikingly
clear declamation of the narratives and vivid singing of the arioso
passages - this is obviously a singer to watch.
The difficult part of Jesus was taken by James Harrison,
a fine baritone whose treasurable assumption of Starveling in the college's
production of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' already gave promise of an
interesting future. On this occasion he began nervously, and his first
aria was affected by some rather choppy phrasing, but he recovered to
give an honest portrayal of a part which is nearly impossible to play,
singing with fervour and precise musicianship. He was ably partnered
by the dramatically convincing Peter of Andrew Kennedy, another young
singer who made a strong impression in the MSND with his mellifluously
sung Lysander. In this difficult role, Andrew showed once more that
he is a tenor whose career will be one to follow with interest, since
he performed his challenging music, especially the aria after the betrayal,
with a confidence and musicality beyond his years; his voice has an
exciting edge to it, and his phrasing is already very polished.
Every member of the cast played their part with real
sincerity both in singing and acting, from the magisterial Evangelist
of Robert Murray to the commanding Caiphas of Siôn Goronwy, another
MSND singer who made a distinct impression, and the London Handel Orchestra,
under the seemingly ageless Denys Darlow, played with real verve - the
continuo was an absolute joy from start to finish. As the whole company
sang the final line 'O endless Love and Passion' with such moving grace
I felt I wanted to hear it all again.
Melanie Eskenazi