My last ‘St. John Passion’ was Rilling’s at the Barbican
in March, and it would be difficult to find two more contrasting performances,
Rilling’s being noble yet impassioned, clean – lined and performed with
style by a mostly emergent team of soloists, whereas Rattle’s was far
more generalized and was performed by a very well known but strangely
divided line – up. There were two major oddities in this performance,
one of them simply perverse, the other inexplicable. The first was having
only one bass soloist, who sang not only Christus but also Pilate and
the bass arias; fine though David Wilson-Johnson was this disposition
does not work for me, and it’s asking too much of any soloist, in my
opinion – why not go all the way and have the Evangelist sing the tenor
solos? Yes, I’m well aware of the history of performance practice in
this piece, but it still works better with two basses if you’re going
to have two tenors.
The second oddity was the organist’s display of histrionics,
which distracted from much of the performance; bare-shouldered and décolleté
in a gold lame encrusted bustier whilst everyone else onstage was clad
in black, this lady’s show of phantom-of-the-opera style antics should
surely have been clamped down on by somebody – and what was the Evangelist
doing turning the pages for her, solemnly avoiding looking down her
cleavage, making it all even more distracting?
The opening chorale did not have much sense of attack,
but by ‘O grosse Lieb’ things had settled down and the European Voices
gave fluent performances, especially in ‘Ach grosser König’ and
in the neatly incisive close of ‘Durch dein Gefängnis, Gottes Sohn,’
but I found myself longing for the reverence and the feeling that the
choir was sensing the conductor’s every wish, that Rilling’s forces
brought to the work. The playing was intermittently fine, but ultimately
lacking in the ideal sense of power; ‘cello continuo and woodwind had
some lovely moments, though.
Ian Bostridge’s ubiquitous Evangelist is well known
in London, and of course he sings it beautifully, but I am perturbed
by what seems to be his desire to snarl his way through certain lines,
and he still does not give the ideal onomatopoeic response at such moments
as ‘weinete bitterlich.’ David Wilson Johnson surpassed himself in every
bass voice role; he was dignified and moving as Christus, urbane as
Pilate and mellifluous in the arias, and if ‘Mein teurer Heiland’ lacked
an ideal sense of confidence and power, this was hardly surprising given
what had gone before it. Michael Chance sang ‘Es ist vollbracht’ very
movingly although his tone was at times underpowered, as was that of
Rosemary Joshua who, despite singing ‘Ich folge dir’ brightly, seemed
less disciplined than is her wont. Mark Padmore had the difficult task
of singing the tenor solos, and he accomplished them creditably but
without much variety or beauty of tone.
Ultimately, this was not a ‘St. John’ for those who
like their Bach to be moving, and after exposure to the ENO’s recent
staged version, this one seemed rather cold, only engaging our deepest
sympathies during the wonderfully touching rendition of the narrative
at the foot of the cross. The Queen Elizabeth Hall’s size and intimacy
would seem perfect for this work, so it was a pity that on this occasion
it just did not seem to take fire – London audiences will hear a very
different Bach Passion when the English Concert presents the St. Matthew
in the vast space of the Albert Hall at the Proms on Sunday August 4th.
Melanie Eskenazi