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Portrait of Samuel Wesley, Suffolk Villages Festival, St. Mary’s Church,
Hadleigh, 30th May One of the joys of
attending a Suffolk Villages Festival concert is the delight at being
surprised. A little as if he were clearing out boxes in a loft of
neglected musical reputations, conductor and musicologist Peter Holman
asks his audiences to gather round and see what is inside. Of course,
sometimes the surprise can be one of disappointment. Had this concert
of works by Samuel Wesley (son of Charles and nephew of John) concluded at
the interval, then one could easily assume that he was merely a composer
of pleasant if rather uninspiring works. The opening Deus
majestatis intonuit was expressed in a rather dilatory and muted
fashion by the orchestra, producing an aural experience analogous to
sucking a mint covered in dust – not really as refreshing as it should
have been! Wesley’s Symphony in B Flat was a reasonable affair, played without much
vigour though and lacking the intensity required in the concluding
movement. The exceptions were the stylish and inexhaustible woodwind
section, who injected a much needed spirit throughout. The choir,
Psalmody, shouldered their sorrowful burdens well in the short Carmen
funebre and sopranos Claire Tomlin and Philippa Hyde were compelling
as they interwined magnificently in the Ave
maris stella, hence providing the highlight of the first session. The sole work
after the break was Confitebor tibi
Dominie, a setting of Psalm 110. This is a substantial and complex
piece, divided into fifteen movements and bringing together differing
combinations of instruments and singers. It has the potential to be really
cumbersome (it took an hour and a quarter to perform), but here it flowed
with wonderful pace and passion. All of the soloists responded at their
best, with especially expressive offerings from Eamonn Dougan (bass) and
tenor Patrick McCarthy, although the latter’s pronunciation (three
different attempts at ‘sapientiae’) was a little variable. (Originally published in the East Anglian Daily Times, 20th June 2005)
Nothing will convince me that
Handel’s ‘Esther’ is anything other than an immature oratorio. It is hampered by an unexceptional libretto and its plot
dilutes much of the psychological drama inherent in the Old Testament book
of the same name. Yet Peter Holman, his principal singers and the Essex
Baroque Orchestra were so impressive on Monday that I can now see that the
work has more musical strengths than weaknesses. The basic plot is that Esther, the Jewish wife of
Persian King Assuerus, bravely intervenes to head off a planned massacre
of her people by the mad and bad Haman. Holman’s Heroes were everywhere. Bass Michael Bundy
was menacing in his opening piece as he planned the holocaust, although he
was somewhat vocally constipated in his later solos. This, in part, may be
a reflection of weaknesses in how they are scored. These two – Haman’s
plea for mercy and then his ‘how art thou fall’n from thy height’
reflection as he is led off to die – are imperfections that an older and
more confident Handel would not have allowed to remain. Tenors Michael Stevens (busily engaged as the First
and Second Israelites and Jewish leader, Mordecai) and Patrick McCarthy as
the King were good but in different ways; the former clearer-voiced but
less expressive than the latter’s avuncular and indulgent efforts, which
interestingly emphasised the patronising but loving attitude the King held
to Esther. Soprano Claire Tomlin sang with vigour and clarity as
the Israelite Woman and although I felt Phillippa Hyde was at times
overwhelmed by the orchestra, she excelled in portraying the Queen’s
vulnerability in the fourth scene and wiliness in the fifth, especially in
the duet with McCarthy. The undoubted highlight of the evening was alto
Timothy Kenworthy-Brown. He gave an extra dimension to his performance and
displayed such an emotional range (harbinger and bewailer of the holocaust
in scene three and triumphalist in his latter appearances) that I felt
that I was hearing the passages for the first time. The fact that he
turned some of the weaker moments in the oratorio into the most memorable
is a testimony to this singer’s ability. From the start, the orchestra were robust, adding a
slicing edge to the overture, which is too often performed as a languid
and diffident ramble. They continued to be excellent throughout,
especially oboe-ist Joel Raymond, and were directed with vigour from the
harpsichord by the impressive Mr Holman.
Dvorak’s Stabat Mater is a work of incredible and prolonged emotional intensity. With words from a medieval reflection on the Virgin Mary’s anguish at the foot of the cross, Dvorak’s interpretation is especially heartfelt, reflecting his response to the early deaths of his three children. But it is not a piece of
unrelieved misery. As the Hadleigh
Choral Society and the Colchester Orchestra successfully demonstrated,
the ten movements contain many, and sometimes competing, textures which
are only resolved in the glorious final movement. It also contains a
challenging mixture of choral, solo quartet and solo with choral
combinations. For this reason, as well as the many distinct musical
influences bearing upon the piece, it has sometimes been accused of being
a work lacking in an overall ‘architecture’. This mighty performance
was able to both explore the unexpected directions taken in the piece,
whilst maintaining its inherent emotional and musical unity. The four principals were well
balanced both within themselves and with the chorus and orchestra. The
second movement involves all of the quartet and each contributed
magnificently to the pleading and urging of the text. Bass Alistair
Chapman was especially impressive. He was even better in his fourth
movement solo, bringing to it a burning clarity of expression. Eugene Ginty (tenor) was very
good, especially in the eight movement duet with the reliable soprano
Suzanne Williams, although sometimes I found him to be a little too
mannered in places, most notably at the beginning of the sixth. Contralto
Elizabeth Stokes was a formidable presence and brought an urgency to the
baroque influenced ‘inflammatus’ of the 9th movement. The chorus
was commanding. In the first movement, it brought a whispered and
unbelieving sense of horror at the crucifixion scene. In the third, the
choral performers expressed a pleading tenderness interspersed with
outbursts of grief. In the fifth, they conveyed a graceful sense of hope |