HANDEL: JUDAS MACCABEUS
BRIDGEWATER HALL – 30 JANUARY 2001

Lisa Milne – Soprano; Jean Rigby – Mezzo; James Bowman – Countertenor; James Gilchrist – Tenor; Neal Davies – Bass
Choir of the King's Consort
Robert King

Judas Maccabeus has a home amongst the many proud oratorios that littered the eighteenth century, of which Arne’s Alfred and Britannia are only two. Started in 1745 when Bonnie Prince Charlie was knocking on the gates of Carlisle, it remained incomplete until the following year, when, after the battle of Culloden, English victory was assured. It was also a victory for Handel since, during the early 1740s, his popularity had taken a disastrous turn for the worse. Few attended his oratorio performances and opera seria was no longer fashionable amongst those who assured his income; near to bankruptcy, Judas was an instant hit, marking a turn around in his personal fortunes. As with the Israelites, God was on the side of the English; against the tyrannical Scot, He provided His blessings and affirmed their birthright as a leader amongst nations.

...one was left gasping for those moments in which the two Jameses, Gilchrist and Bowman, took centre stage.

In many respects, The King’s Consort’s performance fully captured that essence, but, at times, it became overtly-crude with Milne and Rigby providing valedictorial, ‘Britanniaesque’ interpretations that really had more in keeping with the large-scale performances of the arch-Romantics than the historically-astute approaches that we have generally come to associate with the period-performance movement. Amidst shining eyes (and plenty of heaving bosoms), both Milne and Rigby wobbled their way through each number in a display of poor tuning and over-used vibrato that, unfortunately, made both text and context incomprehensible. Milne in particular stood out in this context: whilst her approach might be appropriate for Verdi, Handel requires a more subtle and honest approach, and, to begin with, we saw little of that. There were some moments in which a more relaxed and lyrical approach was taken, but these were few and far between and one was left gasping for those moments in which Neal Davies and the two Jameses, Gilchrist and Bowman, took centre stage. Davies was slightly woolly at times, but the manner in which he thundered about the stage highlighted both the essence and affekt of the text. Gilchrist was fabulous; with an imposing presence, he sang with clarity and a sense of purpose. Despite sounding slightly tired, Bowman’s cameo numbers proved to be show-stoppers: from the moment he opened his mouth, a sense of calm seemed to descend on an unusually restless audience. His recits were sprightly and clean and his only aria, ‘Father of Heav’n!’ had a beautifully-balanced delivery that left the audience breathless.

The choir was more than able, but, for the first half of the performance, they sounded tired: both tuning and ensemble were a bit uncertain and the sopranos sounded slightly forced and sharp. However, an improvement occurred after the interval, when things were a little more laid back, speeds more appropriate, dynamics better controlled and even the thundering of the soloists seemed to become more inhibited. Milne’s ‘O lovely peace’, in particular, was delivered thoughtfully with a sense of presence and occasion.

The orchestra were, on the whole, the most stable presence during the performance. Despite a few hiccups in the overture, they played with the remarkable clarity and sense of conviction that has made The King’s Consort one of the better period-instrument ensembles in Europe: their sense of shape and line were rarely hindered, and they provided us with a clean, sharp and dynamic ensemble.

Overall, a bit of a mixed bag; perhaps the acoustics of the Bridgewater Hall were somewhat misjudged, but the first half had neither the panache nor freshness that one associates with King’s performances, and, if judged by that alone, Judas Maccabeus was a poor ambassador for period performance in general. With a vastly-improved second half, it transformed into a performance more worthy of The King’s Consort.

John Woodford