Royal Festival Hall
The
Dream of Gerontius,
op.38
Sarah Connolly (mezzo-soprano)
Paul Groves (tenor)
James Rutherford (bass-baritone)
Choir of Clare College, Cambridge
London Philharmonic Choir
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Sir Mark Elder (conductor)
This performance of Elgar’s Dream of Gerontius had a great deal to
recommend it. However, rather to my surprise, Mark Elder exhibited something of
a tendency, especially later on, to sacrifice drama to beauty. Memories of
Britten’s incendiary LSO recording continued to linger. The Prelude, like so
much else of this account, clearly took after Parsifal. After a slightly bland opening, it blossomed richly, not
least thanks to an excellent LPO viola section. (Violas, always at the very
heart of the harmony, are far more crucial to the success of a performance than
many realise, not least when it comes to Wagnerian and post-Wagnerian
repertoire.) Splendidly implacable brass also gave a foretaste of travails to
come.
Most of the first part
proceeded splendidly thereafter. For instance, he chorus, ‘Be merciful,’ had a
well-judged cumulative power, though I felt that there were times during
Gerontius’s subsequent solo when Elder drove too hard, ringing the soul closer
to Verdi than to Wagner. Amends were certainly made at the end of this part,
however, when a slight tendency to linger proved entirely apt to the text.
There were many details throughout to admire, not least excellent playing,
again redolent of Parsifal, from the
LPO woodwind. Elgar’s contrapuntal mastery told in Elder’s direction of the
Demons’ Chorus; here drive was not at all out of place. The emergence of the ‘great
tune’ was carefully prepared in the best sense.
Paul Groves proved a fine
Gerontius, more at home than he had been in Das Lied von der Erde a few nights earlier.
He offered sincerity, intelligence, and an excellent way with words. Perhaps it
was too much to hope for the ringing tones of a classic Heldentenor on top of that; perhaps it was inappropriate even.
After all, he had a good few ‘heroic’ moments, individually considered, and a
degree of strain might well be argued to fit the text well. Sparing use of the
head voice proved moving too. Initially I wondered whether something a little ‘more’,
however indefinably so, might have been desirable from Sarah Connolly. However,
it soon became apparent that consolation was developmental; the arc of her
performance was fully considered and all the more powerful for it. ‘Yes – for
one moment thou shalt see thy Lord,’ offered perhaps the most radiant singing
of the evening, though I might equally have said that of her final solo, ‘Softly
and gently, dearly-ransomed soul’. It set me thinking, not for the first time, how
much Janet Baker’s repertoire seems to suit Connolly; one would never mistake
the voices, but the Fach is clearly
similar. (I should love to hear her as the Wood Dove in Gurrelieder.) Moreover, Connolly’s duetting with Groves relatively
early on in the second part sounded as close to opera as Elgar would venture, The Spanish Lady notwithstanding. James
Rutherford was a very late substitute for Brindley Sherratt, and brought off
his parts with great aplomb, rich toned and full of presence. After the words, ‘To
that glorious Home, where they shall ever gaze on Thee,’ I almost expected to
hear a tenor respond, ‘Amfortas! Die Wunde!’
The London Philharmonic Choir
and the Choir of Clare College, Cambridge were also on excellent form. At the
first entry of the Assistants, they sounded very much as the best of the
English choral tradition. Evensong did not sound so very far away, though writ
large of course. They managed lightness equally well, clearly encouraged by
Elder, for instance in parts of the first ‘Praise to the Holiest’, in which
elements of earlier Romanticism, Mendelssohn and perhaps Schumann, came
winningly to light. A truly ringing conclusion to its successor, with the words
‘Most sure in all His ways!’ was a tribute to conductor, orchestra, and chorus.
It was something of a pity that Elder’s caressing way with what followed made
it seem a little too much of an anti-climax, but I should not exaggerate, for
there was seraphic beauty to be experienced – ironically – from Clare’s Voices
on Earth. As I said, there was a great deal to admire. And if Newman’s text may
be difficult for some to take, ultimately it was redeemed by Elgar’s music –
and by the performers.
