St John’s, Smith Square
Chacony in G minor
Arias and duets:
Music
for a while; Sweeter than roses; My dearest, my fairest; If
music be the food of love; Bonduca’s
song; Sound the trumpet; Evening hymn; Hark the echoing air
Penelope
Appleyard, Hannah Davey, Anna Shackleton (sopranos)
Ellie Edmonds
(mezzo-soprano)
Johnny
Herford (baritone)
John Heley
(cello)
Howard Moody
(organ)
Dido
and Aeneas
Dido – Francesca
Saracino
Aeneas – Johnny
Herford
Belinda –
Hannah Davey
Sorceress –
Charlotte Tetley
First Witch –
Anna Shackleton
Second Witch –
Ellie Edmonds
Second Woman –
Penelope Appleyard
Spirit –
Rachel Crisp
Sailor
– Mitesh Khatri
OSJ Ashmolean Voices
Orchestra of St John’s
John Lubbock (conductor)
A delightful concert of music
from the English Orpheus, the composer whom I unhesitatingly consider the greatest
between Monteverdi and Bach. Indeed, I know of no greater piece of instrumental
music before Bach than Purcell’s Chacony in G minor. Its searing dissonances
and overwhelming marriage of formal dynamism and musico-dramatic development
all spoke here with unexaggerated yet unquestionable power. Four players, one
to a part, showed that larger forces are no absolute requirement. The excellent
acoustic of St John’s, Smith Square, certainly assisted. (What a relief to be
spared the Royal Albert Hall!) Inner parts, in particular, resounded with
richness, but always directed richness. Shading was beautiful – and yes,
goal-oriented too.
Following that splendid ‘overture’,
we heard five young singers in arias and duets from various Purcellian sources.
Johnny Herford’s Music for a while
benefited, as did the other numbers, from organ continuo playing (Howard Moody)
that was imaginative without exhibitionism. Herford’s vocal decoration was
likewise; his rendition of ‘drop, drop, drop, …’ did everything it should. In Sweeter than roses and Bonduca’s song, Penelope Appleyard
displayed a winning match of the plaintive and expertly-negotiated coloratura. Sound the trumpet, in which Appleyard
was joined by Hannah Davey, had a swift, finely balanced performance, whilst
Anna Shackleton displayed a ‘whiter’ voice in Evening hymn. Ellie Edmonds’s richer mezzo lacked nothing in
flexibility in If music be the food of
love.
Dido
and Aeneas: well, if it is
not the finest opera between Poppea
and Idomeneo, then I should clearly resign
my job forthwith. This ‘Tristan und
Isolde in a pintpot’ (Raymond Leppard) rarely, if ever, ceases to amaze; it
certainly did not here. Its inexorable musico-dramatic tragedy, its vocal and
harmonic mastery, and not least a fine performance worked their magic once
again. John Lubbock’s tempi were well suited to the work and each other; his
orchestra, again one to a part, belied in richness and commitment such apparent
‘restriction’. The choir sang well, its off-stage echoes a particular highlight,
but the closing chorus proved equally impressive. The simplest of stagings
permitted Purcell’s drama to ‘speak for itself’.
Francesca Saracino had, in the
first act, occasional instances of hesitancy, especially in the falling off of
phrases, but she acted well – a highly expressive face a boon here – and grew
in tragic stature. If she did not overwhelm the cast as some great Didos of the
past have done, that was no loss; indeed, it permitted greater depth of
characterisation. Hannah Davey’s Belinda had a couple of unfortunate fallings out
of sync with the orchestra, but recovered well and continued to display the
virtues we had heard before the interval. Aeneas is a tricky role, perhaps not
entirely unlike Don Ottavio: how does one present a strong characterisation of
a culpably weak character? One can, of course, but verbal and musical subtlety
should come to the fore, as they did with Johnny Herford. Charlotte Tetley’s
Sorceress was quite mesmerising, her stage presence splendidly allied to vocal
resources. Special mention should go to Mitesh Khatri’s spirited, engagingly
flirtatious Sailor. I hope – and am sure – that we shall hear more from many of
these singers. And how wonderful, even if for one night only, to have Purcell
rescued from the clutches of ‘authenticity’!
