Handel: The Messiah
Arleen Auger, Anne Sofie von Otter, Michael Chance, Howard Crook,
John
Tomlinson; The English Concert and Choir, Trevor Pinnock (Archiv)
Handel: The Messiah
The Scholars Baroque Ensemble, David von Asch (Naxos)
And here we have one of the true masterworks. Passing atheists might be put off by the title, but they need not worry: there's no Christian piety here, this isn't church music. The Messiah is drama, pure theatre, premiered in a theatre, and somewhat controversial in its day for serving up Christianity as entertainment. There's no evidence that Handel was an especially religious man; more than anything, it's clear that he used the English taste for sacred oratorio as an excuse to continue his Italian operas after they had gone out of fashion. The music in The Messiah has the same earthy passion, the same ribald energy associated with his operas. The biblical texts in the libretto don't tell the story of Jesus directly, but in the abstract -- most of them aren't taken from the Gospels at all -- so that instead The Messiah can be seen as a story of purely human experience, of birth and death and the joys, sorrows, passions and hopes that happen in between. It's an ode to humanity, delivered with an irresistible Handelian swagger. There's no trace of holy abasement about Handel. While other composers of sacred music invite you to listen with awe at what God can do, Handel invites you to listen with awe at what he can do. And his Messiah is a tour-de-force; a succession of non-stop hits, always direct and powerful, always accessible, and by turns moving, exciting and inspiring. It's one of the great achievements of western art. The Beatles may have been bigger than Jesus, but The Messiah is better than Jesus.
And also, sad to say, better than any recording of the work I've heard. I had to ditch Hickox's painful performance on Chandos -- it was like listening to someone you love being tortured -- and while Pinnock's version on Archiv isn't as bad, it would still end up in the bargain bin were it not for some excellent performances by the first three soloists listed above. Particularly Anne Sofie von Otter, whose tragic and beautiful He was despised is the best I've heard. Other highlights include the transition between Otter and Auger in the exquisite He shall feed his flock (a piece which engenders the most impure thoughts in this listener), and Chance's fiery But who may abide, which saves the CD early on, just as it's beginning to sound like a dud. The tenor and bass are less impressive. Crook's opening Comfort ye is unforgivably dull, and while Tomlinson's barking tone is okay for Why do the nations, it's utterly wrong in The trumpet shall sound, which on this disc is something of a travesty. This aria needs more of a word-painter, almost a Lied singer, with something evangelical about him; when Tomlinson sings that we will "be raised incorruptible," I don't believe him.
The real culprit, though, is Pinnock, who is simply too tweedy and reserved for this music. Handel needs a conductor with a Handel-sized personality, someone who can sit down and eat a ten-course meal, someone who can say fuck. Pinnock couldn't say poot. His conducting is too timid, and he makes the choral numbers sound like dreary Anglican hymns. (He's saved in Hallelujah and Worthy is the Lamb by his outstanding timpanist, but they are the only places the timpanist can help.) It's significant that the two best soloists on this disc -- Otter and Auger -- came from overseas. Handel suffers from being repeatedly recorded by English choral ensembles. I have little time for the English vocal tradition, with its emphasis on a phony 'pure' sound, and its ideal that choristers should sound like grown-up choirboys. It's musical arrested development, and The Messiah deserves better. These are songs of experience, not innocence.
The Naxos Messiah with the Scholars Baroque Ensemble is a small-scale, modest performance, with much to be modest about. There's a minimal orchestra with scratchy strings, and the undistinguished soloists are drawn from a tiny choir. It's all vaguely amateurish: it doesn't try to be a great performance, and it's not. In some ways this suits the work better than Pinnock's interpretation. The choruses here certainly have a lot more fire and life in them, like at an end-of-year gala for the local music society, and Comfort ye, the first solo number, is quite beautiful. The other solos are hit and miss, with nothing outstanding, and the middle drags somewhat. The score used is based on the original Dublin version, which is a bad idea: the subsequent revisions Handel made were almost all improvements. But who may abide is a bore without the virtuouso sections added for superstar castrato.