Or, Handel's Samson at the Barbican on 12 February.
I have to say I am a bit annoyed at the scheduling of this. It started at 6.30 pm and they ran Acts II and III together, as well as having several cuts - mainly the failure to Da Capo several Da Capo arias - and then finished at 9.30.
I expect this is so that people can get their trains back to the provinces, but let's be honest, how many people working 9-5 in the provinces can actually get there comfortably for a 6.30? I know in reality most people don't work 9-5 but if you're making assumptions... And they didn't even announce what time it would finish, so you're left guessing how to manage food and drink from lunchtime onwards.It really does put a downer on what should be an enjoyable evening when you're hungry and thirsty.
As a subsidiary moan, the TfL Journey Planner refuses to acknowledge that the best way to get from Parliament Square to Barbican is via Victoria and Kings Cross. They suggested all sorts of stupid routes (bus to Great Portland Street...as if!) that would take an hour.
So, what did I think?
It was okay, but not great. It is a lovely piece of work, and a great story. I don't know if the powers that be at the Barbican had any regret about scheduling this, a decision they probably made two years ago, considering it's about an Israelite suicide bomber who slaughters many Philistines in Gaza, to the general rejoicing of the Israelite nation. Well, I say bomber, I mean temple-destroyer. All pretty much the same.
I say it's a lovely piece of work. I hadn't actually heard it in its entirety through before this performance, but knew that it contained two good arias (as featured on Mark Padmore's album) and a good aria/chorus, as featured on Kiri Te Kanawa's album. Indeed, my good friend Gail Forcewinds remarked that he was only there for Let the Bright Seraphim. It's rather a long time to wait for that! The great thing about these evenings at the Barbican is how sociable they are. I think in total I spoke with a dozen people, all of whom I have met directly or indirectly via the internet. Who says 'social networking' doesn't encourage face-to-face interaction! I mean, if it wasn't for the internet, I'd be going along to these Barbican things and being in lonely solitude. Actually, I probably wouldn't be going.
On paper it was a splendid line-up: Harry Christophers and the Sixteen, with a starry set of soloists: Gillian Keith, Catherine Wyn-Rogers, Mark Padmore, Roderick Williams and Jonathan Lemalu. In reality it was somewhat mixed. I wasn't at all impressed by Catherine Wyn-Rogers, who as I said soon after the event, managed to conjure up images of Beecham and the Huddersfield Choral Society circa 1950 performing Messiah with enormous orchestra syrupy strings and a chorus of thousands. Not that I have anything against the Huddersfield Choral Society but Handel performances have moved on considerably in the past quarter of a century.
I suspect that Iestyn Davies will be several degrees of magnitude better in the upcoming Proms performance (well, I say Proms, it's in an undisclosed London venue in August or September). I felt that she had no insight into the character she was performing and the events she was supposedly commenting on. To her it was just a display of vocal virtuosity, but without the virtuosity, the sort of singing that gives Handel an undeserved bad name.
I was not impressed by Gillian Keith who I thought was more interesting to look at than to hear. Definitely a babe, although not the sort to awake my dormant bi tendencies. To be honest I was more interested in trying to work out the support arrangements for the dress she wore as Dalila than hearing her sing (she wore a different dress when she appeared as Philistine Woman). And she was really disappointing in Let the bright seraphim.
So that's the women dismissed. What about the men?
Roderick Williams was the stand out. I do think that he's a very under rated baritone, although I do realise that I will be seeing him in L'Amour de loin in the summer. As well as vocal security and a lyrical line, he also managed to convey a real sense of mature dignity. His singing of How willing my paternal love was my highlight of the night.
Mark Padmore was generally very good, but to some extent I was comparing him to how he sounds on his sublime album, especially in Total eclipse and Your charms to ruin led the way, and he didn't match up. I do like Mark as a singer, but despite his excellent musicality and his fine voice and reasonable stage presence, I do think he lacks a certain je ne sais quoi. And I have heard him in better voice than I did tonight.
I was surprised by how little I disliked Jonathan Lemalu; again I knew his big number because I have Bryn singing it on CD, and, actually, JL didn't suffer too much by comparison.
My lowlight of the night was, perhaps inevitably, the flubbing by period horns. It almost goes with the territory, but at what point they all seemed to be playing different duff notes, and I am sure that Harry Christophers went red with embarrassment, unless it was just the exertion of being an amazing dancing conductor. I did manage to excise it from my mind, until I was reminded of it on a newsgroup the next day.
Overall, it was enjoyable evening. Not a perfect performance, but one with much going for it. My enjoyment was marred by the small-mindedness of whoever imposed a time limit on the performance and made it an unrelaxed evening. I want Wagnerian breaks in Handel operas, I mean seriously, I doubt any opera house, or concert hall of renown would run Acts II and III of, say, Tristan und Isolde together and cut out lareg chunks of the music, just so that people could get a 10 pm train. Handel deserves as much respect as Wagner. I want a 5 pm start and a supper break (although, obviously the Barbican isn't the best place to do supper). Okay. 5 pm starts aren't ideal, but then, nor is 6.30pm, let's rush it, let's cut the ornamentations. Dare we hope it will be given more respect at the Proms?
Hilary Finch picks up the Gaza reference and says the evening 'sped by'. She, like Gail Forcewinds and I, and Mrs Senztalento on a previous occasion, specially counted that the choir had 18 members. And reminds me also of how wonderful was the Dead March.
Robert Hugill comments on the ridiculous timings and the cuts, and also mentions the choir of eighteen, and also provides some excellent background information.
