Les Arts Florissants
William Christie (conductor)
Sophie Daneman (soprano)
Tristan Hambleton (treble)
Paul Agnew (tenor)
Andrew Foster-Williams (bass)
Saturday 21 July 2001
BBC Promenade Concerts, Royal Albert Hall, London
Handel: L'Allegro, Il Penseroso ed il Moderato
Handel's charming English Ode L'Allegro, Il Penseroso ed il Moderato is a study of contrasting moods. Mirth and melancholy, represented by alternating sections from John Milton's twin poems "L'Allegro" and "Il Penseroso," amiably struggle for dominance until they are united in the final section, "Il Moderato," written by Charles Jennens (compiler of the Messiah text and author of Saul and Belshazzar ). The text of the final section suggests that mirth and melancholy can be united through moderation - a tidy conclusion not without some common sense. Handel's inspired music describes all three temperaments with equal genius: the "L'Allegro" music - sung by the men, including a boy treble - is infused with joy and love of life, yet the "Penseroso" music - all composed for soprano - is serenely beautiful and contemplative. The "Moderato" conclusion unites L'Allegro and il Penseroso by bringing together the tenor and soprano in Handel's blissful duet "As steals the morn."
Things got off to a bad start with the opening accompanied recitative, "Hence, loathed melancholy" - the too-quick tempo prevented Handel's wonderful bassoon parts from working their magic; Paul Agnew's committed acting of it was further disadvantaged by his labored and unpleasant tone. Yet the remainder of the performance came off rather well. Agnew's next aria, "Haste thee nymph," was delightful, recalling the anecdote that Michael Kelly (Mozart's first Don Basilio) could bring 18th-century audiences to hysterics with his musical impersonation of side-splitting laughter, and with the gorgeous siciliano "Let me wander not unseen" Agnew demonstrated that he can sing gracefully and eloquently when required. Sophie Daneman sounds like a sexier Emma Kirkby, and when she is sufficiently engaged with the meaning of the text she is the ideal Handel soprano. On this occasion, her beautiful, slender voice fit the music to perfection. The boy treble Tristan Hambleton was impressive, though he understandably grew tired in his later music and struggled to project his fragile voice in the notoriously difficult Royal Albert Hall. Andrew Foster-Williams, who was recently so impressive at the Göttingen Handel Festival , has a strong full-blooded bass voice which he uses with agility and interpretative wisdom. All the soloists sang from memory, acting their parts with enthusiasm and without being rooted to one spot clutching a score. If only all Handel's English works were performed with such flexibility.
William Christie is a well-known Handel enthusiast, yet he and his highly respected group Les Arts Florissants are evidently reluctant to play Handel with enough bite. They often hold back from the music something vital and colorful (an even more serious problem when they perform repertoire such as Mozart's singspiels). Their affectionate interpretation of L'Allegro had plenty of volume but was too smooth and mushy; several crucial moments, such as the duet "As steals the morn," were rushed and sounded thin. The well-drilled 27-voice choir stood in a single row across the back of the stage, in mixed formation rather than grouped by section; this unconventional practice works wonderfully well, and the French singers coped admirably with the subtleties of Milton's verse. The instrumental soloists were impressive, but with a few regrettable defects: horn player Glenn Borling completely missed his high note in the bass aria "Mirth, admit me of thy crew", and in "Sweet bird" flutist Serge Saïtta had the irritating habit of fluctuating between very fast and slow tempos during his bird song imitations. Also, the da capo repeat in this aria was largely cut, which seems absurd when the flautist had taken center stage and Sophie Daneman sang it so well. Such musical mistakes and poor artistic decisions slightly marred an otherwise lovely, if skin-deep, performance of a wonderfully engaging work.
