Lexington audiences had the opportunity this week to hear two different Baroque-scale performances of Handel's The Messiah, closer in conception to the 18th-century composer's intentions than the gargantuan productions often foisted upon the work. Both presentations of the beloved oratorio — one by the Lexington Philharmonic Orchestra and Lexington Chamber Chorale; the other by Christ Church Cathedral's choir of men and boys and girls choir and the Lexington Baroque Ensemble — were meritoriously rendered, inspiring enthusiastic responses from their audiences.
At Thursday's concert by the Philharmonic and chorale at Tates Creek Presbyterian Church, director Scott Terrell conducted this work like he really meant it. His large, poetic gestures were beautiful to behold as he brought out the vital dance rhythms, both slow and fast, in number after number. The pared-down string section played vigorously, but was plagued with ragged ensemble throughout the evening. The oboes, however, were superbly articulate, not only holding the orchestra together but often keeping the chorale on track as well.
The chorale sang with pleasant enough tone but lacked the vitality evinced by the instruments. Their lean, spare sound often lacked breath energy, although they moved together buoyantly in fast passages. More symptomatically, the chorale's diction was extremely sluggish: If the text of this oratorio were not thrice familiar, no one would have any idea what it was about based on understanding the words in this performance. The consonants of words, especially in sung English, provide rhythmic impetus, and without adequate diction, the music itself loses punch. Hence, the impression arose that the orchestra was leading the chorus in this performance. (The orchestra and chorale gave a repeat performance Friday at Calvary Baptist Church, but it is not the subject of this review.)
At Friday's performance at Christ Christ Cathedral, the church's combined choirs sang with a more full-bodied sound. Their diction was very good, and the purity of young voices in the treble part and soft sonority of male altos lightened the choral texture to create some exquisitely tuned chords of radiant beauty. Director Eric Balling's unfussy conducting revealed a blander, less distinctively personal interpretation than Terrell's. But Balling gave a solid, traditional reading of the complete work (Terrell presented an abridged version without an intermission), ably assisted by the tight playing of the Lexington Baroque Ensemble.
Of the eight vocal soloists in the two performances, only three really distinguished themselves, although all of them were passable. In the Philharmonic's rendition, tenor Jonathan Blalock took vocal honors with his fresh, easy sound. His fleet passagework in the virtuosic Every Valley was a model of precision, and he sang Thou Shalt Break Them with vibrant tone quality and fervent feeling. By contrast, the Cathedral's tenor soloist, Andrew Ranson, took a more stentorian approach, resulting in a pressed, throaty sound in Valley and a shouty tone in Break Them.
The bass soloists were the weakest of both quartets. The Philharmonic's Gustav Andreassen seemed to have two voices, one rich and booming, the other strangled and peckish, neither of them informed by any principles of diction. He did not sing a final consonant on any word the entire evening. The cathedral's Chad Sloan has a beautiful voice, but he is a baritone, not a bass, so many of his numbers seemed underpowered. Also, his passagework was too mushy — in Handel, all of those runs and roulades must be cleanly negotiated.
Both trumpeters in The Trumpet Shall Sound made outstanding contributions: Jonathan Stites fairly danced along with Terrell, and at the cathedral, Mark Clodfelter interpolated some glorious ornamentation that made the famous piece dazzle even more than usual.
Both groups offered a countertenor as the alto soloist. For the Philharmonic, Daniel Bubeck sang well, especially his moving rendition of He Was Despised, but a prevalent delicacy in his lower registers raises the suspicion that he is more a falsettist than a true countertenor, as the male alto voice should blossom down low rather than fade out. He also sacrificed diction for tone quality, whereas a voice that is truly on the breath should ride the words effortlessly. On the other hand, Christopher Conley at the cathedral sang the text with incisive clarity and gorgeous vocal color throughout his range. His ability to connect the music and the words as one coherent unit of artistic communication was exemplary, using his formidable technique in long slow phrases and fast showy runs alike to delineate the underlying meaning rather than for mere vocal display.
The two sopranos posed the biggest discrepancy in soloist quality. The Philharmonic's Hana Park has a lovely if slender voice, but it does not bloom on the top or fill out in the middle, giving her singing an air of placid instrumental perfection. Her words were undistinguishable, and she failed to provide any facial expression or emotional inflection to her performance, seeming remote and uninvolved. Katharine Dain for the cathedral gave the opposite kind of performance, singing with a warm, colorful voice and great diction, thrilling runs, stunning high notes and full emotional display. She even sang the treacherous Rejoice Greatly with a beaming smile on her face, embodying the art on behalf of the audience, the way an artist is supposed to do.
The fact that Lexington can mount two fine "historically informed" performances of The Messiah in one week is an excellent indicator of this city's cultural growth and attainment.
