San Francisco Classical Voice

It took all of Nicholas McGegan's considerable best and that of his Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra, his five excellent vocal soloists and Bruce Lamott's Philharmonia Baroque Chorus to spring this enchantment out of the box. It is a long score after all, with no central dramatic line and characters. Exactness in the performing and expressive style, a keen succession of tempos, the vitality and ensemble that is the McGegan hallmark, and beautiful performing made The Fairy Queen not simply viable in its improbable entirety, but alive.

The preparation of Queen Titania' sleep, which is Act II or the second Masque, proceeds from delightful evocation of birds (including pictorial chirping of two violinists, Elizabeth Blumenstock and Lisa Weiss) to haunting solos, “Night,” “Mystery” (“Love without me cannot last”) and “Secrecy.” The concluding solo and chorus, “Sleep” (“Hush no more”) was lovely but might have been magical had McGegan reduced forces by half for the final seven measures and for the succeeding instrumental dance. Similarly, the earlier “echo” effect in trio and chorus (the echo then echoed in the orchestra), might have been made more effective by using offstage trios (of choristers). And there was some heavy bowing in a couple of the instrumental pieces early on, where lighter, detached articulation was definitely wanted.

The Act IV masque is celebratory, hailing the birthday of King Oberon (the work's only reference by name to a Shakespearean character). Purcell's flashing and ornate trumpet tunes and drums appear followed by fine solos representing the four seasons. Act V is an evocation of love (by Juno), and its celebration, featuring, of all exotic 17th century conjurations, “A Chinese Man” and “A Chinese Woman.” The two splendid sopranos, Christine Brandes and Susanne Rydén, call for Hymen, God of Marriage, to appear. Cynical and grumpy, Hymen (in the person of the excellent bass Neal Davies) appears, and ignites his dead torch from the “Glories” (the Glories in the music? the singing? the scenic wonders of the 1692 production?” All three perhaps). A joyous trio and brilliant choral-orchestra finale conclude the pageant.

For me, the wonders lay in the originality and variety of the music and the performances that realized them. The da capo form was used sparely, in “Ye gentle spirits of the air,” one of the virtuosic soprano solos, and also in the tenor's “Thus the gloomy world.” Many of the pieces exemplified Purcell's best, catching him at his highest creativity. This was true even of the instrumental works, used as overtures and dance pieces. (Some were character pieces, like the Dance of the Green Man, intentionally rough and mock-scary, and the Monkey's Dance). It was true of the choruses, rich in sonority and harmony, and certainly of each of the singular solo songs.

One selection, for example, “The Plaint” (“O let me weep”), is a passacaglia for which Purcell has moved on from his more famous Lament from Dido and Aeneas of three years before. This one goes further in variations and even in emotional depth. Purcell's insertion of this “Plaint” into Act V, out of context, would seem as if he had this great piece in his head and just wanted to get it in. The splendid soprano Christine Brandes gave a most moving performance of it.

Brandes's performance kept growing more impressive during the evening. The very close focus of her singing had an electric effect in the ornamental work and stylishly tight rhythms, and her interpretations were persuasive. The Swedish soprano Susanne Rydén sang exquisitely, her soprano true, the elaborately embellished long lines etched and phrased finely, the voice's slight edge helping that. She was always inside the feeling or affect of the song. Jennifer Lane sang the low mezzo soprano roles, in solo and ensembles, very musically, with poise, dramatic projection. Alan Bennett's tenor was light and accurate, his singing fluid and easy. Neal Davies, made much of the character singing, the drunken poet, the peasant swain, the reluctant Hymen, his bass solid, flexible, not-specific like a bassoon in the low register, and shone in serious solemnity, “Now winter comes slowly.”

Having assembled a top-flight cast, McGegan ensured their best performances through the flexibility and sensibility of his conducting, and by encouraging his orchestra's typically sympathetic support. The critical leading principal was the cellist Phoebe Carrai, from Boston. Carrai played this most demanding continuo part brilliantly, with keen expression and always on top of the singers' every nuance of rhythm and tempo. Bruce Lamott's chorus was sure, clear, responsive and expressive.

“The Fairy Queen,” to be performed, tonight in Walnut Creek's Lesher Center, Friday in San Francisco's Herbst Theater, next Saturday back in Berkeley's First Congregational Church, is a very special, one can say unique experience.