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EARLY MUSIC REVIEW

Mighty Epic

February 19, 2005

Lisa Saffer


Marietta Simpson

Mark Padmore


David Pittsinger


Jeffrey Fields


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By Anna Carol Dudley

Nicholas McGegan and the the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra and chorus brought Handel's operatic oratorio "Samson" vividly to life Saturday night at the First Congregational Church of Berkeley. Handel starts his telling of the Biblical story as Samson, weakened by Dalila's betrayal, has been blinded and put in chains. His friend Micah asks him which of his burdens is the hardest to bear. It is his blindness. "Total Eclipse! No sun, no moon! All dark amidst the blaze of noon!" With these words, Handel finds his voice and the story really begins. And with these words, tenor Mark Padmore movingly found his voice and set the stage, as did the answering chorus: "Let there be light!" It is no accident that the blind poet Milton was drawn to this story. His Samson Agonistes was the basis of Handel's libretto (adapted by Newburgh Hamilton).

Samson, the scourge of the Philistines, known for his superhuman strength, has succumbed to the entreaties of Dalila, who worms out of him the secret of his strength: his uncut hair. Reading his story in the book of Judges, one can see how the Philistines found his Achilles' heel. Dalila wasn't the first woman to seduce him into telling a secret. Brought low, Samson bitterly bemoans his fate and rightly blames himself for the moment of moral blindness which has led to his ruin.

Enter Samson's father, Manoa. Jeff Fields was taken out of the chorus to sing this role, replacing the ailing Sanford Sylvan. Those who had been looking forward to hearing Sylvan did not envy Fields his assignment; but not to worry: he turned in a splendid performance, fervent in his opening recitatives, and in the aria, "Thy glorious deeds," alternately spot-on virtuosic and deeply expressive.

When Samson sees how he has failed his father, his people and his God, he is stirred to hurl defiance at the Philistines and their god — a change of mood that Padmore made thrilling in the thundering aria, "Let not the God of Israel sleep." The superb chorus brought Act I to a triumphant close, assuring Samson that even in death he would be remembered for his strength and not for his shame.

Ample resources

It is a tribute to the quality and depth of the Philharmonia chorus that it could produce such a capable soloist as Fields on short notice. And there were other chorus members who had brief and effective solo turns: soprano Helene Zindarsian and tenors Daniel Hutchings and Brian Thorsett.

Act II is the dramatic centerpiece of this work. Dalila appears and tries to persuade Samson that he should put all this unfortunate business behind him and let her make him feel better. Lisa Saffer was a terrific Dalila, employing all manner of vocal and visual wiles as she sang her siren songs of "plaintive notes and amorous moan" and called on a chorus of virgins to second her with "hear her, hear the voice of love." "Life is not lost, tho' lost your sight; let other senses taste delight," sang Dalila, but Samson would have none of it. He lit into her: "I know thy warbling charms.. thy wiles." There followed a duet brilliantly woven by Handel and brilliantly sung: "Traitor to love / Traitress to love," and Dalila, defeated, left. The scene ended with a choral admonition against "female usurpation" ("keep the wife in awe"). It was a treat to sit in Berkeley watching the chorus sing these un-PC sentiments with straight faces. Nobody hissed or walked out.

The next character to burst upon the scene was Harapha, a giant of the Philistine persuasion. David Pittsinger, a giant of a man possessed of a giant bass-baritone voice, made an electrifying entrance and continued to electrify through heated exchanges with Samson and a splendid rendition of "Honor and arms scorn such a foe." Disdaining to fight with a blind man, he prefers to make fun of him. Handel came through with another brilliant duet, and Padmore rose magnificently to the challenge. By now the dramatic action was so intense that one couldn't help noticing that Samson had a pretty good head of hair and Harapha had very little. There was a straw in the wind!

Stereo image

As the chorus of Israelites sang a powerful, heartfelt plea ("Hear, Jacob's God!"), Samson sat transfixed, clearly hearing a call to action. The chorus of the Philistine priests of Dagon (same chorus, different hats) answered with a confident "Song and Dance," and the act ended with the two choruses defying each other, sometimes in alternation and sometimes combined — a striking example of Handel's ingenious use of a hat-switching chorus. In a nice dramatic stroke, Samson and Manoa sang on one side of the stage with the Israelite chorus, and Dalila and Harapha on the other side sang with the Dagonites.

As Act III began, Harapha was back to bid Samson to come to a Philistine festival. It was clear that the object was to humiliate Samson, who refused. Harapha/Pittsinger dispatched another big florid aria — "Presuming slave!" — and left in a huff. Samson, feeling his strength returning with his hair, listened intently to the chorus of Israelites as they sang "With thunder arm'd, great God arise; help, Lord, or Israel's champion dies." When Harapha returned with a final demand, Samson agreed to go. He sang a final aria — "Thus when the sun from's watry bed" — absurd words, lovely music, beautifully sung by Padmore, to the last "st" of "ghost" — then left the stage for good.

The Israelites hoped for a miracle. The Philistines were heard partying, their chorus ending in a big laugh. Manoa, still hoping, sang a moving aria offering to be his son's eyes for the rest of his life. A "Symphony of Horror and Confusion" broke out in the orchestra, the Philistines were heard crying out and dying, and a messenger brought the news that Samson had brought an entire building down on all the Philistines and himself.

Driving force

Samson's friend, Micah, was sung by Marietta Simpson. Throughout the evening, it was she who carried the story forward, sympathizing with and encouraging her friend. Her singing was noble and affecting. Here at the end of the story, she did her best singing of all: "Ye sons of Israel now lament... Great Samson lies, for ever, ever clos'd his eyes."

The orchestra played a funeral march, featuring horns, flutes, organ and tympani. Manoa and the chorus sang Samson to rest. Lisa Saffer, as an Israelite woman, sang "Let the bright Seraphim" with trumpeter John Thiessen, and the chorus sounded Samson's praise "in endless blaze of light."

(Anna Carol Dudley is a singer, teacher, member of the faculties of the University of California, Berkeley, and San Francisco State University lecturer emerita] and director emerita of the San Francisco Early Music Society's Baroque Music Workshop.)

©2005 Anna Carol Dudley, all rights reserved