|
EARLY MUSIC REVIEW
September 13, 2003
|
By Anna Carol Dudley
Handel's last oratorio, "Jephtha," is Philharmonia's season opener, and
Saturday's performance in Berkeley was a triumph. The orchestra and chorus were splendid, soloists were outstanding, and Nicholas McGegan's gift for pacing kept the ensemble tight. It was as if all the singers and players
were breathing and moving together, for three glorious hours.
The story of Jephtha comes from the Old Testament book of Judges. The
valiant Jephtha, once-despised son of Gilead, has been called back from
exile to lead the Israelites in a war against the Ammonites. He agrees to
do so, on condition that he remain their leader if he succeeds in the war.
He also asks the Lord for help, vowing in return to sacrifice whatever or
whoever first comes out to meet him if he returns victorious from battle.
Alas, the first person to welcome him is his daughter. Handel's
librettist, Thomas Morell, filled out the Biblical story by giving
Jephtha's daughter a name, Iphis (perhaps in reference to Iphigenia, who
found herself in a similar predicament), and adding characters: Jephtha's
wife Storgé and brother Zebul, and a fiancé, Hamor, for Iphis.
The character of Jephtha — a man of virtue and valor, fierce in battle and soft in his love for his wife and daughter — is wonderfully described in Handel's music and magnificently realized in John Mark Ainsley's performance. Ainsley combines technical brilliance with a big heart. His first aria, proclaiming his commitment to a great cause, was distinguished by a stream of flawlessly executed triplets, and he came back after the battle with another tour de force of breathtaking fioritura. His recitatives were beautifully timed and emotionally powerful. The recitative addressed to his daughter, "Deeper, and deeper still," is Handel at his most psychologically penetrating, and Ainsley's singing of it was immensely moving. His sound could be heroic or tender, bright or dark. He could sing "A father, off'ring up his only child in vow'd return for victory and peace," with bitter irony, and move to "Waft her, angels, through the
skies" in a lovely warm sound, supported by beautiful playing in the
strings.
Christine Brandes brought a bright spirit, ravishing sound and emotional depth to the role of Iphis. Particularly affecting were her three songs of welcome to her father, acceptance of her fate and farewell to the beauties of this earthly life. Daniel Taylor sang Hamor with elegant phrasing and great beauty of sound. He has a talent for language, making every word understood whether in recitative or aria, even when the language is convoluted and occasionally archaic. The two lovers were wonderfully paired in their duets, breathing as one, handing phrases back and forth, and "decking the feast of love" in a perfect unison. Their shared musical sensibility and attention to each other made especially poignant the moments when she sends him off to war, when he comes back rejoicing that he has earned her hand, and when he offers to take her place as the sacrifice in the fulfillment of Jephtha's vow. Mezzo-soprano Wilke te Brummelstroete took the part of Jephtha's wife, Storgé. She conveyed vividly the emotions of a wife sending her husband to war, and a mother oppressed by nightmares and finally pleading for her daughter's life. Bass John Ames, as Jephtha's brother Zebul, started off the story with some historical context, and brokered the deal between the Israelites and Jephtha. I could understand none of his opening words, but they were in the program for quick reference, and he does possess an impressive voice, large and deep. He made a welcome contribution to ensembles. The quartet, "Oh, spare your daughter," dramatic in both its libretto and its music, pits Zebul, Storgé and Hamor against Jephtha. The orchestra's playing was unflagging and ardent, with particularly lovely moments in the strings and oboes. The chorus, six to a part, was terrific — technically solid, vocally beautiful and expressive throughout. A three-part chorus of virgins, sung beautifully by the six sopranos, was a gem. The chorus gave voice to the Israelites longing for help, engaged in battle, rejoicing in victory, desolate over Jephtha's vow, distressed as priests charged with carrying out the awful sentence.
Which brings us to the final change Handel and his librettist made to the story of Jephtha. The Biblical story is that Jephtha's daughter asks for two months with her friends in the mountains, to lament her having to die a virgin. At the end of the two months, she returns and is duly sacrificed, and for years thereafter it is the custom for the daughters of Israel to lament her fate for four days every year. Handel and Morell, perhaps preferring the example of Abraham and Isaac, found a loophole. An angel intervenes (impersonated on Saturday night by Saundra DeAthos), bringing the message that Iphis is to live but must remain a virgin. Everyone is happy, Iphis will always esteem Hamor (who will always adore her from afar), and a cunningly wrought quintet leads to a final celebratory chorus complete with trumpets and tympani.
(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 of the San Francisco Early Music Society's Baroque Music Workshop.)
|
John Mark Ainsley
Christine Brandes