BY ALEXANDRA MATHEW
Pinchgut Opera
Bach and Telemann
Elisabeth Murdoch Hall, 6 April
All Saints Day, 1755, Lisbon. The faithful congregate in churches across the city, giving thanks for their great and supposedly benevolent god. An earthquake — which today might register an 8 or 9 on the Richter scale — hits, wiping out thousands, and precipitating a tsunami and fires that kill thousands more. Civilians, philosophers, and leaders wonder how an interventionist god could allow (or perhaps even create) such deadly catastrophe on this day of worship.
Although a tragic episode in Europe’s history, Telemann’s musical reply — Die Donnerode (or the Thunder Ode) — was one of jubilation rather than requiem. Apparently, Telemann sought to give thanks that his beloved home city of Hamburg was spared such a tragedy. Would such a positive musical response to tragedy be acceptable today?
Considering the then-popularity of the Thunder Ode (it was performed a number of times during Telemann’s lifetime), it is strange that such a beautiful work has never before been heard in Australia. However, on 6 April, Pinchgut Opera – featuring a superb line-up of Australian soloists – gave the Australian premiere of the oratorio, more than 200 years after its inception.
It is an interesting exercise to program oratoria by Telemann and Bach side by side in one performance. Although the two were direct contemporaries, their music was vastly different, and as Erin Helyard told Limelight, Telemann “had a little bit more of a finger on the pulse of modern trends”, which is evident in his use of orchestration (apparently the earliest timpani solo), and colourful vocal lines. While Telemann’s Thunder Ode celebrates his god’s “powers of creation” (rather than narrate the tragedy of the Lisbon earthquake), Bach’s Easter Oratorio — much like his passions — narrates the story of Jesus’ resurrection, complete with named characters and recitatives. Somewhat confusingly, given the content of the two oratoria, Bach’s highly chromatic music is more sober than Telemann’s bizarrely celebratory ode to great tragedy.
The opening chorus of Telemann’s Thunder Ode set the tone for the evening: well played and sung by all musicians, all four soloists were superbly in tune with one another, and with excellent balance between them. Already, however, Alexandra Oomens’ “luminous” soprano (as declared in Pinchgut advertising material) stood out, soaring above the voices of her colleagues.
Rather than the usual ‘sit, stand’ format of oratorio, each soloist moved on and off centre stage as for their solo. The first aria Bringt her, ihr Helden aus göttlichen Samen — a glorious duet between soprano and bassoon — gave space to Oomens’ voice, allowing us to hear the full range and beauty of her instrument. Music in hand and with great poise, she faced out into the audience, rarely looking at the notes in front of her. Occasional sideways glances to Erin Helyard, directing from harpsichord and chamber organ, ensured that Oomens kept her coloratura in precise time. Her intonation alone was worthy of praise: each note, no matter how short, was impressively given its full due.
In the following aria Fallt vor ihm hin, mezzo soprano Anna Dowsley’s rich voice, with its deep, almost doleful, timbre, provided contrast to Oomens’. Telemann’s music too provided counterpoint: while the previous high-set aria gave the soprano voice chance to revel in passages of merry coloratura, he gifted the lower voice long, descending phrases, musically depicting a worshipper falling to her knees before her god.
We were spoiled when it came to baritones — there was not one but two: David Greco and Andrew O’Connor, who together gave a splendid and rousing performance of the duet Es Donnert, dass er verherrlichet werde. Here, Telemann rather subversively declared that it is the thunder — given deep voice by the two trilling, roaring, and yes, thunderous, baritones — that glorifies God. Fortissimo strings and timpani oscillated beneath Greco and O’Connor, as though transporting the two singers across treacherous seas. Helyard easily and expertly held the uproarious commotion together.
A recapitulation of the opening chorus Wie ist dein Name so groß concluded Telemann’s diverse musical feast, and brought the first half of the evening’s performance to a close.
According to the program notes, Bach enjoyed his Easter Oratorio so much that he performed it four times. Such a fact suggests that perhaps he did not perform his other works more than once or twice. He was, as we know, an extraordinarily prolific composer, and one can hardly imagine him finding time to compose and perform all of his many works even once.
There was a lot to enjoy about the Easter Oratorio, foremost its length. Those familiar with Bach’s St Matthew and St JohnPassions will know that they’re very long. The Easter Oratorio, however, gave us all the best bits (minus chorales, sadly) while still allowing us an early night. Another noteworthy difference was the comparatively more exultant nature of the text. All are rejoicing Jesus’ resurrection, rather than lamenting his crucifixion and decrying his suffering. I for one was relieved that there was not one pejorative reference to the Jews, which always grates during performances of St John Passion.
A highlight was the lilting tenor aria Sanfte soll mein Todeskummer, which almost brought me to tears for its soft, gentle beauty. Richard Butler’s tenor voice is a lesson in fine Bach singing — it is as though he was born to sing this music. He has excellent control over vibrato, frequently singing with straight tone, and only on occasion embellishing notes with a tasteful dab of vibrato. Butler seemed perhaps more comfortable in this repertoire than in the previous Telemann, giving a more relaxed performance than in the first half of the concert.
Much like Telemann’s Es Donnert, in Kommt eilet und laufet Bach gave the two male voices (Butler and Greco) a fun duet with a smattering of word painting. The men tastefully and tunefully laughed their way through the melismas on the repeated word ‘Lachen’.
Oomen’s Seele, deine Spezereien was particularly touching — again, her voice stood out as quite sublime, and she engaged the audience with her animated facial expressions, never hidden behind the score. Dowsley gave a lovely rendition of the alto aria Saget, saget mir geschwinde, but her particular strength seems to be for long, held notes, which are sumptuously round and carry well above the orchestra and out into the auditorium. When singing together, the four voices had excellent diction, and crisply, articulately and simultaneously arrived at final consonants, especially during the concluding (and uplifting) chorus Preis end Dank.
The orchestra was in fine form, with impressive solos from Amy Power on oboe d’amore, and Brock Imison on bassoon and contrabassoon (Telemann). Kirsty McCahon on bass was also a standout, appearing very animated from her side of the stage, and carrying the bass line with her richly toned instrument and precise playing.
I myself am not a religious person, but my concert companion commented that, for him, this was a wonderful ‘faith experience’, and he enjoyed the way Telemann set the text and used music to praise the glory of God. I can honestly admit that I didn’t listen to the music with this in mind, and was more focused on the quality of the music itself and the performances. But yes, it would be a great ‘faith experience’ for the faithful and believers among us; but equally, there was a lot there for non-believers such as myself to appreciate.
This was a wonderful concert, and what a privilege that we could enjoy it here in Melbourne. Let’s hope that Pinchgut keeps travelling south to share with this audience its fabulous music-making.
READ NEXT: Two young soloists talk us through Pinchgut’s exclusive Melbourne performance
Images supplied. Pinchgut live performance captured by Albert Comper.
