Händel - Theodora

Théâtre des Champs Elysées, Paris, Monday November 22 2021

Conductor: Maxim Emelyanychev. Theodora: Lisette Oropesa. Irene: Joyce DiDonato. Septimius: Michael Spyres. Valens: John Chest. Didymus: Paul-Antoine Bénos-Djian. Messenger: Massimo Lombardi. Orchestra and chorus: Il Pomo d'Oro.

 

Only the other day I was telling someone how much I still enjoy Johannes Somary's recordings of Händel, with what now seem 'old-school' Händelians like Sheila Armstrong, Felicity Palmer, Helen Watts and Robert Tear, and the harpsichord banging away like a Bösendorfer. But since then, over the years the 'HIP' movement has largely got us used (or should I say 'inured'?), in France at any rate, to a different kind of voice in pre-1760 opera, so to find Lisette Oropesa, Joyce DiDonato and Michael Spyres cast in Theodora now comes as a surprise, especially with a 'HIP' band like Il Pomo d'Oro. It seemed too good to be true, but true it was, so I bought tickets and went.

'Exalted and radiant beauty' was a term I found online, referring to Händel's score, that suits Lisette Oropesa's Theodora. It isn't a work that plays to or shows off what we might see as her strengths, but the agility she deploys so brilliantly in 'flashier' roles brings a special degree of precision and piquancy to such details as grace notes and trills. Her overall effect was of silvery gorgeousness (in very satisfactory contrast to Joyce DiDonato's bronze gilt timbre), dignity befitting a saintly princess, and remarkable consistency of sound throughout. A little more variety and less stoic placidity might in fact have been welcome, but this concert tour didn't emerge from staged performances, and the strange partis pris of the concert worked against, not in favour, of dramatic intensity, more of which later. The part did seem a little low for her, possibly owing to 'period' tuning, but the result was to allow us to revel in her rich middle register.

Händel

The last time I saw Joyce DiDonato in Händel was way back in 2004 as Dejanira, on the evening her breathtaking da capo of 'Cease, ruler of the day, to rise' was ruined by a smartphone tootling the overture to Carmen, sending Christie, irascible over audience noise at the best of times ('When you're ready,' I once heard him shout before eventually starting to conduct), ballistic. I was curious to hear how her voice had evolved since, and surprised to find how little it has changed. 

What we witnessed was a virtuoso performance by a world-class, seasoned Händel singer, with beautifully managed dynamics, floating daring and stunning pianissimi, but also some welcome vehemence emphasising the text. Of course, people compare any Irene to the late Lorraine Hunt in Sellars' famous production, but as someone I read online remarked, DiDonato's is definitely 'A little more stern Midwestern than LHL's Earth Mother take.'

Still, she, too, remained relatively detached, dramatically speaking, as even more so did Michael Spyres, though he sometimes took furiously rapid tempi and made them sound as easy as humming a ditty.

Paul-Antoine Bénos-Djian is new to me. He proved to be a very promising young countertenor, fully audible (unlike some), with an unusually warm, dark, round timbre that even, at times, brought Dame Janet Baker to mind, engaging stage presence and obvious commitment. He still, however, has work to do (e.g. taking breaths mid-phrase or even mid-word his elders wouldn't have needed to), as does the evening's Valens, John Chest. A baritone singing a bass, or at least a bass-baritone role, he has a very agreeable top register, but lacked force lower down and the black, villainous oomph needed in this kind of 'Händelian angry man' part.

The orchestra and chorus were small: sixteen singers and, if I counted correctly, nine violons, four violas, three 'cellos and two basses, a lute and a handful of wind players. The playing was lively and the ensemble admirably together - in the sense that they played with the ease of people used to being together, as if they hardly needed a conductor at all.

Giulia Frasi

However, one severe comment I read this week was that it was as if 'the conductor hadn't really thought at all about what possibilities there were in the music.' I probably wouldn't have gone so far as 'at all', but I agree the result was, in the end, what the French call 'monochrome'. I sat there thinking somebody like Gardiner or Christie would have elicited greater variety of colour out of the orchestra over the three-hour stretch - and also have insisted the (albeit excellent) chorus sing more as if the words really meant something. What a shame, for example, not to make something more striking out of a word like 'snatched', not to mention 'death'.

I mentioned above that the strange partis pris of the concert version worked against, rather than for, dramatic impact. Oddly, by and large the soloists stayed off-stage when not singing, often even when, according to the plot, being sung to by a colleague. Interaction was kept to a very bare minimum. This, the pauses induced by all the comings and goings, and the imbalance between the three more experienced singers and their younger colleagues (less obvious on the broadcast, available free of charge, at the time of writing, on Medici TV), led to a curiously disjointed, semi-detached evening - more like some kind of Händel gala with superstar showpieces interspersed with junior supporting acts and choral and orchestral interludes, than a coherent dramatic work. None of which stopped it being loudly applauded by a full house, Covid or not.

If I understand correctly, the performance will be recorded in Essen for commercial release. As I said above, the weaknesses I've so nigglingly picked on were less obvious in the broadcast, so they'll be less obvious on CD, too. I just hope that by then, someone will have injected a bit more dramatic urgency into the whole show.