November 16, 2009
As gales and tempests chased around the dome of the Sheldonian Theatre last night, those inside entered an entrancing sylvan world of 'Pastoral Symfonye', evoked by masters of the art. In an eighteenth century programme which celebrated the power and beauty of nature, from panoramic sweeps to a single nightingale’s note, the evening was a musical delight.
The London Handel Players’ consummately confident opening rendition of Jean-Fery Rebel’s ‘Chaos’ from Les Elémens – revolutionary in its day – still has the power to shock: ‘like someone falling on a piano’, director Adrian Butterfield commented. By separating this movement from those marking the establishment of Order, in the more measured, playful dances of ‘La terre et l’eau’,’ Caprice’ and Rachel Brown’s sparkling flute in ‘Rossignols’, Rebel’s virtuosity was the more evident.
The introduction of Emma Kirkby drew wild applause from the audience. Despite her fame and vast recording repertoire, one of the greatest pleasures of the concert was the evident joy with which Miss Kirkby celebrated the opportunity of live performance, gazing around the Sheldonian with the smiling acknowledgement of a former Oxford classics student. Over the years her peerless voice has changed from bell-like, unadorned purity, to a fuller, more rounded sound which still, in pieces such as Lampe’s Pretty Warblers is exquisite – a combination of needle-sharp intonation and rich vibrato, both commanding and graceful. Hayes’ The Poet and the Rose was suffused with dramatic wit and irony, yet never at the expense of punctilious attention to musical structure, and Purcell’s Evening Hymn was sublime.
A surprise delight was Clare Salaman’s fascinating introduction to the hurdy-gurdy, which she subsequently played with great skill and verve in a wonderful performance of Vivaldi/Chedeville’s ‘Spring’ from Les Saisons Amusantes. Chilcott’s Orpheus with his Lute was a superb showcase for all the performers’ talents, and brought many of the audience to their feet, and the musicians back for three bows and an encore, in which Miss Kirkby sang of Solomen’s celebration of the joys of peace. In it, she lauds ‘lasting pleasure’ – an impression the audience were left with, long after they had passed into the darkness of a rainy night.
The London Handel Players’ consummately confident opening rendition of Jean-Fery Rebel’s ‘Chaos’ from Les Elémens – revolutionary in its day – still has the power to shock: ‘like someone falling on a piano’, director Adrian Butterfield commented. By separating this movement from those marking the establishment of Order, in the more measured, playful dances of ‘La terre et l’eau’,’ Caprice’ and Rachel Brown’s sparkling flute in ‘Rossignols’, Rebel’s virtuosity was the more evident.
The introduction of Emma Kirkby drew wild applause from the audience. Despite her fame and vast recording repertoire, one of the greatest pleasures of the concert was the evident joy with which Miss Kirkby celebrated the opportunity of live performance, gazing around the Sheldonian with the smiling acknowledgement of a former Oxford classics student. Over the years her peerless voice has changed from bell-like, unadorned purity, to a fuller, more rounded sound which still, in pieces such as Lampe’s Pretty Warblers is exquisite – a combination of needle-sharp intonation and rich vibrato, both commanding and graceful. Hayes’ The Poet and the Rose was suffused with dramatic wit and irony, yet never at the expense of punctilious attention to musical structure, and Purcell’s Evening Hymn was sublime.
A surprise delight was Clare Salaman’s fascinating introduction to the hurdy-gurdy, which she subsequently played with great skill and verve in a wonderful performance of Vivaldi/Chedeville’s ‘Spring’ from Les Saisons Amusantes. Chilcott’s Orpheus with his Lute was a superb showcase for all the performers’ talents, and brought many of the audience to their feet, and the musicians back for three bows and an encore, in which Miss Kirkby sang of Solomen’s celebration of the joys of peace. In it, she lauds ‘lasting pleasure’ – an impression the audience were left with, long after they had passed into the darkness of a rainy night.