While the Los Angeles Philharmonic was introducing the
Lincoln Center crowd to John Adams’ new biblical account, The Gospel According to the Other Mary, many New York City
ensembles chose to move forward traditional Eastertime programming. Chief
among them was Thursday night’s pairing of the Orchestra of St. Luke’s with the
venerable Musica Sacra, presenting Bach’s beloved and perennial St. Matthew Passion at Carnegie Hall.
Under the direction of Budapest Festival Orchestra conductor Iván Fischer, the
ensembles presented a robust—if, at times, uneven—presentation of the choral
masterwork.
Riding the critical high of last year’s innovative presentation
of the Mozart Requiem—a performance
that brilliantly interspersed the chorus and soloists with members of the
orchestra—Fischer also incorporated some avant-garde stage settings into the
Bach: separating the two orchestras by a considerable distance (calling to mind
Moses’ parting the seas), and allowing both singers and soloists to engage the
audience while traversing various segments of the stage.
For a three-hour work, such stage elements are welcome,
adding a dimension of drama to an otherwise operatic textual treatment. As
opposed to the diverse sound world of the Mass
in B minor, the Passion can
become staid at times, relying on a large amount of recitative and narration
from the Evangelist to account for the many twists and turns in the story. As
the Evangelist, John Tessier gave a strict account of the central role,
delivering very little in terms of vocal nuance or color, even as the tragic
elements quickly unfolded around him. Luckily, the mighty voice of Hanno
Müller-Brachmann was captivating throughout, delivering vivid accounts of
Jesus, Judas, Peter, and Pilate.
The vocal highlights of the evening, however, belonged to
soprano Dominique Labelle and alto Barbara Kozelj, who imbued their respective
arias and duets with crystal-clear diction, sophisticated phrasing, and a
solemn stage presence. In Part One’s early aria, “Buß und Reu,” Kozelj
presented a pious woman filled with reverence after washing the head of Jesus,
despite being mocked by the disciples for her extravagant use of expensive oil.
Pleading that her “teardrops be an acceptable anointing to you, faithful Jesus,”
Kozelj’s rich lower register complemented the falling staccato flute motion of
Orchestra I’s Elizabeth Mann and Sheryl Henze.
The orchestra was voiced well throughout the work, relying
on the rich use of flutes, oboe d’amours, and organs that rose above the string
bodies. And despite some inarticulate entrances and lost soprano voices in the
opening chorus, “Kommt, ihr Töchter,” Musica Sacra was as strong as
always—adding a sense of deep reverence to the many chorales conveying both
fire and brimstone (“Sind Blitze, sind Donner in Wolken”) and eternal peace
(“Wir setzen uns mit Thränen nieder”).
Perhaps the only misfortune of the evening was the location
of the performance: While many would promote Carnegie Hall as a sacred space
and an altar to music, Bach’s devotional setting and Lutheran restraint lost
some of its much-needed intimacy in the large, gilded hall. Stern Auditorium’s
blank canvas of a back wall left the stage feeling empty, and one couldn’t help
but think that splendid moments like Müller-Brachmann’s chilling delivery of
“Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani” would have been all the more effective if complemented
by stained glass, stone naves, and a crucifix hanging high above.