Sir Edward Elgar (1857-1934)
The Dream of Gerontius, Op 36 (1900)
Jamie Barton (mezzo-soprano – The Angel), Allan Clayton (tenor – Gerontius), James Platt (bass – The Priest/The Angel of the Agony)
London Philharmonic Choir; Hallé Choir
London Philharmonic Orchestra/Edward Gardner
rec. live, 31 August, 2022, Royal Albert Hall, London
Text included
London Philharmonic LPO-0138 [2 CDs: 88]
Earlier this year, I reviewed a live recording, made in Finland, of The Dream of Gerontius conducted by Nicholas Collon. The title role was to have been sung by Allan Clayton, I understand, but he was indisposed and his place was taken by John Findon. Since I have long wanted to hear Clayton in this role, his withdrawal from that project was a disappointment but now we have a chance to hear him in a performance given at the BBC Proms in August 2022.
The Dream of Gerontius has become one of the mainstays of the choral repertoire in the English-speaking world; do we take it for granted? I hope not – and I hasten to say that the present performance is one that, whilst fully respectful of performing tradition, certainly takes nothing for granted. The booklet is graced by a perceptive essay by Andrew Neill, a seasoned Elgarian, who served as Chairman of the Elgar Society between 1992 and 2008. In this essay he very justly notes that slightly over a century separates Haydn’s Creation (1798) and Gerontius (1900) and observes that these “two masterpieces [form] a bridge across the 19th century between two composers brought up in the faith of Rome”. He also cites Sir Stephen Hough’s observation that in 1900 Elgar’s choice of such a Catholic text “was to court disaster”. That’s true; as an example, for a good number of years the ecclesiastical authorities insisted on modifications to Newman’s words if a performance of Gerontius was to be permitted in one of the cathedrals which host the Three Choirs Festival. But in addition to Andrew Neill’s comment about the bridge between Haydn and Elgar, I think a further point should be made. Nothing (so far as I am aware) in 19th century oratorio tradition prepares the listener for the blazing originality of Gerontius. As I listened to this present performance, I reflected that such episodes as the Demon’s Chorus, the long build-up to ‘Praise to the Holiest’ and the second part of ‘Sanctus fortis’ (from ‘I can no more’) were completely unprecedented in the oratorio tradition and, in some ways, shook that tradition into the realm of opera. It had been suggested to Dvořák that he might use Newman’s poem as the basis for a choral work for the Birmingham Festival but he demurred. I’m a great admirer of Dvořák but I can’t imagine that he would have come up with such an original work as Elgar subsequently did. As is well known, the premiere of Gerontius in Birmingham was a disaster; the great conductor Hans Richter had failed to prepare himself properly and the chorus, trained by a stand-in, unsympathetic chorus master, was not equal to the manifold challenges of the work. If one listens to something like the Demon’s Chorus, it’s readily apparent that to premiere such music would have required a conductor, chorus and orchestra who were completely on top of their game. No wonder poor Elgar felt so let down.
There’s no question that everyone involved in this performance is anything other than on top of their game. Faced with the challenge of performing the work in the vast acoustic of the Royal Albert Hall, Edward Gardner very rightly determined that a large chorus was required. Looking at the photograph of the performance that is reproduced in the packaging of these CDs, there must have been at least 300 singers in the chorus. More than that, though, the members of the London Philharmonic Choir and the Hallé Choir are extremely well versed in this score. Both have significant experience of recording and performing it; this shows. The choral contribution throughout is first rate. The only slight disappointment I have is that the important semi-chorus was provided by members of the London Philharmonic Choir. I hasten to say that the singers involved are excellent. However, it might have been better to have a separate group, possibly a youth choir, as the semi-chorus. That would have given extra definition to the sound of the semi-chorus. This observation is prompted chiefly because in the section which concludes Part I (‘Proficiscere’) I found it hard to hear the important semi-chorus parts at times, even through headphones. That, however, is my sole reservation about the highly impressive choral work in this performance. Though the chorus is large, there’s no hint of any unwieldiness; on the contrary, the singing is taut and disciplined. Following in my vocal score, it was apparent that the chorus is attentive to dynamics; it might be argued that occasionally, the softest dynamics are not truly observed but one must remember that these singers’ primary task was to project the words and music into a very large hall, which is not the same as performing in a recording studio. The singing is very clear throughout; not only are the words delivered with clarity but also in complex episodes such as the double choir passage at the end of ‘Praise to the Holiest’ or the Demon’s Chorus, all the strands of Elgar’s part writing make their mark. For me, one of the biggest tests in the work is the extended Chorus of Angelicals that paves the way for ‘Praise to the Holiest’. Here, the chief responsibility lies on the female singers, who are divided into six parts (including the semi-chorus). All this music is ideally delivered; the ensemble is flawless and the sound of the singers is pure and bright.
Elsewhere, the Demon’s Chorus has splendid definition and incisiveness; in the second part of the chorus, the music is really punched out, not least the nasty cries of ‘Ha! Ha!’ The chorus makes a lovely contribution to the Farewell and their work in Part I is consistently excellent. Best of all, arguably, is ‘Praise to the Holiest’. The great outburst at the start of this chorus should strike the listener like a wall of sound. That’s just what happens here; it’s a great cry of acclamation. In a lesser performance, what follows in this chorus can be a bit of an anti-climax; not here. Gardner insists on – and gets – disciplined observance of all the many points of detail in the choral parts and as a result we hear the resource and originality of Elgar’s choral writing. Overall, these two choirs make a considerable contribution to the success of this performance.
Perhaps inevitably, it’s the singers, both solo and choral, who attract most attention and comment when Gerontius is performed. However, the orchestra has just as important a function to fulfil. In the ‘Enigma’ Variations (1899) Elgar had served notice of his mastery of the modern orchestra. In this oratorio he built on and developed his achievement in ‘Enigma’. Throughout this performance, the work of the LPO is exemplary. They set the tone for everything that is to follow with a wonderful account of the Prelude in which all the many nuances in Elgar’s score are expertly observed. I greatly admire the dynamic range of the orchestra in this Prelude – and elsewhere in the work; the soft playing is beautiful while the climaxes open up richly with never a suspicion of forced tone. Of course, one would expect this standard from one of the UK’s top orchestras but I think the point still should be made. By the same token, one should applaud the great sensitivity with which the strings play the Prelude to Part II. By this time, we are in a very different place to which Gerontius has passed and the Prelude is crucial to establishing the new ambience. The LPO strings do exactly that, playing with great refinement; then they, and their other colleagues, provide a wonderful tapestry against which the Soul of Gerontius and the Angel conduct their dialogue. Elgar used a rich and varied palette of orchestral colours throughout this score, enhancing and amplifying in a very Wagnerian manner what the voices are expressing. Gardner and the LPO do full justice to Elgar’s genius as an orchestrator.
It’s time to consider the three soloists. James Platt is a commanding Priest. Perhaps he could have brought a bit more compassion to the role but he is still very good. Arguably, he’s even more suited to the role of the Angel of the Agony. That role demands a big presence and Platt provides that. I’ve heard singers who have brought more to the lyrical aspect of this latter role but Platt is an impressive intercessor.
The American mezzo, Jamie Barton is an interesting choice as the Angel. She’s an intelligent interpreter of the role, putting an individual stamp on it, and she certainly has the vocal range; the low notes are negotiated with comfort and she delivers the Angel’s last ‘Alleluia’ – just before Gerontius sings ‘Take me away’ – with a thrilling top A. My hesitation over her performance is a subjective one; I don’t hear sufficient tenderness in her singing, though other listeners may well feel differently. So, for example, at cue 24 in the vocal score, she sings ‘It is because thou didst fear’ most expressively but a few bars later, I miss the tenderness/reassurance which several other singers have brought to ‘A presage falls upon thee’: is Ms Barton a bit too forthright here? On the other hand, the dramatic nature of the passage immediately before the Demon’s Chorus suits her very well – ‘hungry and wild’ is declaimed vividly. She makes a fine foil to Allan Clayton in the extended dialogue between their two characters at the start of Part II. The Farewell is well done. Ms Barton does show tenderness at the start of this episode but a little later, at ‘Farewell, but not forever’ she seems again a little more forthright than I am used to hearing. In short, there’s much to admire in her singing per se but I’m not entirely convinced by her characterisation of the role; her performance didn’t move me in the way that several other mezzos have done. I repeat, though, this is a subjective view; other listeners may warm more to her performance and admire it even more than I do.
Allan Clayton impressed me right from the start. The way he delivers his opening phrase (‘Jesu, Maria, I am near to death’) suggests the fear and frailty of a dying man; that’s no easy feat when one is projecting the music into such a large auditorium. Immediately, I was struck by the clarity of his voice and of his diction; that clarity will characterise his entire performance. He is marvellous in ‘Sanctus fortis’. In the opening pages of the aria – for that is what it is – he sings with great freedom and presence, getting the degree of expression just right; he makes this an exciting affirmation. But in the second half, soon after ‘I can no more’, the tone of Newman’s words changes and so does the music. Now there is fear and desperation as Gerontius has a nightmarish vision. Clayton conveys this most convincingly, yet remains firmly in control. He makes the conclusion of this long solo (from ‘O Jesu, help!) a memorably ardent cry for mercy and deliverance, culminating in a ringing, sustained top B-flat on ‘in Thine own agony’. As Gerontius’ life ebbs away, Clayton floats ‘Novissima hora est’ beautifully, the music borne along on a delicate thread of tone. In Part II, much of which calls for a completely different style of singing, Clayton is just as convincing. I love the light, easy delivery of the first phrases, after ‘I went to sleep’, as I do the way in which he conveys wonder at ‘How still it is’. As I’ve indicated earlier, the dialogue with the Angel goes very well, thanks not just to the excellence of the two singers but also to the fluent way in which Edward Gardner conducts the music, allowing it to breathe and to move conversationally. Mention of Gardner, whose conducting I’ll discuss in more detail shortly, prompts me to say that he and Clayton combine wonderfully to create a sense of awe at ‘I go before my judge’. The final test for the tenor soloist is ‘Take me away’. Even some of the finest tenors need to snatch a breath during that first phrase: not Clayton; the whole phrase is taken, thrillingly, in one breath and, indeed, one suspects he could have sustained the phrase for a bar or so longer had Elgar written it that way. Clayton sings the entirety of this last great solo superbly, crowning a memorable assumption of the role of Gerontius. It seems to me that he is, as I hoped he would be, ideally equipped for this role. He has all the Heldentenor heft for the big moments but is just as satisfying in the many passages requiring delicacy. On this showing, I wonder if there is a finer exponent of the role currently before the public.
Edward Gardner conducts the performance with great skill and conviction. I’ve already referenced the attention to detail from the chorus and orchestra; that stems, of course, from the podium. Gardner brings to the score the dramatic flair that one would expect from an experienced opera conductor but I think he’s equally successful in the more reflective sections of the work. When one listens to a work with which one is very familiar it’s almost inevitable that a moment will come where a tempo selection seems a little less than ideal. I can honestly say that never happened here. I’ve mentioned the flow that Gardner imparts to the dialogue between the Soul and the Angel; this conductor makes it all seem very natural. That sense of flow is evident again in the Farewell, which seems to me to be ideally paced. I really like the solemnity and, at times, the drama, with which he unfolds the Part I Prelude. There are times when he drives the music forward swiftly and excitingly – I think of the contrapuntal section of the Demon’s Chorus (‘Dispossessed, aside thrust’) or the animated last few pages of ‘Praise to the Holiest’ – yet whenever the music is pressed forwards it’s in accordance with the score; Elgar’s music is never rushed for the sake of surface excitement. Gardner’s interpretation of The Dream of Gerontius is very satisfying.
This fine performance is captured in excellent sound. Producer Anthony Sellors and engineer Philip Burwell have recorded the performers in such a way that one gets a true sense of the span of the stage – and the use of a substantial choir – while at the same time allowing lots of detail to register in a very natural way. The sound has lots of presence and I especially admire the firmness of the bass end of the orchestra and the way that the Royal Albert Hall organ (especially its pedal division) makes its contribution. I’ve already indicated that Andrew Neill’s notes are excellent.
I see that my colleague Keith McDonnell had the good fortune to be in the Royal Albert Hall to review the performance for Seen and Heard International.
When I next update my survey of the recordings of The Dream of Gerontius I’m certain that this splendid LPO version will be pressing for inclusion in the shortlist for “Best in Show”.
John Quinn
Other review: Dominic Hartley (November 2025)
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