Sir Edward Elgar (1857-1934)
The Dream of Gerontius, Op. 38 (1900)
Anna Stéphany (mezzo-soprano); Nicky Spence (tenor); Andrew Foster-Williams (bass-baritone)
Gabrieli Consort; Gabrieli Roar; Polish National Youth Choir
Gabrieli Players/Paul McCreesh
rec. 2023, Fairfield Halls, Croydon and Hereford Cathedral, UK
Text included
Signum Classics SIGCD785 [2 CDs: 95]
In all my years of listening to – and singing in – The Dream of Gerontius only once before now have I experienced a performance in which the orchestra played on instruments of the period. That was in 2009 when Jeffrey Skidmore conducted Ex Cathedra and the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment in a performance in Birmingham Town Hall, the very building in which the oratorio was unveiled to the world in 1900. Looking back at my review for Seen and Heard, I discovered that on that occasion, as here, the role of The Angel was taken by Anna Stéphany; that’s quite a coincidence.
Whenever I’ve reviewed a recording of Gerontius I’ve considered the singers first. On this occasion, though, I think it’s appropriate to begin by starting with the orchestra, since an important feature of this release is that it is the first time that the work has been recorded using instruments of Elgar’s time. Understandably, Paul McCreesh covers this aspect in some depth in the documentation accompanying the discs; some of the details he provides are fascinating. The woodwind, brass and percussion instruments are individually listed. The earliest among them is a trumpet, played by Crispian Steele-Perkins, which dates from 1837, but most of the instruments date from c1880 to 1923. Every section has a story or two to tell. The flutes and piccolos, for example, are all wooden instruments, which have a more mellow sound than the modern metal equivalents. The trumpets are all F Trumpets, for which Elgar wrote specifically in Gerontius. McCreesh even includes the three extra trumpets which Elgar requested for the few bars leading up to ‘Take me away’; I believe Simon Rattle incorporated these additional instruments on his 1986 recording but I’m not sure that many other conductors have done so. The two harps are French Erard instruments, one dating from 1896, the other from 1902. One or two specifics caught my eye, most notably that the trombonist Susan Addison actually plays on Elgar’s own instrument, made in about 1890, which was loaned by the Royal College of Music specifically for this project; that’s authenticity for you! No less remarkable is the French oboe (1911) on which Nicholas Daniel plays; it was formerly played by the great Léon Goossens. I recall that in 2018 he played this same instrument, on loan, in McCreesh’s remarkable An English Coronation project (review). Now we learn that Goossens’ daughter presented the instrument to Daniel after the Gerontius concert which, I believe, preceded this recording. The stringed instruments aren’t listed individually. We’re told that the Gabrieli Players use a “mixture of ‘transitional’ and more ‘modern’ instruments, strung with gut on all but lowest strings”. The drive for authenticity even extended to the organ, which has been dubbed on (very successfully). I suppose there might have been an argument for using the organ in Birmingham Town Hall, the instrument used to such thrilling effect in McCreesh’s 2011 recording of Elijah (review), since it was in that hall where the premiere of Gerontius was given. Instead, though, McCreesh and his organist William Fox selected the ‘Father’ Henry Willis organ of Hereford Cathedral. The organ was built in 1892 and though, inevitably, it has been refurbished over the years since then, it’s still a wholly authentic choice; the instrument was used for the second Three Choirs Festival performance of Gerontius in 1903 and has been used at countless subsequent performances of the oratorio, four of which were conducted by Elgar himself. (Famously, HMV’s mobile recording van was present at Hereford on 6 September 1927 when Elgar conducted Gerontius in the cathedral – with Sir Herbert Brewer playing the organ – though sadly only the recordings of four extracts from the work, totalling nearly 17 minutes, have survived.)
The Preludes to each part of the oratorio offer an excellent demonstration of what the period instruments bring to the project. From the very start of the Part I Prelude, I was struck by the clarity of the various instrumental lines; the sound of the orchestra is really transparent at all dynamic levels and the woodwind section has just the right degree of prominence. The first time we hear the organ (at Cue 9 in the vocal score), there’s a satisfying depth to the instrument’s sound. I really liked the way both the timpani and the bass drum register, and at Cue 14 the horns cut through marvellously. Jumping ahead to the Prelude to Part II, the Gabrieli string section produces a collective diaphanous sound which is other-worldly and establishes an ideal ambience for our first encounter with the Soul of Gerontius. That said, when I made a comparison with Sir Mark Elder’s very fine 2008 recording (review), I was reminded that the Hallé’s strings, though not using gut strings, produced playing of at least equal finesse. Throughout the oratorio, McCreesh’s orchestra makes a wonderful sound. There’s absolutely no suggestion of thin tone; the climaxes have power and presence, while the many passages of quiet, refined music are imbued with delicacy, subtlety and transparency. The contribution of the Hereford Cathedral organ is conspicuously successful; on several occasions the instrument produces deep, resonant pedal notes which enrich the texture. In Part II, during the orchestral passage from Cue 72 (leading up to ‘And now the threshold…’) the organ pedal part makes a telling contribution and the full organ provides a mighty sound at ‘Praise to the Holiest’.
Besides the period instruments, another important feature of this recording is that the chorus comprises young singers from the UK and Poland. Over the last few years, Paul McCreesh and Gabrieli have done fantastic work with young musicians, mostly of school age, through the Gabrieli Roar project. The young people have been involved in several major projects which McCreesh and his colleagues have toured around the UK, training the youngsters and then giving them the opportunity to perform in concert the music they’ve learned. At a time when musical education is under such threat in the UK’s state schools, the worth of Gabrieli Roar is incalculable. Collaborating with the Gabrieli Consort, members of Gabrieli Roar provided the chorus, to thrilling effect on the An English Coronation (review). I also had the chance to experience their quality at a memorable performance of Haydn’s Creation at the 2021 Three Choirs Festival (review).
This recording involves a choir of about 150, the overwhelming majority of whom are the youthful singers from the UK and Poland. (The Gabrieli Consort members provide the semi-chorus). The choir acquit themselves very well indeed. Despite the youth of the singers, I wasn’t aware of any lack of firmness in the bass line. What strikes the listener particularly is the freshness of the sound. That’s especially evident in the extended passage leading up to ‘Praise to the Holiest’; in these pages, the sopranos and altos, singing as the Angelicals, offer a purity and lightness of tone which is really refreshing. We may be listening to young singers, but there’s no lack of body when it comes to the big chorus moments such as the ensemble that concludes ‘Proficiscere’ at the end of Part I. ‘Praise to the Holiest’ is also a conspicuous success. The way this chorus is delivered typifies the attention to detail, especially in the matter of dynamics, which is a hallmark of the chorus work throughout this Gerontius. By scrupulously observing Elgar’s copious dynamic markings the choir sustains our interest during the whole of ‘Praise to the Holiest’. Towards the end of that chorus, McCreesh really puts them to the test, setting a challengingly fast tempo; his choir are completely undaunted and articulate the music really well. The only criticism I have concerns the Demons’ Chorus. The singing per se is good and full-bodied but it simply doesn’t sound nasty. I was reminded of Barbirolli’s celebrated injunction that his choir should not sing this portion of the work like bank clerks. The music should spit and snarl, with hard – nay, harsh – vowel sounds; here, I’m afraid it all sounds too polite. That one cavil aside, the combined chorus does a terrific job and their collective commitment is self-evident. The Gabrieli Consort represents luxury casting for the semi-chorus.
Its time to consider the soloists. Andrew Foster-Williams has the least to do. He’s more successful, I think, in ‘Proficiscere’, which he sings with presence. Unfortunately, though, it seems to me that he sings the solo with insufficient attention to Elgar’s dynamic markings; the result is rather unvaried. I wasn’t greatly taken by his depiction of the Angel of the Agony. Here, he pays rather more attention to the dynamics but I don’t feel he provides the expressive quality I expect. Overall, he’s no match for Bryn Terfel (who sings for Elder), John Shirley-Quirk (on either the Britten or Rattle recordings) or, especially, for the commanding Robert Lloyd (Boult).
Anna Stéphany is an excellent Angel. Her very first entry in Part II inspires confidence; her singing is poised and clear and she offers reassurance to the Soul of Gerontius. I like the warmth she brings to ‘You cannot now cherish a wish’. She contributes significantly to the success of the extended dialogue between Gerontius and the Angel. When the two characters briefly sing together (at Cue 27) the voices are much better balanced than is often the case; for this Nicky Spence must take a good deal of the credit for observing the dynamics and recognising that his tessitura is mostly higher than that of his partner. I admired the tenderness which Ms Stéphany brings to ‘Yes, for one moment…’ and her narration of ‘There was a mortal…’ is delivered with fine expression. I was a bit disappointed that she is not more fervent at ‘Praise to His name…’ but her singing of the Farewell is both touching and sincere. She brings great dignity and no little reassurance to these closing pages. Anna Stéphany may not quite match the eloquence of Dame Sarah Connolly or leave an indelible mark on phrase after phrase in the way that Dame Janet Baker did, but hers is nonetheless a fine and convincing portrayal of the Angel. I enjoyed her singing very much.
Nicky Spence is outstanding as Gerontius. The role is hugely challenging owing to the almost unreasonable demands that Elgar makes. On the one hand, the tenor needs the power and stamina of a Heldentenor for passages such as ‘Sanctus fortis’ and ‘Take me away’. On the other hand, much of the role, especially in Part Two, demands the subtlety of a Lieder singer. Spence, I think, is equally successful on both counts. He scored high marks with me right at the start: in ‘Jesu, Maria, I am near to death’ he suggests more convincingly than I’ve experienced from most tenors the apprehension and frailty of a dying man. A little later, he gathers his courage at ‘Rouse thee, my fainting soul’. His main test in Part I is, of course, ‘Sanctus fortis’. He makes a marvellous job of this challenging solo. Here, as elsewhere, he’s very attentive to dynamic markings and he really identifies with the text. I found his performance compelling. If anything, he’s even better in Part II. He sings his first solo (‘I went to sleep’) with a mixture of calmness and wonder. Throughout his dialogue with the Angel, he characterises the music really well, singing off the words; for instance, ‘I would have nothing but to speak with thee…’ blends uncertainty and curiosity in an ideal fashion: this is singing of great intelligence. He sings ‘I go before my judge’ with a proper sense of awe. Then, he sets the seal on his performance with a memorable account of ‘Take me away’. The opening phrase is taken, thrillingly, in a single breath and the rest of the solo is sung with great expression and conviction. In summary, Nicky Spence here gives one of the finest performances of Gerontius on disc.
Paul McCreesh conducts the work very well indeed. It’s evident that he has prepared both the orchestra and chorus thoroughly for this assignment. I found most of his conducting very convincing. Occasionally, a tempo raised my eyebrows a little: I wonder, for example, if the tempo for the second half of ‘Praise to the Holiest’ (from Cue 89) is not just a little too urgent? Because he then rightly observes Elgar’s several injunctions to speed up, the pace is very fast indeed by the time the end of the chorus approaches. On the other hand, the results are undeniably exciting. For the most part, though, I thought that McCreesh’s tempo selections were appropriate and I was consistently convinced that his conducting conveyed the spirit of the music. Both of the Preludes, for example, are spacious and well-shaped. In the build up to ‘Take me away’ (from cue 118) his tempo is judiciously broad and he racks up the tension most effectively until the shattering moment when Gerontius gets a fleeting sight of God. Earlier in Part II, I very much approve of the fluid pacing that McCreesh brings to the dialogue between Gerontius and the Angel; there’s a very natural sense of flow. The extended lead up to ‘Praise to the Holiest’ is very well handled and the opening of that chorus, taken broadly, is a magnificent moment. McCreesh conducts throughout with great conviction.
The performance has been recorded very well indeed by producer Nicholas Parker and engineer Neil Hutchinson. The sound has presence and impact. There’s plenty of definition and I found that I could hear a great deal of inner choral and orchestral detail. The three soloists are very well balanced and, as I indicated earlier, the Hereford Cathedral organ has been convincingly integrated into the aural picture. I liked the sound, whether I was listening through loudspeakers or headphones.
The presentational aspects of the release are excellent. As is customary with Gabrieli releases, everything is housed in a stout hardback package. The documentation includes a thoughtful short essay by Sir Stephen Hough (who can approach Gerontius from the dual perspective of a Roman Catholic, as Newman was, and a musician). There’s also a most interesting note about the background to the work by the harpsichordist Mahan Esfahani. As I mentioned earlier, Paul McCreesh himself writes in fascinating detail about ‘Recreating an Elgar Orchestra’.
This recording of The Dream of Gerontius is a considerable achievement per se and it includes one of the finest interpretations of the title role that I’ve heard on disc. In addition, it’s another significant feather in the cap of the Gabrieli Roar project. Where will Paul McCreesh take his young singers next, I wonder?
Help us financially by purchasing from
