Californian whose sensual, ethereal piano & guitar compositions explore spiritual and emotional realms.
The particular strength of the Teldec reissue is its splendid cast, all of whom are technically outstanding, invest their every word with meaning and make recitatives fully alive. The titlerole is in fact one of the smallest, but Tear makes a burly, headstrong king, who handles the scene of the writing on the wall with fine dramatic instinct… Palmer is immensely moving… Esswood, as Daniel, impresses by the beauty of his tone and his command of long phrases; Lehane's brilliantly exuberant ornamentation, apparently improvisatory, marks her as a natural mistress of the style…and van der Bilt shows a rich voice throughout… The Stockholm Chamber Choir is firm-toned and tidy.
Joachim Carlos Martini is obviously a conscientious and intelligent musician. Like Robert King before him, he opts for the overture used in the 1744 revival, as only a continuo part survives of the original overture. Acknowledging that we cannot be certain of what the first performance did or did not include, he also picks and chooses items from the various editions and texts (among them Chrysander, Bernd Baselt and Robert King himself) available to him.
This is a wonderful performance, certainly without the digital fidelity, given the record date (1969), but for the same reason, with the warmth that many miss in the digital coldness. But the greater excellence of this version lies in the marvelous and powerful female voices: Helen Watts (Dame of the British Empire), the African-Amerincan Reri Grist (Bohm choice for Mozart and Strauss), and above all the huge canadian contralto Maureen Forrester. Simply marvelous, for those that love real music.
This is the latest in a long series of Handel oratorios that Budday has recorded (in public performances) for K&K's "Maulbronn Monastery Edition". Above all, tenor Hulett places very honorably. The chorus is particularly energetic and expressive this time. It is extraordinarily vivid, to be sure, with individual singers and even sections of the chorus, very precisely placed in the sonic spread. Ten recordings (in English) over the years, and so many of them of value - that's a good showing for Handel's profoundly moving, valedictory masterpiece.
Jephtha, first performed in 1752, was Handel’s last major work, written while he was struggling with poor health and failing eyesight. Yet the score contains some of his most powerful and moving music, notably the chorus’s bleak paean to blind faith, ‘How dark, O Lord, are Thy decrees!’ Jephtha is also one of his more operatic oratorios and, if many Baroque operas require the suspension of disbelief, this libretto (by Thomas Morell) may need modern listeners to suspend their distaste at the perversities of its 18th-century pietism. Handel’s wonderfully humane music cuts through all such sanctimony, however, as if – as the Handel scholar Winton Dean has argued – in highlighting the themes of personal suffering and capricious fate, Handel implicitly ‘makes Jehovah the villain of the piece’.