The following Saturday I returned to another work I performed earlier this autumn, The Dream of Gerontius in Colston Hall. Again we had new soloists (ours were Mark Padmore, Susan Bickley and David Stout), conductor (Adrian Partington) and orchestra (Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra) and the chorus was just Bristol Choral Society (with semi-chorus and some other singers from the BBC National Chorus of Wales). Bath’s own Peter King played the organ.
I’m not going to do any direct comparisons to the other performance I sang in this autumn, so here are some random thoughts on The Dream of Gerontius:
- If you happen to have a bootleg recording of Kathleen Ferrier singing the role of the Angel, the musical world would like to hear from you.
- I was sat near the percussion and on display there was a set of bells on a strap, but I never heard them. Presumably I was singing at the moment when they were used. Likewise, I’m a bit vague about exactly where the organ is played, though I was aware of it some of the time.
- I imagine not even many Catholics have eschatology quite like this any more. It all makes the process of salvation seem very complicated. Contrast the poster that was on display in local churches: a crucifix with the slogan ‘The hard work’s already been done’. But in an age where there’s widespread folk belief in guardian angels, it might not be as out of touch as at first appears.
- Gerontius has what seems to be a rather crowded deathbed, surrounded by a choir of friends and a priest. Does he have no relatives?
- The reviewers of the Cardiff performance commented on how prominent the Wagnerian influence on the work was. It’s quite fun trying to work out the leitmotif-like phrases and what they signify. And at the end, someone consigns someone they love to be surrounded by fire for a while, and sings farewell to them. How much more Wagnerian a scenario do you want?
- I find the libretto towards the end a bit confusing. Who exactly is coming back to whom?
- We used the passage immediately before Praise to the Holiest (along with the opening of Webern’s Passacaglia and a Beethoven string quartet) as a test piece when buying new speakers. I now can’t hear or sing it without thinking of hifi.
- There are alternative notes for the chorus if Sanctus, Fortis is sung in A flat. Was this once common practice? Surely any tenor who could sing the opening of ‘Take me away’ could sing ‘Sanctus, Fortis’ in B flat?
- Our demons this time would have been demonic enough even for a Guardian reviewer. But Newman (and Elgar) gives them a satirical edge. I modelled my interpretation on those Bathonians who will only associate with those whose house is thought to be at least as large as theirs: ‘Our crowns got taken away … and given to people like THAT!’ This raises a more serious question though. How do you depict evil, as opposed to evil thoughts or actions? Should one even try to?
We had an appreciative review on the BBC Music Magazine’s web site.