Photos by r.r. jones
Bruno Weil’s 19th, and last, season as music director of the Carmel Bach Festival happens, by timely rotation, to include the St. Matthew Passion. Heard Sunday at Carmel’s Sunset Center, this production of the great work was the most satisfying of the many times he has performed it there. Whether he himself would agree that he felt more engaged, only he can say. Despite the festival’s namesake, Weil has gravitated further afield than any of his predecessors, squeezing out Bach to make room in favor of his personal preference for the classical masters Haydn, Beethoven, and Mozart, not to mention other composers from the early Baroque and the 19th and 20th centuries.
Over these last two decades, however, Weil has polished and enhanced his programming by aligning later works with their antecedent Baroque prototypes and deferring earlier music to a stable of outstanding instrumental and vocal specialists in their field. Moreover, he has introduced many Bach cantatas not previously heard at the 73-year-old Carmel festival. This season, in particular, looks great on paper. (Some tickets remain available for performances of Brahms’ Alto Rhapsody and Song of Destiny; Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5; Monteverdi’s Vespers of 1610; vocal and instrumental works of Bach, Beethoven, Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Schubert, Schumann, and Weber; plus numerous recitals and events.)
If Weil’s approach to the St. Matthew Passion stayed the same, one production after another, then the success of this one owes a great deal to Andrew Megill, associate conductor and director of the festival choirs. Megill’s chorus here numbered 27 (about three voices per part), resulting in bracingly transparent textures. The counterpoint, like the antiphonal back-and-forth, could hardly have been cleaner and more vivid (though heftier than the one-voice-per-part argument strongly advocated by Joshua Rifkin and others). Megill found the sweet spot that, along with the streamlined orchestra, imparted a greater sense of continuity to Weil’s typical “let’s get on with it” tempos. It’s not often that an old bird like myself can make the claim that three hours felt like two.
Weil’s performances of Bach have sometimes been erratic, exhibiting an ambivalence of feeling for “the old wig.” Tempos and textures have blurred one another; texts, so crucial to Bach’s intentions, have been glossed over in favor of an instrumental conception; readings have sometimes felt more like the work of a dutiful kapellmeister than an artist, much less a visionary one. While Weil’s immediate predecessor, Sandor Salgo, was far from informed about Baroque performance practice, there was never any doubt that he loved Bach’s music. Audiences from Salgo to Weil “got it” immediately. And some subscribers never came back. (One who did was the late Big Sur artist and congenital Bach-lover Emile Norman, to whom this production is dedicated.)
This time, though, the leaner chorus and similarly scaled orchestra made a near-perfect match to Weil’s tempos and balances. While I could have wished for more moments of expressive elasticity, I felt that the old argument that the Baroque style is essentially about dance was well-served.
Power From the People
Personal expression was concentrated on the individual singers and instrumental obbligatos that accompanied them. Choristers who took character parts (Judas, Peter, Pilate, false witnesses, and so on) added impressively to the narrative. The chorus itself was divided in two, not only for antiphonal call and response but also to symbolize the disciples, on the one hand, and the crowd on the other. Joined together, they powered up the drama, especially in the seizure and arrest of Jesus after the betrayal and violent earthquake that punctuates his mortal death on the cross. (A chorus of 20 schoolgirls intoned treble chorales during the extravagant choral scenes that open and close Part I of the work.)
The solo vocal quartet offered its own personal take on the arias, to a lesser or greater degree from — curiously — top to bottom, largely depending on how much vocal horsepower each possessed. Soprano Kendra Colton showed the narrowest dynamic range, despite her polished production. Mezzo Sally-Anne Russell came up with more contrasts and colors. Thomas Cooley, the tenor, used spinto-technique to punch up his character and indulged a more flamboyant use of dynamics. And baritone Sanford Sylvan used his still-greater range and energy to draw the most vivid dynamics, from room-filling authority to a beguiling sotto voce. In that sense alone, his was the most compelling storytelling. From Part I, memorable scenes among them included the tenor aria “Ich will bei meinem Jesu wachen” and the bass aria “Gerne will ich mich bequemen” with the second violin section. Oboes (including da caccia and d’amore) and flutes added distinctive colors to the other arias.
In Part II, viola da gamba, together with theorbo, accompanied both the tenor aria “Geduld!” and the bass aria “Komm, süsses Kreuz.” The great mezzo aria “Erbarme dich” was especially riveting, given highly individual character both from Russell and from Concertmaster Elizabeth Wallfisch’s obbligato solo, set against the weeping first-violin section, while the following bass aria, “Gebt mir meinem Jesum wieder,” was similarly supported by the second violins with the almost violent virtuoso solo by section leader Cynthia Roberts. The haunting soprano aria “Aus Liebe” was made eerie with only oboes and flute but no bass-line instruments, only to be shocked by the chorus once again demanding that Jesus be crucified. As ever, Sylvan imparted great depth of expression to his final recitative, “Am Abend” aria “Mache dich, mein Herze, rein.”
As Weil says good-bye to Carmel, so will his concertmaster, Wallfisch; stage director/musicologist Michael Becker; and most of the “family” of solo singers who have appeared year in and year out, including the indefatigable “evangelist” Alan Bennett, Colton, Russell, Cooley, and Sylvan. If that’s a cause of sadness for some, the good news is that Megill and his fabulous chorus will remain. This has be reassuring to incoming Music Director Paul Goodwin, who is expected to be present next week for the repeat of the first week’s programs.
In his own comments, Weil says he has been “awed, inspired and transformed by the genius” of Bach. The process of observing this transformation over these last two decades has itself proven as fascinating as it has been often controversial. Goodwin’s plans have not been released yet, but he will be receiving a powerful cultural treasure that owes as much to Bruno Weil as anyone else, except perhaps J.S. Bach.