Richard Egarr’s Uneven Account of HWV 56

Last night in Herbst Theatre the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra & Chorale (PBO) joined the ranks of the many other choral institutions that celebrate Christmas with a performance of George Frideric Handel’s HWV 56 oratorio Messiah. Music Director Richard Egarr conducted from behind a harpsichord, as he has done for most of his past PBO performances, first as a visitor and now as the leader. Sadly, the Fates were not kind to this offering for a variety of reasons.

Most importantly, only one of the announced vocal soloists, mezzo Rihab Chaieb, was present for the performance. Soprano Elisa Sunshine replaced Stefanie True, tenor Christopher Oglesby replaced Andrew Tortise, and baritone Hadleigh Adams replaced Joshua Bloom. Needless to say, all of the vocalists were familiar with Handel’s score; but it is likely that the replacements spent less time with Egarr than would have been appreciated. This may have been more critical than usual, because Egarr was determined to put his own personal stamp on every one of the individual movements of this oratorio in three parts that last for about 150 minutes.

Anyone that has seen Egarr lead knows that his approach to performance is physical to the max. How many postures and gestures in his richly-endowed knapsack actually contribute to an interpretation of the music is left as an exercise for the observer. As John Cage used to say about his own performances, “Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn’t.” Last night Egarr’s approach to leadership never seemed to “work.” Whether it involved the soloists, the Chorale, or the instrumentalists, what was happening on stage never seemed to catch on, at least for this listener, who was trying his best to be attentive.

Fortunately, there were a modest number of moments that I would not have missed for the world. When Chaieb was singing, there was never a dull moment (and that included her singing along with the Chorale during the “Hallelujah” movement). Furthermore, she had the gift of communicating through bodily comportment, rather than any repertoire of postures and gestures. Hers was the contribution to the entire evening that made the experience worth while. The same could be said of the handful of instances when trumpeter Kathrun Adduci could play period instrument. Her “star turn,” of course, was during “The trumpet shall sound;” but even the brief appearance of the trumpet during Part One (which was played from the balcony) was memorable.