Glyndebourne Prom : Pelléas et Mélisande, Royal Albert Hall

From the original production of Pelléas et Mélisande - note the pannelled walls

Prom 5 at the Royal Albert Hall - Debussy Pelléas et Mélisande from Glyndebourne.   This is an opera where meaning is deliberately elusive. That is the nature of symbolism : it can and should reveal different things.   Symbolism by definition means thinking beyond surface impressions.  The greater a listener's emotional and visual literacy the more he and she will get from the experience.   Without empathy you're not really alive. That's the story of Golaud's life. Even as Mélisande dies, he can think only of himself and no further.  Thus the challenge of  Pelléas et Mélisande.  There is so much in this amazing opera that you'd be mad to take it on surface appearances.   Should we be like philistine Golaud or like sensitive Pelléas ?  Alas, the Golauds of this world won't even get that question.   Please see my review Herheim Vindicated HERE.  I've written in some detail, but it deserves it.


Pelléas et Mélisande  is such an abstract opera that it lends itself to concert performances and semi-stagings, which is fine, but opera is music theatre, not "pure" music, though this opera comes closer than most.  An intelligent staging like Herheim’s adds immeasurably, if you pay attention.  Art exists to open up possibilities, to expand understanding. It's not a fixed consumer product assembled to meet customer specifations. Golaud finds Mélisande in the forest but isn't interested in anything but himself, and never learns. Allemonde is a microcosm of the world (that's why it's Allemonde) where the countryside is dying, like Golaud's arid soul.   But I was glad to,listen again at this Prom.  Orchestrally, Ticciati and the London Philharmonic Orchestra were less uneven than they'd been at the performance I attended when there were rough patches.   There were good moments, as there were tonight at the Royal Albert Hall. Perfectly acceptable, though not reaching the heights of true inspiration.

Again, Christopher Purves singing Golaud was superb. His timbre is strong, suggesting the brutishness in Golaud's personality, while also suggesting the terrified frustration that makes limited minds reject what they can't comprehend.  Making Golaud sympathetic is quite a feat but Purves pulls it off.   John Chest singing Pelléas and Christina Gansch singing Mélisande are good enough though not on the level of some of the greats who do these roles for houses with bigger budgets.  Chloé Briot as Yniold was a tad too womanly to sound like a terrified boy, though Herheim's staging develops the part quite well in relation to Mélisande and to the male/female aspects of the opera, which are often missed.  Good, reliable singing in the other parts and chorus.   Brindley Sherratt was also very strong, full of character. Arkel isn't so old that he's decrepit : steel still resides within. 

Vindicated ! Herheim Glyndebourne Pelléas et Mélisande - screw the Golauds!

Christina Gansch, Christopher Purves, John Chest : Photo Richard Hubert Smith

At Glyndebourne for Debussy Pelléas et Mélisande, an opera that operates on many levels at once.  Symbolism, for goodness sake, not literalism !  Towers, tunnels, pools, movements upwards and downwards. Sex, obviously, but also violence and disorder rumbling not far below the surface.  Blinding heat and impenetrable darkness,  extremes that mirror and contrast.  In a dense forest (itself a symbol) Golaud is out hunting (killing animals).  Why is a man of his position alone in the middle of nowhere ? And who is Mélisande, and what's she doing?  Debussy's music is ambiguous yet beguiling, tonally elusive, leading us ever deeper, til we're almost as hypnotised as the characters acting out the mystery.  Nothing in this opera is straightforward, so it's ideally suited to a director like Stefan Herheim, whose forte is multi-levelled  detail.  This Pelléas et Mélisande  deserves careful attention, since it's psychologically perceptive and, like so much of Herheim's work, explores concepts of art, repression and creativity.  It's as good as anything that might be seen in a bigger house  and ought to be on DVD for repeat listening.

Usually all we see of the Organ Room at Glyndebourne is the window, which appears right stage. Now we see it from a different perspective,  modelling the logic of the narrative.  But it's a mistake to assume that this production is "about" Glyndebourne and the Christie family. Like so much in the opera, appearances are deceptive,  designed to divert the unwary. So, for starters, get past the obvious symbolism.  The family business is theatre: they know that art is not reality TV.  Getting too caught up in the Glyndebourne allusion is a mistake. Herheim likes the 19th century from whence came Romanticism. Remember his Parsifal for Bayreuth ? Just as Pelléas et Mélisande is not a shallow opera,  Herheim's production is anything but superficial.  In the first scene, deep chords emerge from the orchestra, as resonant as an organ.  The huge upright pipes dominate the stage, but are they a symbol for Golaud (Christopher Purves), the big man in Allemonde, who thinks mainly in terms of his own organ and needs. Again and again, Mélisande (Christina Gansch) says "Ne me touchez pas!" but he's not a guy who connects to anyone but himself, like so many one-dimensional bullies.  From purely practical considerations, the organ serves a structural foundation, as did Hans Sachs’s desk in Herheim's Der Meistersinger von Nürnberg.  (Please read what I wrote about that HERE) 

Assume that Mélisande is meek and mild, and you're on the wrong track.  She's the supposedly passive vector whose presence unleashes havoc all around her.  Like a Lorelei, she's an elemental spirit, perhaps as old as Time. Herheim combines beginning and end : Mélisande's "body" is seen on her deathbed, while she sings. Past, present and future converge. The baby is cradled by others, implying that the cycle will be reborn. "C'est au tour de la pauvre petite.", as wise old Arkel (Brindley Sherratt)  will sing at the end.  So it's no problem seeing the dead Pelléas moving or the dying Mélisande singing as she once was, in the forest.  That "is" the story.  

It's also a mistake to assume that  Pelléas et Mélisande means just Pelléas and Mélisande.  Golaud and Pelléas (John Chest) are brothers with the same roots, but are mirror opposites, interacting with Mélisande in their different ways : not inseparable. Herheim's focus on Golaud is important because it connects to the deeper psychological levels in the opera.  Though warned, Golaud brings Mélisande to Allemonde where she awakens in Pelléas feelings that are at once child-like and dangerous.  It's no accident that Pelléas and Mélisande see three blind men by the grotto.  His first comment is telling. "Oh! voici la clarté! ".  Then "ce sont trois vieux pauvres qui se sont endormis... .. Pourquoi sont-ils venus dormir ici?"   There has been a famine in the countrysiude, but perhaps there's been an emotional famine in the palace, from which Pelléas might now be waking.  The images of drought and clear water, oppressive sunshine and darkness, noon, and damp, underground caves in the libretto and in the music are there for a reason.  Herheim suggests this by showing the blind men as empty easels, on which Pelléas seems to be painting invisble pictures, mirroring the portraits of the past on the castle walls.  Is Pelléas a prototype artist, who can see what philistines like Golaud cannot see ?

Golaud puts Pelléas's eyes out so he "becomes" a blind man.  Destruction is Golaud's way of expressingn what he cannot articulate.  Listen to the brutal menace in the music. We see Golaud sodomise Yniold. That's what bullies do. They think in power, humiliation and self-gratification. The organ, again.... Herheim uses a soprano (Chloé Briot) in the role, partly because sopranos are easier to cast than trebles, but also because this connects to violence against women in macho society. This is also in the score. In this production the women who come to Mélisande on her death bed look like Victorian maids, but they may well represent ancient female rituals attending birth and death.  When Yniold's hat falls off, revealing her long hair (like Mélisande's), we recognise her as part of that alternative culture.  That's why Golaud cries out on the appearance of the women "Qu'y-a-t'il? Qu'est-ce que toutes ces femmes viennent faire ici!".  He ought to be able to recognize regular castle staff, but these he cannot comprehend.  Casting an adult women also moderates the horror an audience might feel imagining a real child getting raped.  But it isn't just women who are Golaud's targets.  Significantly, he leads Pelléas into the caves beneath the castle, damp and dark, like vaginas. When Yniold goes looking for his ball he spots Pélléas lying blind - silenced - on stage, his bottom raised upwards, facing the audience and lit by a spotlight.  "Oh! cette pierre est lourde..." sings Yniold.  Yniold can't find his ball, and even the sheep are still. "Berger!" he cries "Pourquoi ne parlent-ils plus:?"

And who is Arkel? Is he a benign figure of authority, or is he implicit in the slow devitalization of Allemonde and its ruling house ?The desiccation   didn't happen overnight. The ancestor portraits on the castle walls look down, impassively, a bit like Arkel himself.  After all, Arkel is quick to comfort Golaud. Mélisande doesn't judge him either, but she may well know that she's the Lorelei he tried to possess.  And Geneviève (Karen Cargill), the Doctor (Michael Mofidian), Shepherd (Michael Wallace), and the factotums in the castle ? Extremely good ensemble work, the groups of actors operating in unison, not as individuals. Bullies win when in systems where no-one stands up to them. Christopher Purves and Brindley Sherratt provided the ballast in this cast, two very strong personalities, mirroring and contrasting with each other.  Glyndebourne singers and choruses are much better than most country house and seasonal productions  but the economics doesn't run to some of the international megastars who often sing Pelléas and Mélisande.  Robin Ticciati conducted the London Philharmonic Orchestra and Nichilas Jenkins directed the Glyndebourne chorus.  If the orchestral playing was more raucuous than refined (apart from the key flute, harp and woodwind parts which symbolize Mélisande) that didn't detract too much.  Herheim and his dramaturge Alexander Meier-Dörzenbach created an unusually perceptive Pelléas et Mélisande which really needs to be seen again so its insights and details might better be appreciated. 

And as for the ending ?  Actors dressed  as a Glyndebourne audience wander into the room, like tourists gaping, oblivious of the psychic drama that has taken place, Utterly obtuse, like critics who can't see beyond their own egos.  The whole point of this opera is the questions it raises.  Symbols exist as clues to meaning, but meaning will always elude those who don't think.  In general Glyndebourne audiences are sharp - I overheard a group baying blood against Brexit - but the London media are a pack of Golauds.

Pelléas et Mélisande deals with uncanny events and layers of reality and non-reality. Srrangely enough, that's exactly what happened to me and my partner when we attended.  We arrived early and could hear Brindley Sherratt practising his scales from somewhere high above. Wow, did his voice carry ! He's been unwell, but being a pro, he soldiers on.  Basses who can act with their voices go on til they reach old age. Sherratt certainly has character, and Arkel benefits from  Sherratt's personality.  Each year, I count the sheep on the hills above  Glyndebourne. This year's heatwave has turned the fields white, revealing the chalk beneath the surface.  No grass, no sheep grazing. Just like the heat which paralyzes Allemonde. "Where are the sheep?" my partner said.  Quick as a shot "Maintenant ils se taisent tous..."  Driving back after the show on the B2192 to Lewes, our car was hit by a deer who jumped suddenly into the road. We had no time to brake or react, and couldn't stop because there was so much traffic, going too fast on the bends.  The deer might have ben hurt but it darted off. Our car had a bump : not a minor impact. But why did the deer jump, heading towards the wall on the other side of the road with a  steep cliff below ?  Who knows why, anymore than Mélisande materializing suddenly in the forest.  Perhaps Golaud is right  "Ce n'est pas ma faute". What is "la verité, la verité" ?

Opera Rara Les Martyrs Donizetti Elder OAE

Eagerly anticipated, Opera Rara's Donizetti Les Martyrs delivered magnificently, confirming yet again Opera Rara's reputation for pioneering lesser known treasures in the repertoire. Although Les Martyrs is not unknown (there are several recordings), Opera Rara presented a new critical edition by Dr Flora Willson of King’s College, Cambridge, which restores the opera’s original French text (Eugène Scribe)  and reinstates numerous musical passages that have not been heard since its premiere in 1840.  Les Martyrs, revealed in all its glory, is a brilliantly dramatic work, combining the delights of Italian bel canto with the exhilarating audacity of French grand style. This performance, conducted by Opera Rara's music director, Sir Mark Elder, was  so good that it whetted the appetite for a fully staged production, ideally in a house large enough to give the  spectacular treatment it merits.

In 2015, Glyndebourne Festival's gala opening night present Donizetti's Poliuto, written for the Teatro San Carlo in Naples in 1838 but which was promptly banned by the King of Sicily, who objected to the depiction in popular theatres of a subject from Christian history. French audiences could cope with religious subjects being treated as opera. The libretto in both operas was based on a play by Corneille, written two hundred years previously. Donizetti, aware that Paris was the sophisticated centre of the opera world in his time, promptly revised Poliuto and created Les Martyrs. incorporating most of the original but adding elaborate divertissements for ballet, extending the overture, and creating grand choruses and  flamboyant new solos for the tenor and soprano. 

Even by their usual very high standards, The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment were in wonderful form. In the Overture, Donizetti defines the main themes which run through the opera, martial "Roman" motifs contrasting with gentler passages which later connect to love and Christianity.The Romans, like the Devil, get the most striking tunes.  Elder and the OAE magnified the dramatic impact of the score by placing horns in a box, and trumpeters arrayed above the rest of the orchestra, which played with ferocious dynamism. Period performance isn't meek.

In Act One, the Christians are cowed, operating in secret, dissidents against an overwhelming regime. When the Governor Félix announces an all-out purge, Brindley Sherratt sang with such profound authority that his voice echoed throughout the Royal Festival Hall. It was as though the might of the whole Roman Empire was behind him. A terrifying star turn, guaranteed to stun listeners into submission. Later, Sherratt showed Félix's gentler, more human side, but the impact of this first passage lingered on. Towatrds the end of the opera, the Romans mass in all their pomp and glory. "Dieu de tonnere.......Maître du monde". sang the choruses, with forcefulness that belied the small number of singers. Thirty years before Verdi, Donnizetti is writing choruses that wouldn't be out of place in Aida.

But as we know, the Christians win. Michael Spyres sang Polyeucte,  the leader who becomes an outcast, choosing faith over the material values of society. Utterly relevant, nearly two millennia later. Spyres was a hero himself. Quite possibly, he was somewhat under the weather, as his voice didn't ring with the bell-like ping the part needs ideally, but he paced himself well, and made the notes that mattered. The killer aria, "J'irai" is, thankfully, near the end, and he hit the sudden leap up the scale with such fervour that it felt he'd been injected with a burst of energy from some superhuman power. Absolutely correct in context, as Polyeucte at this point has resolved to defy the world and die for his god.  One thing that can be said in favour of concert performances is that singers can risk their voices for a single, wonderful moment without having to worry about the rest of the run. 

Joyce El-Khoury sang Pauline, Polyeucte's wife. Her part is blessed with some very beautiful moments, some decorated by superb writing for the two harps, passages which had the ethereal quality of light: divine light, perhaps, because Pauline has to choose against her father, her faith and her place in Roman society. El-Koury (who impressed in Opera Rara's Donizetti Belisaro) negotiated the elaborate trills and passagework that create Pauline's feminine sensibility. Pauline's a very strong personality, though (think about her Dad) so one might, ideally, want more characterization; bel canto is, after all, good singing.

Sévère, Pauline's former beloved, was sung by David Kempster. Sévère is a Roman hard man and hero, but his love for Pauline is so great that he wants to save her. Kempster moderated the force in his singing, creating convincing compassion. Clive Bayley sang Callisthènes and Wynne Evans Néarque, who, at the end, sang beside the chorus, as if among the angels, flanked by the OAE trumpeters.  Les Martyrs is written with elegant symmetry. The solo parts, duets and ensemble are neatly patterned, as if the singers were dancing with their voices. 

Photo : Russell Duncan
See also Robert Hugill's review in Opera Today.

Donizetti Les Martyrs - Opera Rara next week

Opera Rara presents Donizetti's Les Martyrs (READ MY REVIEW HERE)  at the Royal Festival Hall, London on 4/11. Mark Elder conducts the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. Any Opera Rara production is an occasion : serious bel canto fans would have booked for this as soon as tickets went on sale (especially since Bryan Hymel was originally scheduled to sing the the heroic Polyeucte. Michael Spyres stepped in a while ago : he's very good, too. Joyce El-Khoury sings his wife Pauline. Event of the year, for many

Opera Rara's Les Martyrs  would also be a wise choice for anyone planning to go to Glyndebourne's 2015 Donizetti Poliuto. Poliuto was written for the Teatro San Carlo in Naples in 1838 but promptly banned by the King of Sicily, who objected to the depiction in popular theatres of a subject from Christian history.  Poliuto (aka Polyeucte, or Polyeuctus) was a third century Roman who converted to Christianity and was beheaded as a martyr in Armenia. Relatively little is known about the saint, so the opera treats the story as drama. The libretto in both operas was based on a play by Corneille, written two hundred years previously. French audiences could cope with religious subjects being treated as drama

The part of Poliuto was written for Adolphe Nourrit, Rossini's favourite, but his voice had deteroirated.  In despair, he jumped out of a hotel window and died, aged only 37. Donizetti, however, decided to rewrite the opera for Paris, the then pinnacle of operatic sophistication.  Poliuto then became Les Martyrs, incorporating most of the original with an elaborate new ballet score, extending the overture and choruses, and adding flamboyant new solos for the lead tenor.  A neat way to learn the difference between Italian and French grand opera.  Although Les Martyrs is not unknown (there are several recordings), Opera Rara will be using a new critical edition by Dr. Flora Willson of King’s College, Cambridge, which restores the opera’s original French text (Eugene Scribe)  and reinstates numerous musical passages that have not been heard since its first performance.in 1840. 

In true Opera Rara tradition, the company will record the opera in the studio in the week prior to the performance, marking its 23rd complete opera release by Donizetti to date.,Joyce El-Khoury (Pauline), who made her recording debut with Opera Rara with Donizetti’s Belisario in 2012, was recently nominated in the Young Singer category of the 2014 International Opera Awards. She is joined by Michael Spyres (Polyeucte), David Kempster (Sévère) and Wynne Evans (Néarque) who make their Opera Rara debuts with the recording and performance of Les Martyrs. Also featured in the cast are Brindley Sherratt (Félix) and Clive Bayley (Callisthènes), who have both previously worked with the company. (photo credit Russell Duncan).

The brain-child of Patric Schmid and Don White, Opera Rara has been in the business of bringing back forgotten operatic repertoire since its conception in the early 1970’s. The operas of Donizetti in particular continue to remain a core focus, with the company celebrating its 50th complete opera recording recently with the release of his opéra-comique Rita. Watch out for the forthcoming recording, but prepare by experiencing Les Martyrs live next week !

Three Choirs Festival Worcester Elgar The Apostles

Hearing Elgar at the Three Choirs Festival is an experience without parallel. The Three Choirs tradition goes back 300 years, but is so closely connected to Elgar that his spirit seems to hover. Elgar grew up here: understanding the world in which he lived enhances appreciation of his music. Three Choirs regulars (and the staff) are special, too.  They come for fraternity as much as for music, so theyre unusually kind and friendly, "The best of England" in so many ways. Elgar's  The Apostles has been heard in London several times in the last few years, but there is absolutely nothing quite like hearing it in Worcester, and at the Three Choirs Festival. 

As the introduction to the Apostles unfolded,  Adrian Partington conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra, and the Three Choirs Festival Chorus and Youth Choir created an atmosphere of reverence: those gently circulating sonorities might perhaps suggest the movement of cosmic forces. Indeed, Jesus is about to reveal the Beatitudes to his followers. Yet Elgar made great efforts to include the shofar, the valveless trumpet of Judaic tradition, thus connecting the new faith of Jesus to a much more ancient past. In the acoustic of Worcester Cathedral, the sound reverberated around the building. I've never heard it done with such overwhelming impact. Karl-Heinz Stockhausen, who used physical space as part of performance, would have been impressed. How strange and exotic the shofar must have sounded when first heard by Edwardian audiences!  At Worcester, the impact verged on the point of danger, for indeed, the disciples are setting off on a mission into the unknown.  Christians would suffer for their faith, as have the Jews.  There's no need to minimize the portent. Partington places the shofar player high above the orchestra, near the young sopranos who will later sing Alleujia llke a host of angels, distant enough from the audience but not too distant in meaning, It's theologically astute and works well as music.

Partington is an extremely sensitive choral conductor. Three Choirs Festival  Chorus members know him well. This was choral singing of exceptional clarity and character truly worthy of the occasion. Component parts were distinctly defined. One could hear how they operate together, as groups of individuals united by common purpose. Indeed, it was almost as if the score were coming alive. Three Choirs choruses never disappoint, but this was wonderful.

In comparison, the soloists were relatively uneven, but that's no demerit, given the excellence of the choirs  The  male soloists were a solid foundation, the rock on which Elgar''s music is built. How jolly the apostles sounded together when they first sang "We are the the servants of the Lord"!  The theme recurs repeatedly throughout the music, and  we can identify with them through their trials and tribulations. John Mark Ainsley, Brindley Sherratt and Neal Davies are "luxury casting", strikingly characterized. With his doubts and uncertainties, Judas is a role which modern audiences can relate to. Sherratt (fresh from singing Strauss at the Proms the previous evening - review here) is the bass of choice in this piece because he sings Judas Iscariot with such personality that he creates the part as a personality.  When he repeated the words "Darkness", he made the horror feel palpable. It's a tricky part, with a sudden leap up the scale on "vanish".,plunging to the depths again on the final "darkness".

Marcus Farnsworth sang a steady, youthful Jesus, radiating sincerity. Sarah Fox and Claudia Huckle sang the soprano and mezzo parts.

The Philharmonia Orchestra is one of the best in this country, and their presence has been a great advantage. If the storm sequence seemed somewhat underpowered, they made up for things later: bright, vivid brass, quirkily agile high clarinets, striking horns, lustrous strings and the rolling thunder of the timpani.. But we go to the Three Choirs Festival for more than performance. We go for the astonishing beautiful choirs, for the atmosphere, for the camaraderie, all of which add up to value-added music. "We are the servants of the Lord ! We go forth to the ends of the Earth!" Next year in Hereford!

The photo above, by Mattana, 2008, reveals Jesus and his Apostles in Worcester Cathedral. During the Three Choirs Festival, they're hidden behind the performance space, but we know they're there in spirit. Please read my other posts on Elgar The Apostles, on Elgar, and on Three Choirs  by clicking in the labels below.

Elgar The Apostles Barbican Davis BBCSO Imbrailo Sherratt

Hearing Elgar'sThe Apostles (op 49, 1902-3) at the Barbican Hall, was a superb experience. The piece was conceived on a grand scale with over a hundred choristers, a huge orchestra and  team of soloists (who can be augmented if needed). Any live performance is a major event to be cherished. The BBC has the forces to pull it off  on a grand scale, as with this performance conducted by Andrew Davis with the BBC SO, the BBC Singers Symphony Chorus and a star list of soloists.

But perhaps the key to The Apostles (and to The Kingdom) lies in its connection to The Dream of Gerontius (op 38, 1900), performed by the same forces at the Barbican last week. Although Elgar never completed the ambitious trilogy he dreamed of, The Apostles and The Dream of the Gerontius  benefit from being heard together. The Dream of Gerontius tells of one man's journey from physical life to the life everlasting. (read more here). The Apostles deals with the very nature of that faith..  Hence the inherent contradiction that sometimes confuses The Apostles with overblown Edwardian public declarations of Christianity.

The Apostles unfolds in a series of seven tableaux, held together by male and female narrators. This structure allows a surprising degree of intimacy, concentrating on the interaction between  Jesus and the people around him. Judas, Peter and John are gearing up for their mission to spread the gospels to the world. The chorus exults and the brass plays the glorious fanfare, which seems to stretch over vast distances. The huge kettledrums beat out a ceremonial march. Splendid! Yet it is the quiet voice of Jesus which rises above the tumult. "He who receiveth you, receiveth Me, and he that receiveth Me, receiveth Him who sent Me",  Jacques Imbrailo is the Jesus of choice these days. He is unique - confident in its baritonal quality, yet haloed by a tenor-like glow. His voice seems lit with inner light, giving an almost miraculous purity. When Jesus  reveals the Beatitudes in By the Wayside, Imbrailo makes the words ring with sincerity and conviction, not by forcing sound, but by simple, sincere conviction. "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth". Meekness isn't weakness, though, for Jesus hints at persecutions to come. Imbrailo's timbre is natural and unforced,  but its centre is very strong.

The tension between grand forces and simplicity gives The Apostles much of its  appeal. Elgar describes the storm on the Sea of Galilee, and Davis whips the orchestra into a turmoil. "It is I, Be not afraid!" sings Imbrailo, decorating the "I" with shimmering rubato so the very word seems to shine like a lighthouse.  Elgar's Jesus favours sinners, like Mary Magdalene (Sarah Connolly), Peter the Doubter, (Gerald Finley) and Judas Iscariot (Brindley Sherratt). Indeed, Elgar gives Judas more space than the others, suggesting his sympathy with those who question. Brindley Sherratt is as singularly exceptional in this part as Imbrailo is in his. Together they bring out a more unconventional element in the drama.  Sherratt's bass isn't brutal, but intelligently nuanced: he conveys genuine  concern where the other Apostles obey blindly. When Judas recognizes his mistake, Sherratt sings with anguish so intense that it takes on a strange, noble dignity. In the long passage that starts "Our life is short and tedious", Sherratt expresses such a range of emotions that he manages to make us feel compassion. This is a Judas with whom modern people can identify. We cannot judge, but remember the Beatitude "Blessed are the merciful!".  As Sherratt was singing, I remembered how he had sung Judas  on this very subject earlier in the piece.  A singer who can shed such insights deserves huge respect.

It's also interesting how Elgar goes swiftly from Golgotha to the Ascencion, as if drawn forwards by the musical vision of Angels singing "Alleluia!". The string writing is pastoral, yet luminous,  another insight, connecting Jesus's "rebirth" with his Nativity. The BBC Symphony Chorus sang The Mystic Chorus with beautiful clarity. In The Apostles, Elgar writes for voice as if he were writing for different elements in an orchestra. He weaves together lines for the orchestra, choir and soloists to form an immaculate, shining wall of sound. Imbrailo doesn't sing but the memory lingers, imprinted on the listener. ""And lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world".

Mark Elder conducted Elgar's The Apostles at the Proms in 2012, and his recording with the Hallé is so good it will stand as a benchmark, even taking into account Adrian Boult's recording from 1973. Elder gets much greater lucidity from the Hallé than Davis did with the BBCSO, though they were very good. It's just that the Hallé, one of  Elgar's favourite bands, have an unparalleled Elgar pedigree which no other orchestra can quite reach. Imbrailo, Sherratt and Paul Groves sing for Elder (with Alice Coote and Rebecca Evans). Davis has big names like Connolly and Gerald Finley, and lovely though consonant-lite Nicole Cabell. On balance, I prefer Elder, but any chance to hear The Apostles is welcome.