Although I was initially nonplussed by various aspects of this new recording of Handel's Messiah, further investigation and an open mind have significantly increased its appeal. In particular, the interview on the bonus DVD accompanying some copies of the recording (which also contains forty minutes of video extracts from one of the live performances) was a help in understanding the conductor's approach to certain numbers. It's especially important that the recording be judged in terms of its success in carrying out its particular aims, rather than on how well it lives up to the tenuous idea of what the work 'means' or should sound like.
For years, Colin Davis' 1966 account of Messiah on Philips was considered the benchmark recording of the work. The performances of the soloists, particularly Heather Harper, were highly commended, and Davis' empathy with the piece was thought to be deep. However, the advent of the so-called 'Early Music movement' at around the same time threatened this old-style approach to baroque music. It grew in strength and eclipsed big-band Handel, and in consequence Davis' recording has long been out of fashion compared to Trevor Pinnock's period instrument recording on Archiv, to take one example of many.
There can be little doubt, then, that Sir Colin's new recording is an attempt, forty years on, to re-appropriate the work from the early music specialists. In the fore-mentioned interview, Davis states openly that while 'it's not considered acceptable to perform the piece with a symphony orchestra nowadays.some of us prefer different sounds'. He explains that the new recording is based on his own specially-prepared edition, with different ornamentation and some controversial changes to the accompaniment; that he sees Messiah as an 'Italian opera', not a 'pious' work; that he was introduced to and fell in love with the piece at school, suggesting a connection with the 'English Choral Tradition'; and that he sees entertainment, not worship, as the oratorio's purpose, specifically citing it as the binary opposite to Bach's 'serious' Mass in B Minor.
In other words, Davis is hinting at the subjectivity of the work's message - itself thought by some scholars nowadays as intending to highlight religious subjectivity. According to this (highly debatable) line of reasoning, Handel emphasises the aspects of Christianity which are scientifically impossible, such as the Virgin birth. In favour of this argument, Messiah is Handel's only oratorio based on a New Testament text, and it's interesting to note that he often employs Old Testament verses alongside the New Testament verses in ways that are considered subversive in some quarters. And as Sir Colin himself says, the jauntiness and exuberance of some numbers seem to run contrary to the meaning of the text (the merry chorus 'All we like sheep have gone astray', for instance). Furthermore, arias such as 'I Know that my Redemer Liveth' might be seen as subversively sensual musical settings of pious texts. That these examples resemble the secular world of Giulio Cesare more than the heavy sacred formality of Bach's cantatas is indubitable. On the other hand, it's perhaps a mistake to read too much into the style of music used in Messiah. Might not Handel simply be employing his 'usual' style of composition in this piece, which took only twenty-four days to write? And is joy in the Lord really so subversive an idea?
Davis' is a valid interpretation, however, and the choral numbers truly are entertaining. Indeed, the choir Tenebrae seems a metaphor for the conductor's overall approach: they mix the precision of specialist ensembles such as The King's Singers (with whom Nigel Short, Tenebrae's director, initially worked) with the bigger sounds of cathedral choirs. Thus the 'Hallelujah Chorus' and 'For Unto Us a Child is Born' are much nimbler than in Sir Colin's 1966 recording (where the London Symphony Chorus is rousing but unsubtle) and contain male as well as female altos. Davis also controversially begins the final 'Amen' a cappella, highlighting the fugal exposition quite hauntingly.
Even the choice of soloists seems to have a message behind it. The tenor (Mark Padmore) and alto (Sara Mingardo) are specialists in baroque music, while the soprano (Susan Gritton) and bass (Alastair Miles) tend to sing a much greater range of music (though of course Gritton is well known for her operatic Handel performances). Miles in particular is associated with big dramatic roles, and there's even something of the basso buffo about his rendition of the accompagnato 'Thus saith the Lord'; 'The Trumpet shall Sound' is similarly jolly rather than reverent, but it works within this context. Gritton's performance is by far the most arresting - her beautiful clear tone and smooth phrasing are well suited to her arias, and 'I Know that my Redeemer Liveth' is the solo highlight of the recording. Padmore seems a little disengaged, but perhaps bland purity was actually being striven for and his performances of the arias in the second part are highly convincing. The only weak link is Mingardo, not merely because she's uncomfortable with the language but mainly because her voice is not forward enough. As was the case in the live concert performances last December, she does not make sense of the vocal line or rise above a mezzo-piano dynamic. Since she has a large proportion of the arias and duets to sing, this causes some terrible longueurs, especially in the nine-minute-long 'He was despised'.
The LSO's contributions are excellent, and some of Davis' choices are again intriguing. The Grave section of the Sinfonia is much lighter than in the 1966 recording because the strings don't hold onto the chords for nearly as long, so each chord is separate rather than smoothly connected, and vibrato is used but not excessively (this is the case through the whole recording); having much more ornamentation keeps the music ornate without sounding heavy. It's also important to note that the dotted rhythms are mostly double-dotted, so there's more rhythmic impulse than in the old recording. Then in the fugal section, Sir Colin cleverly alternates between a chamber group of string players on the front desks and the full ensemble, elucidating the improvisatory sound of the episodes. The tempo of nearly every number is marginally faster than in the 1966 recording, and 'Hallelujah', for instance, has much more bounce and levity. In all these respects, Davis seems to be nodding to the philosophy of period performance practice while maintaining the thrust and full-bodied sound of his magnificent orchestra in their large modern hall. The results are fascinating, even if one would not always want to hear the work performed this way.
Indeed this recording would be more highly recommended if it were not for the highly intrusive sound of Colin Davis singing along to most numbers and Sara Mingardo's monochrome singing of the alto arias. If you can get past these problems, there's much to learn from Davis' Messiah.
For more information on this recording, including the interview with Sir Colin Davis, or to buy it, visit http://lso.co.uk/buyrecordings/.