Israel in Egypt was never very popular in Handel's own day, mainly because its music is predominantly choral; but during the nineteenth century and for much of the twentieth, it has stood a firm second in public affection only to Messiah, for precisely the same reason. And that feature makes it a natural choice for Harry Christophers and The Sixteen to record since they excel in choral music.
This recording, in fact, offers the original work in toto, as does the Parrott version listed above. Handel set Israel in Egypt as an oratorio in two acts only, and to fill out the evening to the usual three-act length he prefaced it with the Funeral Anthem that he had lately written for Queen Caroline, the words modified so that it could serve as a mourning ode for the Israelites on the death of Joseph; it had, after all, been heard just the once, probably by only a modest proportion of those who would attend the theatre oratorio performances, and its noble music could well stand re-cycling. But its suitability as an opening act is not beyond question. Marvellous music it is indeed, a wonderful piece of sustained and deeply felt dolorous writing; but it is of course almost entirely slow and elegiac in tone. I was particularly aware of that in the present performance, because the rhythms in the slower music do really tend to be rather sluggish and static. The Sixteen, except in their use of women for the upper voices, sit firmly, stylistically speaking, in the Oxbridge college chapel and English cathedral traditions, with smooth and polished singing, careful articulation, and quite sophisticated shaping of the music. But they do not manage to bring the Funeral Anthem, or Act 1 as it is in this context, to life.
Handel probably played the organ concerto known as The Cuckoo and the Nightingale between the anthem and Israel proper at the early performances. That procedure is adopted here, though not very successfully; the orchestral playing in the slower music is oddly static and lifeless, as too is much of the solo playing, and although Paul Nicholson is amply spirited in the quick movements, with some attractively light registration, the performance as a whole has not much to offer. The strength, of course, lies in the superb array of choruses that follow, both the Plague choruses and the jubilant ones of the Song of Moses, in which the saved Israelites give thanks (in a very worldly Anglican manner). ''They loathed to drink'' is powerfully done, the 'flies' chorus is very brilliant, the 'darkness' one exceedingly slow and sombre, and ''He smote all the first-born'' duly brutal. I found ''Egypt was glad'' decidedly ponderous, but ''He led them through the deep'' is full of well-placed detail and the big jubilant choruses are, predictably, all winners, with a rousing account of the fugal ''I will sing unto the Lord'' and ''Thy right hand'' splendidly rhythmic and vocally athletic. The Sixteen give the impression of having multiplied somewhat, at least in the antiphonal eight-part choruses.
Less happy, however, is some of the solo singing. The Sixteen seem to have attempted to avoid calling on well-known soloists, and I fear it just hasn't worked. The quantity of solo music is limited here in comparison with other Handel oratorios, but you do need singers who can stay dependably in tune, for a start. In the most famous item, ''The Lord is a man of war'', the two basses are indifferently matched and the singing conspicuously lacks the sheer confidence that is needed. Many of the other solo items are similarly marred. The orchestral playing is perfectly competent though often, despite the use of period instruments, the actual style is quite traditional.
In short, then, in spite of the fine choral singing, this is not a set I can recommend. The recording sounds well, in quite a resonant church acoustic; the division of tracks on the test pressings I have been using is insufficient but I presume the finished set will conform to usual practices. The fine version under Andrew Parrott remains the clear choice.'