What a wonderfully varied opera this is, and how splendidly it is enacted by the ENO forces who performed it memorably at the London Coliseum. The characters of Caesar, Cleopatra, Ptolemy, Cornelia and Sextus are all pointedy delineated in arias that show Handel at the peak of his powers as a composer of dramatic force. Asx it happens one previous set of the work, long deleted (RCA SER5561/3, 12/68) also derived from a successful stage production, at the New York City Opera in the 1960s, but that performance was so ludicrously un-Handelian in its disposition of voices to roles and in its re-ordering of the score that it couldn't be considered a worthwhile addition to the Handel discography—which, in operatic terms, is still not that generous. The Richter/DG set (recently reissued on 413 897-1GX4—to be reviewed later), textually more accurate, also lowered several roles an octave.
Mackerras, of course, commits no such solecisms, yet his edition has been criticized in that it forshortens the recitative and omits several arias (though all those performed are given complete) and because of his penchant for very florid ornamentation of da capos. This is, on occasion, disturbing, even unHandelian, particularly when the singers concerned are harder pressed than they ought to be by the added coloratura, but for me it detracts only a mite from the advantages of this version. Others may complain that Mackerras still eschews original instruments; to that I would answer that his use of modern ones is so correct in style, and the playing itself so stylish (I mean that literally, in the right Handelian style) that one does not seek for any other, possibly more authentic (though less reliable) sound.
In any case, in spite of the joys of much of the singing, Mackerras is the hero of the interpretation, every tempo so proper to the aria in hand that it seems inevitably right, each texture clearly etched, and every rhythm sprung easily and naturally. Then, in a faultless recording, the balance between the voices and an orchestra that has taken the score into its collective bones and heart is throughout finely judged. Some cognizance has been taken of the Coliseum production, and this sense of movement always heralds a change of mood or scene.
Dame Janet's Caesar remains one of her most telling assumptions. She has always been an innate Handelian, and here there is no falling off in her firm, virile tone (right for this hero) and execution of runs, except occasionally as regards those sorely taxing decorations. I particularly like the way she alters her timbre between the seductive voice she uses when addressing Cleopatra, the dark hue used before Ptolemy's machinations (especially effective in the famous 'hunting' aria with horn obbligato), and the military energy of Caesar's most determined pieces. We have hoped for a recording of this portrayal since the production was new; now it is happily accomplished, courtesy of the Peter Moores Foundation.
Equally welcome is Valerie Masterson's Cleopatra. She captures almost every facet of the lady's minxish, ambitious, sensual nature in the succession of subtly varied arias Handel has given the character, the sadness of ''Se pieta'' and ''Piangero'' nicely contrasted with the slighter Allegro pieces. Just occasionally the tone pinches at the top or could sound a little more voluptuous, but these are small flaws in a charmingly accomplished reading of a virtuoso role.
James Bowman sounds petulant and domineering enough as Ptolemy, but his alto has some bulging exaggerations that mar his line. As Pompey's put-upon widow and son, Sarah Walker and Della Jones (happily we have a mezzo not a tenor Sextus), are suitably contrasted in tone, and both sing with the commitment derived from stage portrayals that were exactly in character. Their long duet at the close of Act 1 is deeply eloquent, as it was at the Coliseum. John Tomlinson makes a properly overweening Achillas, Ptolemy's henchman, but his tone spreads uncomfortably under pressure; he is at his best in his repenting recitative, as he dies.
Those who have seen the stage performance will need no encouragement from me to obtain this set. Those Handelians, or indeed non-Handelians, who need convincing of his merits as an opera composer, should not hesitate to acquire such a vigorous demonstration of Handel's skills, the most welcome tercentenary offering I have heard. Brian Trowell's well-tailored translation is used. I have not yet seen the booklet.'