Here are two versions of Handel's Messiah far removed from one another in concept and performance style—Nicholas McGegan's account we might almost say out-authenticizing the authenticists and Claudio Scimone's more traditional and less questioning approach using modern instruments. Neither has realized my hopes or indeed my expectations though I have found details in each which are effective and illuminating.
McGegan first. His recording is of considerable documentary interest in that a separate section at the conclusion of each of the three parts of Messiah—there are three discs accordingly—is reserved for the many alternative versions of arias, accompanied recitatives and choruses which Handel himself used or at least approved in performances during the 1740s and 1750s. In this way, the booklet explains, the listener can select which version of the work he/she wants to listen to at any given time. About six versions are possible from the 18 alternative tracks provided on the three CDs. By following a table printed in the back of the booklet (a few minutes' mental gymnastics are initially required) you can programme your CD player to replace particular arias with others. So, for Dublin 1742 you replace track 2 with 14, 3 with 17, retain 4-9, replace 10 with 19 and so on. Once mastered this seems an eminently sensible use of the facilities available with CD. (Cassette users have my sympathy here since they have to find the alternatives by trial and error.)
As I say, I found all this extra material fascinating while practically speaking remaining more than happy to afford it footnote status. The performance itself is stylish with plenty of appropriate attention to details of phrasing, articulation and declamation. But there are features which do not square with the close attention paid elsewhere to 'authenticity'. Handel, as far as I know, always had a choir of male voices—boys and men whereas here the choruses are sung by a mixed ensemble of women's voices (soprano and alto) and men's. McGegan's orchestra, too, is smaller than that which Handel is known to have used on occasion for Messiah and I felt this lack of body particularly in the woodwind section. On the other hand the autograph contains no woodwind at all so I suppose a director may judge what he thinks best.
My greatest disappointment on listening to this carefully considered version arises from the undercharacterization of Handel's music. Many of the orchestral entries are limp and lacking in assurance and the string sound is too often scrawny. Tempos on the other hand, are well-judged and ornamentation by and large tasteful and purposeful. The soloists comprise a strong team and I particularly enjoyed the singing of the two sopranos, Lorraine Hunt—her 'alternative' version of ''He was despised'' (Handel's conducting score) is beautifully done—and Janet Williams, and the mezzo-soprano Patricia Spence. The choir can sound fresh and light of tread yet it does not always achieve its aim and I often felt that the upper voices needed to shine out more. The chorus ''And He shall purify the sons of Levi'' (Part 1) is an example of what I mean.
Perhaps the least attractive aspect of the release, however, concerns the recording itself which is dry, lustreless and almost entirely lacking in resonance. Neither instruments nor voices thrive in an acoustic such as this and, furthermore, the recording has been made at a level which requires the listener to adjust the volume control upwards considerably beyond the norm. In short, a mixed success. There are plenty of good ideas here and some of them are realized very well; but I miss the Handelian grandeur and nobility, finding the musical gestures too often understated.
Claudio Scimone offers what I suppose may be regarded as a 'middle-of-the-road' performance of Messiah but it is none the less effective for being that. Tempos are well chosen for the most part and I Solisti Veneti are on characteristically mellifluous form. I do not subscribe to Scimone's extended legato, at times almost casual-sounding phrase lengths but he does bring the oratorio to life in a manner which the other fails to do. The solo group is altogether more dramatic than that fielded by McGegan, though this has its failings as well as its virtues, and the Ambrosian Singers (size undisclosed but perhaps marginally larger than McGegan's choir) give a far more vivid account of the choruses, making us feel that the subject of Jennens's effective libretto is of some moment and consequence.
Scimone, too is more fortunate than McGegan in his recording balance which affords space to the voices and instruments and achieves an admirable clarity of texture. I know of no precedent for introducing a theorbo to the continuo group in this work but Scimone does so and makes it effective, too, as you may find in the alto recitative ''Behold, a virgin shall conceive'' (Part 1). The soloist here is the contralto, Lucia Valentini Terrani. She has a striking voice, a fine technique and a good ear but her vibrato is too wide for my taste. Of the remaining soloists the bass, Gwynne Howell, impressed me with his strength of characterization and his fine projection.
A joint summary of two such disparate performances is well nigh impossible and, in fact, pointless. These are the offspring of two distantly placed schools of thought each with its own adherents. McGegan is the more stylistically aware of the two directors but it is undoubtedly Scimone who comes closer to conveying the immense stature of this work, its contrasts, its gestures and its humanity. There are curiosities, certainly, but the performance has a radiance and a liveliness all too lacking in the Harmonia Mundi set. If you want an authentically based Messiah then Christopher Hogwood's version on L'Oiseau-Lyre (and now reissued on two discs) would be my first choice, followed by Trevor Pinnock on Archiv Produktion. But if you quite simply want to enjoy a sympathetic performance which does some justice to Handel's timeless masterpiece then Scimone should afford you pleasure.'