New York Classical Review

It’s easy to get spoiled by the English Concert and their annual visits to Carnegie Hall. With conductor Harry Bicket and an invariably deep and talented cast of singers, their concerts are the chance in New York City to hear the wonders of Handel’s operas and oratorios played at a very high level.

But the ensemble can’t always be at its best, and the concerts can’t always be at the same level. And to be fair Handel himself wasn’t always at the same level. He wrote over fifty operas and oratorios, many fantastic works like Theodora, Alcina, Giulio Cesare, and Messiah. Then there are lesser works, like the oratorio Hercules, which the Concert brought to Carnegie Hall Sunday afternoon.

Hercules isn’t about the title character’s exploits but primarily a narrative of his wife Dejanira (mezzo-soprano Ann Hallenberg). She convinces herself that Hercules (bass-baritone William Guanbo Su) is having an affair with Iole (soprano Hilary Cronin), a captive from his defeat of the city Oechalia—there is no affair and Hercules’ son Hyllus (tenor David Portillo) is in love with Iole—and murders him with some mythical magic (as an oratorio, the Clarion Choir is an important part of the ensemble).

Some prominent musicologists from a century ago, like Paul Henry Lang, proclaimed this a masterpiece, and so that received wisdom has stuck. Our larger contemporary knowledge of Handel’s work reveals how much of the music feels rushed and ordinary, without much invention or style, (unaided by the misshapen clumsiness of Thomas Broughton’s libretto, adapted from Ovid and Sophocles). Handel does overcome some of this, and there are stretches of marvelous music, including Dejanira’s famous mad scene “Where shall I fly?”. The singers and orchestra also overcame some of this, but not nearly enough to make this a satisfying afternoon.

Hercules takes quite some time to start going anywhere, both story-wise and musically. As an oratorio, it trades a lot of personal interaction for narration. After the Overture, the fanfare-announcement “No longer, Fate …” from the herald Lichas (countertenor Alexander Chance) is slow and subdued. The rich beauty of his voice could not goose along the opening sequence that introduce Hyllus with “I feel, I feel the god” and Dejanira and her aria “There in myrtle …” Portillo had a fine, keen sound, and Hallenberg and touch of both shade and floweriness, and they stayed within the stately, measured pace, though there is not substantial character in their music.

This all collided with, or perhaps was the cause of, a sluggish start from Bicket and the musicians, and Hallenberg. Coming at the end of a North American tour, everyone might have been, expectedly, a little worn down. The playing and singing were precise, everyone in sync, but it was a touch languid and there was little expressive energy underneath. Hallenberg in particular seemed to be turning her voice back inside herself, swallowing a lot of articulation and diction, without the verve to project much characterization.

The one source of consistent energy was the choir, which sang with vigor no matter the pace from their opening “O filial piety!” on. Handel gives them some fugues, a musical structure that is a great way to generate energy, and the combination gradually revved up the performance. As did Su—Hercules has by far the least amount of music of any of the characters and Su made the most of it with his robust voice and determined articulation.

This performance had one intermission, and with three acts that meant splitting the middle one. The point Bicket chose was a wise one, because the music improves dramatically around the middle of Act II and then into Act III. Here Hercules becomes a more accomplished, stylish composition, with well-made arias that start to differentiate the characters musically and give them depths and dimensions.

Iole, who had been a demure cypher, comes into shape, and Cronin was excellent. She showed in her aria about jealousy and the marvelous “My breast with tender pity swells” why she is a leading Handel singer, with a bright, gentle tone, scintillating agility, and musical phrasing that is a natural fit for Handel. This, and the opposing arias of “Banish love from thy breast” and Hyllus’ “From celestial seats descending,” where she rejects his love, were musical high points.

As was Hallenberg’s gradual, vehement descent from enmity to madness. As with the others, her performance opened up. Her singing grew in power and her mere presence on stage went from subdued to riveting. The manic juxtapositions of phrase and mood in the mad scene were unified through her musicality and emotional logic. In the end the good half of Handel was very good indeed.

Concerto Köln plays Telemann, Bach, Handel, Vivaldi, and more, 7:30 p.m., Wednesday, March 18. carnegiehall.org