Fabio Biondi, making his New York Philharmonic debut, led the orchestra, the Handel and Haydn Society Chorus and a quartet of soloists in a Messiah that emphasized momentum as the primary value. Brisk tempos and cuts, some judicious and some less so, kept it to a palatable length for those needing to work in the morning, well under two and a half hours for an evening that can run nearly three. While this approach minimized the saggy stretches that can sometimes leave a listener waiting listlessly for the next Allegro marking, it sometimes felt breathless and hurried. By the middle of Part 2, I was wishing Biondi had let the material breathe more.
That said, there was plenty to love about the performance. Biondi’s work with the orchestra was immaculate. Articulations were crisp, phrasing was vivid and dynamics, while occasionally suspiciously fluid for Baroque music, were well-chosen and exciting.
The Handel and Haydn Society Chorus, making a repeat appearance from last year’s Messiah performances, was the star of the show, with credit going to their resident conductor Scott Allen Jarrett. They brought a glassy transparency to the a cappella sections of “Since by man came death”, lyrical tension to “Surely, He hath borne our griefs” and exuberant yet detailed athleticism to “All we like sheep have gone astray” and the Hallelujah Chorus.
The soloists were Hera Hyesang Park, Hannah Ludwig, John Matthew Myers and Joshua Conyers, all but Park making their Philharmonic debuts. All of them are terrific singers and musicians; none are Baroque specialists. Neither are the Philharmonic, of course, and in general this was a happy marriage; but a paucity of ornamentation in the repeated sections of the da capo arias often left them feeling anticlimactic, and sometimes Biondi’s tempos meant that the men’s melismas, especially, were punishingly fast, leaving them unfocused and blurry in a way that lighter voices would have been spared.
However, each of the soloists had fine moments on their own terms. Park’s “Rejoice greatly” was sweet and nimble. Ludwig, whose alto is like tempered steel on the bottom and supple leather higher up, was electric in “But who may abide the day of his coming”. Myers’ “But Thou didst not leave His soul in hell” was communicative and affecting. The evening’s high point, however, came from Conyers. “The trumpet shall sound” was boisterous and joyful, his high notes ringing like bells. Credit for the moment must be shared with trumpeter Matthew Muckey, whose almost unbearably present sound reified the divinity everyone was singing about.
