Seems this is a time for debunking. Couple of days ago, I pointed out that Sir Cloudesley Shovel apparently did not hang that impertinent sailor. We turn today to the question of Handel's Messiah--surely you have heard how, at the "Halleluja Chorus," King George was so enraptured that he rose to his feet, impelling the entire audience to follow his example, and inaugurating a tradition that endures to this day?
You've got it: not true. Or so say the program notes from last night's performance at the Mondavi Center in Davis CA. The king in question would be George II, and apparently there no evidence that he ever attended such a performance (he did, apparenlty, sometimes go to the theatre incognito, but that can hardly count). And if he did atttend, and if he did rise, it's anybody's guess what prompted him to rise. Maybe he was startled into wakefulness. Maybe he was just going out to pee.
Oh, last night's performance: that would be the American Bach Soloists and the American Bach Choir, famed (at least in the Bay Area) for accuracy and precision in original-instrument performance. They were indeed impressive but (and I know I am striking a discordant note here) I wouldn't say they were perfection itself. Best we could tell, they seemed to have sacrificed strucural coherence for accuracy in detail: great discipline and precision, but the entire performance was oddly lacking in form. A shout-out,however for Jeremy Galyon, the young bass who seemed to handle anything that Handel could throw at him without seeming to break a sweat. We must have heard him before (though I admit I didn't notice) as an Adler Fellow in San Francisco. Suffice to say I look forward to hearing him again. A puzzled sort of "hmmm" for Jennifer Hines, the mezzo; her voice is flexible and nuanced and shows every sign of first-rate training. But it's one of the oddest tones I ever heard. Mrs. B loved it; I'd say it needs some getting used to.
And no, it wasn't a sing-along; my mistake.
And yes, we did stand up.
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