Reviews from L’enfance du Christ

The Independent, Edward Seckerson
Queen Elizabeth Hall

The onstage mingling of orchestra, soloists, and conductor prior to this seasonal performance of Berlioz’ L’enfance du Christ was presumably designed to lend a more intimate, informal tone to the start of the evening so that the music could “emerge”, as it were, without the usual formalities of bows and applause.

And it might not have looked so puzzling and stage-managed had the performance not started a quarter of an hour late. Whatever the reasons for that, it was, though, well worth the wait.

You could read from the close attention and tiny gradations of colour given to the bare opening wind chords that the work’s inspired less-is-more chamber quality was something that Mark Elder found both challenging and inspiring. Berlioz, master of the big effect, dazzles us again and again here with his subtlety and refinement: the colouristic effects are still audacious but they are born of masterful restraint so that a single fortissimo string chord or tremolando can achieve
disproportionate dramatic impact or conversely a sustained note in the horns so quiet that it’s like hearing (just) an overtone can lend such mystery - like gazing at a series of ancient illuminated frescoes.

That’s the impression that this quietly inspiring masterwork gives us and hearing it unfolded here with such awareness and care for detail was gripping in ways that I cannot recall having felt before. The progress of that ever changing little “Nocturnal March” near the start reflected the infinitesimal shifts in accent and dynamics that Elder asked for and got from the Britten Sinfonia - likewise from the newly formed professional chorus, Britten Sinfonia Voices, whose balance and blend and sensitivity on and off stage reflected how satisfying this music must be to sing, not least, of course, the perennially enduring “Shepherds’ Farewell” with its quirky rustic pipes.

But what finally achieved true ascendancy for the performance was the solo singing. Throughout the evening Sarah Connolly and Roderick Williams as the holy couple radiated the sheer pleasure of singing such grateful music, their voices tracing its contours as one. Neal Davies plumbed the darkest recesses of his bottom register as the tormented Herod only to find a powerful benevolence in the Ishmaelite’s music (what a telling “double” that is). As for Allan Clayton - what a special singer he is evolving into. The narrator’s final number with chorus brought from him an inspirational fervour, head-voice opening gloriously to the final message of redemption through love.

Evening Standard, Barry Millington
Queen Elizabeth Hall.

Last night’s performance of Berlioz’s L’Enfance du Christ was a first in more ways than one. The Britten Sinfonia had not previously been conducted by Mark Elder, who was also making his début in the oratorio. It additionally featured the inaugural appearance of the high-calibre ensemble Britten Sinfonia Voices (director Eamonn Dougan).

Another novel idea was the milling around the stage, before the start, of conductor, soloists and orchestral members, intended to suggest a village-hall community experience - not perhaps obvious to all. It’s curious to invoke am dram when the trouble has been taken to assemble a stellar cast as well as crack instrumental and vocal ensembles but it gave something to chew on in the work’s longueurs, of which there are one or two. 

Sarah Connolly and Roderick Williams sang Mary and Joseph: their pleas for B & B may have fallen on deaf Roman ears (“vagabonds and lepers”) but melted all other hearts. Neal Davies took the dual roles of the tormented, ruthless King Herod and the kindly Ishmaelite who gives the holy vagabonds floor space - a schizophrenic part he handled with aplomb. Allan Clayton as the Narrator began with urgency, transmuted finally into mystical fervour.
Berlioz regarded his oratorio as an analogue to the illuminations in medieval missals. But they are also a sequence of tableaux vivants of almost cinematic immediacy, an aspect superbly captured by Elder.

Brighton Argus, Richard Wilby
Brighton Dome Concert Hall

The Britten Sinfonia is now the Chamber Orchestra in residence in Brighton, giving the Dome audience the benefit of hearing its latest ambitious project, Berlioz’s L’Enfance du Christ. 

Anybody expecting an extended Gallic version of Away In A Manger would have been disappointed. It hardly touches on the Christmas story, concentrating instead on Herod’s massacre of the innocents and the flight into Egypt. 

Berlioz’s score is ascetic, spare, even minimalist. But it is also serene and, in the final epilogue, quite sublime as sung on Saturday by the Britten Sinfonia Voices and the outstanding tenor narrator, Allan Clayton, under the direction of the dedicated Sir Mark Elder. So it was most unfortunate that the spellbound audience was brought down with a bump out of paradise and back to Brighton by the crass insensitivity of an over-enthusiastic clapper.
It was (or should have been) an appropriate climax to the musical equivalent of walking round a gallery of 15th-century Florentine paintings. Other outstanding features were the charming duet for two flutes with harp accompaniment and the well-characterised and incisive singing of Neal Davies in the contrasting roles of Herod and the Ishmaelite father.

Those who attended the illuminating pre-concert talk would have been aware of Sir Mark’s love of Berlioz and his neglected masterpiece. He was rewarded by a good house. But the day has not yet arrived when audiences are able to respond appropriately to such a challenge as Berlioz and his interpreters set for them on Saturday evening.

Latest 7, Andrew Connal
Brighton Dome concert Hall

The premature and extended applause echoed that of the very first performance. I wanted encores throughout this lovely, dramatic performance by a really sensitive orchestra: natural horns, small drum, and trombones who left at the interval. Allan Clayton (tenor) drew us into Berlioz’s strange, compassionate story of the Christ-child. Sarah Connolly and Roderick Williams sang the warm-hearted parents and Neal Davies convinced as both cruel Herod and the loving man who opens his door and saves the starving family. This youthful orchestra and their newly formed chorus responded so well to the nurturing direction of Sir Mark – Thank you!

 

 

Search

Newsletter Sign up