With Alcina playing to packed audiences at the Coliseum and Rinaldo staged twice in London during the past few weeks, Handel opera is in favour. Theodora is an oratorio rather than an opera, but the work is so theatrical that you can barely tell. Peter Sellars's production at Glyndebourne in 1996 showed it to be one of those rare concert works that have a strong enough dramatic sense to hold their own on stage, but it also works well in concert, as Paul McCreesh proved at the Barbican.
Theodora contains some of Handel's finest writing and McCreesh's conducting brings out the best in the work. The introductions to each aria, often just a simple violin tune accompanied by a melodic bass and the most translucent of harmonies, were at their most beguiling in the seemingly endless phrases that he drew from the Gabrieli Players. Tempos were pacey enough to be exciting, yet McCreesh was always aware of the needs of his soloists and made the work really seem alive.
Handel's music always contains a good deal of unison writing for the violins. These were ranged in a semicircle behind the singers, making for a thick bank of sound. Contrapuntal melodies were woven into a rich, balanced fabric to support the soloists. The choir spun their melodic lines around each other neatly and expressively, though in this acoustic some slightly clearer diction would have gone a long way.
Heading the quintet of soloists was Susan Gritton in the title role. During the past few years she has emerged as one of the country's best light sopranos, and she is well cast in this type of innocent heroine role. Though expressive, her voice has a sweetness of tone that never seems to slip. Jean Rigby returned to sing Irene, as she did in the revival of the Glyndebourne production; here she gave the role a characteristically reliable, thoughtful and smooth performance. Neal Davies graphically portrayed Valens's wrath, and the almost equally communicative Paul Agnew sang Septimius warmly, deftly negotiating the will-he-make-it-to-the-end runs in Dread the Fruits of Christian Folly, an aria taken at breakneck speed.
Only the countertenor Christopher Robson, singing Didymus, seemed not always to be completely committed. His tone at times was uneven, his dynamic control slipping. Yet he could be poised enough when he wanted, and his final duet with Gritton was sensitive and beautifully balanced. McCreesh's studio recording, due out next summer, will certainly be worth a listen.
