Auckland Choral performing The Messiah at the Auckland Town Hall. Photo / Supplied
Auckland Choral’s annual performance of Handel’s Messiah is always launched with a warm introduction from Uwe Grodd.
On Monday night, along with high-flown words on how Handel’s oratorio speaks for us all, as only great art can, Grodd also reflected on the many displaced people in our world and howthis music is a reminder of the humanity that binds us together.
Yet the genial conductor was disarmingly frank about Handel’s very practical inspiration — it had to be a winner, as he was poor and alone, so he threw his best ideas into it.
From the overture’s subtle nuance, sprucely delivered by Pipers Sinfonia, Grodd proved himself an old hand at keeping the familiar fresh.
We had been warned of cuts, and Simon O’Neill’s shapely lyricism in Behold, and See did not extend for another two numbers as Handel had intended. Similarly, the choristers forfeited their spectacular Lift Up Your Heads.
The pleasure experienced by this full-voiced choir in propelling the work’s narrative was palpable, from the buoyant confidence of And the Glory to Handel’s final jubilant Worthy is the Lamb.
Once again, invited to film and stream the lustily delivered Hallelujah Chorus, many in the audience responded enthusiastically, smartphones in steady hands.
Simon O’Neill was inevitably a star presence, a commanding flourish in his first recitative giving a taste of the thrills awaiting Los Angeles next month, when the tenor is in the cast of Das Rheingold.
Anna Leese, with a commanding presence, effortless projection and impeccable musicianship, offered a glorious succession of arias. As in 2020, Kristin Darragh’s rich contralto transformed He Was Despised into an intensely emotional experience. This time, however, the da capo repeat of her opening section was fully restored.
Wade Kernot’s The Trumpet Shall Sound was an inevitable crowd-pleaser, in tandem with Josh Rogan’s clarion trumpet. However, again, as in 2020, lower notes were often problematic and Kernot seemed apprehensive in Why Do the Nations Rage — a pity in an aria that is shiveringly relevant in our war-torn times.