BACH
ST JOHN PASSION
Ex
Cathedra at Symphony Hall ****
Ex Cathedra’s Good Friday presentations of the Bach
Passions, whether at Symphony Hall or Birmingham Town Hall, have become the
stuff of legend, but I fear, as Jeffrey Skidmore prepares to step down after
over half a century on the podium of the chamber choir he founded, this
performance of the St John Passion proved more of an irritation than an
uplifting spiritual experience.
Where Bach’s St Matthew Passion is discursive, contemplative,
framed by two huge, immersive choruses, the St John is taut, dramatically
unfolding, and taking no prisoners in its graphic account of the Crucifixion
narrative. Here, though, in a misguided attempt at an authentic reproduction of
its original performance on Good Friday 1724 (there will never be true
authenticity without the unforgivingly hard pews of Leipzig’s St Nicholas Church),
the actual music was subsumed in a wrapping of organ improvisations (the
excellent Rupert Jeffcoat), what would have been a fascinating sermon from the
writings of Frank Skinner had the sound been tweaked up a tad, and congregational
hymns, in which at least one attendee had not signed up to participate.
Amongst all this Skidmore’s excellent choristers and adept
instrumentalists delivered their customary fluent, airy, well-delineated
account of whatever music they are tackling, and here, shorn of all the
trappings, this gripping score would have carried us along in the inexorable
journey which begins with the shadowy, restless throngs gathering in the Garden
of Gethsemane, and ends with the apparent finality of entombment. But Bach’s
message was lost, the muscularity of his writing drowning in the soft-centred bathos
of “God so loved the world” from Stainer’s Crucifixion which followed the
simple, sealing chorale.
All this aside, we could celebrate one huge triumph emerging
from this afternoon. The announced Evangelist was indisposed, so Daniel Marles
stepped into the breach, taking over this vital role with engagement,
conviction, and indeed a throat-grabbing sense of outrage at the unfolding of
these monstrous events before the final, exhausted laying to rest.
Christopher Morley