This marks the thirty-third year of the London Handel Festival, which opened on the twenty-third of February, Handel's birthday, with his neglected 1744 oratorio Belshazzar. Belshazzar is an unusual work, the product of a collaboration between Handel and the librettist Charles Jennens, on whom the composer had relied for the text to both Saul and the Messiah. It depicts the fall of Babylon to the Persians in 539 B.C., culminating in the defeat in battle of the tyrant king Belshazzar. He is vanquished by Cyrus, ruler of the Persians, a just sovereign who strives ultimately for peace, carrying out the will of God and freeing the Jews who are held captive as slaves in Belshazzar's court. Jennens, ever politically and religiously minded, establishes an essential dichotomy between the pagan, arrogant hedonism of the oppressor and the righteousness that stems from Christian piety and respect for God. The work ends with peace restored, the virtuous Cyrus promising freedom and safety to the Babylonian people, as well as acknowledging the God of Israel, promising the restoration of the Jewish city of Jerusalem and the return of the Jews to their homeland.

As in the Messiah, Jennens was obviously concerned with promulgating the authenticity of the Bible. In formulating his narrative of Babylon's fall, he drew not only from Biblical texts, but various sources from ancient history, including Josephus, Herodotus, Xenophon, and Polybius. Jennens sought to assert the truth of Christianity, defending the Old Testament prophecies interspersed in the work by placing them alongside the pagan accounts of classical historians. Both accounts match, thus sending the message that the Bible, verified by pagan Greek sources, is accurate and worthy of belief. Jennens's persecuted political views as a Jacobite add a further layer of complexity to the work; he was a firm supporter of the exiled Stuart royal family, and it is not unreasonable to find a double entendre in the oratorio's depiction of the overthrow of an illegitimate ruler and the final restoration of righteous exiles to their homeland.

Upon receipt of the first two acts, Handel wrote to Jennens that the writer had drafted `a Noble Piece, very grand and uncommon'; with it, the composer created one of his most nuanced works. The orchestral and vocal colouring employed is second to none, clearly delineating not only the various personae of the work—the tyrant Belshazzar, his principled mother, Nitocris, the magnanimous Cyrus, the Jewish prophet Daniel—but the three separate nations represented in Babylon, each portrayed by the chorus in its own distinctive musical idiom. Though it might strike one as unusual to fetter a work with such obvious dramatic potential in oratorio form, it is testament to Handel's genius that the music in itself lends such vivid colouring and life to the expression of the drama. Though the work can at times seem ponderous and lacks the greater panache and distinctiveness of a piece like the Messiah, it is nevertheless a prime example of why Handel is one of the great masters of tonal colouring and expression in music.

Yet one may still legitimately question the merit to contemporary audiences of such an unstaged dramatic oratorio. Belshazzar is certainly long; even after Handel's extensive excisions to Jennens's originally verbose text, most performances still last nearly three hours. Without the visual spectacle and heightened dramatic impact of the theatre or music as memorable as that in a work like the Messiah, it isn't entirely surprising that many of Handel's oratorios, Belshazzar included, are not only infrequently performed now, but met with financial disaster upon their premiere in the eighteenth century. Yet placed in the proper context, presented intelligently and under good direction, Handel's genius shines though perhaps even more fully than in his staged operas, in which spectacle can distract from the brilliant expressiveness of his music. Happily, the London Handel Festival presented a welcome opportunity to experience this facet of Handel's craft at its best.

As one would expect from The London Handel Orchestra, the performance was executed on period instruments to a level of near faultlessness. Laurence Cummings conducted with great sensitivity to the score; it was clear that both he and his orchestra knew the music intimately and were relishing the performance. Though Belshazzar can be tedious, it moved along swiftly under Cummings's direction, the overture executed with great energy and distinction. This moved immediately to the subdued, reflective accompaniment to Nitocris's contemplation of the transient state of human empire, played delicately and with elaborate attention to detail. In Act II when the hand of God appears portentously at Belshazzar's feast, the delicious twitching of the strings gave eloquent expression to its menace, drawn out so vividly by the eerie simplicity of Handel's music. Conversely, the orchestra lent overwhelming jubilance to the familiar Handelian evocations of glory such as that in the Martial Symphony in Act III, trumpets and timpani injecting the necessary power into the work. In general, it was a vivacious, thoroughly enjoyable account of the score, one that did justice to both the oratorio's more energetic tempi as well as its moments of understated piety and meditation, achieving the balance that is essential to Jennens's pious yet joyful libretto.

Happily, the orchestra and direction were not the only reasons the evening proved a success. A reasonably strong cast was assembled, opening with Lynda Lee's dignified Nitocris, the conflicted mother of Belshazzar. Nitocris is a good woman who loves her erring son despite his tremendous faults, trying in vain from the beginning to convince him to change the course of his actions before it becomes too late. It ought to be one of the more moving roles in the piece, as it was with Ms. Lee's interpretation. Her soprano voice is strong and silky, equal to both the elegiac reflection on flux that opens the work with `Vain, fluctuating state of human empire,' as well as the dancing coloratura and trills of such arias as `The leafy honours of the field.' Though faltering occasionally in the lower range, her upper register tended to be secure and resounding, and she contributed some radiant singing throughout the performance.

As the hubristic ruler of Babylon, Andrew Kennedy was superb. Kennedy was the winner of the Handel Singing Competition in 2002, and judging by this performance, it is not difficult to understand why. His tenor is immaculately suited to singing Handel, his tone rich and elegant and remarkably free of the vibrato that plagues so many interpretations. When he finally appeared in the fourth scene of Act I, his virtuosic aria, `Let festal joy triumphant reign,' immediately set the tone for the rest of his performance. He navigated with ease the difficult vocal meanderings and ornamentation of Handel's music, making it seem the most natural thing in the world. His range was admirably secure at both ends, transitioning beautifully through the demanding sinuousness of the score. In a performance in which standards of enunciation were high, Kennedy excelled; he was an unquestioned highlight of the evening, as was his wonderful Act I duet with Ms. Lee, `O dearer than my life, forbear.' Ms. Lee was in top form here, her mournful pleading with her son genuinely affecting as maternal love and worry coloured every note. Her phrasing was refined and beautiful, a wonderful contrast to Belshazzar's arrogance, so strongly conveyed by Mr. Kennedy.

In the Persian camp, countertenor Gary Crichlow gave a solid interpretation of the righteous Cyrus. If he seemed underpowered initially, his vocal presence seemed to grow as the performance continued, and he contributed some very strong arias, particularly in the later acts. His rendition of `Destructive war thy limits know' featured some truly impressive handling of markedly demanding singing, and his intonation was always commendably secure. He was wonderfully animated in the role, too, suffusing his scenes with all the energy and drama one could desire in order for an unstaged oratorio to be brought properly to life. If he didn't stand out in his role the way Mr. Kennedy did as Belshazzar, he nevertheless proved more than equal to the demands of the part. Likewise with Lisandro Abadie's portayal of Gobryas, a Babylonian who defects to the Persians after Belshazzar murders his son. Mr. Abadie was a strong vocal presence, if sometimes less inspired than he might have been; his aria `Opprest with never-ceasing Grief', while well sung with excellent diction, seemed perfunctory rather than moving. However, it ought to be conceded that Gobryas is something of a dour part anyway; despite that, Mr. Abadie's bass provided moments of great beauty, and it is hard to imagine the role significantly better sung.

Similarly, David Allsop offered exquisite singing as the Jewish prophet Daniel. His countertenor voice was more immediately captivating than Mr. Crichlow's, ringing out majestically in `Oh sacred oracles of truth.' In his stately and nuanced reading of the score, Mr. Allsop excelled in portraying Daniel's piety and grace. The intonation of his upper register was precise, his tone majestic and gleaming; if his lower range was occasionally less smooth, he nevertheless offered a performance that was exquisitely sung. Like Mr. Kennedy's Belshazzar, his diction was clear and his restraint over vibrato commendable; his interpretation of Daniel deciphering God's writing at Belshazzar's feast and his exuberant `Not to thyself thy trifles be' in Act II were truly impressive, as was his singing throughout.

The minor roles were similarly well executed, Alexander Sprague making a strong Arioch, a Babylonian lord fleeing the onslaught of the Persians, and Laurence Meikle a lyrical messenger. The London Handel Singers were a unifying thread that held the evening together, their choruses achieving a consistently beautiful harmony. They gave wonderful characterizations of the various choruses that appear in the work, bringing fully to bear the marvellous delineation of nationalities effected by Handel in the score. The Babylonian chorus in `Behold by Persia's Hero made' was portrayed with a lustrous sense of exultation and derisiveness, sharing Belshazzar's unchecked arrogance as it mocked the Persians beyond the city walls; the chorus of the Jews attained the necessary solemnity and sense of spiritual grace, weighed down by oppression yet secure in piety and looking forward to promised deliverance; the chorus of the Persians echoed the martial buoyancy of the victorious Persian soldiers. Handel's brilliant vocal colouring is nowhere more evident than in his expressive choral writing for the three nationalities in Belshazzar, and the London Handel Singers did full justice to this in a considered and powerful performance.

It was Handel's great gifts as a dramatist that allowed him to fashion oratorios such as Belshazzar, which succeeds through its marvellous musical expressiveness and characterization to be so intensely dramatic despite being unstaged. In their well-paced and thoroughly enjoyable reading of the score, The London Handel Orchestra and Singers under Mr. Cummings succeeded in driving this point home. Though a work like Belshazzar is never going to appeal to everyone, The London Handel Festival made a good case for the value in seeking to preserve and promote this rarefied form of music; the festival continues until the beginning of April, and anyone with an interest in Handel and his superlative dramatic and musical gifts is encouraged to look at their very good selection of offerings. As the first of the new season, this performance of Belshazzar certainly bodes well for the rest.

John E. De Wald
Opera Britannia