her character, her capricious nature and her reluctance to marry Athamus, all within about thirty seconds. I first encountered Miss de Niese back in 2006 in a concert given by Opera Fuoco at St John’s Smith Square as part of the Lufthansa Baroque Festival. In the first half, she and tenor Paul Agnew sang a number of extracts from Semele which completely bowled me over, not least due to her entrancing stage presence, lending more drama to a ‘concert performance’ than I’ve seen many singers give in staged productions of operas. She appeared to make eye contact with each and every member of the audience and remained in character even when seated during the tenor arias. Since then, I’ve encountered her several times in Handel (the revival of Giulio Cesare at Glyndebourne in what must be considered her signature role of Cleopatra, Galatea at Covent Garden and as Ginevra in Ariodante at the Barbican) and have always marvelled at her enthusiasm and the way she communicates with her audience. Her critics could accuse her of being something of a ‘one trick pony’ and there are recognisable traits in her art, moments when her pouting, simpering Semele might seem just too much of a good thing. Overall though, her performance was as winning as usual.
Although this was a concert performance, it follows on swiftly from a series of staged performances at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées, Paris, in a production by David McVicar, so all the singers portrayed their roles with insight and dramatic intensity, none using a score. And what a score! This was a presentation of Handel’s complete oratorio, hence an early starting time of 6:30pm to make sure we could all get home by midnight.
Christophe Rousset led Les Talens Lyriques in a lightly sprung rendition of the Overture, the fugato parts clearly voiced. The arrival of Jupiter’s priests and augers was accompanied by some splendid timpani playing and rollicking period horns. The twenty-strong Théâtre des Champs-Élysées Choir sang with panache, although its mangled English was a drawback.
De Niese’s singing was very fine. ‘The morning lark to mine accords his note’, an aria cut in her CDs of the role with Opera Fuoco, was deftly sung, although her coloratura and trills were not always perfect. Her ‘With fond desiring’ was sensuous (‘panting, fainting’ indeed) – it was easy to see how Jupiter was so easily aroused! She displayed a marvellously comic touch, not without self-mockery, in ‘Myself I shall adore’, playfully toying with the mirror Juno (disguised as Ino) has brought her. Her ambitious embellishments did not always come off, but it was a totally winning rendition. Her flashy coloratura in ‘No, no, I’ll take no less’ was extremely good (much better than her recording of the role) and was invested with plenty of drama as Semele forces Jupiter to accept her wish for him to appear before her in godly form. When Semele expires, burnt to a crisp by Jupiter’s flames, her ‘Ah me! too late I now repent’ was touchingly delivered.
‘Endless pleasure, endless love’ was given not by Semele herself, but by a new character not part of Handel’s original – Cupid – obviously part of the recent Paris staging, where he is presented in dark glasses (love is blind?!). This meant a third soprano was called upon and we were blessed with the superb Claire Debono, whose clear, bell-like top notes were a joy.
The real vocal pyrotechnics of the evening came from Alaskan mezzo-soprano Vivica Genaux, whose rich, treacly tones almost rival those of her compatriot Marilyn Horne, whilst her fizzing coloratura is simply astonishing. In Act I, she sang with touching simplicity and very much within herself as Ino, barely looking at the audience, in direct contrast to her reappearing as Juno in Act II, wearing a severe black coat and launching into a fierce tirade ‘Hence, Iris, hence away’. Despite a seemingly unorthodox technique, her machine-gun coloratura in ‘Above measure’ was deadly. I know of no more exciting baroque singer at present. Singing Jupiter was the American tenor Richard Croft, much underrated as a performer in my view. He presented a pensive Jupiter and appeared to be struggling vocally, at least initially, making heavy weather of the coloratura. However, he husbanded his voice well through a most impressive account of ‘Where’er you walk’, especially in the hushed da capo repeat, his control exemplary.
The small role of Iris, Juno’s confidant, was attractively sung by French soprano Jaël Azzaretti, bringing charm to ‘There, from mortal cares retiring’. Peter Rose sang with something of an old-fashioned Handelian bass style in the dual roles of Cadmus and Somnus, but none the worse for that. His steady tone was most welcome, especially the saturnine-voiced ‘Leave me, loathsome light’ and the humour he brought to the God of Sleep most amusing.
The disappointment of the evening came in Stephen Wallace’s Athamus. His somewhat plummy counter-tenor found the lower register awkward and his runs were smudged in his second aria, ‘Your tuneful voice my tale would tell’. He did revel in the comedy of the role, though, especially his swift acceptance of Ino as his consolation prize after Semele’s demise.
Despite a lengthy evening, Semele’s charms clearly won over the audience. The only regret was that this wasn’t a fully staged performance. The role fits de Niese like a glove and this is a perfect vehicle for her talents. A staging at Glyndebourne would be most desirable. Now, if only she had a contact there to make it happen…
Mark Pullinger
Opera Britannia
invited to join composer Anna Meredith, sound designer Sam Godin and the classically trained Indian singer Falu, in an evening where they can record Satyagraha-inspired loops that will form part of the “Remix”. 
even as warmly as they did to Thomas Adès’ The Tempest. Both these works were broadcast live on BBC Radio 3, and each of these broadcasts has been cleaned up and recently issued on double CD (Adès on EMI, 2009; MacMillan on Chandos, 2010). Both operas also have composers who enjoy successful careers as conductors, but while Adès conducted The Royal Opera House forces at Covent Garden, it was unfortunate that on the night when The Sacrifice was broadcast from the Wales Millennium Theatre with Welsh National Opera, MacMillan was unwell and was therefore forced to hand over the reins to Anthony Negus.
of recession by the magnificent margin of point squit of a zillionth, it was nice actually to encounter something quite so uncomplicatedly positive as her recital. Opera singers, in the up-close and personal context of a recital room, fall into extremely contrasting categories, ranging from the all-singing, all-dancing Ethel Merman-esque firecrackers (Cecilia Bartoli) to the half-barmy and catatonic (um, better exercise some discretion here, I suppose) by way of sassy, sweet ‘n simple, straightforward or sepulchral, the raunchy or the reverential, the bullish or the businesslike. 
Covent Garden, the Metropolitan and, as preserved on this DVD, the Festspielhaus Baden-Baden, each of the original directors was no longer around to supervise his show's latest outing. This matters less, of course, in stagings that cleave close to the scenic and theatrical givens of the work as conceived by Hofmannsthal and Strauss in microscopic detail, than in ones like that under consideration here that avail themselves of varying degrees of liberty and licence.
