Dunedin Consort: Handel’s Messiah

Queen’s Hall, Edinburgh, 17/12/25.

Weblink:  https://www.dunedin-consort.org.uk/diary/2512-messiah-edinburgh/

Dunedin Consort, John Butt (director & harpsichord), Nardus Williams (soprano), Lotte Betts-Dean (mezzo-soprano), Joshua Ellicott (tenor), Dingle Yandell (baritone)

Two years ago, I wrote “I will always number myself among those for whom The Dunedin Consort’s annual oratorio tour is an unmissable seasonal treat”.  Then, last year, I missed it.  So I was particularly delighted to be back reviewing the Dunedin’s ‘Messiah’ this year, from Edinburgh’s Queen’s Hall on the night of 17th December.  The “less is more” philosophy of the consort honoured and was vindicated by their customary line-up. John Butt directed from a standing position at a virginals-style small harpsichord.  The twelve singers, three of each voice, included the four soloists. The gut-stringed instruments numbered three of each violin line, two each of violas and cellos, and a double bass, bowed with Baroque bows held in authentic bow-holds. Two baroque trumpets in D, small timpani and a portable continuo organ completed the instrumental ensemble.  Gut strings do demand regular checking of the tuning but, as I have remarked before, even when tuning the Dunedin Consort sound is a boon.

No matter how often I attend a Dunedin ‘Messiah’, I am blown away, not only  by the dynamic power, but also the clarity of diction and richness of expressivity achieved with a chorus of only 12 singers. This time I can add to that an additional observation: there was an agile crispness and precision in the faster and more ornamented choruses, such as ‘And He shall purify’, ‘All We, Like Sheep’, and ‘Let us break their bonds asunder’.  All the big choruses were thrilling and dramatic: ‘And the Glory of the Lord’, ‘Glory to God in the Highest’, ‘Lift Up Your Heads’, ‘Hallelujah!’ and, of course, ‘Worthy is the Lamb’ and the final ‘Amen’.  ‘Behold the Lamb of God’, which opens the second part, was fabulously chilling, as were the male voices in ‘He trusted in God, that He would deliver Him’.  But the biggest choral goosebumps, just like two years ago, were delivered by “For unto us …”.  The award for orchestral goosebumps goes to the delicious counterpoint and the cheeky end in ‘Glory to God …’, though that could readily be contested by multiple other moments of utter scrumptiousness.

I first heard English soprano Nardus Williams in concert back in March at a Dunedin programme which featured Bach’s ‘Actus Tragicus’ with works by Telemann and Fennessey, and I was impressed with her captivating expressiveness and tone, crystal clarity and exquisite shaping of both phrase and note, so I had high expectations. They were not confounded. The joy and wonder of the narrative of the angelic host appearing to the shepherds, between the Pastoral Symphony and the chorus ‘Glory to God …’ were tangible and compelling, the work of a consummate storyteller and communicator. The exuberance of the aria ‘Rejoice greatly’ with its more sober central promise ‘He shall speak peace’ was delicious. ‘How beautiful are the feet of him’ carried the same delight, while ‘I Know that My Redeemer Liveth’ conveyed a persuasive certainty. The messa-di-voce shaping of the long notes in ‘If God be with us’ was peerless.  Superb.

Australian mezzo Lotte Betts-Dean became known to me on the first day of this year’s Lammermuir Festival with a programme of song by Scottish composer Stuart MacRae, most of it written specifically for her,  Quotes from that review include “spellbinding vocal technique”; “immediately clear why Lotte’s vocal prowess had guided Stuart’s creativity”; “an extraordinary assortment of vocal techniques with contrasts of timbres, registers, resonances, dynamics, breathing and vibrato”; “ornamentation not unlike Irish sean-nós” and “an improvised vocalise”.  I mention these because the phenomenal vocal instrument that had been at Lotte’s command in Whitekirk was not fully so in Edinburgh. The same flawless intonation and clarity of diction were still fully present, but the dynamic and tonal ranges, the toolkit from which an artist’s expressive range is projected, were sadly not.  In particular, and I draw attention to this out of concern for an artist’s health and that of her vocal instrument, the lowest part of the alto tessitura and the upper part of the mezzo, all of which Handel visits, were diminished in dynamic power. There were still plenty of moments of surpassing beauty, such as the ornamented cadenza in the middle of  ‘But Who May Abide the Day of His Coming’.  When, in the same number and others (such as ‘Thou art gone up on high’), Handel leaps from low Baroque alto to mid mezzo, it proved tricky to maintain a uniform timbre.  Three years ago, my first live hearing of mezzo Helen Charlston was in that year’s Dunedin ‘Messiah’ in the same venue.  I recall being comprehensively wowed by the pathos of a guilt-laden reading of ‘He Was Despised and Rejected of Men’.  Ms Betts-Dean did not lack the pathos, but the loss of dynamic oomph did steal some of the drama.  The duet with the tenor, ‘O Death, where is thy Sting?’ was beautiful indeed, but unusual in that the lower, tenor tessitura sounded brighter than the supposed higher alto. I know that Lotte is in possession of a phenomenal vocal instrument and enviable skill in its use.  I do not know, and will not speculate over, what circumstances placed these blandishments at the edge of her reach on this occasion.  So I can only express a fervent wish for a full and rapid recovery. There was something heroic in her performance.

I first saw English tenor Joshua Ellicott three years ago in Perth Concert Hall, in an excellent Dunedin Consort performance of Mozart’s C Minor Mass.  The tenor gets to set the ball rolling after the austere introductory Sinfony, with a mood of hope, in ‘Comfort Ye, My People’, followed by ‘Ev’ry valley shall be exalted’, the former displaying gloriously warm tone with richly expressive phrasing, the latter playful with fabulous diction. The extended sequence beginning with ‘Thy Rebuke Hath Broken His Heart’ and continuing until the chorus ‘Lift up your Heads’ is, let’s face it, a massive guilt trip on humanity for the suffering meted out to the Lamb of God, and Joshua laid it on pretty thickly, with a liberal helping of drama and pathos in equal measure, exactly what Handel ordered.  Superbly chilling.  ‘The Part Two melodrama in ‘Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron’ was equally graphic. The duet with Ms Betts-Dean in Part Three, ‘O Death, Where is Thy Sting?’, despite the challenges, was nonetheless magical. 

This was a first encounter for me with British bass-baritone Dingle Yandell.  He possesses a voice of phenomenal power allied to refined control, a gift that keeps on giving.  Handel’s generosity was repaid manifold, starting with ‘Thus saith the Lord of Hosts’ (where “I will shake the Heavens and the Earth” did exactly what it said on the tin and included the Queen’s Hall), ‘The People that walked in Darkness’ was radiant and lyrical, ‘Why Do the Nations So Furiously Rage Together?’ was graphically dramatic, and ‘The Trumpet Shall Sound’ had us believing that it was probably imminent.  Dingle brought an impressive dynamic range to these, with agile and elegant ornamentation, never at the expense of the clarity of the melodic line or the diction.  I must confess a particular interest in this first encounter: he is King Marke in Scottish Opera’s ‘Tristan und Isolde’ in March.

Another super ‘Messiah’ from the Dunedin Consort.  And nobody sang “unto wus” or “ev’ry vahilly”, which is always a bonus.