RSNO: Christmas Oratorio

Glasgow Royal Concert Hall - 25/11/23

RSNO | RSNO Chorus

Sir James MacMillan, conductor | Rhian Lois, soprano | Roderick Williams, baritone

Before the night of 25th November, the words ‘Christmas Oratorio’ have always unambiguously meant Bach to me and, to be honest, more recently evoked the fondest thoughts of the Dunedin Consort.  No longer.  Sir James MacMillan’s 2019 composition, a commission of the London Philharmonic Orchestra et al. and first performed in Amsterdam in 2021, received its Scottish premiere in the Usher Hall on 24th, reprised in Glasgow’s Royal Concert Hall the following night, with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra and RSNO Chorus, Welsh soprano Rhian Lois and baritone Roderick Williams, conducted by the composer.  This review refers to the Glasgow performance.

The oratorio is structured in two parts, each following a palindromic Sinfonia-Chorus-Aria-Tableau-Aria-Chorus-Sinfonia plan.  The two central Tableaux narrate directly from the Gospels, with orchestra, soloists and chorus all performing. The Arias, two for each soloist, are settings of poems by Southwell, Donne and Milton. The Choruses are settings of Latin liturgical texts, apart from the last one, which is a Scottish lullaby.  The parenthesising Sinfonias are instrumental pieces, sometimes partly meditative but mostly thrillingly expressive and unrestrained.  The performance also featured something I have not seen before: a BSL performer Paul Whittaker signing, not only the text, but also a kind of choreographed audio description of the music.

The opening Sinfonia, from tentative clarinet trills, became a joyous tripping folkdance with a lovely part for celeste, played by Lynda Cochrane, morphing to an awe-inspiring glissando triplet episode played on the pedal timpani by Guest Principal timpanist Bill Lockhart.  The first Chorus, all in Latin, began with a setting of the ‘O’ antiphon for 21st December, ‘O Oriens’ (O Radiant Dawn – of which MacMillan’s English setting in the Strathclyde Motets is the only MacMillan piece which I have both sung and conducted), continued with an extract from the ‘Credo’ and concluded with part of the Marian antiphon ‘Virgo prius’.  I was reminded of some of the more liturgical elements in Bernstein’s Mass.  Both singing and playing, for which the dynamic balance was flawless, captured not only the sense of an inner light, but also a combination of awed reverence and passionate devotion.  From the first and throughout, the chorus were a credit to their Director, Stephen Doughty, and delivered a committed and compelling performance, a fitting celebration of their 180th Anniversary.  Rhian’s first Aria, a setting of Robert Southey’s poem ‘Behold a Silly Tender Babe’, touchingly contrasting the poverty of the stable with the majesty of divine incarnation, melodiously and expressively drew the audience into the narrative with flawless diction and crystal clarity.  When Scottish Opera bravely restarted in September 2020 with a socially distanced production of La Bohème in English, Rhian’s Musetta was a highlight.  The first of two sweet dialogues between Rhian and the leader Maya Iwabuchi’s violin reminded us why. Delicious. The first Tableau, an extended sequence covering Matthew’s account of the Wise Men, Herod’s plotting, the Flight into Egypt, the Slaughter of the Innocents and the return to Nazareth, was on an uncompromising epic scale, telling the story with stark realism and no punches pulled. The musical depiction of violence and grief were almost unbearably graphic.  I cannot have been the only person present who found the soloists singing in English of ‘Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled”, while the chorus sang the same in Latin, particularly poignant in the light of recent events in Palestine. Imagine Walton’s ‘Belshazzar’s Feast’ under high magnification and you will have a fraction of it.  Roderick’s first solo, a setting of Donne’s poem, ‘Nativity’, less emotively viewing the same events in the light of a divine plan, was touchingly beautiful and when, at the words “Seest thou, my soul …?”, he was joined by Maya in a duet, the violin became his soul.  Roderick puts heart and soul into everything he does (and ye gods, he does so much), so I will not leave it unsaid today that he is my favourite Count Almaviva. The second Chorus, a heroic, rhythmic explosion of pure joy on the Christmas antiphon ‘Hodie Christus natus est’, had some music that would not be out of place in a John Williams film score, but even more unforgettably, an exquisite tripping dance with solo violin and harp and a melody that brought a tear to my eye. The RSNO brass and Chorus left us in no doubt that they meant every word of “Gloria in excelsis Deo”. The solo violin got the last pianissimo word. The Sinfonia that closed Part One started with another rhythmic romp with thrilling writing for percussion, brass and strings.  A nocturnal passage with string chording and celeste, joined by flutes, sustained the joy through a more meditative mood, ending softly with warm brass chords.

The Sinfonia that started Part Two did so with a crash and another eruption of frenzy, energetic on strings, rhythmic chording on winds and brass, with harmonies that Messiaen would have recognised.  The xylophone duelled with vibraphone and then brass with thrilling counterpoint.  A cheeky quiet solo viola comment silenced the turmoil. The Chorus which followed, a setting of the Christmas responsory ‘O Magnum Mysterium’, was indeed mysterious, with quasi-improvisatory chanting underlaid by swirling strings tremolo, glissando and col legno.  A central section had the choir sounding medieval, the volume growing to a huge climax, before a resumption of the out-of-sync chanting and swirling winds.  Roderick’s second Aria, a setting of part of Milton’s ‘On the morning of Christ’s Nativity’, sustained the awed mystic mood.  These introductory numbers prepared us, if anything could have, for the core of Part Two.  Where the previous Tableau had been apocalyptic, this was revelatory.  I have always considered these words to be synonyms (both mean ‘unveiling’ in Greek and Latin respectively).  No longer.  An extract from John’s Gospel dispassionately setting out the nature of Jesus and the prophecy of John the Baptist was introduced mystically by muted horns over trombones and a delicate viola melody.  Over tremolo strings and with breathtakingly beautiful harmony, the two soloists narrated the revelation of John the Baptist, while the mystic prose of the Evangelist was delivered in magical polyphony by the chorus.  Roderick sang the Baptist’s testimony dramatically, before the chorus took the Tableau to its calm conclusion.  Wow.  Rhian’s second Aria, a setting of Southwell’s mystic poem, ‘The Burning Babe, was no less arresting. Big brass chords were followed by strings and a full orchestral sound. The vocal line was dramatic and utterly involving, with compelling flawless diction. Extremely moving. The final Chorus, a Scots Gaelic lullaby/love song sung in English, was introduced by celeste, plainly sung at first, then harmonised, each ‘halleluiah’ refrain touching and very lovely.  The final refrain blossomed into full polyphony, sounding simultaneously ancient and modern, before a celeste cadenza closed. The valedictory Sinfonia opened with a haunting violin solo over throbbing strings. A sustained solo line over pairs of repeated notes recalled the exquisite stillness of the finale of Messiaen’s Quatuor pour le fin de temps, though the line is unmistakable Scottish.  Brass and winds joined prayerfully through a crescendo and diminuendo.  A final repeated emphatic pair closes the work.

MacMillan’s Christmas Oratorio is an extraordinary masterpiece and it received the ultimate Scottish premiere, an unforgettable emotional and spiritual roller-coaster.  I can no longer tolerate being without a recording and will remedy that regrettable situation with a Christmas present to myself.