Handel’s first oratorio was Esther, composed in 1732. Then, from the late 1730s
– despite composing operas at a phenomenal rate: one every eight
months on average – he began to concentrate less on that form,
and more on oratorio. There are several reasons for this: oratorio
was a new form in English and in many ways sat better with London
audiences used to more down-to-earth dramatic conventions than
the plots of some of his operas. Oratorio also appealed closely
to English Protestant sensibilities. There were advantages of
language; what was more, it required no expensive stage spectacle,
and was able to draw on ‘native’ singers. But what we have on
this CD both is and is
not a Handel
oratorio…
Johann Christoph Schmidt the elder
was born in 1683; he may have met Handel in Halle
while the latter was briefly a student there. In 1716 he certainly
accepted Handel’s invitation to join him in London as principal
copyist, anglicizing his name and surviving him by just four
years. Handel manuscripts, including some of his conducting
scores, were bequeathed to Smith and eventually to his son,
John Christopher Smith the younger, who was born in Germany
in 1712 but came to London with his father. He it was who, as
a child, took keyboard lessons from Handel, studied composition
with – amongst others – Pepusch, collaborated
with Garrick and helped the blind
Handel with performances of what were genuine Handel oratorios.
So Smith was uniquely well placed to continue the tradition
of promoting Handel oratorios – both in idea and actuality -
after the composer’s death in 1759, co-operating with the organist
John Stanley on Friday performances in Lent in London, for example.
Tobit is what’s known
as a ‘pasticcio’. As well as various kinds of ‘mixture’, pasticcio
in Italian that can actually mean ‘a mess’, as in “What a mess!”
rather than pastiche. By the early eighteenth century it meant
a kind of composite – often of music by different composers –
with more of a commercial than an artistic purpose. By the time
of Handel’s death Smith had quite a stock of operas and oratorios
on which to draw and from which to assemble saleable items for
performance; though it’s clear from the persuasive music on this
CD that money was not his (only) objective: he knew good and worthwhile
music. By 1764 he had put Rebecca together and at the same time Nabal
to a libretto by Thomas Morell, a Cambridge
cleric. It was the librettist’s task for these pasticci
to fit words to pre-existing music. This Morell
also did in the case of Tobit using the text of the eponymous apocryphal
book in the Greek Septuagint and the Bible.
The music is by Handel,
but not from an oratorio called Tobit
by him. There’s no such thing. In fact it’s compiled from other
of his operas, oratorios and miscellaneous other works by Smith
and tells the story of the pious and faithful Tobias the elder
(Tobit) who is persecuted for – amongst
other things - burying the dead. His adversary is the new ruler,
Sennacherib - on whom Mussorgsky later
took revenge in his Byron setting. Eventually Tobit
drives adversity off and lives long enough to see his son, also
Tobias, married to Sarah whom he meets (and ‘saves’) on the long
journey that forms the main action of Tobit.
It’s easy to conclude that Smith’s motives were ones of moral
exhortation; good triumphs in every respect: Tobit’s
blindness is cured and the bad city of Nineveh destroyed.
You should not, however,
expect an ill-fitting ragbag of Handel-like numbers, unconnected
by anything except the story. In fact, Tobit
is constructed of well-paced numbers (recitatives, arias, choruses
etc), contains some very beautiful music (particularly the choruses)
and repays careful listening. There are beautiful moments – many
of them; in 2½ hours the music never lags; variety ensures that
the musical and dramatic development are carried simply forward
and interest maintained and sustained throughout. Almost all the
music is palpably Handelian and vigorously
executed at that: these are not soloists or an orchestra who get
involved with messes – and they acquit themselves admirably here.
This CD is taken from a live performance – very live, in
fact: there are several moments of extraneous noise, which are
at times almost intrusive, though not so much so as to spoil
the performance, which is in English. In addition to the usual
biographies and notes about the performance, though not the
libretto, the CD liner lists the 66 separate sources from which
the music is taken. Even Joachim Carlos Martini has a hand in
some of the additions, which are annotated in the list.
Handel purists will probably jib at the very concept of
‘compiling’ a would-be integral whole from disparate parts.
But when one remembers just how much borrowing and recycling
of his own works Handel did, the wrench is a little slighter.
If it’s an enjoyable, well-performed and moving oratorio by
the Baroque’s greatest exponent thereof that you want, then
this 2-CD Naxos offering of an otherwise rare article should
certainly be given a chance.
Mark Sealey
