Georg Friedrich Haendel (1685–1759)
Partenope
Meredith Hall (soprano), Kai Wessel (countertenor), Annette Markert (mezzo-soprano), Christopher Josey (countertenor), John McVeigh (tenor), William Berger (bass)
Philharmonia Baroque Ensemble / Nicholas McGegan
Recorded live May 30 – June 5, 2001, International Handel Festival, Göttingen
Göttingen Handel Society [No catalogue number]
Available exclusively through Göttingen Handel Society membership: www.haendel.org
Live recordings have their own peculiar charm—and their pitfalls. The Göttingen Festival’s Partenope from 2001, under Nicholas McGegan’s experienced baton, offers a vivid case. On the one hand, this is Partenope at its most spirited: a work that’s often overshadowed by Handel’s weightier opera seria, yet here reveals itself as a dazzling concoction of wit, vocal agility, and instrumental flair.
On the other, the recording itself is a mixed bag, hampered by the raw honesty of its live capture. Right from the overture, the listener is plunged into an environment that’s as much theatrical as musical—audience laughter echoes through the instrumental passages of Act 2, a reaction that seems as spontaneous as distracting. The applause—frequent and thunderous—follows nearly every aria, breaking immersion with a kind of unrelenting enthusiasm that, while flattering in intent, becomes wearisome.
It’s clear there was little post-production editing to tame these interruptions or the incidental stage noises: footsteps, set movements, and whispered asides intrude upon the recitatives, diminishing their dramatic intimacy. Sonically, the balance leans towards the singers, with voices miked quite closely. This proximity sometimes causes them to drift in and out of the mix, a bit like watching a play through a window smeared with condensation.
The orchestra, led by the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra under McGegan, is generally well judged—though the horns in the closing aria of Act 1, “Io seguo sol fiero,” occasionally assert themselves too aggressively, upsetting the subtle equilibrium between winds and strings that Handel so carefully crafted. Their timbral richness is undeniable, yet here they verge on brass band assertiveness. Annette Markert’s Rosmira is the production’s shining beacon.
Her mezzo-soprano brings a lustrous warmth and a polished agility that cut through the texture with a natural ease. Markert’s coloratura is secure, her phrasing sensitive to Handel’s expressive nuance; when she sings,; one can almost see the subtle arch of her brow conveying the character’s emotional shifts. Contrast this with Meredith Hall’s Partenope—a voice that, regrettably, sounds fatigued and uneven.
Her vibrato tends to oscillate excessively, sometimes veering into a tremulousness that undermines the clarity of the high tessitura Handel demands. Several top notes come off strained rather than brilliant, which is a shame given the role’s vocal fireworks. The supporting cast is uneven.
Both countertenors—Kai Wessel and Christopher Josey—deliver technically competent but somewhat hesitant performances, lacking the assuredness one might hope for in Handel’s demanding da capo arias. John McVeigh’s tenor fares better; though he occasionally leans on vibrato in a — way that can blur pitch focus, his tone is generally pleasant and — well — well supported. William Berger’s bass is solid but unremarkable.
The choral segments, a rarity in Handel’s operatic output but present here when soloists unite, are a particular weak point—unbalanced and lacking unified diction, they sound more like an amateur gathering than the polished ensemble required for Handel’s intricate ensemble writing. Musically, Partenope itself is a delight. David Vickers’ notes—part of this release’s documentation—commend it as “consistently superb,” and I concur that Handel’s score crackles with wit and invention.
The interplay between the comic and the serious, the interplay of vocal lines within the da capo form, the imaginative orchestration: all these shine through despite the recording’s technical shortcomings. But those shortcomings are persistent, and they do rob the listener of the full pleasure this opera deserves. In sum, this Göttingen live document is an intriguing artifact for the Handel enthusiast—especially those interested in period execution practice and the festival’s historical milieu.
But it is far from an ideal listening experience. The incessant audience noise, uneven singing, and sonic quirks prevent this Partenope from standing alongside the better studio or even other live recordings made at Göttingen. If you prize pristine sound and — well — consistently polished vocalism, look elsewhere.
This one remains a curiosity rather than a recommendation.
