Handel Messiah – Fasolis and I Barocchisti

Album cover art

Georg Friedrich Haendel (1685–1759)
Messiah [KM]
Lynn Dawson (soprano), Guillaumette Laurens (mezzo-soprano), Charles Daniels (tenor), Antonio Abete (bass)
Coro della Radio Svizzera
I Barocchisti, Duilio Falfetti (leader)
Diego Fasolis (director)
Recorded June 2000, Chiesa di San Nicolao, Lugano, Switzerland
ARTS 47627-2 [141:10]

Another Messiah. That sigh of inevitability that seems to accompany every new issue of Handel’s everlasting oratorio. One might wonder—do we really need yet another version of this hallowed work, given the ocean of choices already floating about?

This release, under Diego Fasolis’s direction, offers a execution that is—how to put this gently?—unremarkable, certainly not revolutionary, and, at times, disappointingly tentative. The venue, the Chiesa di San Nicolao, provides a resonant acoustic, warm and slightly cavernous, which suits — the glint of natural trumpets and crisp Baroque oboes but also invites a certain muddiness when clarity falters. The ensemble, I Barocchisti, is on period instruments and, in truth, they deliver with the kind of — supple articulation and attentive phrasing one would expect from a group so steeped in early music traditions.

That particular brightness of period instruments catches the ear.

The sinuous string lines shimmer with clean bow strokes, but there is a cautiousness, a reluctance to fully embrace Handel’s dramatic contrasts, especially in the slow movements where tension should palpitate rather than simply linger. The choir—Coro della Radio Svizzera—is the shining light here. Their chorus satisfies with a rich, layered texture, the kind that manages to be both forceful and nuanced.

Take the opening chorus of Part Two, for example: it brims with vitality and careful dynamic shading. There’s an admirable balance between robust fortissimos and — well — the subtle pianissimos, which lends the work the dramatic weight it demands. Yet, one can’t help but feel the ensemble sometimes errs on the side; of polish over passion, as if prioritizing immaculate sound over raw spiritual fervor.

Now, the soloists. They haplessly suffer from what one might term a pervasive “vibritis”—that nervous twitch in the voice that disrupts the pure line and evenness of tone. Lynn Dawson’s soprano, while technically secure, rarely projects with the authority that Handel’s soaring melodies require.

Guillaumette Laurens’s mezzo, tasked with the heartrending “He was despised and rejected,” is especially underwhelming. Instead of drawing us into the anguished pathos of the text, her delivery flutters uncertainly, undermined by intonation issues and unexplained hesitations that rob the aria of its tragic bite. Charles Daniels and Antonio Abete fare little better; their tenors and basses seem almost apologetic, reluctant to fully inhabit the heroic and prophetic roles Handel assigns.

This diffidence — unfortunately, bleeds into the sense of dramatic momentum. Fasolis’s pacing is measured but occasionally plods. There are moments when the natural ebb and flow of Handel’s rhetoric—the tension and release that are the lifeblood of Messiah—dissipate into mere routine.

The recitatives, those crucial narrative bridges, lack the crisp declamation and rhythmic verve that would have enlivened the story, instead feeling somewhat perfunctory. One longs for a more incandescent approach—something that would seize the listener’s attention by the lapels rather than allowing the music to drift comfortably in the background. In sum, this Messiah is a competent reading but not a compelling one.

The ensemble’s period credentials and the fine choral work cannot quite compensate for the underpowered solo performances and an overall sense of timidity. For listeners seeking a fresh or particularly insightful interpretation, this recording is unlikely to displace more vivid and emotionally gripping alternatives already well established in the catalogue. In the perpetual crowd of Messiahs, this one whispers where it ought to shout.

It’s worth a listen—especially for the choral splendour—but beyond that, it is hard to recommend as a definitive or even a memorable iteration.

Tom Fasano has been writing reviews of classical music recordings for the past quarter century. He's finally making them public on this blog.

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