The Saint Matthew Passion at the OSM | A leader and his double

It’s not every day that you can hear one of Bach’s two passions performed in concert in Montreal. All the more reason to rush to the Passion according to Saint Matthew performed on Wednesday evening by the Orchester symphonique de Montréal under the direction of veteran baroque musician Paul McCreesh. The result is surprising to say the least, with big pluses and big minuses.

Some, like us, may have become acquainted with the British conductor through his often award-winning recordings at Archiv. Is the aura of the musician however overrated? A few months ago, his Passion according to Saint Matthew came last in a blind listen to the venerable Tribune of record reviews of France Music. What about the OSM, for which this repertoire is far from being the daily bread?

The first part of the oratorio, given before a half-full Maison symphonique, did not bode well. The chef appeared tense as soon as he entered the stage, seeming to want to be elsewhere.

The monumental opening chorus, in which both the OSM Choir (mainly professionals) and some forty Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal (in the backstage basket) took part, was too danceable — no longer a question of articulations than speed — free from the drama inherent in the text and the music, which describe the lamentations over the slain Paschal Lamb.

No flexibility in the phrasing, too metronomic beat, harmonic delays that pass as if nothing had happened… The complex chorus “O Mensch, bewein dein Sünde groß” at the end of the first part, which involves all the forces present (including the great Casavant organs), falls completely flat. The starters lack consistency. The heart is definitely not there.

A beneficial break

But after the break comes a totally different Paul McCreesh. This is not the first time that we have witnessed this phenomenon: an amorphous artist at the start of a concert seems transfigured after having gone to take a sip of water or having chatted with colleagues during intermission.

The energy of a performing artist is something strange, which comes naturally to some (Yannick Nézet-Séguin and Bernard Labadie, for example), but more difficult for others, who have to fight harder to reach this state. of almost supernatural grace, which alone can bring about magic.

The British conductor therefore appears quite different to us, even going so far as to leave his lectern to conduct successively each of the two halves of the orchestra forming orchestras I and II requested by Bach. The gesture is suddenly more fluid, fuller, more human.

We are still a long way from risk-taking, from instant invention characteristic of the greatest, but we still have before us a great musician, who takes pleasure in what he does.

The tempos are generally right and allow the music to flow without excessive voluntarism. The chorales always follow the rhythm of the verb, adorning themselves with suitable colors. The very last, after the death of Jesus, is touching with affliction. And the big final chorus hits the target with moment-to-moment intensity.

Uneven performance

And the singers in all this? We go from transcendent to very passable. The German Julian Prégardien, like his father Christoph, is an exceptional evangelist. It’s almost a role that the tenor plays, singing without score and giving each phrase, each word the right inflection. A remarkable speaker, coupled with a sonorous and beautifully timbred voice.

Matthew Brook, who was originally supposed to sing only Jesus, added the various bass tunes initially entrusted to his colleague Philippe Sly, who withdrew. We would listen for hours to this born musician, whose supple voice gives nobility and character to everything he sings.

Despite a more succinct contribution, Geoffroy Salvas is flawless in the other bass characters with a round and powerful voice and a luminous presence.

German soprano Marie-Sophie Pollak, who had previously sung in theChristmas Oratorio of Bach with the OSM three years ago, has a beautiful voice, small in volume, but well projected, which nevertheless shows some limits in the treble.

Tenor Werner Güra and mezzo-soprano Caitlin Hulcup, however, were much more disappointing. The first was a splendid singer a decade or two ago, but his voice has become thickened. The highs, taken from below for the most part, are most often laborious.

The second has a warm voice, but whose pharyngeal emission leads to a lack of projection, not to mention an unpleasant tremolo and a three-quarter shifted intonation. His “Können Tränen meiner Wangen” was nothing short of painful.

The choirs, exceptionally prepared by Jean-Sébastien Vallée, were effective, despite a certain lack of light in the treble and a sometimes questionable choice of solo singers.