Dreaming of Gerontius

I went to a performance of Elgar's The Dream of Gerontius on Saturday, at Birmingham's stunningly-restored Town Hall. The performance was by the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, and the Ex Cathedra Choir. Jeffrey Skidmore conducted and the soloists were Anna Stéphany, Adrian Thompson and Roderick Williams ('welease Wodewick!').

Gerontius was premiered at the Town Hall in 1900 - disastrously. This massive oratorio - a weird but moving take on Christian spirituality - was delivered late to the choir, who didn't rehearse properly, and whose director died four months before the first night.

This performance, however, went more than smoothly. Despite not having the slightest trace of religious or spiritual sentiment in my mean and crabby body, I was profoundly affected both by the music and its performance. The choir and orchestra - a 'period instrument' outfit which is for a piece only a century old - played with a lightness of touch which brought out all the sublety thought not to exist in Elgar, whose crusty 'Victorianness' hides (like Tennyson before him and Vaughan Williams later) a more radical core.

Mark's already told me that classical music is dead, but he's an ignorant poseur on this matter. It was disappointing that I was basically the youngest person there by several decades, barring some unwilling or precocious kids. There's a terrible air of smugness in UK classical music which sees a lot of bow tie wearers resentful of all efforts to popularise the art form - unlike Italy, for instance, where it's cheaper and equally acceptable to see an opera as it is to watch Juventus.

Anyway: Saturday's performance was an absolute triumph.