Feelings run high in classical music, especially now. You sense it in audience behaviour. At the Festival Hall last week, Crispin Woodhead, chief executive of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, came on stage before a performance of Bach’s Mass in B minor. The gist of his brief welcome, of which more shortly, was to thank the audience for buying tickets: in so doing, they were supporting an organisation that believes in excellence and in making music available to all. We all knew what he meant. No need to say the words “BBC” or “Singers” or “Arts Council” or “cuts”. But there was unexpected opposition. A man at the front started shouting and gesticulating. The crowd jeered back in an effort to silence him, some in language even more colourful than his own. For an instant, the atmosphere was nasty. He was escorted out. The performance began, magnificent and affecting, and the loss was his.
Bach finished this two-hour choral work in 1749, a year before his death. His reason for writing it is unknown. He probably never heard it performed in its entirety and may not have intended it as a single work. The challenge to the singers is immense. At times, the choral writing is in five parts, high-lying, exposed, technically difficult, tiring. The 22-strong Choir of the Enlightenment was impeccable, each entry confident and precise, keeping up with the brisk tempi set by the conductor, Václav Luks, in his OAE debut. Czech-born, a harpsichordist as well as horn player, Luks is an early music specialist. His application and care showed in every bar and in the thoughtful coherence of the whole: look out for his name.
