I wonder what Milano was like in 1773. It can’t have been too bad – it inspired Mozart to write that glorious vocal piece, the Exsultate, jubilate. Yesterday, there wasn’t too much to be cheerful about, however. I heard this piece performed, not in San Antonio Abate, but in Copenhagen.
First, I must admit I wasn’t fond of missing the orchestra. Yesterday the motet, as Mozart called it, was performed by soprano and organ only.
The organ player had a very . . . saccharine approach to the work that I didn’t like at all. I felt he was subduing the intensity of emotion somehow. It was as if he performed it . . . for kids. Soft touches, no attack, all movements performed in almost the same manner. It was, to be honest, a little boring.
As a matter of course, this affected my impression of the soprano’s singing. Perhaps the fact that the text is in Latin is also a problem. The words “exsultate, jubilate” shouldn’t be too difficult, though, and the “alleluia” of the fourth movement should be rather obvious, too. Why, then, couldn’t I hear any outbursts of joy? This piece is about religious relief and thankful happiness. Why did I not feel addressed as a member of the audience? As I see it, the singer is directly addressing the congregation, delivering a message: share the joy!
The soprano in question had a passable technique. Her voice wasn’t unattractive but it lacked colour, I thought. A little more personality. I did, however, get the impression that she had trouble with her top notes. The final C was not so beautiful. But she did give it her all.
I wish I could have Rauzzini though. But I live in Copenhagen, not Milan, and this is 2006, not 1773.