There was alchemy in the air for British conductor Daniel Harding’s debut with the Czech Philharmonic, which would have been memorable for the program alone: a single piece, Schumann’s oratorio Das Paradies und die Peri, one hour and 40 minutes of agonized searching for a ticket to paradise. Even for someone well-versed in the composer’s lesser-known works, it was a bold introduction to a new orchestra and audience. And a sonic experiment of sorts that worked beautifully.
The Peri is a figure from Persian mythology – in this telling, a young woman whose forbidden parentage (a fallen angel father and mortal mother) denies her access to heaven. Only a gift deemed worthy by the angels will open the gates, and it takes three dramatic forays to find it. Five vocal soloists and a full mixed choir provide a poetic narrative carried by a rich melodic flow from the orchestra.
Harding is not a typical conductor, onstage or off. He is a licensed pilot who was planning to take time off to fly for Air France before the pandemic grounded most flights. He claims never to have had any formal training in conducting, but his raw talent was good enough for both Sir Simon Rattle and Claudio Abbado to take him on as a protégé. And his unorthodox style was clear even before he took the podium at the Rudolfinum, with nearly every string section rearranged out of its usual place. The singers were out of their usual alignment as well, two flanking the podium and the rest hard by the brass.
The effect was to round off the sound, which served this piece very well. Its strength is in the melodies, which Harding seemed to have in his blood as he spun light, graceful lines that floated off the stage. His skill in setting up and matching the singers’ emotional tones was equally impressive, though the real master stroke was the visual quality he gave the music. The text is filled with vivid, tragic scenes, which Harding evoked in heart-tugging detail – a bloody battle scene in Part 1, a lover joining her partner in death in Part 2, the Peri’s despair turning to triumph in Part 3. The softer sound took nothing away from the impact of those moments, rendered with depth and lyricism.
Harding recorded Schumann’s Szenen aus Goethes Faust with two of the singers heard here, soprano Christiane Karg and tenor Andrew Staples, and their familiarity and fit with the composer’s work added another dimension to the performance. Karg was lustrous as the Peri, a tender, aching supplicant supported by exquisite backing from Harding, and Staples brought vitality and character to his role as the narrator. He had to be nimble as well, retreating to the rear of the stage to join the other singers for some sublime quartets. Alto Avery Amereau was clear and warm in her solo turns as an angel. Soprano Johanna Wallroth mirrored the glimmer in the orchestra and bass-baritone Ashley Riches added a somber bottom to the narration.
The Prague Philharmonic Choir has become the gold standard for choral performances in the Czech Republic, and this outing was particularly good. With the edge off its usual electric sound, the group had a chance to show a richer, fuller side, especially in its golden invocation of heavenly choirs. Secular music never sounded so spiritual. And the only thing lacking in the “Chorus of Houris” that opens Part 3 was flower petals drifting down from the gallery onto the stage.
It’s tempting to say that this piece should be performed more often. Certainly it deserves to be, but that would take away from this performance, which was an exceptional admixture of material, performers and place. As debuts at the Rudolfinum go, this was one for the record books.
