“The Creation portrays a world that (for a brief dewy morning) stands in no need of redemption
An odd choice of repertoire for Belfast on a Good Friday? Even leaving the politics and theology aside, it’s hard to imagine a piece more remote from the usual anguished Pass-iontide fare.
…What we got at the Ulster Hall was surround-sound happiness. The Ulster Orchestra, under its principal conductor, Daniele Rustioni, accompanied the 100-strong Belfast Philharmonic Choir, and it didn’t feel too many. Intimidated by the slimline aesthetic of period instrument orthodoxy, most symphony orchestras feel compelled to shrink 18th-century music down to chamber scale. In fact (as Christopher Hogwood demonstrated back in 1991), Haydn’s own Vienna performances fielded an orchestra of 120, which isn’t far short of Mahler’s Eighth. But Rustioni’s forces certainly filled the stage, and they sounded buoyant. The Ulster Hall was new to me; it’s one of those high-roofed Victorian assembly rooms that acoustically just seems to work. A mural in the foyer listed the city council’s repeated attempts to have it demolished.
Anyway, on this occasion it resounded. There was enough vibrato to give the strings a supple, glossy tone without impeding Rustioni’s dance-like phrasing. The man’s a livewire: speeds were swift, but the effect was more like puppyish enthusiasm than breathless haste, and the woodwinds, in particular, played with huge sweetness and character, individually and as the heart of the ensemble sound. It’s tricky to judge the condition of an orchestra when it’s accompanying a choir, but it sounded as if the good reports about Rustioni in Ulster are justified. The choir was just as fresh: no hint of weakness in the usual areas (tenors and high sopranos), and no trace of weariness as the evening progressed – in fact they seemed to be holding energy in reserve.
…Performances of The Creation tend, by their nature, to be cheerful occasions, but this is the first time I’ve witnessed an audience laughing out loud, or indeed rising to their feet for what looked like a wholly unpremeditated ovation. Rustioni turned to the audience, placed his hand on his chest and led the entire company – players, chorus, the lot – in a deep bow of appreciation. A class act.”
The Spectator, Richard Bratby