It seems to be on-trend to believe that Handel’s oratorio Theodora can only be staged if it's given a contemporary setting. Most famously, Peter Sellars at Glyndebourne had its 4th-century heroes Theodora and Didymus martyred in a Texas prison. More recently, Katie Mitchell required an “alternative modern-day reality” at Covent Garden. It’s true that contemporaries in 1750 found the debut of this penultimate Handel oratorio excessively complex and religious, with its references to John Locke’s Letter on Toleration and literary links to the theme of feminine virtue under threat in synchronous novels such as Samuel Richardson’s Pamela. Not matters to be set to music.
Mind you, Theodora’s librettist, Thomas Morell, quoted Handel as saying, “The Jews will not come to it because it is a Christian story; and the Ladies will not come because it is a virtuous one.” But Lindy Hume’s simple concert version – in contemporary dress – makes the case for Theodora being both magnificent music and a timeless ethical debate on the subject of religious faith per se being more valid than sectarian difference. Not a production to tour to Tehran.
Pinchgut Opera’s staging – housed by Opera Australia in the Sydney Opera House for ithe first time – placed the Orchestra of the Antipodes on one side the stage, the Cantillation chorus back left, leaving just enough room for limited action by the five principals in front of that highly responsive group. For the chorus is required to convert from Saturnalian Romans applauding Governor Valens’ (David Greco) lusty call for “racks, gibbets, sword and fire” for anyone not celebrating Caesar’s birthday, to dedicated Christians holding the Good Book up reverently as they sang.
This minimalism allowed us to concentrate on the tragic tale and Morell’s arguments for freedom of the mind. Handel’s lively accompaniments, managed by HIP-master, organist and conductor Erin Helyard, constantly delighted as each recitative foretold an aria’s mood, or the composer wittily extended words like “endless” and underlined the ecstasy in Didymus’ relish for the prospect of “encircling flames”.
American countertenor Christopher Lowrey may have looked more like a boy scout than a soldier in this role, but sang like a true choirboy, turning Church Militant when rescuing his Theodora from that fate worse than death: prostitution in the Temple of Venus. How wonderful that the thoroughly decent general Septimius (charming tenor Michael Petrucelli) came to recognise that even Venus herself wouldn’t appreciate Theodora’s rape, allowing him to assist her brief escape.
Samantha Clarke, in robes of virginal white, sang with the purity demanded of her role as Theodora and mingled her lustrous treble with Lowrey’s in their pair of doomed duets. Indeed, her first words are “Fond, flattering world, adieu!” Clarke was matched by Helen Sherman's creamy contralto as the leader of the Christians, clad in Virginal blue.
It may all sound rather po. But the surprising contributions of a performative chorus and the scampering strings lead by a visiting Alice Evans never allowed for ennui. Did I spot some subtle mic-ing for Simon Martyn-Ellis’s influential theorbo? And was the commissioning of Brock Imison’s 1714-model contrabassoon more than justified by the gravitas of his contribution to the chorus, “He saw the lovely youth”, which Handel believed superior to his Hallelujah?
