The Engish Concert at Carnegie Hall
A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever
By: Susan Hall - May 07, 2025
The English Concert performed a semi-staged, off-book production of Handel’s Giulio Cesare in Egitto at Carnegie Hall. This annual visit by one of the world’s premier Baroque ensembles is eagerly awaited — and this year did not disappoint.
The orchestra featured period instruments, including two theorboes and a viola da gamba. A valveless, small-belled horn added a bright, radiant sound. The pace was brisk, yet allowed time for the beauty and complexity of Handel’s music to resonate.
The women of the evening were stunning. Cornelia, widow of the beheaded Pompey, swept onstage in flowing grey, sparkling with sequins and draped in a shawl that touched the floor like a veil. All the men want her now that she’s "available." Cleopatra appeared seductively alluring in black, her skirt parting at times to reveal striking legs, at others cloaked in touches of maroon.
Cornelia, a mezzo-soprano role, was performed by Beth Taylor, who delivered robust yet nuanced tones throughout the opera.
Handel is an endlessly fascinating composer — his chord progressions surprise, his characters (as expressed in music) intrigue, and his bold orchestrations delight. Not to diminish the expertise of harpsichordist and leader Harry Bicket and the musicians of The English Concert, but this music simply pleases. It reaches across tastes, even capturing the attention of die-hard hipsters.
This production also highlighted Handel’s playful sense of humor. The singers embraced, and even playfully pummeled one another. Some duets paired singer and instrument directly. In one such moment, a horn stood beside Caesar (countertenor Christophe Dumaux) as he sang of his fears about Tolomeo, King of Egypt. Tolomeo was sung by John Holiday, whose beautiful voice contrasted with his character’s villainy.
Louise Alder, as Cleopatra, sang alongside a violin that mimicked birdsong when she — in disguise — first met Caesar. These unusual duets, with singer and instrumentalist positioned side by side, added drama and intimacy.
A recent production of Giulio Cesare at Hudson Hall saw singers creeping across the stage when imprisoned or sexually entangled. At Carnegie, we witnessed similar crawling, used to equally dramatic effect.
Beheaded leaders — martial and spiritual — are gracing New York stages this spring. The head of John the Baptist is served up erotically in Salome; here at Carnegie, Pompey’s head is paraded again and again. Caesar, notably, did not approve of Pompey’s murder — he had hoped for a truce. This warrior disapproved of capital punishment, an interesting twist drawn directly from Plutarch’s portrait. We are watching these performances today with tangled thoughts about the future of political leadership.