Maybe it’s a little perverse to choose this recording from September 2020, when the Covid lockdowns were still fresh in our memories. It wasn’t an easy recording to make: the orchestra spread wide across the black-and-white floor of St John’s, Smith Square; Sarah with her two-metre stick, making sure we were all abiding by the rules.
I’d like to say that making music together after so long was cathartic — but in truth, it felt so difficult. And yet the music itself kept pulling us through. Rodelinda is that kind of opera; full of grief that is somehow also beautiful.
‘Se’l mio duol non è sì forte’ in Act III is a perfect example. Handel kindly allows the viola to double the bassoon part — something we violists are forever grateful for, and often completely over-excited by. This weaves around the most painfully beautiful soprano line, here sung by Lucy Crowe, whose voice has always had the power to completely floor me.
My father had died in a care home in May of 2020 from coronavirus. He dearly loved music, especially vocal music, and I think now of how he would have played that aria on repeat at top volume, eyes closed and completely immersed in its plaintive beauty.
And when I listen to it now, I hear the magic of the music and the performances within. After such a long and painful time, the fact that we could and did make such a record seems now a feat of real love and commitment.
