Handel: Solomon
Orchestra and Choir of the Age of Enlightenment, John Butt
Nardus Williams, Helen Charlston, Hugo Hymas, Florian Störtz
Queen Elizabeth Hall. 12 October 2025

The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment opened its 40th anniversary season in impressive style with a performance of Handel’s 1748/9 Solomon in London’s Queen Elizabeth Hall. Described as one of “the most human and spectacular of Handel’s oratorios”, Handel’s colossal work tells the (rather sanitised) story of one of the Bible’s most prominent characters, King Solomon. The three Acts explore themes of leadership through illustrations of Solomon’s qualities. In Act I, his devoutness in consecrating the Temple and (bizarrely, considering the Biblical account of his amours) marital bliss are celebrated “amid flowers, sweet breezes and nightingales’ songs”. Act 2 recognises Solomon’s wisdom as he resolves the famous dispute between two women claiming to be the mother of the same child, whilst the final act highlights the splendour of Solomon’s kingdom through a lavish masque presented to the visiting Queen of Sheba, whose arrival is announced with the now well-known Sinfonia.

It is not easy to put ourselves into the minds of the mid-18th-century audience at Handel’s oratorios. In his excellent and thoughtful programme essay, John Butt has a pretty good attempt at proposing that Handel was relating the Biblical story to the life of George II, who had recently achieved success in the War of the Austrian Succession and the final fling of the Jacobite rising in 1745. But I wonder how many attendees at the original three performances would have read it as a comment on their current Hanovarian monarch, rather than the 10th-century BCE Jewish King of what was briefly the united Kingdom of Israel and Judah. On top of all that, I am sure that I wasn’t the only one to superimpose contemporary references to Middle Eastern conflicts and present-day potentates who delight in showing off their “palace … with gold bespread” to visiting dignitaries – or, indeed, proudly promote their skills at property development.

photo Mark Allan

The text of Solomon is often laughable. As it is in English, it was readily understood by the audience, helped by projected texts above the musicians. Handel’s librettist, generally assumed to have been the Jewish poet Moses Mendes, based the text on Biblical sources, aided by Josephus’s later writings on the Jews. His awkward text and rhymes: for example, this from Solomon’s wife – “Bless’d the day when I was led / To ascend the nuptial bed / But completely bless’d the day / On my bosom as he lay / When he call’d my charms divine“, who was later elegantly described by Zadok (the Priest) “Bright and more bright her radiant face appears / Nor dreads the canker’d tooth of rolling years“.

So that leaves the principal joy of the piece, the music. Even that can, arguably, have its detractors, as it can’t be said to be overly subtle or indulgent in elegant arias and recitatives. Much of the music has rather lumpen and foursquare rhythms, usually used by Handel to depict similarly described characters or events. However, it makes up for that in some special orchestral and choral colours and textures, notably through the large-scale choruses and the use of a double choir. The third Act gives full rein to Handel’s musical skills, with the Queen of Sheba (who seemed to arrive on a musical skateboard, such was the speed of her arrival Sinfonia) welcomed by a musical extravaganza as Solomon announces, “Music, spread thy voice around, / Sweetly flow the lulling sound“. A range of differing musical styles are offered, concluding with the dramatic double chorus “Praise the Lord with harp and tongue!”, a movement arguably originally intended as the rousing final chorus of the work. I am sure I spotted quotations of the opening of the Ein feste Burg, the Lutheran “battle hymn”, in this chorus. Handel provided a more subdued coda sequence of a pair of recitatives and arias and a duet from Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, and an entirely secular final chorus “But the fame of the just shall eternally last“, a nod towards the ideals of Enlightenment thinking.

Instrumentally, the OAE were on the expected excellent form, the most notable contributions coming from the oboists Alexandra Bellamy and Oonagh Lee, supported by Sally Jackson, bassoon, together with Lisa Beznosiuk, flute, supported (I think) by Katy Bircher rather than the male mentioned in the programme, and the busy cello continuo of Andrew Skidmore.

The key vocal soloists were exactly as Handel intended with a mezzo-soprano singing the role of Solomon and one soprano taking all three of the key female roles, that of Solomon’s Queen, the First Woman and the Queen of Sheba, the later aided on this occasion by the addition of a regal white robe. The impressive Nardus Williams (pictured above) was the versatile soprano who took these triple roles. Helen Charlston took the principal role of Solomon, helpfully attired suitably for her trouser role and adopting a suitably regal stance. Her voice was particularly impressive in portraying the varying moods of Solomon. Hugo Hymas sang the role of Zadok (the Priest), and Florian Störtz was the Levite.

John Butt emphasised the spectacular aspects of Handel’s score. The spatial effect of the double choir was enhanced by placing the two groups of 16 singers as far apart as possible on either side of the wide QEH stage. This caused occasional problems with timing and made some of the back-and-forth exchanges slightly funnier than they were probably intended.

The programme can be accessed from the OAE website here. As well as information on the performance, including an excellent essay on Solomon by John Butt, it also includes a tribute to Sir Roger Norrington and reflections on the founding of the OAE 40 years ago.

In a slightly awkward clash of timings, as people were arriving for this performance, BBC Radio 3’s Early Music Show was broadcasting a special episode dedicated to the OAE, its history and current residency at Acland Burghley School. It can be heard here.