The Judas Passion, classical review: Iscariot of fire

As Bob Dylan learnt at Manchester Free Trade Hall in 1966, “Judas!” remains a particularly venomous insult. But what if we saw Judas as the man who made Christianity possible? Without him there would have been no betrayal, no crucifixion, hence no Christianity.

That’s a central premise of David Harsent’s text for Sally Beamish’s The Judas Passion. Focussing on Judas may not change the story of Christ's crucifixion, but it allows Beamish and Harsent to shift the emphasis, not only to Judas, but also to Mary Magdalene.

Beamish’s musical telling is not opera, but for this London premiere, Peter Thomson was credited as “stage director”. Unfortunately, too much of the minimal action was in slow motion, as if to denote “solemn and serious”. If there was a fault with Beamish’s music, it was that it, too, fell prey to mid-tempo solemnity, but mostly she maintained firm control of narrative momentum, allowing moments of vehement intensity to break through the overwrought earnestness.

The work was a joint commission from two specialist baroque orchestras, one of them the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, and Beamish made the most of the exquisite timbres of the OAE’s “old” instruments: the slightly veiled string sound, the raucous blast of trumpets and horns, the lute’s plinking prettiness.

Best of all, her three soloists carefully shaped her vocal lines with absolute clarity. As Mary Magdalene, Mary Bevan was as much observer as participant, but her voice was radiant. Roderick Williams’ Christ was sonorous but never overbearing, while Brendan Gunnell rose to the challenge of Judas’s contradictory character, flinging out his top notes like a man possessed.