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Cheered to the rafters at its 1842 premiere, Rossini’s Stabat Mater has held its place in the repertoire ever since. Its nonchalant bel canto tunefulness, however, has attracted its fair share of detractors. True, the famous tenor aria Cujus Animam Gementem, which skips along like a Neapolitan street song, is an unusual setting for lyrics like “Her spirit groaning, saddened and grieving, a sword has pierced”. Yet Rossini writes with sincerity and, especially in the daringly unaccompanied choral sections, considerable power.
Nil Venditti was equally fervent. Her briskly animated account with the BBC Symphony Orchestra embraced the work’s lyricism while mining the score for theatrical nuggets in a pacy reading that favoured lithe-limbed drama over heavyweight grandeur. The BBC Symphony Chorus, bolstered by London’s semi-professional Epiphoni Consort, went with her cheek by jowl in a robust and disciplined performance, their crisp consonants landing with pinpoint precision.
An all-Italian lineup of soloists was headed by Federica Lombardi, whose pearly soprano did spirited battle with gleaming brass and driving timpani in the Inflammatus. Mezzo-soprano Chiara Amarù displayed a warm middle register, though she appeared over-reliant on the score. Nicola Ulivieri lent sombre vocal heft to the Pro Peccatis Suae Gentis, while Dave Monaco, a last-minute stand-in for an ailing René Barbera, sang with gleaming tone and absolutely nailed the top D-flat in the Cujus Animam Gementem.
If the first half of the programme felt less inspired, it was more the fault of the music than the performers. Respighi’s Church Windows, here making its Proms premiere, is a pale shadow of his Roman Trilogy heard earlier in the season. It has its colourful moments but the melodies, drawn mostly from Gregorian chant, fail to make much of a mark. Venditti gave it her best, the performance effective enough in the opening Flight into Egypt with its Scheherazade-like scales on clarinet and flute. St Michael the Archangel offered plenty of sound and fury though ultimately rang hollow. It was left to the Byzantine glitter of St Gregory the Great to save the day, its papal pomp turbocharged with tolling gongs and thunderous organ.
