Johann Sebastian Bach's jaw might drop upon hearing his "St. John Passion" as performed by Apollo's Fire, the Cleveland Baroque Orchestra. Music director Jeannette Sorrell, her period-instrument ensemble, chorus and guests go well beyond the realm of sacred oratorio. Their exultant performance approaches musical theater.
Sorrell's account of "St. John Passion" on Saturday at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Cleveland Heights revealed the distance the conductor and company have come since first presenting the work a decade ago. As the years and performances have passed, the interpretation's intensity has grown to gripping proportions.
Sorrell shapes the score as a boldly fervent and elastic narrative in which interaction, reaction and reflection are placed in vivid balance. Her decision to perform the oratorio in English has always brought the events closer to the audience. But the artists she has amassed this year go the extra musical mile to become characters in a communal reading that explores the work's many levels.
First, there is the storytelling, most supplied by the Evangelist. Ian Honeyman is explosively eloquent in the role. He addresses the audience directly, often to the point of dramatic hysteria -- as the tale requires -- but also with melting tenderness. Few tenors sing the part with such riveting conviction.
Other singers play out the drama and probe their characters' feelings. Baritone Jeffrey Strauss depicts a Jesus of forceful nobility, his voice warm and firm, his declamation sure. Thomas Meglioranza uses his elegant bass to create a sympathetic portrait of Pilate.
The remaining vocal soloists excel in arias and ariosos that help define the oratorio's emotional profile: soprano Jolle Greenleaf, pure and refined; alto Kirsten Sollek, with a voice of penetrating expressiveness; and tenor Marc Molomot, who brings dramatic zeal and subtlety to arias that could disappear without sufficient artistic commitment.
Much of the greatest writing in "St. John Passion" is assigned to the chorus, which acts both as crowd and sacred conscience. The two dozen or so members of Apollo's Singers, the orchestra's remarkable chorus, often address one another or the characters.
In several chorales, Sorrell has the brilliant idea of dropping the instrumental accompaniment and allowing the choristers to shape lines in a cappella splendor. The moment near the end when the lights dim and the chorus sings the first half of the final chorale alone is magical.
Sorrell, leading the work from an organ console, draws supremely lucid, alert playing from her instrumentalists, many of whom step forth to serve as distinguished soloists in arias or continuo passages. Given the imagination and ardor of the interpretation, it's no wonder Bach might be happily startled.
The final performance is at 7:30 tonight at St. Paul's, 2747 Fairmount Blvd. For tickets, call 216-320-0012.