Metastasio’s libretto here, first used by Caldara all but 20 years before Jommelli’s 1749 setting, does not recount the story of the Passion but instead focuses on two of the disciples, who with Joseph and Magdalen look back on the dreadful events, express their feelings of pain, shame and sorrow, and finally rejoice at the inspiration of Christ’s resurrection. The diversity of moods offered Jommelli scope for his abundant powers of invention and for his striking scoring, giving the orchestra a remarkably independent role and, as usual with him, entrusting to it a long introductory ritornello before each aria (always in da capo form): note-worthy also are his dramatic accompanied recitatives. But in some places there seem to be curious discrepancies between the sense of the words and the character of the music: for example, Magdalen’s first aria, in which she feels unable to voice her grief, is a chirpy aria in a major key, and her third, likening their lot to that of a ship without a pilot, is another cheerful affair. In fact, even the overture to the whole comes as a double surprise, first because it immediately makes one wonder whether its opening could have been at the back of Mozart’s mind when he wrote the Magic Flute overture (though Mozart was distinctly ungenerous about other composers, he had some admiration for Jommelli), and secondly because, despite the oratorio’s subject, it is mainly vivacious – especially as it has to lead into a scene of Peter racked with remorse.
This aria of Peter’s, with tremolando strings programmatically portraying his quivering heart, gives Jeffrey Francis, a likeable tenor with an attractively free production, a chance to sail up to an unbelievable high E; and he also has the most elaborate bravura aria just before the end of the work, with which he deals triumphantly. He and, to only a slightly less extent, Anke Herrmann steal the vocal honours, and they have the oratorio’s only duet; but Debora Beronesi shines in her aria expressing confidence in the Saviour’s return. Two vocal groups, together numbering only 30, bring a pleasantly fresh tone to their three short choruses (the first a fugato); and the orchestral playing throughout, with some excellent obbligatos, is admirably neat and pointed. Alessandro de Marchi paces the work convincingly.
There are only two blots on this otherwise recommendable issue: a blustery, rough-voiced baritone with a weak low register and none too careful placing of higher notes, and one of the worst, most wildly inaccurate English translations of a libretto I have ever seen – for which the remarkable speed with which this recording has been brought out (a mere three months after its performance in Palermo) is no excuse.'