Celebrations marked by inspiration

Boston Cecilia observed Donald Teeters's 40th anniversary as music director. (Globe photo/FILE 2001)

A program of musical bonbons should be saved for a real occasion, preferably a celebration. Sunday afternoon offered just such a gala moment in Donald Teeters's 40th anniversary as music director of the Boston Cecilia, as well as the 323d birthday (the preceding Saturday) of George Frideric Handel.

Over the decades, Teeters has piled up accomplishments as a champion of baroque music and period performance style. And as the afternoon proceeded at Jordan Hall, with highlights from Teeters's many Handel productions, nothing seemed to have been lost. Each piece, indeed, seemed to emerge from a magical preservative spell, all ready to go.

As anniversary parties go, it was a simple affair. (All the speeches etc. were presumably saved for a Symphony Hall reception after the concert.) Teeters almost had to be coaxed into a solo bow. The music-making was expected to speak for itself, and it paid its own high tribute to one of Boston's most generous musical lights.

The program was similar to a 1985 Cecilia potpourri, with choruses from Handel's "Solomon" framing solos (and one duet) from other operas and oratorios.

In a gesture that showed deep two-way loyalties, 13 fine soloists from earlier productions returned with their special offerings. Soprano Nancy Armstrong, who has sung 24 roles with Cecilia since 1978, returned with Semele's "Myself I shall adore" and sang it with delicious ease. It was an equally nice gesture that the first non-chorus piece was given to two young sopranos, both New England Conservatory students, appearing with this company for the first time - Holly Cameron and Lauren-Rose King. (They sang the early duet "No, di voi non vo'fidarmi.")

All but two or three of the soloists were in good form. One was inspired. This was Sharon Baker, a 16-role veteran, whose "Prophetic raptures swell my breast," from "Joseph and His Brothers," was so easy, honest, and unforced in expression it crossed over into the realm of the sublime. She taught the old lessons that less can be more and that the text should lead the melody.

The 50-voice chorus was confident, warm in tone, and entirely correct. It does not sing in the crisp way, with sharply edged phrases and cadences, that many European "period" choruses aim for, and that creates something of a discontinuity with the brighter period style of the Cecilia orchestra, which continually impressed with its discipline, expressive point, and finesse. (It played an orchestral interlude from "Solomon"; one would have liked more!)

The most undemonstrative of conductors, Teeters always set what seemed like just the right tempo and obviously inspired his musicians. There was a lot of love in the room.