When:
June 11 & 12
Where:
Arts Centre Melbourne, Hamer Hall
Written
by: Frederick Septimus Kelly (Elegy), Benjamin Britten (Requiem)
Conducted
by: Sir Andrew Davis
Performers: Ian Bostridge, Dietrich Henschel, Tatiana Pavlovskaya,
Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, Melbourne Symphony Orchestra Chorus, and National
Boys Choir of Australia.
The Melbourne Symphony Orchestra (MSO) always
programme relevant and exciting concerts for Melbournians, and Britten’s War Requiem is up there with the best of
their programming. In recognition of the
ANZAC celebrations that dominate 2015, War Requiem is a timely reminder that
there is no glory in war.
Filling the Hamer Hall stage with two
orchestras, a full male and female
chorus, and having the Boys Choir up in the grand circle – so very
appropriately (for this piece at least) known as ‘up in the god’s’ – the MSO
have undertaken a massive event so appropriate for the task it has been
set. Rarely will you see such a large
conglomeration of double basses and percussion on one stage.
Ironically, the evening begins with the very gentle and mournful piece Elegy for String Orchestra ‘In Memorium
Rupert Brooke’ composed by Australian soldier Frederick Septimus Kelly. I
cannot explain the breathtaking awe that stirs the soul as you see more than a
dozen violins being bowed at exactly the same time to emit a single note out of
the silence.
Elegy is a literary term for a mournful poem
and is usually a lament for the dead. Kelly
composed this musical elegy in his mind at the burial of Brooke as the troops
prepared for the Gallipoli landing in 1915, although it was not committed to
paper until he was recuperating from injury a few months later. The music is gentle as it reminds us of his
intention for passionate simplicity, echoing the sounds of rustling leaves in
the olive trees of Greece, where the body was laid to rest.
After the elegy is complete the soloists for
the War Requiem enter the stage. First
enter Henschel (baritone) and Bostridge (tenor) who make their way to sit to
the right of Sir Davis. Then we see
Pavlovskaya make her way to the back, sitting near the percussion and male
chorus. At first I thought this was
slightly odd, but once the singing begins it becomes clear.
Pavlovskaya has a glorious voice – rich and
powerful enough to reach the heavens and then keep going. Nothing in the orchestra can touch her. Henschel and Bostridge, whilst both vocally
amazing, are just not powerful enough as vocalists to keep up with her.
One of the important roles of the conductor
is to balance the power of the various musical elements in order to create a
blend which is musical, meaningful, and clear.
Sir Davis managed the vast array of elements with such a deft and skilful
touch, it was almost as entrancing watching him as it was watching the
performers. The slightest tweak of a
finger and his commands were responded to with perfect precision. Under his guidance there was a full
orchestra, a chamber orchestra, an organ, a full chorus, a boys choir, and
three vocal soloists, yet he even managed to hold the audience applause at the
end until it was the perfect and appropriate time (Britten did not actually
want applause at the end of the piece).
Britten was commissioned to compose War
Requiem to be performed at the consecration of the new Coventry Cathedral in
1962. The original building, constructed
in the 13th century, had been destroyed during WWII.
This was an interesting time for
Britten. He had recently returned from
travels in Asia and was beginning to explore different ways of creating his
music. Beginning his career with a very
traditional approach, Britten was keen to deconstruct the classical form. For example, his church parable Curlew River had been influenced by Noh
theatre.
Britten was a pacifist so he did not want to
glorify the war that had destroyed this magnificent building and taken so many
lives. With that in mind he chose to use
nine poems from the WWI poet Wilfred Owen, himself a man who began his career
as a romantic but moved into experimental forms such as pararhyme, which we
encounter in the ‘Libera Me’.
Britten sticks to the form of a requiem, with
the work consisting of ‘Requiem Aeternam’, ‘Dies Irae’, ‘Offertorium’,
‘Sanctus’, ‘Agnus Dei’, and finishing with the ‘Libera Me’. The boys choir – placed so far away – come to
us like the sound of angels, accompanied by the organ. These voices are meant to represent the
heavenly. The chorus, the soprano and
the full orchestra work together to represent the celebration of the mass on
earth, whilst the baritone, tenor and chamber orchestra are the soldiers.
The male soloists and the chamber orchestra
sing the poetry of Owen in English. All
of the rest is sung by the others in Latin. As is appropriate for a mass, the
audience are given the ‘missal’ in the programme to follow as the music
progresses.
It is impossible to fault the musicianship of
the Orchestra, and I have already gushed about Sir Davis. The voices of the boys choir really did float
down over us like a heavenly chorus of angels.
It is strange to say this was a beautiful
concert, because musically it is not really.
It is not ‘melodic’ in a tuneful way.
Britten fills it full of unresolved chords and interrupted
sequences.
The ‘Dies Irae’ is a stunning composition
which elicits all the energy and falls eagerness at the beginning of battle,
only to resolve into a mire of despair and sadness as it goes on and on and
Death becomes one of the brothers in arms. This was, perhaps, the one time Sir
Davis couldn’t keep the orchestra under the male soloists voices, but this did
not bother me as the music clearly stated the intention of the moment.
The ‘Offertorium’ is a sad but lovely respite
as the male soloists have a conversation, reciting Owen’s ‘The Parable of the
Old Man and the Young’. It is the story
of Abraham’s offering of his son as sacrifice to God. It is eerily offset by the boys asking God to
‘deliver the souls of all the faithful departed…’
The final movement in the composition,
‘Libera Me’ is a triumph. It begins with
drums – uneven and bedraggled – the chorus keep repeating “ignum” (fire) and a
whip is heard each time. The Owen poem
is ‘Strange Meeting’ and is one of his triumphs of pararhyme which involves
retaining the consonants structure, but changing the vowel sounds. The strangeness of the rhyme is coupled with
odd plosive vocalisation by the tenor to make us all uncomfortable and eager
for it to stop – just like war.
The music ends with great sorrow and delicacy. Sir Davis holds the chorus on the final
“amen” for longer than seems humanly possible.
Even when the voices are silent, Davis doesn’t relax so that we, the
audience sit in the fullness of the silence after such a journey. It is a long time before he releases us by
relaxing, and then the cacophonous applause began.
The concert was a masterpiece. It was live streamed by the ABC, and if you
are lucky they will rebroadcast it so you can experience it for
yourselves. Britten is not for everyone,
but the reasons behind that are what make him a composer so relevant to today.
4 Stars
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