As we prepare to close out the Grant Park Music Festival season with Verdi’s spectacular Requiem, I’d like to share some of my thoughts on this majestic work and on this particular interpretation, which will be given this weekend, August 19-20, 2011 with Carlos Kalmar conducting.
The Verdi Requiem is, in my experience, one of the most frightening. As several scholars have pointed out, it seems to be an agnostic’s Requiem, pervaded throughout by fear of death rather than joy of heaven. Musically this is most obvious in the relentless statements of the Dies Irae, and its unforgiving reprise during the final Libera Me. The finale concludes not with a beautiful ascent to heaven but with a whimpered plea to be freed from eternal death.
But plenty of other sources exist to delve into the spiritual meanings and musical structure of the work. Instead, I’d like to offer a performer’s perspective on tomorrow’s performance, written after the first orchestra rehearsal this morning. Despite the piece’s rather strenuous vocal demands–for reference I sing tenor in the chorus–the Requiem is one of the few works that always leaves me ready for more after the final cutoff. A combination of Verdi’s masterful writing for voice, his intelligent pacing with frequent rests for the weary, and the sheer adrenaline generated in the final Libera Me fugue makes this work a joy to sing. The grand moments are truly grand, but rarely screamed, the quiet parts are hushed but don’t require scratchiness or extended singing “off the voice” as Mahler sometimes does. The language might as well be Italian. The writing is difficult but never awkward. All these elements combine to let the singers freely express the emotions inherent in the work, unhampered by the technical impossibilities which are unfortunately the norm for much of the symphony chorus repertoire.
Having sung with the CSO during our Grammy-winning take on this work with Riccardo Muti, it is interesting to compare Kalmar’s and Muti’s interpretations. I was first struck by the similarities of their vision. Both focused a great deal of energy in rehearsals on finding the right balance between “opera” and “church”–in many cases explicitly contradicting themselves. In the end, the operatic moments, such as the hissed “quantus tremor est futurus” during the Dies Irae must still be sung, while the more sacred moments, such as the unison “agnus dei” chorus, must remain well supported, resonant, and emotionally expressive. So it is no wonder that the same conductor can say “this is not opera, it’s a prayer” in one breath and “this is opera!” in the next.
Kalmar’s interpretation seems to favor his Uruguayan over his Austrian heritage, which in my view is as it should be. The piece is Italian through and through, and requires Italian use of portamento, Italian roundness of tone, Italian legato, and a healthy Italian skepticism of the metronome. Compared with Muti’s interpretation, tomorrow’s concert promises to be slower in pacing, especially in the cantabile moments such as the Lacrimosa, but also in the Sanctus double fugue. While I’m sure many in the audience will latch onto the tempi of Kalmar’s reading as a point of discussion, perhaps contention, I feel both takes are valid.
The four soloists are somewhat different in temperament and voice type than the four heard on the Muti recording. I was impressed by the rich colors and technical solidity in this morning’s rehearsal and am looking forward to hearing them give their all this weekend. The soprano is Ryan Opera Center alum and local favorite Amber Wagner. The Iowa-born baritone, Kyle Ketelsen, has been heard frequently in Chicago lately and with good reason. The mezzo-soprano Michaela Martens has a rich voice which will be a pleasure to hear in the Lacrimosa, and tenor Michael Fabiano showed thrilling tone especially in the Kyrie quartet this morning.
I have frequently told my colleagues that I would gladly sing this work every day for the rest of my life, so I’m really looking forward to this weekend’s run. In the end, I think the important thing is not what Kalmar does differently from Muti, and how the GPMF orchestra and chorus compare to the CSO (after all, many are members of both!) but rather that some of Verdi’s brilliance be exposed–no single performance can illuminate all of the genius behind this score, and the more frequently we can sing and hear it the better.