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I'm
not sure if many audiences can remember the first time the Berg
was performed (back in 1987, by Pierre Amoyal in a concert which
also included the Saint-Saëns Organ Symphony) and then
again in 1992, with Regis Pasquier. Mozart's magnum opus
goes back even further - all the way back to the first anniversary
of the Singapore Symphony Chorus in 1981.
This
is, you know, actually quite an intriguing evening's offering; last
week's conductor Christoph Poppen did remark that he was impressed
at the SSO's ambition and sagacity for thematic programming from
the two Viennese schools. The legend surrounding Mozart's Requiem
is too well-known to bear repeating here - but perhaps less well-known
is also that Berg's Violin Concerto was also his last
completed work. Ostensibly, Berg suffered a bee sting, which developed
into an abscess, which developed into an infection, which eventually
killed him. The Concerto thus was as much his unwitting personal
requiem, as much as it was dedicated to Manon Gropius.
The
Berg Concerto, much like Schoenberg's Verklarte Nacht,
serves as an excellent point of entry into the twelve-tone atonalism
of the Second Viennese School. It is at the same time contemporary,
yet accessible, without the craggy dissonant imbroglios of the ultra-fanatical
Schoenberg (Berg's teacher): where Berg built his twelve notes of
atonality on overlapping triadic relationships, Schoenberg went
out of his way to produce aural sandpaper. The orchestra, for one,
delivered the Berg more fluently than Schoenberg from the previous
fortnight.
As
concertos go, the Berg comes with a fiendishly difficult soloist's
part, which SSO alumnus Chang Yoong-Han tackled with outstanding
technique, and then some. From his approach in the opening Andante,
it was clear that Chan was the sort of musician which played not
just from the heart, but also from the mind as well; lyrical, yet
robust. The orchestral accompaniment under Lim was always sympathetic,
if dynamically uninmaginative, with the brass timbres, seated three
choir rows from the back of the stage, sounding much less harsher
than usual.
The
second movement got off with an almighty bang. Chan launched himself
into the epistolatory cadenza with much unction, supported ably
by the orchestra. Individual instrumental detail was exemplary,
from the harp to the kettledrums, and everyone in between. However,
in the ensemble playing, there was something left to be desired,
lacking unity in attack and clarity in phrasing. The woodwinds giving
the Bach chorale theme were fairly natty in dialogue with the strings,
with perhaps a hint of circumspection on the part of the violins.
But
generally, the playing was unimpressive, poor attention to ensemble
detail being the main culprit. It was left to Chan who brought the
work home with some dispatch. Yet, it was uncharacteristically noteworthy
that for the space of a handful of seconds after the music ended
- soloist's bow poised over the violin, conductor's baton still
raised - nobody in the audience dared breathe, let alone start the
applause. When it started, Chan was accorded five curtain calls
but did not, alas, play an encore.
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The
Requiem
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Requiem Mass, as it appears today, did not take its form
until quite late - by which we mean before the end of the 10th
century. This special day for the commemoration of the departed,
November 2nd (All Souls' Day), was only first insituted by St
Odo, the Abbot of Cluny in 998.
By
the arrival of the 13th century, this commemorative day was
ubiquitously observed, when the doctrine of Purgatory, as
taught by St Thomas Aquinas and other theologians (and foreshadowed
as far back as the 3rd century) was universally accepted and
Massses for the dead became a regular feature of parish life.
The Mass of the Dead itself, as incepted from the Roman Missal
promulgated by Pope Pius V in 1570 by decree of the Council
of Trent, comes from a Franco-Gallican origin.
The
Requiem aeternam section of the Mass comes from portions
of the Apocrypha and the book of Psalms. Dies Irae
did not appear in the Mass until the 14th century, and even
then not universally. Even the authorship is disputed: possibly
Thomas of Celano (1200-55), inspired by the Absolution following
Mass (from the Libera me). There is an instance of
poetry in the Rex tremendae when Christ is referred
to as both King of awesome majesty and then a fount of piety.
The
Offertorium is theologically even more amiss, possibly
coming from a Coptic rite where reference to St Michael weighing
the merits of the dead finds a parallel in Egyptian iconographical
art, where Anubis weighs human hearts against a feather. Interestingly,
the word Sabaoth does not refer to the Jewish holy
day of Sabbath, but refers to a Hebrew word meaning "armies".
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The
Singapore Symphony Chorus took to the stage for Mozart's Requiem
after the intermission. Curiously, the libretto in the programme
book used archaic translations, rather than the more common prose
rendition these days, of the Latin Vulgate text:
Day
of wrath and doom impending, David's word with Sibyl's blending
! Heaven and earth in ashes ending ! Oh, what fear man's bosom rendeth,
When from heaven the judge descendeth, On whose sentence all dependeth
!
Mention
should also be made of the Requiem programme notes: in the
whole, they were passable but descriptions of individual movements
could have (with some editorial forethought) been interspersed within
the libretto at the head of each individual section, instead of
being unhelpfully lumped together as a series of postscripted one-liner
paragraphs after the main body of text. It sure would have been
made the sung text easier to follow. The typos in the text itself
were, at best, plain careless.
As
for the music itself, the opening pulsation of the Introit
lacked gravity in the choral supplication for "eternal light" and
"perpetual rest". Miwako Handa's soprano cameo, however, revealed
a bright and silvery individual sheen, soaring easily above the
belaboured choir. The following Kyrie, with its fugal exchange,
and Dies Irae were suprisingly well done: the volume was
excellently balanced (for a chorus of this size). The orchestra
was sawing away like mad, but really there was no competion against
the voices. The only hitch was a hint of untidiness in the excessively
sibilant sopranos.
The
instrumental shakiness continued well into the solo trombone in
the Tuba mirum, which was unsure and lacked the authority
of an apocalyptic sound one might expect to hear on the Day of Judgement.
The four soloists blended quite wonderfully, but individually some
things were left to be desired. Bass-baritone William Lim was too
soft, and tenor Lemuel dela Cruz's youthful timbre was made to sound
strained rather too often. It was largely left to Kathryn Turpin's
dusky mezzo and Handa's quicksilver soprano which carried the section,
here as well as in the Recordare to follow.
Rex
tremendae showed some good chorus dynamics, but the orchestra
seemed a tad unresponsive. In the Juste judex ultionis soli,
dela Cruz seemed to be straining at a leash, while the ladies, as
before, were content to remain much in meditative vein and crafted
their high-registered phrasing, like a roof over which everyone
else lived, superbly. Bass-baritone Lim was all but inaudible.
The
Confutatis threw up more of the same. Orchestra playing tended
to be untidy at times, but Lim Yau did a good job in the Lacrimosa.
The Offertorium was surprisingly remarkable, with well-crafted
musical imagery. The chorus injected much lyricism into the Hostias
and Sanctus; only the recapitulation of Quam olim Abrahae
lacked ferocity of the first iteration. By the Agnus Dei,
it seemd that the chorus had begun to wane and was tired-sounding.
A hint of uncharacteristic untidiness, which lasted all the way
into the Lux aeterna, could be discerned.
At
the end, it seemed that the quality and invention of Mozart's writing
(neé Süssmayr & Co) saved the day in a performance which
was largely characterized by inconsistency: blindingly good at times,
and then embarassingly amateurish at others. A rewarding programme
on the night, but hardly a classic performance.
WILLIAM
BEH is still waiting, among other things, for a Bruckner
cycle.
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