George Bernard Shaw was wrong
by berberis on Apr.12, 2009, under Choir, Concerts, LPC, Rehearsals
Saturday, 4th April 2009, Royal Festival Hall.
“Brahms’s Ein Deutsches Requiem should be mandatory for anyone (and there are many) who has ever uttered a disparaging or ill-considered word against its composer. Under the conspicuously talented Yannick Nezet-Seguin, it shone, it thundered, it inspired all-enveloping awe and consolation. With sensitive, articulate singing from the London Philharmonic Choir, the fine balance between the work’s deep compassion and its death-defying exultation was memorably achieved.
Awe was duly forthcoming as the mighty cortege of “Denn alles Fleisch, es ist wie Gras” rolled out, low horns and pounding timpani accentuating its black splendour, and those fugal codas were properly rollocking, hopeful affairs – blasts from the past powering towards the future…”
Edward Seckerson The Independent
“… it was the London Philharmonic Choir that really took the honours, singing with incredible involvement, responsiveness and variety of tonal range, producing walls of pianissimos that almost dipped out of audibility, and closing with the most comforting ‘Blessed are the dead’ I have heard.”
Peter Reed www.classicalsource.com
“After the interval we were treated to the most moving, reverential, illuminating and ultimately uplifting performance of Brahms’ Ein Deutsches Requiem I’ve ever heard, either in the concert hall or on CD…
From the hushed introspection of the opening… it was evident that this was going to be a remarkable performance… confirmed when the LPO Choir entered singing ‘Selig sind, die da Lied tragen’… on barely a thread of tone. Throughout the evening they never put a foot wrong, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard such glorious choral singing, whether at full throttle in ‘Denn alles Fleisch, es ist wie Gras’… or in the quiet valedictory hymn ‘Selig sind die Toten’… which concludes the work. Quite astounding, and they and their superb director Neville Creed were rightly awarded a thunderous ovation at the end.
…The seemingly endless silence at the close, with no one daring to applaud, was indicative of the profound and stirring effect this performance had had on its listeners. All in all a performance that no one present will forget in a hurry and a reminder, if one needed reminding, that this is probably Brahms’ greatest achievement.”
Keith McDonnell www.musicomh.com
“It’s fashionable to argue that… [Brahms’s German Requiem] works best done swiftly and on a small-scale. This, however, was big, slow and overwhelming. The choral singing was wonderfully intense, and soloists Elizabeth Watts and Stephane Degout were both outstanding. The long silence at its close, which no one dared fracture with applause, was testament to its impact.”
Tim Ashley The Guardian
“It’s an extraordinary interpretation: for one thing, at least in the first two movements, it must be the slowest account I’ve ever heard…Yet, to be fair, the effect is neither glacial nor too ponderous, but a passionate interpretation of burning sincerity, distinguished by superbly-sustained choral singing and orchestral playing.”
BBC Music Magazine, June 2010 ****
“I found so many things to enjoy about this recording…The live-ness, for one…the Royal Festival Hall has somewhat miraculously gained ambience, or at least atmosphere, probably thanks to the tension carefully sustained by the interpretation, and more particularly by the performers.”
Gramophone Magazine, August 2010
In 2007, having been with Lewisham Choral Society for three years, I was looking for more vocal challenges. Sue, a soprano I’d invited to join LCS, returned the favour and invited me along to a rehearsal with Eltham Choral Society, who were just about to begin preparing for a performance of Brahms’ Requiem. ECS was a smaller choir than LCS, but boasted at least one professional singer. However, pressures of work, as well as Real Life, intruded, and it soon became clear that I wasn’t going to be able to attend enough rehearsals to learn the piece to performance standard. So I had to abandon ECS, and Brahms, and my unmarked score gathered dust on the bookshelf.
But the seed had been planted and, over time, my desire to sing this piece grew seemingly out of all proportion to the two movements I’d sung with ECS. I wasn’t going to get the opportunity with LCS, so I resigned myself to listening to recordings. Finally, after more than a year, the chance finally came to see it performed by the Philharmonia Voices and Chorus at the Royal Festival Hall on June 28th last year.
By the end of the concert — to be honest, by the end of the 3rd movement — I had decided to grasp the nettle and audition for the London Philharmonic Choir. I’d prevaricated for long enough. I would be on that stage, singing that music. On 23rd July, Matthew ‘Maestro’ Rowe decided (despite my rubbish sight singing) that I was good enough. If I’d had any voice left, I’d’ve squealed.
When rehearsals for Brahms started in March I was bewitched all over again. There are parts of this Requiem that make my heart pound, my soul soar and my blood sing: those unmoved by the third movement ‘Der Gerechten Seelen sind in Gottes Hand, und keine Qual rühret sie an‘ (‘The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God and no more pain touches them now’) can only themselves be bereft of feeling.
The penultimate movement includes the furiously defiant ‘Tod, wo ist dein Stachel? Holle, wo ist dein Sieg?‘ (‘Death, where is thy victory? Hell, where is thy sting?’) which is one of the most emotionally uplifting pieces I’ve ever sung. In comparison, the final movement’s ‘Selig sind die Toten… das sie ruhen von ihrer Arbeit; denn ihre Werke folgen ihnen nach‘ (‘Blessed are the dead… they may rest now from all their labours.. their works shall follow after them’) is a sigh of utter relief in response.
It’s entirely likely that this piece resonated far more with me this time round because of my mum. She’d been diagnosed with breast cancer in 1976 and had been determined that it wouldn’t win. After it was declared in remission – I don’t remember the year – she set herself a new challenge: she would live to be 80. Sadly, she didn’t. She died on June 6th 2008, five months after being told she had terminal endometrial cancer.
One of the things I learned from her was that if you really want to do something, then do it. Ironically, one of her biggest regrets was that she had not. At the end of the performance, in that long silence, when we were all simply exhausted with the effort, I thought of mum. She had often said that she was not frightened of dying because she believed in a life after death, which would mean that she’d be reunited with her mother who’d died too young, her father, and her two sisters who’d both died as babies.
‘Der Gerechten Seelen sind in Gottes Hand, und keine Qual rühret sie an’ indeed. Clearly, George Bernard Shaw was at a different gig.
