It’s always worth braving the elements to hear Verdi’s Requiem Mass, a score that is equally elemental and multifaceted. The work’s accessibility and its many emotional moods brings out the best in any chorus and orchestra.
On Friday night, this masterpiece proved itself again, drawing a large crowd to the Paramount Theatre for the Oakland East Bay Symphony’s performance, despite the unfriendly weather. Conductor Michael Morgan, an experienced and stylish Verdian, did not disappoint, hurling his forces at the score’s big moments with ferocious energy. Parts of the performance were too hurried and pushed, with not enough made of the calm, luminous sections of the work, but this was still a satisfying, full-blooded rendition that enveloped and included the audience.
Michael Morgan
The beginning of the performance was delayed by the loud complaints of a disoriented elderly man, whose companion could not convince him to modulate his voice. Despite the younger man’s best efforts, his older charge had to be asked to leave the auditorium, a stark reminder to the rest of us of the long, uncomfortable passage that often leads us out of this world. Then came the comedy: Morgan had to stop the opening movement a second time because of what sounded like a clashing of pots and pans behind the stage. This Marx-Brothers-inspired moment caused Morgan to turn to his audience with a quizzical look, drawing laughs.
Lynne Morrow
Photo by Nicholas Chase
When the music got underway at last, the concentration of the musicians and audience members was palpable, as they endeavored to put the distractions behind them and enter the landscape of the bare, hushed, opening measures. These began well, with the orchestra summoning muted colors and soft dynamics, while Lynne Morrow’s well-trained chorus chanted sepulchrally.
The high point of the performance came soon after, in the explosive, bombastic, opening of the Dies irae, to which the Requiem and Kyrie movement is really an introduction. The orchestra squeezed every ounce of emotion from this music. On the podium, Morgan was exceptionally dramatic, but in control, and the chorus — the men straining to maximize volume — was on the money, with crisp, well-projected elocution cutting through the Judgment Day trumpets.
A Tricky Balancing Act
But the tension and vivid drama of the early parts of the Requiem have to be balanced by lyricism and consolation as when, for example, the solo soprano shines a ray of light on the Offertory, unforgettably announcing the appearance of the archangel Michael, while the violins sing sweetly in their upper register. While the Symphony didn’t mishandle these sections, neither did it make the most of them. The strings didn’t have enough bloom in some sections, such as the Salve me fons pietatis (save me, fount of pity), and the Lachrymosa. The brass, which had such marvelous bite and rawness in the Dies irae, lacked warmth and beauty when called to offer support to the singers.
Sometimes Morgan failed to relax the tempo or at least adjust it with rubato. The Lachrymosa was a shade too driven, and it would have been nice to have an articulation, a more genuinely largo tempo, and a more finely graded pianissimo, just where the women choristers offer us a first glimpse of heaven (Huic ergo parce Deus — "Spare him, then, O Lord”).
The soloists, for the most part, did a credible job. Soprano Jonita Lattimore was particularly dramatic and convincing in the Libera me movement, but at other times her midrange seemed unfocused. She has a really dramatic soprano, with a shining, steely top, though she scoops high notes. Mezzo-soprano Patrice Houston sang with beautiful attention to the words, and blended nicely with Lattimore in the Recordare. As she finished declaiming the passage about the Book of Judgment (Liber scriptus), she searched the auditorium with her eyes, brilliantly turning the last, repeated words into a question. She was solid throughout and reached a high point in the Lux aeterna movement.
Tenor Dan Snyder was capable of reaching the notes in full voice, but he has an unpleasant edge to his tone, and he seems incapable of modulating his dynamics. He paid little or no attention to the words he was singing. Bass Kirk Eichelberger was good as gold. Some may prefer a more cavernous bass voice in this part, but Eichelberger’s singing was authoritative.
Morgan understands that there is a point to the Requiem that goes beyond the operatic aspects, that it is a public celebration of lives that have made a difference in our own — and this airing came only a few days after the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday. In his brief introduction, Morgan invited the audience members to personalize the performance by adding their own dedicatees to the remembrance book in the lobby. When I walked past, there were already pages of names, with more being added. There aren’t many works of art out there that reliably draw this kind of response, and the Requiem deserves pride of place beside Beethoven’s Ninth, among those that do. And the Oakland-East Bay Symphony did itself proud with their performance of the work.
Michael Zwiebach is the senior editor/content manager for SFCV. He assigns all articles and content, manages the writing staff, and does editing. A member of SFCV from the beginning, Michael holds a Ph.D. in music history from the University of California, Berkeley.
