Brahms, A German Requiem: Marlis Petersen (soprano), Markus Werba (baritone), Cantillation (chorus), Sydney Symphony, Gianluigi Gelmetti (conductor), Sydney Opera House Concert Hall, Sydney, 15.02.2007 (TP)

 

 

There was a palpable sense of occasion on the opening night of the Sydney Symphony's 2007 subscription season and complimentary champagne was served to concertgoers as they arrived.  An increased security presence betokened the presence of a number of dignitaries, including her Excellency the President of the Republic of Finland Tarja Halonen and her husband Dr Pentti Arajärvi, the Italian Ambassador to Australia and Senator the Hon. George Brandis SC, Federal Minister for the Arts and Sport.  Yes, the Arts and Sport.  This is Australia, after all.

 

There was more to the occasion than just the opening of another season, though.  The Sydney Symphony turns 75 this year and, at the end of 2008, bids farewell to its current Chief Conductor and Artistic Director, Gianluigi Gelmetti. 

 

Brahms' German Requiem may seem an odd choice to raise the curtain for such a momentous season, with little about it that could be described as celebratory fanfare.  The timing, however, made this piece seem appropriate.  Written by the composer in his 30s, the German Requiem marks a coming of age for Brahms, his first major success with orchestral forces before his four symphonies.  At 75, the Sydney Symphony is still a young orchestra, and this birthday marks its own coming of age.  In a year of anniversary and farewells, the German Requiem is at once valedictory in atmosphere, and reflective, as it also looks back in time beyond the classical era to the music of the Baroque.

 

All of this occasion and significance can be daunting, but the Sydney Symphony was unphased.  Their performance of the German Requiem was mature and satisfying. 

 

Gelmetti prides himself on his understanding of the core German repertoire and was certainly in his element on the podium.  Conducting without a baton, he shaped and sustained the music's long lines with care.  He was also mindful of the need to maintain a firm pulse, right from the cello and double bass crotchets in the opening bar.  His control and clarity in the fugal sections of the music (at the ends of the third and sixth movements especially) was excellent.  He did indulge in unmarked ritardandos at the end of each movement, and especially at the end of the last two movements, but in the moment it felt right.

 

Tempi are often problematic in this piece, as each of the seven movements is given a slowish tempo marking.  Many performances, even when shaped with care, emphasise  the music's grandeur to the point of lugubriousness, sapping the music of its momentum and turning Brahms' inspiration into boredom.  That did not happen here.  Gelmetti's tempi felt just right in each of the seven movements.  Though a disciple of Celibadache, Gelmetti's tempi were closer to those of Klemperer in his famous recording, but Gelmetti's interpretation was intimate rather than monumental.  This was a performance of warmth and consolation.

 

The Sydney Symphony gave Gelmetti everything he asked for. The strings exhaled a rich, warm tone and the horns and brass a plummy resonance.  Diana Doherty brought poignancy to her numerous oboe solo lines.  The opera house organ was sensed rather than heard. 

 

As wonderful as the orchestra was, though, the success of any performance of the German Requiem depends to a great extent on the quality of the chorus.  Cantillation was magnificent.  Their diction was near perfect, with only an occasional entry not being perfectly together.  Their dynamic control, so important in this piece, was exemplary, as was the balancing and blending of parts.  They negotiated the fugal passages with ease, and brought real passion to the stoic second movement and the vivace section of the sixth movement (Denn es wird die Posaune schallen/For the trumpet shall sound), which is the equivalent of a Dies Irae in this non-liturgical cantata.

 

The young baritone soloist,  Markus Werba, showed promise in his solo turns.  Sporting a haircut not unlike the one Brahms had in his 30s, Werba declaimed his part with an evangelical fervour.  Though his first entry lacked a little in confidence, he quickly improved and sang with attention to the text and its meaning.  His voice was lyrical, rather than broad and resonant, and I for one would have preferred more vocal heft, but his is an attractive voice and one to listen out for.  I get the impression that he would be in his element in Schubert Lieder.

 

The German soprano, Marlis Petersen, who like Werba was making her Sydney debut,  sang her solo in the fifth movement well and with clarity, but she did not bring to the text the sense of angelic comfort that can make this movement so magical.

 

There were many highlights in this performance.  The first movement, from its first notes, set the tone for this performance and Cantillation's delivery of the moving, consolatory text was perfectly matched by the Sydney Symphony.  The sudden crescendo into the ruggedly stoic statement “Denn alles Fleisch, es ist wie Gras” was the thunderous centre of a dramatic second movement, which shifted in mood constantly.  The passages in the sixth movement which set the text “Tod, wo ist dein Sieg...” took us through emotions from questioning, to stoic defiance, increasing doubt and tension, and finally to victory and release.

 

As we left the concert hall at the end of the evening, tiny birthday cupcakes were distributed at the doors, and we stepped out into the harbour breeze with a sweet taste in our mouths and sweet music still ringing in our ears.

 

 

Tim Perry