Verdi was not a
religious man. Indeed, it is fair to say he was anti-clerical
and equally anti-Pope. Many Monarchists and Republicans held
the latter view in response to the activities of holders of
the Papal office over the period of the fight for Italy’s unification
and independence. Those matters being stated, Verdi equally
clearly recognised the place of the Catholic Church in the contemporary
society in which he lived and worked. When Rossini died in November
1868, and even before the Memorial Service had been held in
Paris, Verdi wrote to the Milan Gazzetta Musicale suggesting
that the musicians of Italy should unite to honour their great
compatriot by combining to write a Requiem for performance on
the anniversary of his death. No one would receive payment for
his contribution with volunteers to each write one section of
the Mass, being drawn by lot. After the performance, which Verdi
recognised would lack artistic unity; the score would be sealed
up in the Bologna Liceo Musico. The idea was enthusiastically
received and a committee set up to oversee the project. To Verdi,
pre-eminent among the names, fell the closing section, the Libera
Me. He had his composition ready in good time despite revising
La Forza del Destino along the way. Problems arose in
respect of the chorus and orchestra, for which Verdi, somewhat
unfairly, blamed his friend the conductor Mariani and the project
floundered. Verdi met the costs incurred.
In the year of Rossini’s
death, aided by arrangements connived at by his wife and long
time friend Clarina Maffei, Verdi visited his idol Alessandro
Manzoni. He had read Manzoni’s novel I Promessi Sposi
when aged sixteen and in his fifty-third year he wrote to a
friend, according to me, (he) has written not only the greatest
book of our time but one of the greatest books that ever came
out of the human brain. The novel has been described as
representing for Italians all of Scott, Dickens and Thackeray
rolled into one and infused with the spirit of Tolstoy. It was
not merely the nature of Manzoni’s partly historical story that
gave the work this ethos, but the language. With it Manzoni
made vital steps towards a national Italian language to replace
the proliferate dialects and foreign administrative languages
present in the peninsular. When Manzoni died in May 1873, after
a fall, Verdi was devastated to the extent he could not go to
the funeral for which the shops of Milan were closed, and the
streets lined with thousands. The King sent two Princes of the
Royal Blood to carry the flanking cords and who were aided by
the Presidents of the Senate and Chamber as well as the Ministers
of Education and Foreign Affairs. A week after the funeral Verdi
went to Milan and visited the grave alone. Then, through his
publisher, Ricordi, he proposed to the Mayor of Milan that he
should write a Requiem Mass to honour Manzoni to be performed
in Milan on the first anniversary of Manzoni’s death. There
would be no committee this time. Verdi proposed that he himself
would compose the entire Mass, pay the expenses of preparing
and printing the music, specify the church for the first performance,
choose the singers and chorus, rehearse them and conduct the
premiere; the city would pay the cost of the performance. Thereafter
the Requiem would belong to Verdi. The city accepted with alacrity.
With artistic unity
guaranteed by the single composer, Verdi intended the work to
have a regular place in the repertoire just like his operas
and other works. Although he had already composed a Libera
Me for the aborted Rossini Requiem, Verdi largely re-wrote
it, thus ensuring even greater compositional coherence than
might otherwise have been the case. Verdi selected the Church
of San Marco for the premiere, considering it to have the best
proportions and acoustics. On 22 May 1874, the first anniversary
of Manzoni’s death, with an orchestra of one hundred and a chorus
of one hundred and twenty it was given to acclaim. Three days
later Verdi conducted another performance at La Scala and which
was followed by two more conducted by Faccio. Argument raged
that Verdi, although using the ecclesiastical text, had not
written music suitable to the religious oeuvre. The work is
certainly not in the tradition of ecclesiastical works set to
counterpoint and fugues, a fact that at least some purists considered
did not distract the listener from the religious message. Despite
criticisms of this nature the Requiem travelled to Paris where
Verdi was made a Commander of the Legion of Honour. After Paris,
London and Vienna followed with the work acclaimed in each.
The Manzoni Requiem,
as the work is often called, has been referred to by some cynics
as Verdi’s best opera! After the reverential and ecclesiastical
style of the opening Requiem and Kyrie (CHs. 2-3) the
music varies between the beautifully lyric and the heavily dramatic
as in the Dies irae and Tuba mirum (CHs. 4-5).
At its premiere the soloists were renowned opera singers and
ever since, as here, it is conductors and singers with that
background who bring out its strengths, both spiritual and vocal.
Zubin Mehta on the rostrum, now aged seventy, has rediscovered
his operatic roots and empathy with excellent work in Germany
and at Florence’s annual festival. He brings these qualities
to his conducting here. His tight control of the reverential,
ever so soft, opening does not inhibit his letting his choral
and orchestral forces off the leash in the more dramatic outbursts.
The soloists match Mehta’s approach for commitment but their
varied vocal strengths do not always blend well. This is a particular
problem with the sometimes evident vibrato of the spinto soprano
of Fiorenza Cedolins when she is in duet with the creamy-toned
rock-solid mezzo of Luciana D’Intino as in the Recordare
in particular (CH. 9). D’Intino is a tower of strength in the
Liber scriptus (CH. 6) and in the quartets of the Domine
Jesu Christie and Hostias of the Offertorio
(CHs. 13-14). Ramon Vargas’s lyric tenor is in excellent focus
for the great Ingemisco (CH. 10) with graceful effortless
singing, which he also exhibits elsewhere in the piece. The
bass, Rafal Siwek, previously unknown to me, is most promising
and his tone and legato in the repeated Mors, mors stupebit
(CH. 3) is solid and tuneful. As yet his vocal production is
a little on the nasal side but he has a more natural enunciation
of the text than that of many rather glottal East Europeans;
a welcome addition to the basso cantante numbers I suggest.
I did worry how Fiorenza Cedolins would cope with the exposed
soprano singing in the concluding Requiem aeternam and
Libera me (CHs. 19-20), as I did not want my overall
enjoyment and satisfaction spoiled at the last hurdle. I need
not have worried, although not as steady as the big-voiced Leontyne
Price for Karajan she sings with feeling and varied colour.
There is no shortage
of DVD rivals in this music with Abbado’s name as conductor
featuring regularly. The orchestral and choral forces here may
not match those under him or Karajan with the orchestra and
chorus of La Scala, but they perform with discipline, professionalism
and commitment. It is always a particular pleasure to hear an
Italian chorus in this piece and the good sound balance is another
plus point for this recording.
This concert was
given on 30 January 2005. It was intended to be a benefit concert
as a mark of solidarity and humanitarian concern. It followed
the tragic events of the previous 26 December when many thousands
died in Indonesia, India and Sri Lanka after the Tsunami. All
the participants donated their fees.
Whilst correctly
recording details of the background to the composition, the
booklet essay massively and incorrectly states that His (Verdi’s)
work on the score seems to have left him so exhausted that for
the next ten years he wrote virtually nothing, until ‘Otello’
claimed his attention. So much for the major revisions of
Don Carlo in 1882-3. So much also for the reworking of
Simon Boccanegra, with its new, magnificent Council Chamber
scene and other revisions to Boito’s libretto which was premiered
at La Scala in 1881!
Robert J Farr