Runnicles and ASO deliver a warm, bounteous Brahms “Requiem” | EarRelevant

CONCERT REVIEW:

Atlanta Symphony Orchestra & Chorus
January 26 & 28, 2023
Atlanta Symphony Hall, Woodruff Arts Center
Atlanta, Georgia – USA
Sir Donald Runnicles, conductor; Ying Fang, soprano; Russell Braun, baritone.
Adolphus HAILSTORK: Epitaph for a Man Who Dreamed
Johannes BRAHMS: A German Requiem

Mark Gresham | 28 JAN 2023

On Thursday evening, principal guest conductor Sir Donald Runnicles led the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus in an intermissionless program featuring music by Johannes Brahms and American composer Adolphus Hailstork.

Although Hailstork’s 7-minute Epitaph for a Man who Dreamed was first on the program, we’ll begin here with that staple of the choral-orchestral repertoire, Brahms’ Ein deutsches Requiem (“A German Requiem”), not simply because it is the much larger and far better-known of the two but also because it might provide some insight into the choice of the other work as an introductory companion.

To do both of them justice, we must first look at the topic of requiems in general, and this one by Brahms in particular.

A traditional requiem is a mass given by the Roman Catholic Church in memory of the dead. It gets its name from the opening sentence, “Requiem aeternam Donna eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis,” which translates as, “Eternal rest give unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.”

As a liturgical rite, it has been sung in church at special masses or to accompany a funeral since the Middle Ages, when it was sung as plainchant. The earliest surviving polyphonic setting was composed by Johannes Ockeghem sometime in the late 15th century.

Beginning sometime in the 18th century, the music for requiem masses began to grow more dramatic in style and Romantic in instrumentation, most noticeably when written as a concert piece instead of as religious service music. In many ways, both the ordinary mass and the requiem mass have become for a chorus what symphonic form is for orchestras.

The Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, led by principal guest conductor Donald Runnicles, in the first movement fo Brahms’ “A German Requiem.” (credit: Rand Lines)

The significant departure from the religious tradition which separates Brahms’ Requiem from those of Mozart, Verdi, Berlioz, Fauré, and a host of others is that Brahms seems to be not as concerned with the eventual abode of the dearly departed as he is with the comfort of the living who remain.

To begin a Requiem not with “grant them eternal rest” but “blessed are they that mourn” is surely a matter of conscious nonconformity on the composer’s part. As for the title, we know that Brahms later wrote, “I will confess I would gladly have left out the word German and substituted Human.”

In his selection of texts, Brahms underscores the historical fact that humanism has been associated with Judeo-Christian traditions since at least the Renaissance, even though it is neither a word nor a philosophical outlook regarded with unbounded favor by religious professionals even today. The meaning of the term “humanism” has changed according to successive intellectual movements that have identified with it. Since the early 20th century, it has been essentially co-opted by secularists. Before that, Judeo-Christian religion and humanism were inseparable, which perhaps they should be. One could argue that this fusion represents both religion at its best and humanism at its best; at their respective worst, each can be remarkably inhuman.

Again, none of the seven movements of Brahms’ Requiem draw from the traditional requiem mass but are composed “to Words of Holy Scripture,” as indicated by the work’s complete formal title. These texts emphasize comfort, joy after tears, patience, the transience of life, and the endurance of God’s word.

Brahms sets in motion the human element, for the living who remain, with his opening text: “Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4) Divided violas and cellos weave a dark four-part texture above a pulsating pedal tone in the contrabasses and very lowest cellos, with sustained horns in the background for 14 bars. Then the chorus enters to sing a cadence. The ASO Chorus sang it in magnificently hushed tones: “Selig sind” (“Blessed are”), the first indication that the chorus part would go well, with Runnicles’ stamp on the necessary expressive qualities.

Runnicles’ take is not quite as sunny in parts as perhaps it could be — e.g., the faster “Etwas bewegter” middle section of the “Langsam, marschmässig” second movement (“So seid nun gedulgig” / “So therefore be patient”), and the ever-popular fourth movement (“Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen” / “How lovely is thy dwelling place”) which has long struck me as a nod to the composer’s admiration for the waltzes of Johann Strauss, Jr., imagining God’s “dwelling place” or tabernacle incorporating a 19th-century Viennese ballroom.

But making up for that is Runnicles’ warmly embracing approach, from a certain glow of lyrical sections to passages of exuberant joy in the second movement (“Die erlöseten des Herrn” / “The redeemed of the Lord”) and exhilarating energy of the sixth, which arrives explosively at “Denn es wird die Posaune schallen” (“For the trumpet will sound”) then triumphantly at “Tod, wo ist dein Stachel?” (“Death, where is thy sting?”) after which ensues the majestic fugue, “Herr, du bist würdig zu nehmen Preis und Ehre und Kraft” (“Lord, you are worthy to receive glory and honor and power”), ending that oenultimate movement with a final, powerful statement.

Baritone Russell Braun (credit: Rand Lines)

Baritone Russell Braun soloed in two movements: at “Herr, lehre doch mich” (“Lord, teach me to know”) in the third, and “Siehe, ich sag euch ein Gehimnis” (“Behold, I will tell you a secret”) in the sixth, which he delivered with agreeable vigor and power.

Soprano Ying Fang made her Atlanta debut in this performance. Albeit limited to the pivotal fifth movement, “Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit” (“You now have sadness”), she was impressive in her solo, both in voice and expression.

Soprano Ying Fang. (credit: Rand Lines)

Although the score provides some alternate notes that make it possible for a mezzo to sing, this is by all rights a true soprano solo, rising to a B♭ above the staff, and there are no genuine low notes: nothing below a first-space F. Fang’s lyrical, rounded voice proved well suited to its lovely chromatic twists and turns, and her ability to project sent it ringing throughout the hall, seemingly effortlessly, unforced.

After that majestic fugue ending the sixth movement, there remained one final movement to hear. Although marked “Feierlich” (“Solemnly”), it began with a radiant melody on the words “Selig sind die Toten, die in den Herrn sterben, von nun an” (“Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from henceforth”).

But the movement also imcorporates a more humanist sentiment: “Ja, der Geist spricht, dass sie ruhen von ihrer Arbeit; denn ihre Werke folgen immer nach.” (“Yes, speaks the spirit, that they rest from their labors; for their works follow ever after.”)

Compare that to the sentiment that opens a traditional liturgical Requiem: “Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.” (“Give them eternal rest, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.”)

Here Brahms returns us to where we began, in a way, but with different ears and experience, as the movement’s final section then takes up and subtly reworks the initial choral cadence from the first movement, peacefully concluding the Requiem with the word which began the journey: “Selig” (“Blessed”).

And with that, we can now turn to the precedent work on the program, better prepared:

Adolphus Hailstork’s Epitaph for a Man Who Dreamed (1979) honors the legacy of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. This was only the second time the ASO has ever performed the work on a classical subscription concert, the first time being in 1996, with Yoel Levi conducting.

Epitaph begins softly in the strings, and Hailstork allows them space between the opening phrases, like a sigh and a breath, a sigh and a breath. Then, rejecting virtuosity, the texture and volume build like a tide coming in. Then we get some cresting waves, each followed by a retreat of dynamics. The inevitable momentum comes as the orchestration takes on more hues and grows to its climax, then the tide slowly retreats.

Hailstork himself offers different imagery:

“A great man is being buried. A few mourners ring the gravesite singing a spiritual. Gradually, more bereaved gather and join in (strings). They reflect on their memories of hopes and dreams inspired by their fallen leader. The service concludes, and the bowed heads begin to lift. They will carry on.”

Epitaph proved an admirable reflection upon the life and legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr., whose ministry was undeniably exemplary of Judeo-Christian humanism, worthy of the text from Revelation 14:15 that Brahms set in the final movement of his Requiem:

“Yes, speaks the spirit, that they rest from their labors; for their works follow ever after.” ■

The Atlanta Symphony Orchestra will repeat this program on Saturday evening, January 28, 2023, at Atlanta Symphony Hall.

EXTERNAL LINKS:

Atlanta Symphony Orchestra: aso.org
Sir Donald Runnicles: donaldrunnicles.org
Ying Fang: imgartists.com/roster/ying-fang
Russell Braun: intermusica.com/artist/russell-braun

About the author:

Mark Gresham is publisher and principal writer of EarRelevant. He began writing as a music journalist over 30 years ago, but has been a composer of music much longer than that. He was the winner of an ASCAP/Deems Taylor Award for music journalism in 2003.

Read more by Mark Gresham.