February 22, 24 & 25, 2024
Atlanta Symphony Hall, Woodruff Arts Center
Atlanta, Georgia – USA
Nathalie Stutzmann, conductor; Masabane Cecilia Rangwanasha, soprano; Ekaterina Gubanova, mezzo-soprano; Mario Chang, tenor; Ilia Kazaakov, bass; ASO Chorus (Norman Mackenzie, director).
Giuseppe VERDI: Requiem
Mark Gresham | 26 FEB 2024
The Atlanta Symphony Orchestra has a long and rich history of presenting Giuseppe Verdi’s monumental Messa da Requiem, starting with its first performance of the work in 1954 conducted by founding music director Henry Sopkin. Subsequent renditions were led by Robert Shaw in 1969, 1977, 1980, and 1987. A renowned recording under Shaw’s baton released as a Telarc double CD garnered three Grammy Awards in 1989. More recently, Robert Spano conducted the ASO in 2006 at Symphony Hall and Carnegie Hall, with further performances in 2010 and 2015. Then, most recently, a magnificent performance of the work led by Donald Runnicles in 2017.
On Thursday night, the ASO and its esteemed Chorus took up the work once more under the baton of current music director Nathalie Stutzmann, with soprano Masabane Cecilia Rangwanasha, mezzo-soprano Ekaterina Gubanova, tenor Mario Chang (who replaced the previously scheduled Issachach Savage), and bass Ilia Kazaakov in his US debut as the prominent quartet of vocal soloists.
Despite being one of the genuinely great choral-orchestral works of classical repertoire where the chorus is a genuine star, the ASO Chorus in this performance seemed to take more of a back seat. Thankfully, in this concert, Stutzmann finally had the four soloists seated at the front of the orchestra versus her practice of placing them in front of the chorus but behind the orchestra, as witnessed in several previous choral-orchestral concerts, albeit curiously in this instance between her podium and the orchestra, rather than genuinely out front and to the sides of the podium where solo vocal artists typically are positioned — as if she wanted to conduct the guest artists rather than musically collaborate with them. (There is a difference.)
Certainly, the chorus and orchestra had their powerful and virtuosic moments: In half-hour-long Part II, the opening “Dies irae” statement, the emphatically dramatic vision of judgment by an angry God (who just might keep a loved one from burning in Hell under the right circumstances), and the “Tuba mirum” segment that immediately followed with its showy theatrical display of antiphonal trumpet calls across the hall from balcony and stage (which calls forth, for me, the vision in John Donne’s sonnet, “At the round earth’s imagin’d corners, blow / Your trumpets, angels, …”). Then there is the “Sanctus,” which we’ll get to later.
Everything else in the Requiem seemed to meander as if Stutzmann had little idea where she was going with it. Among its consequences, that feeling of directionlessness made the three repetitions of the “Dies irae” passage twice more within this section (tagged after the “Liber scriptus” and “Confutatis” texts) and especially a final iteration in Part VII, the “Libera me” (after the text, “Quando coeli movendi sunt et terra.”) seem increasingly gratuitous, without cause, like jumping out from behind a tree and shouting “Boo!” simply to be loud and annoying, rather than a consequence of the work’s dramatic progress.
On the opposite end of the dynamic spectrum, in the opening (“Grant them eternal rest, O Lord”) with muted strings, Sturzmann kept the sotto voce Chorus darkly covered and mumbly rather than allowing them a gossamer luminousness that vitalizes the musical energy that should underscore the critical concept expressed in the text, “and let perpetual light shine upon them.” This “blanketed” feeling pervaded most of the softer dynamics in the choral sound throughout.
The complicated eight-part double-chorus fugue of the “Sanctus” simply seemed too fast, lacking a noble breadth that would have benefitted the declaration of “Holy, holy, holy,” even though the Chorus achieved the technical execution of the music at that velocity.
The quartet of soloists was excellent and mostly well-matched — particularly Gubanova, Chang, and Kazaakov — but as the piece progressed, the soprano Rangwanasha became increasingly noticeable as the outlier in terms of making for a unified quartet. She has a lovely silken voice, but slightly smaller than the other three. And at the treacherous octave ascent to high B♭ above the unaccompanied chorus, all marked at “pppp” (pianissississimo), which demands an absolute ability to float the high note, she didn’t quite obtain that transcendent gossamer goal (unlike the electrifying execution achieved by soprano Erin Wall with the ASO Chorus in the 2017 performance).
While many in the audience enjoyed Thursday’s rendition of Verdi’s Requiem, it was certainly not on par with the legacy of ASO performances. It continues to frustrate that somehow, Stutzmann has a peculiar knack for turning an iconic masterpiece into something remarkably ordinary. ■
EXTERNAL LINKS:
- Atlanta Symphony Orchestra: aso.org
- Nathalie Stutzmann: nathaliestutzmann.com
Read more by Mark Gresham.
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