by Janet I. Wasserman - New York, NY
Seiji Ozawa brought together his Boston Symphony Orchestra, the Tanglewood Festival Choir, the PALS Children's Chorus, and the soloists, soprano Christine Goerke, tenor Ian Bostridge, and bass-baritone Thomas Quasthoff, in Britten's moving tribute to soldiers lost in two world wars. With Ms. Goerke standing at the rear of the stage in the center of the first row of the choir, the children's chorus high up in the left balcony (with what appeared to be a harmonium to accompany them), the BSO spread across the stage, and Bostridge and Quasthoff at stage front next to the conductor, this was a massive assemblage. The voices were all primed and (almost always) audible but then the hall's acoustics do count for something here. The Tanglewood Chorus was marvelous. Their several prior performances of the Requiem were fine vetting for their move to New York City. I sat next to a couple from Boston whose eleven-year-old son was in the PALS Children's Chorus. From our conversation about their training and discipline I can well understand how such a group of non-professional children acquitted themselves so well.
I cannot say how Britten orchestrated the score but the BSO was perhaps too loud and at times overpowering. The brass really shrieked but then given the nature of the text one might argue that shrieking brass is central to the interpretation of Wilfred Owen's poems. At times, a French horn was wobbly and the strings seemed a bit overtaxed to be heard. The soloists were excellent. Ms. Goerke's warm yet clarion voice soared from her place between choir and orchestra. While Bostridge does not have the biggest tenor voice, he has a deep feeling for the text and the advantage of clear English pronunciation. Bostridge has a light but shining tenor which carried through the hall although there were a few instances when both Bostridge and Quasthoff were slightly outweighed by the orchestra's volume. At times Quasthoff's English was not up to par. "Have" and "had", for example, were pronounced "hev" and "hed". He sang through his lines with less than the usual dependable crispness of pronunciation we've come to appreciate when he sings in German and Italian.
Quibbles about Quasthoff's pronunciation aside, he was mesmerizing to watch. When he was not singing he swayed to the music. For a good stretch of time he mouthed the Latin words along with the choir although he had no singing to do at that point. His voice was warm and rich and, like Bostridge and Goerke, he sang effortlessly. Goerke, when singing solo or with the choir, stood facing the audience. She looked quite regal. When seated, Bostridge always looked down at the score in his lap. When he stood to sing, Bostridge looked down at his score on a music stand. Only a few times did he look up and out at the audience. Quasthoff's face was always turned up and looking at the audience, or up at the top of the house, or occasionally he looked at the children's chorus in the balcony. He appeared to be deeply in touch with the music and the text in a reverential attitude.
This is a powerful requiem in an equally powerful performance and Ozawa was in total command until the last notes from the chorus. He held everyone on stage in complete stillness until the last reverberation faded away. Then, silence. Then, applause.