Ein Deutsches Requiem

St Cuthbert’s Parish Church, Edinburgh 16/11/24

Edinburgh Royal Choral Union, Edinburgh Pro Musica Chamber Orchestra, Michael Bawtree conductor, Sophie Bysouth soprano, Caspian Plummer baritone, Anna Michels piano, Morley Whitehead organ

It was almost exactly two years ago that this reviewer first attended a concert at the breathtakingly beautiful venue of St Cuthbert’s Parish Church on Lothian Road, a performance of Brahms’ German Requiem by the Scottish Chamber Choir in collaboration with the Calton Consort and the Meadows Chamber Orchestra.  The same choral masterpiece was the principal work in a Remembrance-focussed programme presented by the much larger 100-strong Edinburgh Royal Choral Union on the night of 16th November at the same venue (with the orchestral parts in a chamber reduction by Iain Farrington).  Works by C. V. Stanford and Ronald Center comprised the first half of the concert.  Conducting Fellow of the Choral Union, composer and tenor Fraser David Macdonald, conducted the Stanford, while the choir’s conductor Michael Bawtree conducted the Center and the Brahms.  Organist Morley Whitehead and pianist Anna Michels played in the Center; the piano part was crucial too in Iain Farrington’s arrangement of the Brahms.  A pre-concert talk on the life, personality and art of Ronald Center featured former BBC radio journalist and presenter James Naughtie, who had been taught piano by the composer in Huntly in the late 50s and early 60s, and Anna Michels who has made a study of Center’s piano music and performs it regularly, in conversation, offering many insights into the shy, reclusive, self-taught and self-critical composer.  The excellent gratis printed programmes included all texts, plus high quality notes from Morley Whitehead (for the Stanford), Anna Michels (for the Center), and Michael Bawtree (for the Brahms).  Once again, I applaud the lighting in St Cuthbert’s; never dimmed, allowing the programme to be read – would that this were the norm.  The choir, all clad in black, wore red poppies.  The performance was very well attended.

Stanford’s anthem, ‘For lo, I rise up’, was written in 1914 but not published until 1939, both dates of significance in the wars of the twentieth century.  A setting of the prophet Habakkuk, it is reproachful of warmongers and turbulently descriptive of the terror of war in F-minor, before asserting the hope of the faithful in F-major that peace will be restored through the mercy of the Almighty.  After the mood-setting organ introduction, the ensemble sound was most impressive.  Despite being comparatively few (only 7), the tenor section did not lack oomph.  A very satisfying concert-opener, with musical language that did not stray from 19th century norms.  Fraser moved from podium to join the tenors in the chorus for the rest of the programme.

Ronald Center’s ‘Dona Nobis Pacem’, interspersing the Latin text of the ‘Agnus Dei’ with 3 anti-war poems of Walt Whitman, 1 by John Bright, and biblical quotations, in 7 movements, was composed singly over many years, probably for Huntly Choral Society, of which Center was the Music Director.  The unusual instrumentation comprises organ, piano, timpani (Paddy Nolan) and side drum (Noah Chalamanda).  The irony of Whitman’s ‘Beat! Beat! Drums!’ exhorting the warmongers and destroyers to their brutal work, oblivious to the pleas and suffering of their victims, was set with music that was jarringly jingoistic, stylistically individual and chillingly effective.  My attention was grabbed.  No less chilling was the same poet’s ‘Reconciliation’ a chromatic tenor solo from Timothy Coleman, a macabre funeral march concluding with the victor leaning to kiss the corpse of the vanquished.  More Whitman, the ‘Dirge for two veterans’, is another funeral march, for a father and son slain together, but for full choir, rhythmic with organ, piano and timpani, and concluding with tenderness.  The fourth, central movement, commencing with Bright’s ‘The Angel of Death’, is the most apocalyptic, beginning with a grim baritone solo from guest Caspian Plummer.  The choir’s quiet plea for peace is violently disrupted by wild piano interjections.  No comfort is offered by Jeremiah’s description of desolation that closes the movement.  Bleak but brilliant (and a total fave).  For the last three numbers, optimism is established.  ‘The glory of this latter house’ is a brief quotation from the Book of Haggai, dotted rhythms establishing a lighter mood with the promise of peace.  A sombre organ introduction gives way to a mood of rejoicing in ‘Glory to God in the highest’, timpani and side drum no longer threatening but joining in the ‘Alleluia’.   Peace and joy reign in the final ‘Agnus Dei’, soft choir harmonies supporting a lovely soprano solo, while the piano emulates the ringing of little bells.  A super piece, which received a committed and convincing advocacy from the performers.

In 1980, my father played in the first violins of the orchestra that accompanied a performance of ‘Ein Deutsches Requiem’ in St Anne’s Church in Dublin, coming home from rehearsals raving about the beauty of the music.  When I saw the 2LP EMI box set of the Klemperer/Schwartzkopf/Fischer-Dieskau recording in my local record shop, I bought it, ostensibly for his birthday, but really for me (with the coupling of Christa Ludwig in the Alto Rhapsody and the Tragic Overture, ‘’twould be rude not to).  Being entirely frank, the billing of ‘Edinburgh Pro Musica Chamber Orchestra’ offered no hint that Iain Farrington’s arrangement of Brahms’ score was very much a chamber reduction for nonet, consisting of violin, viola, cello, double bass, flute, oboe, clarinet, timpani and piano.  As a lifelong fan of Brahms’ chamber music, I was not necessarily put off by this, though I did wonder whether the absence of brass from the scoring would present any interpretative challenges.  The original has 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones and a tuba.

‘Selig sind, die da Leid tragen’ rose from the instrumental depths as it should.  The chorus entered with the same clarity of diction, flawless intonation, dynamic range and balance that had been characteristic of the first half of the concert, joyously radiant with “werden mit Freuden”.  The piano emulating the harp in the closing bars (as it did in all numbers with a harp part) was lovely.  So far so good.  The world-weary B-flat minor trudge of the opening of Denn alles Fleisch sustained the tension wonderfully, the timpani triplets grimly stoic.  But when the horn was needed to build the angst with octave leaps and semitones, this had been given to the sole cello.  A single cello cannot be a horn; the moment passed unnoticed, some of the contrast of the lighter ‘So seid nun geduldig’ therefore obscured.  The sun still burst through in the major key with ‘Aber des Herrn Wort’ and the magic was restored with delicious counterpoint.  I would happily confirm that, for the rest of the Brahms, the arrangement was more boon than bane.  I am an admirer of Iain Farrington’s work (ever since his pre-concert talk a few years ago about Elgar’s First Symphony at Glasgow’s City Halls, illustrated at the piano, easily the best pre-concert talk I have ever attended).  But I really missed that horn.

Baritone Caspian Plummer returned and delivered the pensive ‘Herr, lehre doch mich’ with clearest German diction, taken up by the choir as a stoic march.  His wearily expressive ‘Ach wie gar nichts’ was answered by soaring women’s voices, launching a glorious choral fugato, superbly sung.  The waltzlike vision of eternal rest in ‘Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen’ was exquisite and supported by elegant flute playing.  Guest soprano Sophie Bysouth matched Caspian’s diction but with fuller projection in ‘Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit’, the conversation with winds and chorus elegantly pointed.  The sixth movement, ‘Denn wir haben’ will always be my favourite.  The tempo choice for the opening march for solo baritone and chorus was brisker and more purposeful than I am used to, but I felt it worked perfectly.  The tension built nicely and ‘Tod, wo ist dein stachel?’ was as spirited and defiant as I have heard.  The climactic transition from anxious C minor to a triumphant C major and my favourite Brahms fugue was tremendous, though again, I found myself musing on how much better it would have been with brass.  The idyllic finale ‘Selig sind die Toten’ let us believe that, at long last, the plea ‘Dona nobis pacem’ has been answered.  Very beautiful.

As a performance of a masterpiece, this was undeniably spellbinding.  The chorus and soloists sang their hearts out and the instrumentalists did their level best with what they had been given.  But the chamber arrangement felt significantly underpowered, with essential timbres absent from the scoring.  Huge plaudits to the chorus for steadfastness of pitch despite the thinness of the instrumental support.  They were a credit to themselves and their conductor.  Chamber arrangements can deliver plusses such as clarity of detail, and Farrington’s might have done so with a chamber choir, but with full chorus, we need the oomph and I was more aware of the minuses.  Nonetheless, the Brahms melodies were buzzing in my head throughout the journey home and still now.