Verdi Requiem
Glasgow Royal Concert Hall - 12/11/23
City of Glasgow Chorus | Leeds Festival Chorus | Orchestra of Scottish Opera
Paul Keohone, conductor | Elena Xanthoudakis, soprano | Cheryl Forbes, mezzo-soprano | Charne Rochford, tenor | David Stout, baritone
The cold damp night of 12th November brought the massed forces of the City of Glasgow Chorus, the Leeds Festival Chorus and the Orchestra of Scottish Opera, with soloists and under the baton of Paul Keohone, to the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall for a performance of Verdi’s Requiem. Despite the liturgical/ecclesiastical text, it is such a musically dramatic, theatrical and, dare one say, operatic work, that the concert hall is an entirely appropriate performance space (and to be honest, more comfortable than a draughty church in November). The double choir filled the choir balcony of the GRCH and looked formidable. The Orchestra of Scottish Opera were at full strength. Before a note was sung or played, the visuals excited a thrill of anticipation.
Sombre muted strings set the funereal mood and the sotto voce choral lines confirmed that this was the Introit of the Requiem Mass, deceptively concealing for a moment the obvious: this is Verdi; ‘subtlety’ will not be tonight’s watchword. The choral sound was rich and perfectly blended, with delicious pianissimi and crescendi, boding well for the goodies to follow. The soloists set out their stall in the Kyrie, unveiling some of the dramatic power that would be unleashed.
And then, the instantly recognisable, if not notorious, awe-inspiring Dies irae exploded upon us, followed by the equally stupendous Tuba mirum, double chorus and orchestra earning their crust manifold by painting a terrifying picture of the Last Judgement, launching the extended Dies Irae sequence which is nearly half the whole work. The chorus has lots to do in this work, but apart from two reprises of the iconic Dies irae, the absolute gem must be the eight-part fugal Sanctus, which was absolutely superb, not forgetting the SO Orchestra reminding us that nobody plays for voices with more sensitivity and generosity. Paul Keohone kept it all together without the seams showing.
In opera and oratorio alike, basses are rarely burdened with the telling of good news, a tradition respected by Verdi in his requiem also. English bass-baritone David Stout, whose excellent Doctor Bartolo in Scottish Opera’s Barber of Seville I praised less than a month ago, delivered a chilling Mors stupebit, in case we thought we had nothing to fear from the darkness. More delicious dread was inspired by his Confutatis maledictis at the end of the sequence. Spine-tingling.
Of all the vocal solo parts in the Requiem, Verdi’s mezzo-soprano is the most generous but also the most demanding of dynamic range and stamina. Falkirk-born Cheryl Forbes, whose Ines in Scottish Opera’s Gondoliers two years ago was a cameo comedic triumph, brought these blandishments and more to the performance. Her Liber scriptus was dramatic and expressive, with great clarity of diction in her top end and sustained power and warmth in the low and middle parts of the tessitura, not to mention flawless messa in voce supported by the responsive playing of the orchestra, even with the brass chorale playing. The mezzo line is active in nearly half of the rest of the numbers and it was unfailingly expressive and responsive, blending sensitively as required, most beautifully and unforgettably with the soprano line in the Agnus Dei. Perfect.
Greek-Australian soprano, Elena Xanthoudakis, a fine Donna Anna in Scottish Opera’s Don Giovanni summer 2022, was the other voice in that exquisite partnership, delivering crystal clarity and dynamic responsiveness in the Recordare and, with the tenor too, in Quid sum miser. But it is in the final Libera me sequence that the soprano shines solo as the supplicating voice of the tormented soul seeking absolution, and shine she did. If there was a dry eye in the house at the final anguished ‘Libera me!’, it wasn’t mine.
English heldentenor Charne Rochford brought a gloriously rich middle tessitura to the party (because, let’s face it, Verdi isn’t Wagner, not by the longest chalk), beautifully blending with Elena and Cheryl in Quid sum miser. But it was his surpassingly beautiful solo Ingemisco, holding out the hope of salvation for the penitent, that really touched the heart.
I reserve a final special mention for the one number for whose reprise I still ache. The exquisite radiant ensemble polyphony of Cheryl, Charne and David in Lux Aeterna, with tremolo strings, flutes and piccolo was nothing short of perfect.
A great outing for the Verdi masterpiece. Full marks from me.