It is a central thesis of Paul Fussell’s The Great War and Modern Memory (1975) that the First World War elevated an ironic disposition to become the dominant mode through which we engage with the modern world. In brief, this was because the horrendous reality of that war was so out of kilter with the images and ideals that had been used to promote it. One example from the Second World War that further illustrates his thesis is the name the Luftwaffe high command gave for the devastating raid they launched on the City of Coventry and its Gothic cathedral on 14 November1940, which was “Operation Moonlight Sonata”. Some twenty-one years later, however, the consecration of a new cathedral that had been built to replace the one destroyed that night would be marked by the premiere of what is itself now acknowledged to be a musical masterwork, Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem.
Scored for soprano, tenor and baritone soloists, chorus, children’s (originally boy’s) choir, organ, and two orchestras (a full orchestra and a chamber orchestra), programming it is a major logistical undertaking, but as the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra well demonstrated in the first of their two scheduled performances in Hamer Hall, it also brings considerable musical dividends.
This, indeed, was a wholly successful performance. Soloists, choirs, and orchestras alike were in top-flight form and conductor Jaime Martín shaped them all into a tightly cohesive whole with conviction and clarity. In particular, Toby Spence (tenor) and David Greco (baritone) were superbly matched as the pair of allegorical soldiers charged with delivering texts by First World War poet Wilfred Owen that intercut (and also seem to comment on) the traditional Latin text of a Requiem Mass. Without doubt a good deal of Britten’s creative achievement, and the ultimate power of the War Requiem as a whole, lies in the aptness and effectiveness of these poetic interpolations even before we consider the brilliance with which they are set to music. Both Spence and Greco delivered them with great intelligence and sensitivity, exhibiting crystal-clear diction, precise intonation and (as occasional duetting partners) complementary tone colours.
Samantha Clarke’s clear, powerful soprano voice was similarly well suited to her complementary dramatic role as soloist paired with the larger orchestra and symphony chorus. Together, along with the children’s chorus, they deliver the Mass text. Her singing of the “Lacrimosa” was especially heart rending, as indeed it should be, not least because it is almost irresistible at this point to link the abstract liturgical expression of anguish here directly to that contained in Owen’s poetry.
Both the MSO Chorus (prepared by Warren Trevelyan-Jones), and Gondwana Voices, who provided the children’s chorus (prepared and conducted by Lyn Williams), were also excellent. To be sure, this is not at all easy music for a volunteer chorus and children alike to master, but they more than met the challenge, and both performed with conviction and class. My only query here was whether it was necessary, all the same, for the MSO to bring down a children’s choir based in Sydney (as good as Gondwana unquestionably are); the carbon footprint alone should surely have given pause for thought.
Britten later noted in a speech he gave at the Aspen Festival in 1964 that he had composed the Requiem “for a big, reverberant acoustic”. Hamer Hall is certainly no cathedral, and while it remains without an organ it is even further away from serving as a substitute for one than most modern concert halls. But the placement of the children’s choir in the Balcony in particular proved very effective. It was also crucial to the overall success of the performance given that Britten encourages us to hear his work, at least in part, through the voices of children, who are not only strangers to adult conflicts, but also so often its conspicuous victims.
This is, indeed, music with a message. Stravinsky later famously complained that it is a lesser work as a result, but he was surely mistaken. Maybe in 1962, in front of an audience that would almost all have had at least an indirect personal connection to the twin calamities of 1914-19 and 1939-45 one could afford to be less literal. Today, however, maybe we can’t afford not to be. In any event, if you are able to catch the last of these performances, do!
Photo supplied.
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Peter Tregear reviewed the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra’s presentation of Britten’s “War Requiem”, performed at Arts Centre Melbourne, Hamer Hall, on April 14, 2023.
