Orchestra Wellington: a memorable performance of Britten’s War Requiem
Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem is a 20th century modernist masterpiece. Britten composed the work in 1962 for performance at the dedication of a rebuilt Coventry Cathedral in England. The city’s medieval Cathedral had been destroyed in 1940 in the 2nd World War in a massive German raid code-named ‘Moonlight Sonata’ – it took place on a brilliantly moonlit night – that virtually razed to the ground much of Coventry, a centre of munitions and aircraft construction.
Scottish architect Basil Spence (known to New Zealanders as the designer of the Beehive wing of our Parliament Buildings) won the competition in 1951 to design a rebuilt Coventry Cathedral. His radical entry incorporated the ruin of the old cathedral with a modern new building.
Britten, an avowed pacifist, also chose an “old and new” approach for his War Requiem. Combining the text of the Latin mass for the dead with poems by British war poet Wilfred Owen, he created a profoundly moving composition on a large scale, written in what he described as “an act of reparation.”
Scored for large orchestra, chamber orchestra, two organs, large choir, children’s choir and soloists, the War Requiem was a big undertaking for Orchestra Wellington for their final concert of 2024. Under the visionary direction of conductor Marc Taddei, the combined forces gave a consistently strong, atmospheric and dramatic account of the work.
Owen was, like Britten, a pacifist but, unlike the composer, who as a conscientious objector didn’t fight in the 2nd World War, Owen enlisted as a soldier in the 1st World War, fought in the trenches and was killed in France in 1918, aged 25. The juxtaposition of Owen’s poetry with the Latin of the Mass is at the core of both the political anti-war message and the emotional impact of the War Requiem, and fine singing by both choruses and soloists ensured a deeply affecting performance.
Owen’s marvellous poetry vividly expresses his anger at war’s brutality, and Britten chose perhaps his most well-known poem, Anthem for Doomed Youth, to set first in the Requiem. He entrusted the words to the tenor soloist, sung in the 1962 premiere by his partner, Peter Pears. In this Wellington performance, after the reverent opening of the Requiem Aeternum by chorus and children’s choir, the splendid voice of Australian operatic tenor Daniel Szesiong Todd rang forth with Owen’s lines: “What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?/ Only the monstrous anger of the guns.” The tubular bells from the orchestra provided poignant punctuation.
All three soloists — Todd, London-based New Zealand baritone Benson Wilson, and Auckland-based soprano Morag Atchison — were impressive, all possessed of big, operatic voices that soared with ease over the massed forces when required. Britten, revealing his depth of understanding of the voice, set the tenor and baritone solos in most cases with accompaniment from the small chamber orchestra positioned at the front of the stage. The two male soloists sing the poems in English, while the soprano sings the Latin texts, often with chorus.
The Orpheus Choir gave a great, vocally focussed performance with a wide dynamic range, solemn and ethereal one moment, angry and strong the next. The small children’s choir also sang with a lovely clear tone and musical sense of melodic line.
The full text was available in the programme, but auditorium lights were dimmed so following the text was barely possible and, at times, in spite of good diction, it was difficult to follow the unfolding story, nor the wonderful poetry, in detail. The Latin texts, familiar to many, were provided only in English translation, which didn’t help. Surtitles might have worked but were perhaps not easily provided in the Michael Fowler Centre, though the venue’s acoustics seldom enhance the work of singers. I was reminded more than once that Britten wrote the work for resonant Cathedral acoustics.
That said, it was a memorable event with many musical and emotional highlights. The Dies Irae had dramatic rage in the marvellous choral singing amongst brass fanfares. Wilson’s lovely baritone told the tragic story: “Bugles sang, saddening the evening air; And bugles answered, sorrowful to hear.” It is a long section, all forces engaged, and ends sadly with the words of the mass, Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem, Amen, beautifully sung by Atchison with the chorus.
At this point the performance stopped for a short burst of applause as the lights came up for an interval. The mood was broken somewhat, but was quickly restored in the second half, beginning with the pure voices of the children’s choir, followed by spiky rhythms from the full chorus. Baritone and tenor soloists sang a splendid duet setting of Owen’s poem The Parable of the Old Man and the Young, narrating, with sensitive chamber orchestra accompaniment, the Biblical story of Abraham slaying his son.
The Sanctus, Agnus Dei and Libera Me complete the Requiem. Near the end came a still, chilling and wonderful moment, as Wilson sang the final stanza from the long Owen poem Strange Meeting. “I am the enemy you killed, my friend. / I knew you in this dark; for so you frowned/ Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.” The baritone voice is in musical conversation with the solo instruments of the chamber orchestra, depicting the “strange meeting” of the poem’s title. The work then ends very movingly. “Let us sleep now,” sing the two male soloists, the chorus offering a final “Requiescant in pace” (Rest in peace) and a quiet “Amen” as the auditorium lights faded to darkness.
I am reading a remarkable book, Time’s Echo: Music, Memory and the Second World War, by Jeremy Eichler. In it Eichler writes about four compositions: Britten’s War Requiem, Shostakovich’s “Babi Yar” Symphony, Schoenberg’s A Survivor from Warsaw, and Richard Strauss’s Metamorphosen, and how their creation and performance can illuminate the darkness of history. It is profound, wise and lyrical writing and I recommend it highly.
In a ‘Prelude’, the author writes: “Music’s potency as a medium of cultural memory also flows from its mysterious ability to bridge intellect and emotion; its ability to short-circuit the centuries by yoking ‘then’ and ‘now’ with a single performance; and its haunting way of expressing deep yet untranslatable truths that lie beyond the province of language.”
This ‘single performance’ of Britten’s War Requiem did all of these things, and the final “rest in peace” did not erase Britten’s fierce depiction of war’s brutality. The performance was timely reminder of the horrors and futility of war and as such has enormous and disturbing contemporary relevance. It will remain in the memories of those present for a long time.
Orchestra Wellington “A Modern Hero” War Requiem by Benjamin Britten Marc Taddei (conductor), Orpheus Choir Wellington (director, Brent Stewart), Wellington Young Voices, Morag Atchison (soprano), Daniel Szesiong Todd (tenor), Benson Wilson (baritone). Wellington December 7, 2024
Note: The concert “A Modern Hero” opened with the premiere performance of Hour of Lead by Eve de Castro-Robinson, which is reviewed separately here.