“From the heart – may it go to the heart.” Forged in humility, Beethoven’s Missa solemnis – neither the first nor last of its kind but the only one of such majesty – baffled its era and continues to agonise ours.
It takes a brave man and an inspirational mind to guide us through the vastness of its landscape, the intricacies of its high art. Brian Schembri’s recent performance in Rome – with the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra, the Coro dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia, and a quartet of international soloists from Germany and America – reaffirmed his standing as a major Beethoven interpreter for our age.
His way of holding a piece together, his generation of dramatic tension and repose, and his attention to climaxes and cadences reminds me of past greats, of other worlds, other days. He gets to the roots of a piece, he eschews gratuitous gesture.
Never an interventionist, he allows the music to speak in its own continuum and space.
Before a capacity audience of 2,500, this filmed Missa solemnis – a project in the planning for nigh on 14 months – fulfilled every promise and expectation. It quite took one’s breath away.
Similarly, the appointed venue, the papal basilica of San Paolo Fuori le Mura, visually and architecturally a place of staggering grandeur, hampered only by its cavernous resonance – albeit no greater than that of the Gothic building for which Beethoven originally envisaged the work, Cologne Cathedral.
His attention to climaxes and cadences reminds me of past greats
In the larger scheme of things, the Renaissance masters, Berlioz and Bruckner, will always survive better here than the Baroque, Beethoven or Brahms. Battling its obstacles, the inhuman demands it exerts on singers and instrumentalists (not hearing each other easily for one), Schembri triumphed in crafting an account of remarkable detail, tightness and clarity of ensemble, without ever losing the more urgent, rapid-paced elements of Beethoven’s message. The Kyrie – a beautifully imagined assai sostenuto vision – dominated from the outset for its long paragraphing and the subtle decay of phrases and cessations; equally for its precisely scaled dynamics.
By the end of the Gloria – fugue, opera and symphony come together – the tension was high, the music boiling with thrust, apogee and ringing Gloria’s echoing for ever, Schembri’s rugged, direct beat guaranteeing the magnificence of the moment.
The venue, the papal basilica of San Paolo Fuori le Mura, is visually and architecturally a place of staggering grandeur, hampered only by its cavernous resonance. Photo: Clifton Fenech/DOITaking a break from his usual front desk at the London Symphony Orchestra, Carmine Lauri led with accustomed authority and commitment, fashioning a dreaming violin solo in the Benedictus – ruminating and remembering with a rare and fragile beauty, weaving dolce circles high up among the columns and gold-leafed silence surrounding the altar.
The trumpets and (hard-stick) drums of war sent other messages in the Agnus Dei, fearful in their whispered, then rampaging, attack. Dona Nobis Pacem pleaded for peace more than demanded it. The notoriously tricky closing bars spiralled inexorably.
The four vocal soloists, comfortably matched, commanded for the clarity and power of their delivery, as well as the calculated unanimity of their ensemble.
Cutting a queenly figure, Jacquelyn Wagner (soprano) soared with effortless ease, while Eva Vogel (mezzo) was a force of nature, holding her line without ever compromising her tone. Daniel Kirch (tenor) opted for an operatic stance. Gerd Grochowski (bass baritone) impressed for his weighty, focussed low notes.
The Coro dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia (which in its history must have done this work countless times) and the Malta Philharmonic (which hasn’t) rose to the occasion eloquently, no-one slacking, everyone, all sections, digging deep into their musical and emotional reserves.
The woodwind, typically for this orchestra, glowed; the heavy brass struck just the right sacred note; underpinning the journey, the double basses growled and thundered with imperious authority.