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San Antonio Symphony, Sebastian Lang-Lessing
From Brahms, two views of the end
November 13, 2011
The San Antonio Symphony and
music director Sebastian Lang-Lessing marked Veteran’s Day, Nov. 11,
with two ruminations on death by Johannes Brahms, one from his early
maturity and one from the year before his own death in 1897.
The more familiar to symphonic audiences was “A German Requiem” for
orchestra, chorus, baritone and soprano, composed over several years in
the middle 1860s -- the First Symphony was yet to come. The program
opened with the Four Serious Songs, originally for baritone (or alto)
and piano, as orchestrated and expanded by German composer Detlev
Glanert in 2005. The orchestra was joined by baritone Morgan Smith,
soprano Claudia Barainsky and a supersized chorus comprising the
Mastersingers and the UTSA Concert Choir, prepared by John
Silantien.
The earlier work is not a setting of the Requiem Mass, but of an
assortment of Biblical texts that aim to console the living. Although
Brahms chose some texts that point to the promise of life after death,
he pointedly avoided explicitly Christian doctrine. Much of the music
is somber -- the violins, those beacons of sonic light, don’t play at
all in the first of its seven movements, and the second opens wih a
trudging dirge -- but much is luminous. This is essentially a
humanistic and hopeful piece.
The Four Serious Songs are much darker in character. The first three,
with texts from Ecclesiastes, speak of the inevitability and finality
of death and of the oppression and evil that pervade life. The last,
from I Corinthians, suggests that agape love is our only lasting
legacy. This is a humanistic piece, too, but it represents the
existentialist strain of humanism.
The Four Serious Songs have been orchestrated before, most notably by
the important British conductor Malcolm Sargent, but Glanert’s effort
appears to be the first to gain traction. His orchestrations of the
songs are very Brahmsian in color, and he has added four original
preludes and a postlude that transform material from the songs and pull
the style into the 20th century of Sibelius, late Mahler and the
expressionist Schoenberg -- the first prelude builds up to a plangent
12-tone chord that, along with other passages, recalls Mahler’s Tenth
Symphony. The third prelude is a diabolical waltz, leading naturally to
the triple (3/2) meter of the third song, whose text from Ecclesiastes
notes that death is bitter to the strong and fortunate but welcome to
the feeble and sorrowful. The whole is performed as (and works
effectively as) a single continuous piece.
Mr. Smith served both works
exceptionally well. His instrument was dark at its core but with a
bright edge and a very free, open resonance that seemed to spread
beyond his body. There was a sense of foreboding in his voice that was
entirely appropriate to the music. His diction was admirable, and he
was consistently attentive to the meaning and feeling of the texts.
Ms. Barainsky comes with a sterling reputation, but in this concert her
voice seemed narrow and constrained, and bothered by odd swoops, though
it did warm up toward the end of her single contribution, in the fifth
movement of “A German Requiem.” (But it can’t be easy to sing
beautifully after sitting silently for nearly an hour.)
Choral ensemble and tone suffered a little from overpopulation, but for
the most part the singing was clean and strong.
Mr. Lang-Lessing’s very carefully gauged balances, seamless flow and
pointed rhythms came from the center and the high ground of the
Germanic tradition. There was no funny business, no affectation -- just
cogent, intelligent musicianship.
The trombone-tuba section sounded splendid in the rising figures of the
sixth movement, and principal oboe Mark Ackerman contributed elegant
solo work in the first. Only complaint: The understaffed violins (12
firsts, 10 seconds) couldn’t produce a full enough sound to stand up to
the winds and the large chorus.
One comment about the
counterchronological order of the program: Although the Four Serious
Songs reflects the greater wisdom of age and ought properly to have
followed the gauzier “A German Requiem,” our civic religion resists
hard truths. Thus it was necessary to close with the more optimistic
and uplifting work.
For more or less the same reason, Veterans Day speeches must affirm
that soldiers fought, bled and died in service to our nation’s freedom
when, truth be told, as often as not they fought, bled and died in
service to the vanity, greed, ideology and stupidity of our nation’s
leaders.
Mike
Greenberg
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