Anyone familiar with his Mahler knows how meticulous Benjamin Zander is about architecture, narrative flow and dramatic arc and how his spacious sense of execution allows for every detail, every nuance, to make its mark. He also knows preparation abets execution and his preparation begins with philologically sound choices about the score and, where voices are involved, casting. So he kept the chorus to orchestra ratio roughly the same as that of 1874, replaced the obsolete ophicleide with the historically appropriate cimbasso and faithfully followed dynamic and expressive markings.
In his pre-concert talk to this Boston Philharmonic performance, Zander gave credit to his longtime friend and the Met’s former chorus master, Donald Palumbo, for the choice of the strong quartet of soloists and for making a day trip to Boston to coach the Chorus Pro Musica. The chorus’ expressive range from syllabic declamation to full throated singing, wed to a broad dynamic spectrum, was impressive, ever in service to the dramatic moment. The soloists constituted a true ensemble, balanced and blended among themselves and with the orchestra and chorus. Even the solos considered star turns remained, like the chorus’ loudest and most impassioned outbursts, within the dynamic and expressive framework of the whole.
In this, Zander was faithful to Verdi’s premise that his singers should avoid the operatic and strive for something more intimate, much like a movie director schooling a theater veteran to do less. John Osborn’s solo can stand for all as an example of this approach. His Ingemisco was the heartfelt plea of a humble sinner, yearning for a place in the afterlife inter oves. He observed all of the dynamic markings and the several passages marked dolce, dolcissimo or morendo were sung in a honeyed mezza voce. The same finesse and sensitivity marked all his singing and raised the Hostias to the level of the sublime.
Maharram Huseynov’s smoothness and sonorous ease of production lent solemnity and nobility to his contributions. With his voice tolling like a passing bell, he shaded the hoped-for perpetual light in the Lux aeterna. Verdi knew how well the two women he cast complemented and contrasted each other from working with them on Aida. Palumbo must have had that in mind when he chose Ailyn Pérez and Daniela Mack. Soprano Teresa Stolz was known for power throughout her range and the ability to hit and hold notes above the staff with ease. Pérez shares all those skills and qualities and a voice with a bronze sheen to it that made the blend with Mack in the Recordare and the tricky a cappella introduction to the Agnus Dei practically seamless and mesmerizing. She employed chest voice to great dramatic effect in the harrowing mini-drama of the Libera me. Mack herself delivered the narrative Liber scriptus with chilling austerity, a marked contrast to her warmth and poignant yearning in the Lux aeterna.
With the Libera me, Zander brought together the threads he began spinning with the hushed chorus’ opening, halting plaint. The seesawing tensions between light and dark, hope and fear, salvation and redemption returned for the last time. But unity did not mean resolution as a reprise of the Dies irae once again blasted to oblivion all hope and light, despite Pérez’s frantic, desperate entreaties and a savage fugue showing the chorus ready to storm the heavens to obtain a guarantee of salvation. Undaunted. Pérez persisted though her voice was reduced to a husk and barely able to articulate her final plea. With the audience as drained as the soprano, the Requiem ended as it began, a hushed chorus remaining unanswered and salvation an enigma.
