This page was last updated on: March 16, 2007
REVIEWS
Verdi Requiem, Westminster Cathedral, London, 14 March 2007
The high altar of Westminster Cathedral
Muti a Westminster: un Verdi inquietante, Corriere della Sera, 15 March 2007
Verdi Requiem, Westminster Cathedral, London, The Financial Times, 15 March 2007
Verdi Requiem, Westminster Cathedral, The Times, 16 March 2007
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Muti a Westminster: un Verdi inquietante
Enrico Girardi, Corriere della Sera, 15 March 2007
Di primo acchito ha l'aria d'esser cosa tutta british. Un concerto per festeggiare il cinquantesimo della fondazione del Coro della Philharmonia Orchestra, storica istituzione musicale inglese; un concerto nella cattedrale di Westminster, alla presenza delle massime autorità cittadine e di sua altezza Carlo, principe di Galles, che dell' orchestra è patrono. In programma tuttavia non vi sono Anthems di Händel o Oratori di Elgar, ma la Messa da Requiem di Verdi, la partitura che più di tutte rappresenta l'identità musicale italiana. E sul podio c'è Riccardo Muti, che la diffusione di tale identità mette sempre al primo posto della sua missione.
Il maestro, nominato l'anno scorso «Membro onorario della Philharmonia», che diresse stabilmente dal 1972 al 1982, il Requiem l'ha eseguito in tutto il mondo: nella Basilica di San Lorenzo a Firenze; a San Marco a Milano, a Notre Dame a Parigi, a San Pietro e Paolo di Filadelfia. «Ma ogni volta precisa lo studio fa riaffiorare nuovi particolari, nuove angolature, che vengono anche dall'esperienza».
La partitura è summa d'antica polifonia romana e moderno melodramma, di quadratura formale e sperimentalismo linguistico, di classicità ed Espressionismo ante litteram.
«E ogni volta aggiunge si resta stupefatti da quel finale inconsueto: un do maggiore armonicamente irrisolto, che anziché infondere luminosità e speranza sembra condurci nel dubbio se questo Dio cui ci si rivolge con tutta l'asprezza del profondamente umano sia misericordioso o meno. Una conclusione cupa, dubbiosa». «Del resto, questa musica è una lotta continua, quasi fisica, tra l'uomo e Dio tiene a sottolineare il maestro e anche dal punto di vista esecutivo, il Requiem è opera terribile, soprattutto per i cantanti ai quali Verdi prescrive, da una parte una vocalità melodrammatica, dall'altra una attenzione liturgica alla parola e ai suoi significati». «Con la Philharmonia invece, che ho ripreso a dirigere con una certa frequenza da due anni a questa parte conclude è come riprendere un discorso che non s'è mai interrotto. Con questi professori incidemmo il mio primo Requiem, negli anni Settanta, e ora posso riprendere il discorso di una certa "verdianità", quella che l'orchestra aveva iniziato a sperimentare già con Karajan».
I solisti Tatiana Serjan (soprano), Olga Borodina (mezzo), Giuseppe Sabbatini (tenore), Petri Lindroos (basso) fanno perfettamente il loro dovere, benissimo il Philharmonia Chorus and Orchestra. La cattedrale è gremita. Il pubblico tributa un applauso interminabile. È una bella serata. Manca solo Laura Dubini (la giornalista del Corriere scomparsa sabato scorso dopo una lunga e coraggiosa lotta contro il tumore,
ndr) che di questo concerto avrebbe redatto la cronaca. «Ma nel mio pensiero confida Muti quasi commosso questo Requiem è stato per lei».
Verdi Requiem, Westminster Cathedral, London
Richard Fairman, The Financial Times, 15 March 2007
Since his sudden departure from La Scala, Milan, in 2005, Riccardo Muti must have had some blank pages in his diary. The Philharmonia Orchestra has been one of the beneficiaries of the changes to his schedule and it is good to see Muti making a reappearance in London, where he spent a fruitful decade in the 1970s.
Before they set out on tour together to Hungary and Spain, the Philharmonia provided Muti with a glamorous send-off a performance of Verdi's Requiem in the auspicious setting of Westminster Cathedral, marking the 50th anniversary of the Philharmonia Chorus and in the presence of the orchestra's patron, the Prince of Wales.
Muti gave the impression of a man who was master of all he surveyed. His performances of the Requiem have always been conceived in the world of the living a passionate, red-blooded response to an almost operatic score but what impressed here was the ebb and flow of emotion that brought spontaneity to even the most formal passages.
As always in religious venues, Westminster Cathedral became a performer in its own right, adding overtones and echoes that Verdi never imagined. But Muti had tamed the building too, as far as he could: by waiting for the echo of hellfire trumpets and drums to clear from the far corners of the cathedral he was able to create a few moments where an unearthly peace reigned. Some careful balancing in rehearsal also meant that the Philharmonia Chorus came over splendidly at its own birthday jamboree.
Among the soloists there was one great voice, which was the mezzo of Olga Borodina, less flexible than in her youth, but still a glorious and proud sound. Giuseppe Sabbatini's plangent tenor was at his best when hushed reverence was required and Petri Lindroos made a firm bass. The young Russian soprano Tatiana Serjan is a Muti find and she worked overtime to fulfil his wishes, as he signalled urgent instructions to her on virtually every note and syllable, all but singing the role for her. No question here who was in charge.
Verdi Requiem, Westminster Cathedral
Richard Morrison, The Times, 16 March 2007
Can there be a more awesome setting for Verdi's Requiem the most flamboyant melodrama in the canon of sacred choral masterpieces than the great Neo-Byzantine nave of Westminster Cathedral?
The thwacks of the giant drum ricocheted round the arches like thunderclaps. The trumpets of the Dies Irae placed high in the galleries really did sound like a piercing summons from Heaven. True, the reverberant acoustics tended to blur the fast polyphonies of the Sanctus and Libera Me. But the same ambience magically lifted and sustained the pianissimo choral moments at the opening, for instance seemingly to infinity in the recesses of that vast, dark roof.
This was an auspicious night: a gala concert to mark the 50th anniversary of the Philharmonia Chorus, performed to a packed audience and the Prince of Wales (hence, presumably, the extraordinary body-scanning and bag-searching operation, mounted by dozens of police, that delayed the start by 20 minutes).
Founded by the EMI producer Walter Legge so that his stellar roster of conductors could record choral pieces, this chorus did indeed produce stupendous discs under the likes of Klemperer and Giulini (not least the latter's Verdi Requiem). Then came a dip.
It has recently made a good recovery though I found it ominous that, for its own birthday party, its ranks should be boosted by a pickup choir (the "Philharmonia Voices") of 50 young professional singers.
Still, the combined ranks produced a thrilling sound. And if there's one piece that Riccardo Muti does with supreme drama, it's this. His pacing was impeccable, his control magisterial. And even in these larger-than-life circumstances he managed to elicit tenderness in the more intimate moments.
The Philharmonia Orchestra mostly played well one hazardous high violin moment excepted. I just wished the soloists had been more commanding. No complaints about Olga Borodina: in top form, with a majestic richness and power from top to bottom of her register, the Russian mezzo sang everyone else out of the cathedral.
But her compatriot Tatiana Serjan seemed nervy and lacked punch in the crucial soprano solos near the end, and the veteran tenor Giuseppe Sabbatini sounded parched in tone, though his artistry and commitment were admirable.
However, I liked the young Finnish bass Petri Lindroos: an intriguing Slavic tone, and lots of welly when it mattered.
