Beethoven Mass in D major: Gerard Schwarz, cond., Marina Mescheriakova, soprano, Robynne Redmon, mezzo-soprano, Marcus Haddock, tenor, Clayton Brainerd, baritone, Seattle Symphony Chorale, Seattle Symphony, Benaroya Hall, Seattle, 6.04.2007 (BJ)

 

Gerard Schwarz led a performance of the D-major Mass that you might call centrist. That is to say, although there was plenty of character, there were no eccentricities. But then, it occurs to me that the Mass is a work that curiously resists the differentiating effect of interpretative decisions–whatever the performers do, it retains its unique and very specific feeling and color. For example, although (uncharacteristically) Toscanini used to take the “consubstantialem patri” section of the Credo rather slowly and Klemperer played it much faster, their interpretations overall resulted in a very similar picture of the work. Contrast this with the case of the Ninth Symphony, where differing approaches to tempo, phrasing, articulation, and texture can produce results that hardly sound like the same composition.

What this means in effect is that, given adequate levels of orchestral playing and of solo and choral singing, and a conductor capable of welding these elements together with reasonable precision, the Mass, interpretatively speaking, can look after itself very nicely, thank you. Those components were all present on this occasion, so that the music made its points smoothly and effectively, and indeed seemed to pass by with remarkably pithy punctuality. Schwarz’s principal contribution was to ensure that the varying tempos of the more sectional movements–the Gloria and the Credo–meshed with each other like clockwork. Trained by George Fiore, the Seattle Symphony Chorale sang splendidly, with a range of tone and dynamics and a clarity of diction that flagged only once or twice in quieter fugal passages. The orchestral contribution was by turns brilliant and delicately polished, and a guest concertmaster–Peter McGuire, who is a member of the Minnesota Orchestra’s first-violin section–impressed enormously with his beautifully shaped solo in the Benedictus.

Of the four soloists, the soprano and tenor were replacements for the singers originally announced. Marcus Haddock projected the tenor solos strongly, and Marina Mescheriakova’s imposing voice, radiant in tone, grew in firmness of line as the evening progressed. They were well partnered by Robynne Redmon’s cleanly produced mezzo, and Clayton Brainerd deployed a magnificently solid baritone in the urgent pleadings of the Agnus Dei.

Altogether, then, this was an entirely worthy presentation of one of the accepted peaks in the choral-orchestral repertoire. Do you perhaps detect a certain lukewarmness in what is intended as a highly favorable review? If so, I think the cause lies with the work itself. Beethoven lovers may be shocked at what I am about to say–I myself am shocked, being a Beethoven lover in my own right–but the D-major Mass seems to me possibly the least completely successful creation of the composer’s last decade. No question, there are wonderful things in it, and things that no one else could have come within a mile of writing. But though the Agnus Dei, with its denouement in that extended and enormously varied Dona nobis pacem, is a conception of phenomenal imagination and originality, there is a whiff about it not so much of sophistication but of self-consciousness. You can almost hear Beethoven saying to himself, “Well, Haydn tried to bring the sounds of war into his Missa in tempore belli [premiered a couple of years after Beethoven had settled in Vienna], but surely there could be more subtle and profound ways of doing it.” Subtle and profound his solution certainly is. But Haydn’s treatment sounds to me more cohesive, more in keeping with the tone of his Mass as a whole. And as for the closing strains of Beethoven’s Dona nobis pacem–well, you can sense what he is aiming at in the way of sublime tenderness, but the actual melodic line he devised to carry that expression is hardly the most persuasive of inspirations. Brahms, I think, carried off a similar project with more success in the last movement of his German Requiem.

It may be that these comments will constitute lèse majesté in the eyes of Beethoven’s more uncritical devotees. They are put forward, however, to explain why I cannot bring myself to wax more lyrical in my response to the highly committed and convincing performance the Mass drew from Schwarz and his forces.

 

Bernard Jacobson