This no-nonsense, quickly-paced Verdi Requiem (77 minutes as opposed to, say, Muti’s 89) solves the problem of whether to perform it as either an opera set to religious texts or as a work of devotion, by simply playing it as a terrific piece of music. This is not a compliment: conductor Philippe Jordan leads with remarkable competency but without depth. Where is the blood, thunder, and innate “Italian-ness” of this work?
The recent Barenboim set was hell-bent on exploring and exploiting Verdi’s demanding dynamic markings and emotional content, and Pappano’s is even better at finding the drama—both religious and operatic—in the work. I’m not opposed to Jordan’s quick tempos, although certain moments seem almost comic (the “Quam olim Abrahae” sometimes feels like a “round” sung by children), and the Hostias in general lacks mystery—and, eventually, beauty. You begin to think that the orchestra and chorus were rehearsed apart from the soloists and that they only met once before the performance.
Jordan seems to lose concentration every so often: there are sloppy spells in the “Sanctus” where the up-and-down strings are working by rote near the end, and the re-entrance of “Dies irae” in the Libera me is about as matter-of fact as it can be in this music. The subtle bits go by un-spotted; somehow only bass Ildar Abdrazakov (also the soloist in the recent superb Muti performance) gets the gist and sings his text with attention. The splendid tenor Piotr Beczala’s handsome tone is appreciated, but his solos happen and you wonder where they went.
It says something that the Lux aeterna, wherein three solo singers are left to themselves for half the movement, is most effective. The women are good enough, with Violeta Urmana happily back in her mezzo range, and Kristin Lewis varying between impressive and ordinary, with hints of shrillness. She can float a high tone well but while she has the notes, the low notes lack potency and in the middle of the voice pitch can waver. She’s an unfinished artist, her voice is a size too small for this work, and she’s tense and unappealing under pressure.
Were we in Paris on June 10th and 11th when this was recorded live, we would have left musically satisfied and probably gone out for a nice coffee and discussed something else. Now we can just go for a nice coffee and not quite recall an okay, unimpressive Verdi Requiem.
