Carnegie Hall, New York; October 23, 2012—French-Canadian conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin courageously opted both to inaugurate his tenure as music director of The Philadelphia Orchestra and to make his Carnegie Hall debut leading the Verdi Requiem, a magnificent work about which all music lovers have an opinion. Is it theatre or is it religion? Well, Verdi, the greatest Italian opera composer who ever lived, was agnostic at least and a thorough unbeliever at most, but that certainly does not rule out the piety in his Requiem. Interpretations have varied: Carlo Maria Giulini took the devout route while Georg Solti led it as if it were the sequel to Aida. Nézet-Séguin managed to take in both views and satisfy even the thorniest of critics.
Throughout the performance, he remained utterly faithful to the score and its very specific dynamic markings: Pianpianissimi were hushed, fortfortissimi almost brought down the house, and everything in between was taken equally seriously. Rarely has this work been played without a flub from the brass complement or, for that matter, any of the players: this was that rare occasion. The superb Westminster Symphonic Choir, singing with excellent diction and great attention to the text, went from whispers to roars on a dime; their opening words, sung, as Verdi notated, “as quietly as possible,” spoke of sincere spirituality; the gigantic “Dies irae” was truly frightening in its theatrical and religious intensity. The intonation and ensemble work were impeccable; Nézet-Séguin took the “Sanctus” and the work’s final fugue at a remarkably fast clip—the latter a bit too manic, in fact (his only miscalculation), and the chorus remained precise and thrilling.
The quartet of soloists also sang their words with deep sincerity, particularly the two Russians, soprano Marina Poplovskaya and bass Mikhail Petrenko. They sounded like supplicants, occasionally choosing a clipped, hollow delivery, at other times soaring. Poplovskaya was somewhat under the weather, principally in the first half of the evening: her middle notes were quavery and her pitch tended to slip. She did, however, deliver some lovely phrases throughout, and her “Libera me” was a grand piece of singing, deeply felt.
Petrenko is billed as a bass but the voice seems more of a baritone; what he lacks in true resonance he makes up for in fluidity. British mezzo Christine Rice, who has only sung in New York once before, made you realize how fine Verdi’s writing for this part is—she sang with somewhat less drama than the others, but with superb, even tone. And finally, tenor Rolando Villazon, after a few years of vocal problems solved and then recurring, made a triumphant return to New York. The voice rang out clearly (even if he is, wisely, singing with slightly less muscle than previously) from top to bottom, his phrasing is always thoughtful, and his exquisite legato and long breaths the markings of a great artist.
Despite a complete lack of Italians (and only one Latin) involved, this performance was as movingly Verdian as we could want. An evening to remember and a fine impression of Nézet-Séguin in his new post, and a warm welcome to Carnegie Hall.
