American conductor Robert Shaw had an almost preternatural sense of timing. Like Mozart, whose last days were spent composing a Requiem, Shaw’s final weeks were spent preparing for performances and a recording of another Requiem–his own English adaptation of Brahms’ beloved masterpiece. As with Mozart’s work, this project, too, stood unfinished at its author’s death. It remained for others to do the necessary preparation and make the thoughtful and considerate assumptions about what the master would have wanted. From the outset, it’s clear that those in charge, from conductor Craig Jessop and his choral and orchestral forces to Telarc’s recording team, did the maestro proud in bringing his vision to completion. The singing is strong and clear and well balanced among sections and between chorus and soloists. There is a sincere sense of emotional commitment from all concerned; the soloists are good, the sound generally is successful in overcoming the acoustic challenges of the Mormon Tabernacle’s huge, unusual size and shape. The premise for this project is another issue. Throughout his career, Shaw struggled with the pros and cons of performing choral works in their original language. To me, with a few exceptions, there is no argument. Any good composer who sets a text is at least subconsciously hearing the sounds and rhythms of the language as certainly as he or she hears the individual sounds of instruments and rhythms of the music. There’s no great English substitute for the sheer phonetic power of “Denn alles Fleisch, es ist wie Gras” in the context of Brahms’ setting; and how do you compare the hair-raising force of “zu der Zeit der letzten Posaune” with “at the sound, the sound of the trumpet”? Although Shaw’s setting, based not on any direct German translation but rather on corresponding texts from the King James Bible, is faithful and well-considered, it’s also flawed and often ineffective for all of its good intentions. In Shaw’s (and everyone else’s) version there are just too many awkward moments where normal syllabic accents are thrown off. Instead of simply being more intelligible to English speakers, it just sounds like bad pronunciation. We’re also expected to accept language that, while perfectly grammatical in the original, is altered into an English expression that no one would ever say: “Blessed they,” for example. Why not just “Blest are they”? But more important, as this performance–by a very fine, disciplined, well-prepared choir–only confirms: Brahms’ writing does not ensure clear understanding of the words, no matter what language you use. Large portions of the text are overwhelmed by the orchestra, or are obscured by contrapuntal texture. With translations readily at hand, and with today’s generally well-educated performers and audiences, we don’t need to be spoon-fed our choral works in English in order for us to understand them. With all due respect to Shaw and his many dedicated musicians who worked long and hard on this project, I believe that this kind of time and money would be far better spent on creating modern editions of works that we rarely or never hear–or commissioning living composers to write new choral masterpieces. Although an English edition may save some choral conductors time in rehearsal, it also deprives singers of the uniquely satisfying experience of wrapping their voices around those indigenous vowels and consonants, of internally feeling their effect, and ultimately, of truly knowing the work.
