Gergiev Conducts BRAHMS: Ein Deutsches Requiem (2010)
Performers: Solveig Kringelborn, soprano/Mariusz Kwiecien, baritone/ Swedish Radio Choir/Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra/ Valery Gergiev
Studio: BIS DVD-1750 [Distr. by Qualiton]
Video: 16:9 color
Audio: PCM Stereo
All regions
Length: 79:20
Rating: ****
After having directed the Rotterdam Philharmonic for twenty years, Valery Gergiev gave his farewell concert 25 May 2008 at de Doelen Concert Hall, Rotterdam, leading the Brahms German Requiem. The late conductor David Randolph, who died earlier this year, used to say that as he aged his performances of the Brahms Requiem became slower and slower: David would have admired this Gergiev rendition, among the lengthiest on record, along with the inscription by Fritz Lehmann.
The camera work, courtesy of Christian van Schermbeck, proves vigilant as the opening section, Selig sind, die da Leid tragen, progresses: the visuals mark the accents from the double basses, the color of the oboe, the deep gloss of the brass, the transparency of the harp, the contribution from each of the choral groups, and the expressivity of Gergiev’s hands and face, especially as he relinquishes the baton to shape the phrases manually. The deep valedictory atmosphere having been established, Gergiev prepares for the waltz-march of the second movement–Denn alles Fleisch es ist wie Gras–which, like the sixth movement, addresses Man’s mortality and the power of faith that resides in “the word of the Lord.”
Immediately, at the outset of the funereal march of Denn alles Fleisch. . ., we become aware of the change in the music’s color: the clarinets, trumpets, and violins had been absent in the first movement. Even muted, the violins proceed aggressively, the tympani’s underlining the tragic fate that awaits us all. The camera, correspondingly, pulls back at the fortissimo to embrace the entire ensemble. The color lightens, even with the bassoon, for the admonition to be patient until we receive “the morning and the evening rain.” The resurgence of the march rhythm eventually culminates in fortes that suggest the Last Trump; however, at “But the word of the Lord endureth. . .” the colors light up in contrapuntal ecstasy and swooping figures from the high woodwinds, the “ransomed of the Lord [having obtained] everlasting joy and gladness.” The horns, sopranos, and contrabassoon each add a distinctive color to the Good News.
Marked bass-fiddle accents open the deeply anguished meditation, “Herr, lehre doch mich. . .” sung by the Polish light baritone Mariusz Kwiecien, assisted by a plaintive chorus, a spasmodic desire to know Man’s fate and purpose, an insistence measured by the huge D pedal of faith that simply overpowers human vanity. The crux of the Brahms symmetrical structure comes in the pastoral fourth movement, “Wie lieblich sind deise Wohnungen,” an idyll to the Lord’s many mansions. The Swedish Radio Choir realizes these soothing conceits with a palpable delight, caressing the phrases in demure transparency. Norwegian soprano Solveig Kringelborn possesses a light “white” color in her voice, a throwback to Teresa Stich-Randall but with a more roseate hue, hints of Lucia Popp. With perhaps a touch of strain in the voice’s upper register, she delivers a message of spiritual consolation and deliverance taken from both John and Isaiah.
We have reached the point of greatest struggle, a movement meant to parallel the fierce march of the lachrymose second movement: “Denn wir haben hier keine bleibende Statt,” we have in this life no continuing city. Gergiev adopts at first a rather soft approach to this dire crisis, letting his baritone convey the doom of Last Judgment, although without any fire and brimstone. Instead, the “twinkling of an eye” of Revelation brings a victory over death, and the chorus can exult in the rhetorical, now cosmological, question, “Death, where is thy sting?” The final section of this massive, even martial, progression explodes in Handelian fervor, Brahms exulting in four-part counterpoint. Note the span of Gergiev’s left hand as he tries in gesture to embrace the world in one moment of grace.
At last, the benediction: “Selig sind die Toten” – blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. Gergiev clearly wants the duration to match the opening movement’s consolation to the living, the “fearful symmetry” of all Creation. Even the lighting of the set has darkened and deepened to accommodate the effect, the camera reaching inside the trombones and catching the pious light of oboe and flute. The subdued scale of musical values gives us an impression of a sacred motet. Almost in spite of the applause, Gergiev has been palpably moved.
–Gary Lemco
