This is an online only review - no other format is available.
Permission is granted to print and distribute this review in any format.

The New Jersey Symphony Orchestra, Bernard Labadie, conductor with soprano Karina Gauvin, mezzo-soprano Christine Abraham, tenor Colin Balzer, bass-baritone Nathan Berg and the Westminster Choir. "Many Faces of Mozart Festival: Mozart and the Voice" Excerpts from The Magic Flute, Masonic Funeral Music and the Requiem (as completed by Robert Levin). Prudential Hall, Newark.

Whether any new light was cast on Mozart or his music remains questionable. But the "Mozart and the Voice" concert was a highly enjoyable and well-performed second installment in the winter festival celebrating the composer's 250th birthday.

All who played or sang were wonderful, right from the opening chords of the "Overture" to The Magic Flute. The orchestra projected a rich warm tone and a clear and precise energy to every phrase and melodic moment. The overture was followed by three selections from the opera, two of Papageno's popular arias nicely sung with appropriate spirit by bass-baritone Nathan Berg, who captured all the verve and élan of the character as he proclaimed himself "Der Vogelfänger" and as he searched for "Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen." Pamina's heart-rending "Ach, ich fühl's" was sung by soprano Karina Gauvin with a pure and beautiful beauty, smoothly conveying Mozart's delicate yet emotionally charged setting of Shikaneder's text. The orchestra accompanied with equal zest.

The concert's short first half concluded with a reverently rendered performance of Mozart's little known Masonic Funeral Music, sung by the men of the Westminster Choir with the orchestra.

While the performances were truly wonderful and enjoyed by all, one's full feeling for the afternoon depended on whether one agreed with conductor Bernard Labadie's early music approach. Clarity, precision and an obvious awareness and interest in the latest ideas of early music performance research were evident in every clearly conducted measure. While this did lend an admirably crisp and extremely well played quality, it also tended to lie within a somewhat narrow expressive range. For those who prefer their Mozart filled with charm and elegance, every aspect of Labadie's interpretation was sheer delight. However, for those who prefer a bit more theatrical emotionality, it was a tad on the dry side. Pamina's aria was very well done, but could have had more of a sense of despair. Berg's voice was magnificent and the orchestra played beautifully with him, but there wasn't the sense of innocent fun that usually surrounds Papageno.

All of which brings us to the major work of the program - Mozart's Requiem, heard here not in the traditional Süssmayr completion but in the 1994 completion by Robert Levin. Concentrating first on the performance itself, one has nothing but praise. The Westminster Choir was superb, singing with beauty and passion. Every entrance was crystal clear while the polyphonic web flowed with energy. The orchestra handled the largely accompanimental role with equal beauty and melodic fluidity. Berg and Gauvin were joined by mezzo-soprano Christine Abraham and tenor Colin Balzer to form an exquisite quartet. As with the choir and the orchestra, one has only superlatives to hand out for their performance.

Which leads us back to Labadie's interpretive approach to the score. As with the operatic excerpts, one either relished the grace, charm, elegance, and (suitably in this instance) reverence, or one missed a more emotional involvement. Here though, it is much more difficult to discuss a lack of theatricality since it is such a deeply-felt work of sacred music never intended to be heard as a "work" in and of itself but as part of a larger ritual with a very serious purpose. Yet, it seems clear that it was a certain Count Wolsegg who actually, if in rather strange and mysterious fashion, commissioned the piece. Whether he intended it to be passed off as his own as part of a memorial service or in a private concert of sorts at his palace isn't documentationally clear. At the same time, overt theatricality was a criticism of Austrian church music (as it was in some other corners of eighteenth century Europe). So, one wonders if an "objective" and totally "reverent" approach would indeed be as fully in period style as would be nuanced articulations. Perhaps a touch of theatrical expression would have further enhanced the performance.

In our modern reality, there is no answer. In the end, it comes down to a matter of taste. Considering how wonderfully the Requiem] was played, sung, and conducted, probably such matters are best left to the discussions of musicologists. For those in attendance, the music sang and sparkled and moved greatly.

Opinion

To Süssmayr or Not to Süssmayr? a look at completions.

Regarding the Requiem, I would like to add a few words on the edition. This was the first time I'd heard the Levin edition since I intensely studied and conducted the work myself in its more familiar Süssmayr incarnation. There is no question that the Süssmayr version contains passages that are clumsily written and that some passages could work more effectively. But I'm not sure that the Levin version is actually a total improvement. Which is not to knock Levin's contribution. It is well thought out and very well-composed. While Süssmayr sometimes overly orchestrated passages and can, as has been argued, sound rather thick, Levin went a little to the other extreme and sometimes sounds rather un-Mozartean leanness. This, however, is hard to determine entirely from the performance due to Labadie's preference for a somewhat leaner sound and approach to texture.

Just how much of the Süssmayr version is genuine Süssmayr and how much is Süssmayr based on Mozart's actual notes, sketches or verbal instructions has been debated since the work first appeared in completed form. Though rarely part of such discussions, one must determine how much of what Süssmayr put into the printed score that was not actually dictated directly from Mozart but might have been taken from standard practice. One aspect of this could be the writing for the trombones. How much should they in fact play before greatly thickening the texture? Even where Süssmayr fleshed out the doubling on his own, it is plausible that Mozart might have expected it even if he didn't indicate it in a document. Trombones had a long tradition of doubling or even substituting for voices in church services. Obviously, the question is quite complex and probably without a possible definitive answer that would please everybody.

So, let's now concentrate on two areas that are fully Levin: The Amen concluding the "Dies Irae" and the transition to the concluding repeat of the opening material at the close of the "Agnus Dei." Are these sections well-written? No question. The Amen fugue is exciting, vibrant and provides a more full conclusion than does Süssmayr's pedestrian single cadence. For me, though, the long fugue sounded far removed from something Mozart would have done. Rather it sounded like a very well-written fugue inserted by a twentieth century neo-classic composer adopting eighteenth century stylistic tendencies. It is a good fugue, but not really a great fugue and does not stand up in comparison with the one Mozart wrote for the "Kyrie" and repeated in the "Cum Sanctus Tuis." Some say it is highly likely Mozart would have written a fugue at this point. In fact, however, he did not, whether because he died before he got around to it or because he wasn't certain he wanted one there. Mozart had an impeccable sense for musical balance and its effect on the larger whole. To my taste, the addition of the full-blown fugue extends the movement a little too long.

More controversial for me is the transition in the "Agnus Dei." Again, the writing is truly beautiful and effective. But, the style feels so fully rooted in the late twentieth century, it feels a little less like an insertion and more like an intrusion. The stylistic difference at this point was more jarring than is Süssmayr's mediocrity.

Having studied the Süssmayr version and now having heard but admittedly not studied the Levin version, I still find myself aligned with those who accept Süssmayr's lack of brilliance and feel he based his input on now lost notes, sketches and discussions with Mozart himself. While some passages are admittedly less than fully satisfying, they never really sound horrid. In addition, while the Süssmayr movements might sag in spots, they remain consistently in stylistic character with the whole.

Again, because I've conducted the work shortly after having conducted several other late Mozart works - including the final three symphonies, the Clarinet Concerto, The Magic Flute and Cosi fan Tutte - I don't really find some of Süssmayr's orchestral figures as un-Mozartean as some scholars and critics claim them to be. For me, one test is the "Benedictus." The movement is exquisite and any alteration would really be just a change or another way of looking at the text rather than an improvement. If this movement was even a little bit of pure Süssmayr and no Mozart at all, I have to wonder why it is so good and why he was never able to match the beauty and the delicate balance of all elements of the setting. On this issue, I must admit to not knowing much, if indeed any, of Süssmayr's own music. My
guess, however, is he did not ever achieve elsewhere anything close to what he achieved here. The only explanation I can think of for that is that there must have been in fact more Mozart in there than can be known from strictly documented sources.

With any performance, ultimate decisions must be made by those doing the performing. Levin's edition has a great deal of wonderful music deserving to be heard - a value in an of itself. Whether it actually brings the world any closer to a fully satisfying Mozartean version of the Requiem, however, is as debatable as trying to determine with full confidence how much of what is labeled as by Süssmayr is actually Süssmayr himself.

For me, the stylistic continuity of the Süssmayr version makes it preferable to the Levin, even if one would concede that Levin's writing is more interesting in some passages.

---

Return to CNJS Home Page | Return to Reviews Table of Contents