MSO Performs Brahms’ Manifesto of Faith

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Photo via Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra - Facebook

MSO Brahms Requiem Promotional Image

A promotional image for the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra's 'Brahm's Requiem' performance featuring Dashon Burton.

I’m not a Christian, but I used to be. Ever since I sang in the chorus for a performance of Brahms’ Requiem in college, the piece has felt like an ideal manifesto for the faith. It repeatedly looks death in the eye, then affirms the glorious hope of life after death. Brahms’s use of hand-picked Biblical text in his native German instead of the Latin Requiem text makes it a more personal conception that soars on vivid text-painting. As a total package of text and music, it’s one of the great masterpieces of the Romantic era. The Milwaukee Symphony mounted this piece on the weekend before Easter, with bass-baritone Dashon Burton (this season’s artistic partner) and soprano Sonya Headlam.

At Sunday’s performance, I was distracted during much of the first movement by a persistent high-pitched mechanical sound from somewhere in the balcony. Thankfully it disappeared about halfway through, but it recurred a few other times and I never figured out what it was. I do remember Maestro Ken-David Masur pushing the tempo ahead during the section about “rejoicing,” and the best part was the coda. The little fragments passed around the orchestra, into the last chorus entrance—all thick, satisfying Brahmsian sound.

In the tragic march “Denn alles fleisch, es ist wie Gras” (For all flesh is as grass), Masur’s tempo was a tad fast. I understand if he was worried about dragging, but it changed the character a bit from inevitability to anxiety. I liked how the horns and the rest of the brass had more prominence in the buildup to the climactic statements. That first climax was shiver-inducing, as it should be. The chorus offered beautiful sound in the contrasting middle section, with particular polish on the last few notes. The recap of the beginning suffered from some imbalance; the orchestra buried the pianissimo tenors and basses. Transitioning into the fugue section, Masur and the forces onstage really hit their stride with a powerful ensemble sound. The whole fugue was excellent; I heard a smattering of applause after this movement, and honestly, I was all for it. If people can’t show spontaneous appreciation after a full chorus and orchestra have sung “They shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away,” then what are we doing here?

Dramatic Presence

Dashon Burton was a commanding dramatic presence in the third movement “Herr, lehre doch mich” (Lord, teach me). A few early notes rumbled in that bassy way, but by the second entrance I heard a full, heartfelt sound. The expressive chorus got buried by the orchestra in the agitated moments of “Now, Lord, what do I look for?” The ensuing transition moment was great, though, with beautiful singing. In the giant D major pedal fugue, the chorus and orchestra were just slightly out of sync at times, but mostly strong.

I had mixed feelings about “Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen” (How lovely are Thy tabernacles). Once again, I though Masur pushed the tempo too fast. And though the strings sounded wonderful, I lost a lot of detail from the tenors in their melodic moments.

I had really enjoyed Sonya Headlam’s performance in the MSO’s Carmina Burana last season (also featuring Dashon Burton). In “Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit” (Ye now therefore have sorrow), I found her sound more vibrato heavy than I remembered. For this gentle music, I could have used less. But as her solo developed, she became more rapturous, selling the big sound as she delivered the message of comfort.

“Denn wir haben hie” (For we have no enduring city) got off to a good start with a well-judged tempo and ensemble balance; I heard all the choral detail even at a low volume. Dashon Burton was even more dramatic and operatic here. He brought an amazing, hall-filling sound to the text “But we shall all be changed” and had some impressive long phrases. The apocalyptic sections zipped along, and the dramatic high point of the whole piece, “Oh hell, where is thy victory” hit just right. The final cadences leading into the fugue had a huge satisfying oomph. The chorus sang with commitment in the fugue, all the way up to the glorious final C major chord. I loved Masur’s final gesture.

Reflective Anticlimax

I like to think I know every note of this piece, but the seventh movement always tests me. It’s a bit of a reflective anticlimax after the preceding movement, completing an arch form to return to the quiet atmosphere of the beginning. In this performance, the softer choral moments glowed, and I noticed some sensitive work from the trombones. The final forte blossom in the ensemble was very nice.

Hearing this piece live can be an emotional experience, even to those who aren’t believers. Masur did a good job selling those heart-on-string moments and managing all the abrupt shifts within movements. My general nitpicks concern tempos and sound balance. Movements II and IV could have been a few clicks slower to really settle into their respective moods, and even the full forces of the MSO chorus couldn’t compete with a sometimes-overpowered Romantic orchestra.