A mass that pleased the masses
For Mozart fans, last night’s concert by the SSO was a welcome and balanced blend of the master’s work.
There was an overture (Don Giovanni) a symphony (No.36 Lintz) and a mass (The Great C Minor). While the first two were easily digested, the mass was something of an endurance test – as masses usually are. But that didn’t stop a full house and a feeling of anticipation in the air as the audience settled in for an hour of spiritual uplift.
The concert got away to a light-hearted start with the overture to Don Giovanni. Although it begins with foreboding drama, it soon lightens up to a foot tapper. When it premiered in 1788, the musicians were virtually sight-reading the score since Mozart had finished writing it only that morning after a good nagging by Mrs Mozart.
Then to more serious stuff. Mozart’s Symphony No. 36 in C Major K. 425 was nicknamed The Lintz by Wolfgang because that was the town where he stopped at on his way from Saltsburg to Vienna in 1783. He dashed it off in only four days – typical of his habit of writing an entire work in his head before committing it to manuscript paper, where it usually reposed without subsequent alteration.
While it is in the standard four movements, Mozart raised the sonata form stakes, paving the way for development in his own compositions as well as those of others who came after.
Although not often heard, the symphony was an appealing work, indicated by applause between movements. I’m not comfortable with the practice, but it did indicate the enthusiasm of the audience. This was a precise and beautifully paced performance.
While the audience slipped into a holy mode during intermission, the Sydney Philharmonia Choirs filled the rear seats, followed by the arrival of conductor Masaaki Suzuki, and four soloists.
A multitude of composers, beginning in the 7th Century (and that’s up for debate) have written at least one mass – and contemporary composers are still writing them. Renowned pianist Stephen Hough, who does quite a bit of composing, has had a go. And so has Leonard Bernstein, Andrew Lloyd-Webber, Stravinsky, and Vaughan Williams – to name a few from a very long list. One popular form, the requiem mass, is still used today to give the dead a musical send-off. But the Mozart mass we heard last night (Mozart wrote 15 masses as part of his more than 600 works) was not about dying; just the opposite. Although Mozart didn’t finish it (large parts of the Credo and Agnus Dei were left for subsequent composers to fill in) many Mozartians consider it one of his greatest works. It was written in 1782 and, like most masses, is heard these days in secular orchestral concerts rather than cathedral services.
The Great Mass in C Minor, K.427 calls for the usual compact Mozart orchestra, double choir and four soloists. Needless to say, with so many mouths to feed, masses are not profitable. But they do inspire the highest aspirations of the composer and offer the listener a glimpse of the religious supernatural.
Last night’s concert was conducted by the highly acclaimed Masaaki Suzuki, who had to manage the output of the Sydney Philharmonic Choirs, Sara Macliver (soprano), Rachelle Durkin (soprano), Nicholas Jones (tenor), David Greco (baritone) – all glued together by the Sydney Symphony Orchestra. The well-whiskered Masaaki was fully occupied with more than 200 musicians to direct. He did so with energy and supreme confidence, forsaking the baton and relying on expressive hand directions. And the voices? To me, the women outshone the men, although the score was on their side with its more projectable upper register.
Even with the puce petals in place, I’ve previously found something to grizzle about when soloists, especially singers, struggle to be heard above an orchestra, plus, in this case, a double choir. Maybe the Almighty had a hand in it, but the perfect balance between the forces had me looking around for a mixing board. Who do we pat on the back for this? Maybe a team effort between the conductor, his assistant and the choir leaders Brett Weymouth and Elizabeth Scott. This is not to say the execution was perfect, but exultation carried the day.
Fraser Beath McEwing is a pianist, commentator on classical music performance and is a founding member of The theme & Variations Foundation which assists talented young Australian pianists. His professional background is in journalism, editing and publishing. He is also the author of five novels and a Governor of the Sir Moses Montefiore Home. A body of his work can be found on www.frasersblography.com