The late Robert Shaw was alive and well tonight as Santa Rosa Symphony
music director Jeffrey Kahane conducted Britten's "War Requiem" in a
memorable, moving performance.

Two decades ago, Shaw presided over a "Festival of Mass" in San Francisco's
St.  Mary Cathedral.  The very young Kahane was his rehearsal pianist for
the Britten, and he fell in love with the work.

As a culmination of years of work, Kahane has organized large musical
forces in this small rural community of orchards and farmland 60 miles
north of San Francisco, including a 170-member chorus and an orchestra of
80.  He then signed up Thomas Quasthoff as the baritone soloists, one of
Shaw's most often used sopranos, Janice Chandler; and when James Taylor
fell ill, he got Richard Clement, another Shaw regular, as the tenor
soloist.

Kahane and the SR Symphony have also pulled together a War Requiem project
in the city's schools, resulting in elementary and high school study and
presentations about the issue of war -- in an unfortunately timely
coincidence with breaking news stories.

Noble intentions nothwithstanding, how about the central question:  can a
small regional orchestra of meager resources, using a high school chorus
(and two community choruses), give an adequate performance of the terribly
complex, demanding and large Britten Requiem?

The answer is no.

There was nothing adequate about tonight's performance.  It was far
above that standard in every way.  If there were any Beckmessers in
Luther Burbank Center, they might have counted instances of sluggish
tempi, shaky balances, an out-of-tune organ, etc.  But music lovers
rejoiced in a wonderful, moving performance.  These are the requirements of
such:  commitment, abandon, fearlessness, and the greatest among these is
passion.  It was passion that permeated the hall tonight and carried away
performers and the audience.

It took some doing to get to the happy end of genuine, well-deserved
ovations, flowers, tears, hugs, etc.  The beginning was rather
surrealistic:  a junior prom night (the chorus mingling in the lobby,
in tux and gown) interrupted by a mock funeral procession (part of the
war-studies project); duo-tone goats grazing outside the concert hall;
local audience dressed to the max, with visiting San Franciscans in their
usual "casual" attire (which doesn't look half as good as the tan-and-white
goats).

Those who are worried (correctly) about the gray-and-white American concert
audience would have been heartened to see some 1,000 elementary and high
school students participating in the daytime dress rehearsal.  Sure, they
whispered and went back and forth between the safety of the lobby and the
weird music inside the hall, but they were *there*...  and could see and
hear their contemporaries on stage.  They also giggled and made faces at
the initial shock of seeing the severely deformed Quasthoff struggle to
get up on a chair, but in a few minutes, they were all captivated by the
baritone's incredible concentration and total dedication to his work, as
well as by his passionate participation and enjoyment.

The evening performance began with a cautiously slow, but
attention-commanding Requiem, orchestra and chorus providing a hushed,
deeply felt performance.  Clement's opening solo -- "What passing bells" --
was his best the whole performance; he maintained exemplary clear diction
throughout, but the voice is not particularly strong or interesting.
Following the verve and snap of the (*high school*!!) chorus in the Dies
Irae, Quasthoff had his first solo, "Bugles sang."

He is a wonder:  a warm, solid voice, full of colors, projected
effortlessly, musically always accurate, conveying layers of feelings.  His
diction in English is marginal, but the force of his presentation makes
that *almost* a moot issue.  Still, it would be so much better to hear
"bugls," rather than "bugels."

When Chandler started "Liber scriptus proferetur," it was a shock:  her
voice "live" is so different from what you hear on records -- it's big,
vibrant, colorful, with a fine edge.  She is the last singer in the world
who needs amplification but she was, for shame.  There was some kind of
"enhancement" going on, resulting in Chandler often and Quasthoff now
and then producing an echo, and the sound was clearly coming from two
directions:  the singer and the speakers above them.  This is wrong,
very, very wrong.  But Chandler is right, very right.  With the possible
exception of some weakness in the mid-range, she has a fabulous voice,
and is uniquely secure in powerful high notes.

However more I would have liked to hear Taylor, the truth is that Clement
and Quasthoff sounded just fine together:  they blended their voices well
in "Out there" of the Rex Tremendae, and "So Abram rose" in the
Offertorium.

I have heard the Santa Rosa Symphony, but never like this; the musicians
were on fire tonight.  Britten is so hard on brass instruments:  there was
nothing flubbed and the players were hanging 10 after 10.  The woodwinds
shined, especially Roy Zajac (clarinet) and Karla Ekholm (bassoon).
Dara Saffer and Joseph Edelberg, concertmasters of the chamber and large
orchestra, respectively, led the violins to glory.  Cellos, basses, harp
(Michael Rado), timpani and percussion all turned in best-ever
performances.  It was one of those nights.

Quasthoff's noble heldenbaritone-with-lyricism moved to tears in "Be
slowly lifted up" and "After the blast of lightning" of the Sanctus.  The
concluding Libera Me was an extended emotional high, from the chorus to the
tenor to the baritone to the children's chorus to the deeply moving "Amen"
and then some 30 seconds of silence -- the greatest possible expression of
audience understanding and appreciation.  I don't think I have ever seen
emotions running so high on stage after a performance, but good for Kahane
and his forces:  they all well deserved the tears of happiness shed in
public.  It was an extraordinary evening.  There is one more performance
Thursday evening; maybe lightning will strike twice.

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