Remembrance Sunday. “What passing bells for those who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns……” so wrote Wilfred Owen, who did not survive himself. Even after a hundred years it’s been hard to disassociate the day from World War I. The poppy-fields, the Flanders mud, “Our lads – and “unsere Jungens” on the other side, who were dying too.
And what was the result? World War II.
It would be easy to fall into a pattern of just British music considered suitable for a Requiem on this occasion, but our music has always covered a wider world – Fauré, Verdi, Mozart and Brahms – all from countries affected by both wars. And James Sherlock continues this tradition with his expertise.
There is nothing even faintly bellicose in Fauré’s Requiem. It paints a gentle heaven, a loving God, and a place to be looked forward to without fear. And, for just a while, it can drown out the noise of the guns, which are never silent, as we know only too well – we have only to turn on our TV or open a newspaper.
Although it doesn’t exactly follow the sequence for a Mass – unlike the Duruflé Requiem which is used in the church every year for this reason, it is a manageable length to be incorporated into a funeral service if somebody wanted this to be done.
It was fortuitous that it was the Fauré Requiem that was being sung as, with no disrespect to the ladies who came and sang, who greatly outnumbered the gentlemen this year, with its heavy stress on higher voices it didn’t matter too much. David Moore accompanied the whole piece on the organ which also worked well, though of course it has a full orchestral score.
Martin Oxenham had a steady hand in his solos in “O Domino Jesu Christe” and the Libera Me, both of which benefitted from his clear diction (I think by now a lot of us have got a fair grip on these Latin texts). Baby angels (not those stout little Italian ones!) seem to hover over the flowing accompaniment of the Sanctus.
And, of course, there is the Party Piece – the Pie Jesu. It says a lot about Fauré’s approach that he has here written something which can be sung by a child – or in this case, a teenager – Evelyn Fitzpatrick – who made a charming sincere job of it.
In Paradisum, which concludes the piece, in contrast to the purposeful sound of the Agnus Dei, lets you float towards heaven, perfectly confident that you will arrive safely – which you do.
We had, as well, Brahms’ “Geistliches Lied” which those of us attended the concert a week before, with the English Chamber Orchestra, had just heard. The choir coped very well with the German text – and at least in the great “Amen” they could let themselves finish off the work in the most stately manner.
It was the Fauré which concluded our evening. There shall be wars, and rumours of wars, as long as we are around, but it could be said that the visual imagery has changed from trenches to groups of refugees running…. running ….. running……
The world for them has no Paradise till they can find a home.
World War I was sadly not the War to end Wars – and neither was World War II.
Faure Requiem
Suzanne Pinkerton