It has been 15 years since Riccardo Muti last returned to the Philharmonia Orchestra, and very much longer since he last conducted Verdi’s Requiem with them, so this concert should have been something special. That it had both elements of greatness and something missing should perhaps be inevitable – no performance of this great work is ever going to be perfect – but it was a considerably finer achievement than the one I last heard with this orchestra in 2023 conducted with its current principal conductor, Santtu-Matias Rouvali.
In that review I wondered whether Italian conductors simply do this requiem better than non-Italians, or even if we are simply no longer in a golden age of great performances of this work. There was certainly much in Riccardo Muti’s interpretation that was tellingly operatic, although more from the viewpoint or perspective of the detail from a conductor schooled in opera rather than the scale of what we often heard. Was this a sacred performance, however? I probably think not. But then nor was it the kind of ‘Reformation’ one that Rouvali had given us that strived to be neither of those things and that tore down all kinds of architectural foundations in a work that is very much built up on the grandest of structures.
Muti has certainly got slower with age (a pretty recent Bruckner 8th in Salzburg clocked in at close to 100-minutes) but he’s also capable of melding that grandeur with fire. If great Italian conductors came to mind, then this performance felt like a fusion of Victor de Sabata and Arturo Toscanini – certainly not inconsistent with how this work can be interpreted; it also made for 90-minutes of blazing intensity that, sometimes, hung fire.
The opening ‘Introit and Kyrie’ was taken slowly (common today) but what was so beautiful about it was the extreme dynamic shading of it: at times the Philharmonia were almost inaudible, the choir breathtaking as if floating above the line. Here at least the quartet of soloists were in unison, even if they were not to be elsewhere. The Dies Irae arrived with shocking power – Muti’s downbeat as powerful and fast as I ever heard it done in concert, the first ‘d’ on the “Dies” from the chorus hammered down like one vast nail. Timpani were fabulous (a bass drum shuddering and rolling like an earthquake), trumpets considerably louder than one is perhaps used to. Often Muti veered towards the colossal rather than the understated.
The ‘Tuba mirum’ was perfectly judged, and then we got a beautifully done ‘Mors stupebit’ from the bass (William Thomas, replacing Ildebrando d’Arcangelo). Thomas may well be young – and possibly slightly overawed by the occasion – but there was no doubting the quality of the voice, nor its considerable breadth. I found nothing especially light about Thomas – indeed, he was able to reach the low notes of the Confutatis with considerable skill, colour his voice to the tone and timbre of the orchestra and feel his way through the text with great precision. Perhaps he doesn’t have the very darkest of basses but the voice was rich in depth nevertheless.
Unquestionably impressive was the tenor of Piotr Beczała. His ‘Ingemisco’ was astonishing for both its power and its ability to caress high notes with precision (a gorgeous high C), but his range belies a volume that easily rides full pelt through the orchestra. In the ‘Offertorio’ he was perhaps the standout soloist. Elīna Garanča was stunning in the ‘Liber scriptus’ where the text was handled with such vivid colour and gorgeous tone. The breadth of the voice was huge; the range and nuances capable of matching those of the orchestra to perfection. Often she felt paradoxically spiritual in a performance which distinctly eschewed it. Only the soprano of Marie Lys fell short, although the problem here was volume rather than an inability to strike the notes which she rarely failed to do. Her ‘Libera me’ quivered a little, but equally there was a sharpness to it, the precision of the top notes finely done – one just couldn’t really hear them above the chorus and orchestra.
Where, I think, this performance scaled true heights was in the orchestra and chorus. Muti’s concern for individual detail was often a revelation: the off-stage trumpets, the use of a cimbasso, the attention to dynamics. This was an extreme performance in some ways with orchestral outbursts that were often deafening – trumpets that were declaring the Day of Judgement, an exaggerated bassoon, double bass pizzicato that exploded like blossom. And yet, violins could be beyond sweet (though never saccharine), cellos could be hushed, basses deep but in the softest of tones. Likewise, the choral singing was absolutely first rate: a superlative ‘Tuba mirum’, gorgeous altos throughout, and a memorable ‘Rex tremendae’.
In part it was the balance of the performance which perhaps gave the impression of this being one that was a little incomplete: so much rehearsal time had been spent on details, one forgot about the interpretation of the requiem. Perhaps in the end this didn’t matter. This hardly seemed important when the performance Muti gave us seemed both ravishing and quintessentially fresh. And for that, it will remain a memorable concert.
Marc Bridle
Giuseppe Verdi: Messa da Requiem in memory of Alessandro Manzoni
Marie Lys (soprano); Elīna Garanča (mezzo-soprano); Piotr Beczała (tenor); William Thomas (bass), Philharmonia Chorus; Philharmonia Orchestra; Riccardo Muti, conductor
Royal Festival Hall, London, 27 March 2025
Photo: © Mark Allen