A somber 'War Requiem' at PAC

by Mary Schiller
Special to The Tribune

When Thomas Davies stepped up to the Performing Arts Center podium Saturday evening to lead a performance of Benjamin Britten's "War Requiem," he ran into a slight snag. The music stand was empty.
     "I don't have the piece memorized," the conductor explained with a smile to the audience of more than 600. Understanding laughter rippled through the room, and when he returned to the stage, score in hand, he received a standing ovation from the musicians under his baton: soloists Cynthia Clayton, Jonathan Mack and Hector Vasquez; the Cuesta Master Chorale; the Central Coast Children's Choir, Poly-Phonics; and nearly 70 instrumentalists.
     In an evening of dark atonal music that underscores the futility of war, it was the one and only lighthearted moment, but it was not to be the only standing ovation.
     The origin of "War Requiem" dates to 1940, when German bombs destroyed the 14th-century Cathedral Church of St. Michael in Coventry, England. For two decades, the people of Coventry worked to build a new cathedral. Britten (1913-1976) was commissioned to compose a work commemorating the new church's consecration in 1962, and "War Requiem" premiered that year.
     Blending text from the Latin Mass with poetry by World War I poet Wilfred Owen, "War Requiem" demands that its performers sustain a mood of deep sorrow, broken only by the promise of resurrection provided by the Latin text. From the opening ominous chord until the final "Amen," the performers did not disappoint. All navigated Britten's atonal landscape with confidence, exploiting every dissonance to its fullest emotional advantage.
     Soprano Cynthia Clayton gave resonant, beautiful voice to the Latin passages, projecting contrition, grief and salvation when each was called for.
     Portraying both the poet Owens and a British soldier, tenor Jonathan Mack made the words live, his voice reflecting anger and despair mixed with a distant hope for peace. Baritone Hector Vasquez had a particularly moving moment at the end of "War Requiem" as a German soldier already killed, pleading for peace at least in death.
     In the one minor distraction of the evening, the Children's Choir's performance at first appeared to be recorded; their voices emanated from speakers suspended above the stage. The audience was, indeed, surprised to see them walk on-stage for a bow. It would have been nice to have them sing on-stage, as the speakers made their clear, pure voices sound somewhat tinny.
     More than a backdrop for the soloists, the choirs and instrumentalists served as the driving undercurrent that made this performance of "War Requiem" deserving of the standing ovation it received. Together, all of these musicians - singers and instrumentalists alike - created one voice that, in these violent times, bravely delivered Britten's anti-war message.

Printed in The Tribune, Tuesday, May 21, 2002