‘Manzoni’ a Difficult Task for Soloists

When we say Verdi’s “Manzoni” Requiem is operatic, what we actually mean is that it’s the most personal work of its kind.

The soloists are not given the names of characters in particular plots, as they are in operas. But they are characters nonetheless, stand-ins for you and me, in a drama that we are part of, whether we want to be or not.

The plot is simple. As sentient beings, we are aware that we will die. We face that moment with terror or hope of finding comfort or justice in a life to come.

Verdi’s genius is in personalizing--rather than abstracting--the lines of the Latin Requiem Mass expressing those and other human feelings.

So the challenges of performing this unparalleled work, which opened the Pacific Chorale’s 34th season under the skillful and well-thought-out direction of John Alexander on Sunday at the Orange County Performing Arts Center, go beyond the usual. Especially for the vocal quartet.

Beautiful singing alone, which we heard in part, doesn’t do it justice.

Verdi did warn against performing the Requiem--written to commemorate the death in 1873 of the beloved Italian patriot, Alessandro Manzoni--in too-operatic a style. What he might have had in mind was the kind of singing that draws attention to the singer rather than to the character.

That was a bit of the problem with tenor Philip Webb, who began the “Ingemisco” (I groan, like one who is guilty) by pushing an Italianate sobbing into his bright but somewhat constricted voice.

Apparently that took its toll. By the time of “hostias et preces tibi” (sacrifices and prayers unto thee)--one of the glories of the tenor repertory--he was singing with great strain and effort.

Baritone Stephen Bryant tried to personalize the text and began promisingly, rendering the word “mors” in the line “mors stupebit” (death will be astonished) with proper amazement. But over time his voice began to wear and turn gravelly, and his low notes became weak.

Mezzo-soprano Robynne Redmon paced herself more carefully. Her voice sounded bigger and fresher later in the work than it did in the beginning. But she was very cautious in dramatic expression.

Soprano Camellia Johnson sang with honeyed, ample tone and with smooth attacks, particularly in the heights. But she didn’t seem especially interested in the dramatic possibilities of the text, even in her critical final plea for salvation: “Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna, in die illa tremenda” (Deliver me, Lord, from death eternal on that dreadful day).

Almost by default, the drama fell to the well-prepared chorus, which sang with weight and power after a lovely hushed rendering of the opening section.

The Pacific Symphony played splendidly, with concertmaster Raymond Kobler and first violist John Acevedo, among other first desk players, contributing mightily to the effective sweep of the music.

Alexander opened the concert with a finely spun account of Randall Thompson’s five-minute a cappella Alleluia; a memorial to the victims of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.