Fiona Maddocks 

The week in classical: Prom 37: Britten’s War Requiem; The Turn of the Screw – review

Britten’s explosive work is a rallying cry at the Proms, while a twilit production of his chamber opera feels properly ghostly
  
  

Tenor Allan Clayton, with the London Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Antonio Pappano, at Prom 37.
‘Utmost restraint’: tenor Allan Clayton, with the London Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Antonio Pappano, at Prom 37. Photograph: Chris Christodoulou

Whatever Queen Victoria had in mind for her grand “arts and sciences” amphitheatre, no event better celebrates the Royal Albert Hall than a great Prom: massed voices and children’s choir, soloists, full orchestral forces, organ, arena jammed with standing promenaders, every seat in the auditorium taken. Whether by design or logistics, last weekend’s performance of Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem – performed by the London Symphony Orchestra, London Symphony Chorus, BBC Symphony Chorus and, hidden high up in the gallery, Tiffin Boys’ Choir, conducted by Antonio Pappano – fell at the halfway point of the 2024 season. It was a sharp reveille. In the drowsy dog days of mid-August, we can almost forget that the Proms are finite: now, just three weeks left. Nothing should be taken for granted about this monumental concert series, which will spread its wings to Bristol (this weekend), Newport, Belfast, Aberdeen and Nottingham before the Last Night finale.

The War Requiem (1962) was first heard at the Proms a year after its composition. It was written for another place: the consecration of Basil Spence’s new Coventry Cathedral, built after its 14th-century predecessor was destroyed by German bombing in November 1940. Britten took to heart the forging of ancient and modern, gothic arches and tracery next to the sleek sandstone folds and tucks of the new building. In response, he interwove the Missa pro defunctis (Mass for the Dead) with poems by Wilfred Owen, killed in action in the first world war. The result, conjuring the volleys and explosions of warfare, is a highly personal version of a requiem, its anti-war message forceful, its musical impact arresting. The work was not always well received. Britten’s tonal style was at odds with the time. (Hard to imagine how tweedy it must have sounded in an early 60s preoccupied with the Beatles at one extreme and John Cage and Stockhausen at the other.)

The enormous forces required, including main orchestra and chamber orchestra, present every conceivable challenge of balance and coordination for performers and conductor (usually two, here only Pappano, who needed no help). The work’s structure switches from communal to private. Choral voices and soprano (Natalya Romaniw) sing the Latin mass, and represent mourning voices back home. Tenor (Allan Clayton) and baritone (Will Liverman), accompanied by the chamber orchestra, are two soldiers. Capable of the softest, most ethereal delivery, Clayton sang “Move him into the sun” with the utmost restraint, growing in agitation, and volume, as the soldier speaking realises his friend is dead.

When Romaniw joined in with her “Lacrimosa” refrain, a repeated, weeping fall, sung from high at the rear of the orchestra, two worlds met in an agony of lament. Liverman, in his Proms debut, was effective in his exchanges with Clayton, especially in their valedictory duet, “Let us sleep now”, followed by the serene “In paradisum”. Countless moments stand out: sinister brass fanfares, muffled drum rolls, eloquent solo string quartet, terrific choral outbursts, beautifully drilled children’s voices. Worth listening to again (on BBC Sounds), or watching on iPlayer. The camerawork is quite baffling but it will give you the idea, and plenty of leisure to sample the Albert Hall’s acoustic mushrooms from many angles.

There was more Britten last week, in a smaller amphitheatre: the open-air, 300-seater that is used by the lively Waterperry opera festival, Oxfordshire, which has just completed its seventh season. The youthful team running it are justly proud of their statistics: 32 different productions since 2017; 17,500 attenders, 456 artists employed. An emphasis on young talent, with internships and training, gives the event an atmosphere of infectious, can-do energy. A new production of The Turn of the Screw made compelling use of the theatre’s stepped aisles and stone arch, and of the fading light, to create the ghostly uncertainties of Britten’s 1954 opera based on Henry James’s novella.

Conducted by Waterperry’s music director, Bertie Baigent, and directed by Rebecca Meltzer, this staging relied on few props and immense confidence on the part of the excellent cast to perform, closeup, with deft physicality. Aspects of the story were more than usually developed: the spooky relationship between Quint (Robin Bailey) and Miss Jessel (Siân Dicker); the erotic subtext between Quint and the boy, Miles; complex involvement of the housekeeper, Mrs Grose (Georgia Mae Ellis); the fears of the Governess (Charlotte Bowden).

Above all, the two children, teenagers Beth Burdge (Flora), a member of the National Youth Choir of Great Britain, and Ivo Clark (Miles), who has already performed at the Royal Opera House and English National Opera, are among the best I have seen. Next year’s festival will be announced in the autumn. It is attached to a smart garden centre, coolly unworried about its wares after dark. It’s tempting to snaffle a large urn on your way out but I resisted.

Prom 37: Britten’s War Requiem ★★★★★
The Turn of the Screw
★★★★


 

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