Friday, may 23, 2025 at 7:30PM
Saturday, May 24, 2025 at 7:30PM
Ohio Theatre

BRitten WAR REQUIEM
MASTERWORKS  12

ROSSEN MILANOV, CONDUCTOR
ABIGAIL RETHWISCH, SOPRANO
JONATHAN BURTON, TENOR
ANDREW GARLAND, BARITONE
COLUMBUS SYMPHONY CHORUS
STEPHEN CARACCIOLO, CHORUS DIRECTOR
COLUMBUS CHILDREN’S CHOIR
JEANNE WOHLGAMUTH, DIRECTOR
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
This concert is dedicated to the memory of
Mark and Annie Bates by their loving family:
Deborah, Hiroshi, Ken, Bryan, and Emily Yoshino

Operating Support Generously Provided by

War Requiem (1962) 
by Benjamin Britten (Lowestoft, England, 1913 – Aldeburgh, 1976) 

It is not a Requiem to console the living; sometimes it does not even help the dead to sleep soundly.  It can only disturb every living soul, for it denounces barbarism more or less awake in mankind with all the great authority that a great composer can muster.  There is no doubt at all, even before next Wednesday's performance, that it is Britten's masterpiece. 

These words, by the English critic William Mann, appeared in the London Times on May 25, 1962, five days before the War Requiem received its first performance in the newly restored cathedral of the city of Coventry.  After the premiere, critics and audiences alike were deeply moved by this passionate plea against war, expressed in a piece of music of surpassing beauty.  In the 63 years that have elapsed since then, the Requiem has entered the international repertoire as one of the greatest choral works from the second half of the 20^th century. 

The exceptional impact of the War Requiem has many reasons, musical, historical, and philosophical.  It was commissioned by the Coventry Cathedral Festival, intended to be performed in that stunning piece of modern architecture designed by Basil Spence, and erected next to the ruins of the old cathedral destroyed in World War II.  This enterprise involved the participation of many prominent artists. 

Britten had long wanted to compose a large-scale choral work, something that all important British composers had done before him.  The commission gave him an opportunity not only to do that, but also to express his life-long pacifist beliefs.  (Both he and his life partner Peter Pears had been registered as conscientious objectors during the war.)  He decided to compose a setting of the Latin Mass of the Dead, interspersed with some of the war poems of Wilfred Owen.  Tragically killed in action at age 25 just a week before the armistice that ended World War I, Owen left a small body of poetry that denounced the war in extremely powerful terms.  The poet achieved iconic status in the decades after his death.  His work had demonstrably influenced Michael Tippett when he wrote his own libretto to the war oratorio A Child of Our Time, another work in whose premiere Peter Pears sang the tenor solo. 

In combining medieval Latin liturgy with modern anti-war poetry, Britten had an important model in Ralph Vaughan Williams's Dona nobis pacem.  Yet Britten exploited the dramatic contrasts between the two kinds of text more fully than his older colleague had done.  He didn't always separate them neatly in alternating movements but often made them clash directly within the same movement, carefully selecting the passages from the Owen poems that created particularly strong resonances with specific lines of the liturgical text. 

Britten had a personal stake in the composition, a fact that is apparent from its dedication in memory of four friends, three of whom had been killed in the war; the fourth, also a war veteran, committed suicide in 1959.  The four names listed on the first page of the score—Roger Burney, Piers Dunkerley, David Gill, and Michael Halliday—stand as four tombstones representing many more graves, marked and unmarked, of victims of the war. 

Britten was one of the great opera composers of the 20^th century and like his operas, the War Requiem is filled with an urgent sense of drama.  In this, he followed Verdi, whose own Requiem is also frequently described as operatic.  There are even some direct resemblances between the two works, for instance in the way Britten, like his predecessor, has the chorus whisper the word “Requiem” in unison at the beginning of the work.  Yet in Britten's Requiem, the tenor solo immediately interrupts the choral whispering as, accompanied by the agitated figurations of the harp and a nervous motif in the strings, he intones Owen's poignant line “What passing-bells for those who die as cattle?”   

Here as throughout, the Latin text is sung by the chorus and the soprano solo, and Owen's words by the tenor and baritone.  The liturgy is often accompanied by the full orchestra and the poetry by a chamber ensemble.  Some of the most moving moments in the piece, however, have no orchestral participation at all:  the first movement ends with a series of otherworldly chords sung by the unaccompanied chorus in triple pianissimo, punctuated only by two bell strokes.  The same music will return two more times, at important junctures in the work. 

At the beginning of the “Dies irae,” the horn calls of the Last Judgment, in free rhythm, contrast with the relentless march rhythm of the chorus.  The baritone solo answers the choral “Tuba mirum” with a poem about military bugles. The Day of Judgment, one realizes, will not take place in some uncertain, mythical future.  Rather, it has already arrived on the battlefield. 

The soprano makes her first entrance with “Liber scriptus,” to an angular melody in dotted rhythm, accompanied only by wind instruments.  The apocalyptic vision is linked to a modern one, in which the soldiers recognize in Death an “old chum” whom they do not fear, though the rhythmic and harmonic clusters of the music and the persistent percussion ostinatos seem to suggest otherwise.  The intimate “Recordare,” a prayer for salvation sung by female voices, is countered by the men's breathless “Confutatis,” in which the words “Oro supplex” are marked “weeping” in the score.  The baritone soloist's next poem, “Be slowly lifted up,” is a stunning evocation of a gun just about to be fired.  It naturally leads into the fortissimo restatement of the opening “Dies irae” with its relentless asymmetries. 

The achingly beautiful “Lacrimosa,” for soprano solo with chorus, is fused with “Move him into the sun,” a wrenching memorial for a fallen soldier.  At the end, a few a cappella chords send up a quiet but fervent prayer for the end of all suffering. 

Even with the interpolation of the Owen poems, the “Dies irae” basically follows the traditional outline of this section of the Requiem, with depictions of horror alternating with introspective moments.  In the “Offertory,” Britten's approach is much more radical.   A rather large portion of the text is delivered in a chant-like fashion by the boys' choir (which we first heard in the first movement).  Britten singles out one line, “Quam olim Abrahae promisisti et semini ejus” (“which Thou didst promise Abraham and his seed”) for a much more extensive treatment, with the chorus singing the line to a vigorously rhythmic theme.  This reference to Abraham allowed Britten to insert Owen's bitter retelling of Abraham and Isaac's story from Genesis here.  The composer linked the two sections by the use of the same musical motif which, actually, comes from the choral canticle Abraham and Isaac written in 1952.  In Owen's version, Abraham does not heed the voice of God's angel and does not see the ram in the thicket.  Instead, he goes through with the sacrifice of his son.  While the two male soloists relate this shocking turn of events, Britten, significantly, brings in the boys' choir with “Hostias,” which gives the word “sacrifice” a whole new meaning. 

The soprano soloist intones the “Sanctus,” the proclamation of God's holiness, to an accompaniment of percussion instruments that was influenced by the sound of Balinese gamelan.  (Britten had visited the Indonesian island in 1956.)  The words “Pleni sunt coeli et terra” are declaimed by the chorus, chanting in free rhythm over a sequence of constantly rising pitches which eventually encompass all twelve tones of the chromatic scale.  The “Hosanna,” by contrast, is firmly anchored in D major, with exultant flourishes in the wind instruments.  Although quiet and subdued, the “Benedictus” maintains a level of excitement thanks to its accompaniment in staccato (separated) notes and the use of the once-proscribed parallel fifths in the harmony.  Then another Owen poem is invoked as a counterpoint to the triumphant proclamation of the Sanctus:  not life but death is eternal and the wounds of the earth will never heal. 

The “Agnus Dei” is merged with Owen's “One ever hangs where shelled roads part,” and for once there is no contradiction between the two:  the image of the Lamb that takes away the sins of the world is amplified by the related image of Christ who loses a limb in the battle but inspires love by His sheer presence.  The large orchestra is assigned to the chorus and the chamber orchestra to the tenor soloist.  The instrumental parts consist mostly of descending and ascending scales played in unison, with subtle shifts between different types of scales. 

The concluding “Libera me” is, without a doubt, the emotional high point of the entire Requiem.  While the liturgical text evokes once more the horrors of the Last Judgment, Owen's poem tells of the reconciliation of two former enemies, as the eternal rest, the requies aeterna, becomes reality.  The movement begins with some menacing drum strokes that usher in a tortuous melodic line, steadily climbing and growing in volume until it breaks off abruptly at the word ignem (fire).  The voices (soprano solo and chorus) represent both the universal cataclysm and the individual soul in agony.  Then the music gradually quiets down and the two male soloists sing a mournful recitative, only sparsely accompanied by instruments.  “I am the enemy you killed, my friend”—sings the baritone, and soon afterwards:  “Let us sleep now...”*  And indeed, it is as if the whole world sank into a sweet comforting sleep in the final chorus, like at the end of Bach's Passions. 

The boys' choir sings the liturgical “In paradisum” while the tenor and the baritone repeat the final line of Owen's poem.  This monumental gesture of peace involves all the performers onstage, but the last word is spoken by the chorus, a cappella, repeating one more time the magical chords with which both the “Requiem aeternam” and the “Dies irae” ended. 

The premiere of the War Requiem went down in history as one of the great moments in 20th-century music.  Britten had chosen his three soloists from three countries that were involved in the war on different sides—Galina Vishnevskaya of Russia, Peter Pears of England, and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau of Germany.  In the event, the Soviet authorities refused to allow Vishnevskaya to travel to England, and she had to be replaced by British soprano Heather Harper at the last minute.  She was finally allowed to participate in the recording, which was made in January 1963.  At that point, Britten's vision was finally realized:  three children of the former fighting nations were able to join their voices to denounce war and pray for everlasting piece. 

Notes by Peter Laki

TEXT AND TRANSLATIONS:
I.  REQUIEM AETERNAM 

 CHORUS 

 Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine, 

et lux perpetua luceat eis. 

Grant them eternal rest, o Lord, 

and may everlasting light shine upon them. 

BOYS' CHOIR 

Te decet hymnus, Deus in Sion, 

et tibi reddetur votum in Jerusalem: 

exaudi orationem mean, 

ad te omnis caro veniet. 

Songs of praise are due to Thee, God, in Zion, 

and prayers offered up to Thee in Jerusalem. 

Hear my prayer, 

all flesh shall come to Thee. 

TENOR SOLO (“Anthem for Doomed Youth”) 

What passing-bells for those who die as cattle? 

Only the monstrous anger of the guns. 

Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle 

Can patter out their hasty orisons. 

No mockeries for them from prayers or bells, 

Nor any voice of mourning save by the choirs,— 

The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; 

And bugles calling for them from sad shires. 

What candles may be held to speed them all? 

Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes 

Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes. 

The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; 

Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds, 

And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds. 

CHORUS 

 Kyrie eleison. 

Christe eleison. 

Kyrie eleison. 

Lord, have mercy. 

Christ, have mercy. 

Lord, have mercy.

II.  DIES IRAE  

CHORUS 

Dies irae, dies illa, 

Solvet saeclum in favilla, 

Teste David cum Sibylla. 

Quantus tremor est futurus, 

Quando Judex est venturus, 

Cuncta stricte discussurus. 

Tuba mirum spargens sonum 

Per sepulchra regionum 

Coget omnes ante thronum. 

Mors stupebit et natura, 

Cum resurget creatura, 

Judicanti responsura. 

Day of wrath, that day, 

Shall dissolve the world into ashes, 

With David and the Sibyl as witnesses. 

How much trembling there will be, 

When the Judge will come, 

To weigh all things strictly. 

The trumpet pouring forth its wondrous sound 

Through the tombs of the lands 

Calls everyone before the throne. 

Death and Nature shall be stunned 

When the creature shall rise again, 

To answer the Judge. 

BARITONE SOLO 

Bugles sang, saddening the evening air, 

And bugles answered, sorrowful to hear. 

Voices of boys were by the river-side, 

Sleep mothered them; and left the twilight sad. 

The shadow of the morrow weighed on men. 

Voices of old despondency resigned, 

Bowed by the shadow of the morrow, slept. 

SOPRANO SOLO AND CHORUS 

Liber scriptus proferetur, 

In quo totum continetur, 

Unde mundus judicetur. 

Judex ergo cum sedebit, 

Quidquid latet, apparebit, 

Nil inultum remanebit. 

Quid sum miser tunc dicturus? 

Quem patronum rogaturus, 

Cum vix justus sit securus? 

Rex tremendae majestatis, 

Qui salvandos salvas gratis, 

Salve me, fons pietatis. 

A written book shall be brought forth, 

In which all is contained, 

whereby the world shall be judged. 

When the Judge shall sit, 

Whatever is concealed shall appear, 

Nothing shall remain unavenged. 

What am I, a wretch, to say then? 

To what protector shall I appeal 

When even the just man is scarcely safe? 

King of fearful majesty, 

Who freely savest those who are to be saved, 

Save me, fountain of compassion. 

TENOR AND BARITONE SOLOS (“The Next War”) 

Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death, 

Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland,— 

Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand. 

We've sniffed the green thick odor of his breath,— 

Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe. 

He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed 

Shrapnel.  We chorused when he sang aloft; 

We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe. 

Oh, Death was never enemy of ours! 

We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum. 

No soldier's paid to kick against his powers. 

We laughed, knowing that better men would come, 

And greater wars; when each proud fighter brags 

He wars on Death—for life; not men—for flags. 

CHORUS 

Recordare Jesu pie, 

Quod sum causa tuae viae: 

Ne me perdas illa die. 

Quaerens me, sedisti lassus, 

Redemisti crucem passus: 

Tantus labor non sit cassus. 

Ingemisco, tamquam reus, 

Culpa rubet vultus meus: 

Supplicanti parce Deus. 

Qui Mariam absolvisti, 

Et latronem exaudisti, 

Mihi quoque spem dedisti. 

Inter oves locum praesta, 

Et ab hoedes me sequestra, 

Statuens in parte dextra. 

Confutatis maledictis, 

Flammis acribus addictis, 

Voca me cum benedictis. 

Ora supplex et acclinis, 

Cor contritum quasi cinis, 

Gere curam mei finis. 

Recall, kind Jesus, 

That I am the cause of Thy Way, 

Do not cast me out on that day. 

Seeking me, Thou didst sink down wearily, 

Thou hast redeemed me by suffering the cross, 

So much toil should not be in vain. 

I sigh, like the sinner that I am, 

Guilt reddens my face, 

Oh God, spare the supplicant. 

Thou, who hast forgiven Mary [Magdalene], 

And hast listened to the robber, 

Hast given me hope as well. 

Give me a place among the sheep 

And separate me from the goats, 

Standing at Thy right hand. 

When the damned are confounded, 

Consigned to the burning flames, 

Call me to be with the blessed. 

I pray, suppliant and kneeling, 

my heart contrite as ashes, 

protect me when my time is at an end.  

BARITONE SOLO (“Sonnet:  On Seeing a Piece of Our Artillery Brought into Action”) 

Be slowly lifted up, thou long black arm, 

Great gun towering toward Heaven, about to curse; 

Reach at that arrogance which needs thy harm, 

And beat it down before its sins grow worse; 

But when thy spell be cast complete and whole, 

May God curse thee, and cut thee from our soul! 

CHORUS AND SOPRANO SOLO 

Dies irae, dies illa, 

Solvet saeclum in favilla, 

Teste David cum Sibylla. 

Quantus tremor est futurus, 

Quando judex est venturus, 

Cuncta stricte discussurus! 

Lacrimosa dies illa, 

Qua resurget ex favilla, 

Judicanus homo reus, 

Huic ergo parce, Deus. 

Day of wrath, that day, 

Shall dissolve the world into ashes, 

With David and the Sibyl as witnesses. 

How much trembling there will be, 

When the Judge will come, 

To weigh all things strictly. 

That tearful day, 

When from the ashes arises 

The sinner to be judged, 

Spare him accordingly, oh God. 

TENOR SOLO 

Move him into the sun— 

Gently its touch awoke him once, 

At home, whispering of fields unsown. 

Always it woke him, even in France, 

Until this morning and this snow. 

If anything might rouse him now 

The kind old sun will know. 

Think how it wakes the seeds,— 

Woke, once, the clays of a cold star. 

Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides, 

Full-nerved—still warm—too hard to stir? 

Was it for this the clay grew tall? 

O what made fatuous sunbeams toil 

To break earth's sleep at all? 

CHORUS 

Pie Jesu Domine, 

dona eis requiem. 

Amen. 

Kind Jesus, Lord, 

grant them rest. 

Amen. 

III.  OFFERTORIUM 

BOYS' CHOIR 

Domine Jesu Christe, 

Rex gloriae, 

libera animas omnium fidelium defunctorum 

de poenis inferni et de profundo lacu: 

libera eas de ore leonis, 

ne absorbeat eas tartarus, 

ne cadant in obscurum. 

Lord Jesus Christ, 

King of glory, 

free the souls of all the faithful dead 

from the tortures of hell and from the bottomless pit: 

free them from the lion's jaw, 

don't let them be swallowed by hell, 

don't let them fall into darkness. 

CHORUS 

Sed signifer sanctus Michael 

repraesentet eas in lucem sanctam, 

quam olim Abrahae promisisti 

et semini ejus. 

But let the holy standard-bearer Michael 

lead them into the holy light, 

which Thou didst promise Abraham 

and his seed. 

BARITONE AND TENOR SOLOS (“The Parable of the Old Man and the Young”) 

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went, 

And took the fire with him, and a knife. 

And as they sojourned both of them together, 

Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father, 

Behold the preparations, fire and iron, 

But where the lamb for this burnt-offering? 

Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps, 

And builded parapets and trenches there, 

And stretchèd forth the knife to slay his son. 

When lo! an angel called him out of heaven, 

Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad, 

Neither do anything to him.  Behold, 

A ram, caught in the thicket by its horns; 

Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him. 

But the old man would not so, but slew his son,— 

And half the seed of Europe, one by one. 

BOYS' CHOIR, CHORUS 

Hostias et preces 

tibi Domine laudis offerimus: 

tu suscipe pro animabus illis, 

quarum hodie memoriam facimus: 

fac eas, Domine, 

de morte transire ad vitam, 

quam olim Abrahae promisisti 

et semini ejus. 

Sacrifices and prayers 

we offer to Thee, Lord, with praise: 

receive them for the souls of those 

whose memory we recall today: 

make them, Lord, 

to pass from death to life, 

which Thou didst promise Abraham 

and his seed. 

IV. SANCTUS 

SOPRANO SOLO AND CHORUS 

Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, 

Dominus Deus Sabaoth. 

Pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria tua. 

Hosanna in excelsis. 

Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini, 

Hosanna in excelsis. 

Holy, holy, holy, 

Lord God of Hosts. 

Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory. 

Hosanna in the highest. 

Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord. 

Hosanna in the highest. 

BARITONE SOLO 

After the blast of lightning from the East, 

The flourish of loud clouds, the Chariot Throne; 

After the drums of Time have rolled and ceased, 

And by the bronze west long retreat is blown, 

Shall life renew these bodies?  Of a truth 

All death will He annul, all tears assuage?— 

Fill the void veins of Life again with youth, 

And wash, with an immortal water, Age? 

When I do ask white Age he saith not so: 

'My head hangs weighed with snow.' 

And when I hearken to the Earth, she saith: 

'My fiery heart shrinks, aching.  It is death. 

Mine ancient scars shall not be glorified, 

Nor my titanic tears, the sea, be dried.' 

V. AGNUS DEI 

TENOR SOLO 

One ever hangs where shelled roads part. 

In this war He too lost a limb, 

But His disciples hide apart; 

And now the Soldiers bear with him. 

CHORUS 

Agnus Dei, 

qui tollis peccata mundi, 

dona eis requiem. 

Lamb of God, 

who takest away the sins of the world, 

grant them rest. 

TENOR SOLO 

Near Golgotha strolls many a priest, 

And in their faces there is pride 

That they were flesh-marked by the Beast 

By whom the gentle Christ's denied. 

CHORUS 

Agnus Dei, 

qui tollis peccata mundi, 

dona eis requiem. 

Lamb of God, 

who takest away the sins of the world, 

grant them rest. 

TENOR SOLO (“At a Calvary near the Ancre”) 

The scribes on all the people shove 

And bawl allegiance to the state, 

But they who love the greater love 

Lay down their life; they do not hate. 

CHORUS 

Agnus Dei, 

qui tollis peccata mundi, 

dona eis requiem sempiternam. 

Lamb of God, 

who takest away the sins of the world, 

grant them rest everlasting. 

TENOR SOLO 

Dona nobis pacem. 

Grant us peace. 

VI. LIBERA ME 

CHORUS 

Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna 

in die illa tremenda, 

quando coeli movendi sunt et terra, 

dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem. 

Deliver me, Lord, from eternal death 

on that dreadful day 

when the heavens and the earth shall move, 

when Thou shalt come to judge the world by fire. 

SOPRANO SOLO AND CHORUS 

Tremens factus sum ego et timeo, 

dum discussio venerit, atque ventura ira. 

Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna, 

quando coeli movendi sunt et terra. 

Dies illa, dies irae, 

calamitatis et miseriae, 

dies magna et amara valde. 

Libera me, Domine… 

I am made to tremble, and I fear, 

until the trial shall be at hand and the wrath to come. 

Deliver me, oh Lord, from eternal death 

when the heavens and the earth shall move. 

That day, the day of wrath, 

of calamity and misery, 

a great day and exceeding bitter. 

Deliver me, oh Lord... 

TENOR SOLO 

It seemed that out of battle I escaped 

Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped 

Through granites which titanic wars had groined, 

Yet also there encumbers sleepers groaned, 

Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred. 

Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared 

With piteous recognition in fixed eyes, 

Lifting distressful hands as if to bless. 

And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan. 

'Strange friend,' I said, 'here is no cause to mourn.' 

BARITONE SOLO 

“None,” said the other, “save the undone years, 

The hopelessness.  Whatever hope is yours, 

Was my life also; I went hunting wild 

After the wildest beauty in the world. 

For by my glee might many men have laughed. 

And of my weeping something had been left, 

Which must die now.  I mean the truth untold, 

The pity of war, the pity war distilled. 

Now me will go content with what we spoiled. 

Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled. 

They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress, 

None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress. 

Miss we the march of this retreating world 

Into vain citadels that are not walled. 

Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels, 

I would go up and wash them from sweet wells, 

Even from wells we sunk too deep for war, 

Even the sweetest wells that ever were. 

I am the enemy you killed, my friend, 

I knew you in this dark; for so you frowned 

Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed. 

I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.” 

TENOR AND BARITONE SOLOS 

“Let us sleep now...” 

 BOYS' CHOIR, CHORUS, SOPRANO SOLO 

In paradisum deducant te Angeli, 

in tuo adventu suscipiant te Martyres, 

et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Jerusalem. 

Chorus Angelorum te suscipiat, 

et cum Lazaro quondam paupere 

aeternam habeas requiem. 

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, 

et lux perpetua luceat eis. 

Requiescant in pace. 

Amen. 

May the Angels escort you to heaven, 

may the Martyrs receive you on your arrival, 

and lead you to the holy city of Jerusalem. 

May the choir of Angels receive you, 

and with Lazarus, once a pauper, 

may you have eternal rest. 

Grant them eternal rest, oh Lord, 

and may everlasting light shine upon them. 

May they rest in peace, 

Amen.