Missa Solemnis

When many of us think of classical music, our minds instantly jump to a vision of a few violinists playing some unimaginably dull tune which inevitably puts all within earshot to sleep; this could not be farther from the truth in the case of Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique’s performance of Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis. The true success of this performance in my opinion was in its ability to be intricate yet accessible at the same time; not only did it remain true to its initial and intended form but it was performed so expertly that even those among us who lack significant experience in classical music (myself included) could tell based on its euphony that it had been well-performed and therefore could appreciate it.

The orchestra in its totality was a cohesive unit which never strayed from uniform perfection for as much as an instant. Gardiner, clearly having led this symphony with utmost precision, excelled at transitioning smoothly between rapid and powerful musical segments and more subdued expressions. While the orchestra as a whole performed phenomenally, I would be remiss if I failed to mention the extraordinary performance given by Peter Hanson in the role of first violinist. While he was spot on throughout the entire performance, his true violin acumen only became apparent in the few moments in which he was allowed to perform unaccompanied or with limited other accompanying instrumentation; in a word it was sublime and almost entrancing, far exceeding any expectations I had for the entire performance through his own individual merit.

This technical ability displayed by the entire orchestra—with Hanson in particular—was bolstered by the extraordinary acoustics of Carnegie Hall; rivaled only by the Metroplitan Opera, I have since learned that this venue was designed specifically to have excellent acoustic properties. This fact I believe allows for equal enjoyment of the performance regardless of where you are seated (which was very important for our group considering we did not exactly have front row seats). Moreover, this provided a greater level of clarity of that which the vocalists were singing (despite the fact that the language barrier still existed) as well as the contributions of each individual performer which may have been lost in a less-effectively designed performance hall.

My true appreciation of this performance, however, came not through the performers’ abilities but through the mental ease that this performance elicited within me. Coming into this performance I expected either to be lulled to sleep by the melodious nature of the classical music or to be utterly riveted and enthralled, waiting on and anticipating every note as it arrived. Ultimately, neither of these was the reality and I found myself somewhere in the middle ground between this active entertainment and boredom; I found myself in the realm of passive entertainment. The beauty of this form of amusement is that by neither completely demanding my attention nor losing it I was able to enjoy the atmosphere that the music provided while thinking about the current issues and matters pertinent to my life; I felt as though the music acted as a sort of means for the state of relaxation necessary for me to effectively collect my thoughts.