I went to my second classical music concert of the month. And the year. And the decade. It was Verdi's Requiem at the Royal Festival Hall. My mum reminded me on the phone that I had seen this before. I went to see her perform it (not on her own, though I'd quite like to see her try) at the Well's Cathedral about 12 years ago (which might be my last classical music concert). She told me that I had reviewed the performance as "too long". I hope I said some other things as well. That would have been quite harsh.
Having seen it again I would again say that the piece is too long, but this is not the fault of my mum or the massive double choir and orchestra at the Festival Hall. Verdi has to take the blame for that one. If he wasn't dead I'd be round his house tomorrow insisting that he edit some of the boring bits out. I might go to his grave, dig him up and insist he gives it a go anyway. Being dead is no excuse for being boring. I'd suggest getting rid of the bits with the warbling, puffed up soloists. They're all rubbish. The bits where everyone starts playing and singing loud are the best. You might be able to keep it the same length if you just ramp up the volume of the orchestra and the choir so that you can't hear the preposterous soloists. But look, I'll leave this in your cold, dead hands. You're the Maestro here.
Ninety minutes is a bit long for a requiem I think. You could play a game of football in that time. And if I die I would prefer it if the 22 best living composers got together to play a game of soccer in my honour. That would be very entertaining to watch and not take up too much of their valuable composing time. Whatever you say about Verdi's Requiem it must have taken him fucking ages to write. Even the filler bits. He didn't have a computer programme that lets you put in a melody and then orchestrates it for you, he had to work out exactly what every instrument would play and every person would sing for 90 minutes. I reckon it must have taken him at least a week.
I wasn't sure that I would enjoy the evening but despite my rudeness to a decomposing composer I was pretty blown away by the experience. We were sitting high up in the massive Festival Hall in the cheap seats, but I liked being up there. You could take in the whole experience and the sound was still breath-taking, grabbing me by the guts and twisting. There were over two hundred people on stage and when they all played and sang together it was absolutely astonishing. For the first thirty minutes at least I was absolutely hooked, my only fear being that I was now middle-aged enough to find this kind of thing enjoyable and emotional.
The music was so mesmerising that any external sounds were heightened and clanking. A man in my row's phone went off (fucking idiot- it wasn't me) and his girlfriend (who was sitting next to me) spent the next minute quietly snickering at his faux pas, though ironcially her stifled laughter was more distracting than the brief ring tone. Someone two rows in front had not had their dinner and their complaining stomach became a discordant instrument in the piece. And the Royal Festival Hall really have to get some WD40 on their doors. There was a protracted screech as someone left or entered the room.
Though in a way I quite liked the way that the awful noises of every day life juxtaposed with the polished and expertly created sounds of the music. Each time a section finished there would be a disparate choir of coughers, some bass, some soprano, some castrato exploding from different sections of the vast auditorium. There was something very grounding about it - thanks to Verdi we'd become hyper aware of all sound and could see the beauty and ugliness in an infected throat. I fancied that some of the coughers might be ill enough to expire and thus it was only fitting that they were allowed to be a broken instrument in their own requiem.
It was such a sensory overload that I was almost falling asleep for the last thirty minutes, which might be why Verdi put in the boring, quiet bits so people could get a bit of sleep. And he then puts in the good loud bit to wake them up again. It's very considerate. But he knows the loud bit is the best bit cos he puts it in three or four times. Like he's trying to make the thing as long as possible. Perhaps he got paid double time if the thing went over an hour. Or maybe he's like one of those plumbers who you pay by the half hour, even if you only go a minute over. So by pushing the thing up to 91 minutes Verdi got £320 rather than £240. I don't know.
I did enjoy it and I think I might go to the Festival Hall again. It made me think, it made me more aurally aware and it made me sleep. That's a pretty good night out.
