The curtain rises at the Teatro Filarmonico on one of the absolute masterpieces of music: Ludwig van Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis in D major, Op. 123, a monumental work whose rare appearances in concert only underline its extraordinary preciousness.

As Giovanni Gavazzeni eloquently explains in the programme notes, Beethoven drew inspiration from a meditation contained in the Odyssey, particularly Penelope’s speech in Book XIX, where she reflects on how those who perform noble deeds deserve to have their fame remembered on earth for generations. This concern with leaving posterity something truly “noble” becomes the guiding thread of the final period of the Bonn master’s life — an extraordinary creative phase that produced both the Ninth Symphony and this second Mass, a sonic cathedral that transcends the boundaries of liturgy to assume the dimensions of a concert work, approaching an hour and a half in length.

Here Beethoven does not merely set the Latin Mass text to music; rather, he achieves a miracle of historical synthesis: he studies and absorbs the polyphony of Johann Sebastian Bach and the grandeur of George Frideric Handel, reinterpreting them through a modern and tormented sensibility that already opens the door to the Romantic anxieties of the nineteenth century.

Conductor Wolfram Christ, whose artistic identity has been shaped by his long experience as principal viola of the Berlin Philharmonic, leads the performance with broad expressiveness and a complete mastery of the score. Christ offers a remarkable range of nuances, moving with exceptional fluidity between meditative, restrained passages and those overwhelming fortissimi in which the music becomes a true wall of sound, physically enveloping the listener. His interpretation rigorously respects Beethoven’s tempi, never yielding to unnecessary hesitation or indulgence, thereby ensuring a structure that remains both solid and dynamic.

The orchestra of the Fondazione Arena di Verona follows him with impeccable cohesion and an excellent sound across all sections, yet it is the Chorus, prepared by Maestro Roberto Gabbiani, that emerges as the true beating heart of this titanic undertaking. Beethoven shows no mercy toward the choral forces, treating them like instruments engaged in a perilous ascent: the sopranos of the Fondazione deserve particular praise for sustaining the extremely high and prolonged notes, resolving the most complex agogic passages without ever revealing strain or uncertainty. From the very beginning, the Kyrie presents the Chorus as a force of the highest calibre, a promise fully confirmed by the compact power of the Gloria, where the contrasts between the hushed passages and the thunderous fortissimi of miserere – qui sedes are breathtaking, culminating in the resolution of the formidable final fugue.

The Credo emerges as a moment of overwhelming pathos, with the repeated proclamation of Credo articulated by every section with a force that seems to cry out humanity’s will before the absolute. From there, the performance moves through the mystical and hushed et incarnatus est, the whispered pianissimo of et sepultus est, and finally to the liberating and intricate fugue of the Amen, resolved with outstanding rhythmic precision. Special mention must be made of the basses and altos of the Chorus, who weave together a harmonic foundation that is solid, precise, and cohesive; upon this base rested the excellent contribution of the tenors, who sustained the entire score with remarkable brilliance and vocal presence.

The Sanctus resonates with an arcane fascination, articulated with perfect clarity of diction before flowing into the unexpected Osanna entrusted to the soloists. It is here that Salvatore Quaranta, leader and solo violinist, opens a sublime concertante window: his dialogue with the orchestra, the crystalline flute, and the soloists in the Benedictus becomes a moment of passionate and ethereal music-making. It is no small feat after an hour of sustained orchestral tension, yet Quaranta resolves it with deeply felt lyricism.

The soloists Athanasia Zöhrer, Katrin Wundsam, Sebastian Kohlhepp, and Johannes Weisser, all of Central European background, demonstrate a natural affinity with this repertoire: their warm, fluid, and well-projected voices blend perfectly in the ensemble passages, especially in the Credo (crucifixus, passus et sepultus est) and in the closing pages of the Agnus Dei. It is precisely in the finale that the invocation dona nobis pacem emerges from a dark initial suffering and transforms into a message of hope, though one still marked by bitterness, as if to testify that the peace longed for by Beethoven is never a gratuitous gift, but rather a fragile and painful conquest.

At the end of the performance, the audience — overwhelmed by an hour and a half of pure emotion — released the accumulated tension in thunderous applause for all involved, celebrating the triumph of the conductor, the solo violinist, and above all a Chorus capable of honouring the nobility of purpose that inspired its composer.

By Alessandro Bugno