by Christopher Wilkins
Thompson Two Passages from The Testament of Freedom
Throughout the musical world, Randall Thompson is known for his choral masterpiece, Alleluia, composed for the very first Berkshire Music Festival at Tanglewood in 1940. Intended for the whole community to sing together during opening ceremonies, it is still performed every year at Tanglewood’s first session.
Thompson was born in New York City in 1899 but spent much of his career in Boston, where he died in 1984. Throughout his life, he balanced composition with teaching. Harvard University, Wellesley College, and the Curtis Institute of Music all benefited from his extraordinary gifts as a teacher and mentor. Prior to coming to Harvard, Thompson headed the music department of the University of Virginia, serving from 1941–1945.
Thompson composed The Testament of Freedom in 1943 to mark the bicentennial of Thomas Jefferson’s birth. He dedicated the work to the University of Virginia Glee Club, “in memory of the Father of the University.” The premiere was broadcast nationwide and later rebroadcast by the Office of War Information to American servicemen and women overseas.
In 1945, Thompson paired the outer movements of the four-movement workto create
Two Passages from The Testament of Freedom. Omitting the two inward-looking middle movements, he produced a more compact version that retains the original’s broad arc—from Jefferson’s affirmation of liberty to his vision of national purpose.
In the opening bars, the orchestra announces the name “Thomas Jefferson” in majestic rhythmic chords. The chorus then introduces the work’s principal theme in unison over a simple harmonic accompaniment: “The God who gave us life gave us liberty at the same time.” That theme returns twice in the closing movement—first in a serene setting for strings alone, then for the full forces at the conclusion. Throughout, Thompson’s musical language remains direct and unadorned, projecting Jefferson’s words with utmost clarity.
To celebrate America 250, the Landmarks Orchestra has programmed American works of many kinds. The Testament of Freedom is a distinguished example of patriotic concert music by one of Boston’s most important—and, in our view, underappreciated—composers. The historian Jacques Barzun observed that Thompson’s music “does not simply echo popular sentiment, but distills meaning from popular experience.” He also recalled telling Thompson that “his way of speaking, acting, and dressing; his letters and his music were all marked by one quality—elegance.”
We are thrilled to perform Verdi’s Requiem with an extraordinary roster of guest artists. For the first time since 2022, the One City Choir—with members welcomed from every neighborhood of Boston—appears center stage. Joining them are the acclaimed Cantata Singers, with Music Director Noah Horn, and an exceptional solo quartet.
Verdi Messa da Requiem
Few can resist the Verdi Requiem.
The text unfolds as a series of dramatic scenes with the listener at the center of the action. We hear the last trumpet sound, watch flames consume the damned, tremble before the Supreme Judge, sob with mourners, and grieve with the penitent. In the work’s most celebrated passage, trumpets surround the audience as if on Judgment Day. Graves open and souls plunge into purgatory as the wrath of God comes pouring down. It is a representation to rival Michelangelo’s The Last Judgment, to which it is often compared.
Yet for all its dramatic power, Verdi wished to distance his Requiem Mass from the operatic tradition. “One must not sing this Mass in the way one sings opera,” he wrote. “Therefore phrasing and dynamics that may be fine in the theatre won’t satisfy me at all, not at all.” He wished for purity of delivery appropriate to the sacred subject, and always beauty in the vocal line, the hallmark of Verdi’s music. Our superb solo quartet—Felicia Moore, Erica Brookhyser, Jonghyun Park, and Christopher Humbert Jr.—embody the very qualities Verdi took pains to describe.
Verdi’s Requiem was the first great setting of the Mass for the Dead to establish itself primarily as a concert work. Earlier Requiems—including monumental works of Mozart, Cherubini, and Berlioz—were intended for liturgical use and would have been performed with the officiating priest singing prayers between the movements. Although Verdi’s Requiem was first performed as part of a memorial service in Milan, he always led it thereafter only in concert halls. For this reason, it is also considered the first Requiem conceived as one continuous work, with each movement proceeding directly to the next.
I. Requiem e Kyrie
The music begins with low cellos intoning a simple descending line, as if lowering a casket into the grave. The chorus sings sotto voce—in a hushed voice— “Requiem aeternam” (“Eternal rest”), like a congregation praying together. A small group of sopranos sings “Dona eis, Domine” (“Grant them, O Lord”), breaking away from the larger group to make a fervent plea. At “et lux perpetua luceat eis” (“and may perpetual light shine upon them”), the music moves from the darkness of minor to the radiance of major as the chorus sings alone a hymn of praise in archaic style.
The opening music returns before opening out into the Kyrie where the soloists are heard for the first time. Singing in full Verdian splendor, their prayer is personal rather than communal. Verdi begins—as tradition would have it—with the solo tenor, representing Everyman.
II. Dies Irae
The Dies Irae is by far the longest portion of the Requiem, comprising more than a third of the music and nearly half of the text. It unfolds in eleven distinct sections, each flowing directly into the next. (1) The movement begins with orchestral hammer blows, as if delivered by the Supreme Judge. When the music returns moments later, thunderous strokes of the bass drum are inserted between the chords, amplifying our sense of terror with each Shakespearean “crack of doom.” Downward-plunging figures in the strings and low brass evoke the fate of the damned. Huge thanks to the Harvard University Band for loaning us “Big Bertha”—one of the largest playable natural skin bass drums in the world.
(2) No sooner has the chorus foretold the “terror [that] will be when the Judge shall come” than eight trumpets announce that the terrible day is upon us. Four trumpets onstage are answered by four out of sight (or out on the Esplanade lawn). Their call begins as a distant warning, but the ever-increasing tempo and volume bring us inexorably face to face with our impending doom. By the time the chorus enters, all hell has broken loose.
(3) Following the words “the trumpet… will gather everyone before the throne,” a tension-filled silence signals that the world itself has come to a stop. “Death and nature will be stunned,” the bass soloist stammers, barely able to speak. The Requiem’s first extended solo belongs to the alto, who solemnly proclaims that the book of judgment shall be opened. She begins by intoning a single pitch before expanding into an impassioned plea. Midway through, the brass return with what Julian Budden memorably described as “the searchlight gaze of the Supreme Judge from whom nothing is hid.” The chorus trembles beneath the soloist’s words until (4) the opening Dies irae music erupts once again.
(5) Verdi now presents the first ensemble of the Requiem: a trio for soprano, alto, and tenor. The text becomes personal, shifting for the first time into the first person. The mood grows increasingly apprehensive until, (6) all bass voices and instruments invoke the King of Dreadful Majesty in music recalling the great maledictions of Verdi’s operas. Against this overwhelming display of divine power, the soloists plead for mercy with mounting urgency, culminating in the soprano’s first high C—the first of only two in the Requiem.
(7) In the soprano-alto duet, Recordare, attention turns for the first time to Jesus. “Recall,” they plead, “that I was the reason for your journey.” Quiet woodwinds reiterate the fearsome rhythm associated with “Salva me” (“Save me”) from the previous section. The vocal lines are at once consoling and unsettled, ending in a wonderfully meandering cadenza for the two soloists. (8) The Ingemisco for tenor solo is the most personal passage of the Dies Irae. The supplicant’s voice grows from guilt and unworthiness—reminding Christ that He forgave even Mary Magdalen—to the confident hope of joining the blessed at His right hand. (9) In the Confutatis, the bass invokes the fires of hell once again before pleading to be called among the blessed. (10) The opening music of the Dies irae returns for the third time (we will hear it once more at the very close of the Requiem).
(11) A descending line in the violins leads to the Lacrymosa, music originally composed for Don Carlos. It evokes the sorrow of all humanity, yet it begins with the alto soloist alone, who may represent the Virgin Mary weeping at the foot of the Cross. An unexpected harmony on the final “Amen” leaves us with more uncertainty than consolation.
III. Offertorio
The Offertory begins with a prayer for deliverance from the terrors of hell. The solo soprano, accompanied by luminous high violins, expresses the hope that the Archangel Michael will lead the faithful into holy light. Verdi sets the text relating to Abraham and his descendants as a fugue, in accordance with tradition, its multiplying voices reflecting God’s promise that Abraham’s seed shall increase without number. The Hostias, begun quietly by the tenor, is imbued with gentle devotional warmth. The fugue returns now with increased power before a final recollection of the opening prayer.
IV. Sanctus
A mere two and a half minutes in length, the Sanctus is ablaze with light. Brass fanfares herald powerful declamations of “Holy, holy, holy.” Verdi divides the chorus into eight independent parts, creating a brilliant web of counterpoint that bursts forth in praise.
V. Agnus Dei
Solo soprano and alto spin out a gentle, chant-like melody, answered by the chorus in unison. The soloists repeat the melody in the minor mode, and the chorus responds again. A third iteration of the chant adds a single word—“sempiternam” (“everlasting”)— to ask that the promised rest be eternal. A final rising gesture in the violins points heavenward.
VI. Lux aeterna
A constant interplay of light and darkness animates the Lux aeterna. Scored for mezzo-soprano, tenor, and bass, the music alternates between the radiance of perpetual light and the shadow of death. The solo soprano is not part of the ensemble, as she awaits her climactic role in the final movement.
VII. Libera me
We end where Verdi originally began, with the Libera me, first conceived as the concluding movement of an earlier Requiem in memory of Rossini. In the summer of 2016, the Landmarks Orchestra gave the New England premiere of the original 1869 Libera me, featuring the One City Choir, Back Bay Chorale, and English soprano Jane Eaglen.
The solo soprano opens the movement with panic in her voice, crying out to be delivered from damnation on that day when the earth shall move. The chorus mutters a fearful response. The hammer blows of the Dies irae return, mounting one final assault. The chorus—without accompaniment—sings the music first introduced by the strings at the opening of the Requiem. The soprano repeats her impassioned plea for deliverance, leading to a great choral fugue that reveals the desperation of the people with such vehemence that they seem, in Francis Toye’s words, “intent on achieving salvation by violence.” All forces unite on the words “Domine, libera me” (“Lord, deliver me”) in music recalling passages in Verdi associated with the Risorgimento and the struggle for political independence in Italy. In one final dramatic gesture, the soprano rises again to a ringing high C before collapsing in exhaustion before the unknown. The Requiem concludes with the chorus uttering a monotone, colorless “Libera me.” While the orchestra offers the promise of a major chord, the ultimate outcome remains in doubt. Verdi—ever the skeptic—returns the question of salvation to the listener.
CHRISTOPHER WILKINS was appointed Music Director of the Boston Landmarks Orchestra in the spring of 2011. Since then, he has expanded the orchestra’s mission of making great music accessible to the whole community. He has also helped develop the orchestra’s Breaking Down Barriers initiative, making accessibility a priority in all aspects of the orchestra’s activities.
