A satisfying Requiem
Pop was a baritone. I’m a tenor.
Pop sang the “Tuba Mirum” from Mozart’s Requiem in the shower every day.
“The Trumpet Shall Sound” from “Messiah” works better for my voice range as I suds up.
I had no idea how close the lyrics are until around two years ago.
The above “Messiah” aria is “The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised, be raised incorruptible.”
The “Tuba Mirum”? “The trumpet shall send its wondrous sound throughout earth’s sepulchers and gather all before the throne. Death and nature shall be stunned when all creation rises again …”
Apparently with different voice ranges and languages, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
AVOIDING THE REQUIEM
The last time Bravo! Vail put on Mozart’s Requiem was in 2006, the 250th anniversary of the composer’s birth. Pop knocked off from a heart attack about seven weeks later.
I heard the “Tuba Mirum” at his memorial service after I gave the eulogy — at least I thought I did. I don’t remember giving the speech, much less the music. I have fastidiously avoided the Requiem or any other since until Friday night at the Gerald R. Ford Amphitheater. (I chickened out on Bravo’s Verdi presentation last year.)
As Freuds, I’m sure there’s a thesis to be done on our relationship. Scholars are likely lining up for it. Like any father and son, we were the same and so very different simultaneously and drove each other crazy in the process.
How did the son of immigrants, growing up in New York City during the 1950s, the golden age of baseball, not like baseball? And how did his son, naturally, have baseball be the passion of his life and become a sports writer? (The short answer is Mom. She’s about 5-foot-2.)
How come, in many ways, I am becoming more and more like him? All those things he said to me when I was growing up are actually true, damn him.
RELATING TO POP
We had some things in common. We both went to college for seven years. He called that undergraduate and law degrees in from Yale. I staggered out of school with a B.A. in journalism.
During this process, he had had to wonder how we were related. Our unique ability to fall up a flight of stairs negated the need for a DNA test.
Was it my unworthiness as a son that killed him?
His 300 pounds and plus-300 cholesterol did.
Do I think I did my best to shorten his life?
Yes, in my darker moments.
But a requiem is not only for the dead, but the living.
As a Bravo! Vail season-ticket holder, this was the concert I didn’t know if I was going to attend.
The message of Mozart’s Requiem, delivered by the Dallas Symphony Orchestra, Colorado Symphony Chorus and soloists Joelle Harvey, Michelle DeYoung, John Tessier and Evan Boyer, is that we live on.
Having avoided this work for nine years, it was as familiar and as comforting as ever. We move on somehow, some way, with our loved ones always in our heart.
It was a satisfying and meaningful performance, another feather in Bravo! Vail’s collective cap.
Sports Editor Chris Freud can be reached at 970-748-2934, email@example.com and @cfreud.