There are some pieces of music that feel like the melody is fully formed within you before you even open your mouth to make a sound. Mozart’s Requiem in D minor is one of these. Most choral singers will perform it multiple times over their lives, and it’s everywhere – commercials, movies, sampled in songs. Even if you’ve never listened to it all the way through, you probably know it a lot better than you think.
My name is Colleen Potter, and I have been a soprano in the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra Chorus for a decade. I love me a good requiem mass – the delicate beauty of Saint-Saëns’, the intensity of Verdi’s, the gut-wrenching emotions in the Calgary Phil-commissioned Afghanistan: Requiem for a Generation by Jeffery Ryan. But Mozart? Mozart is my first musical love.
It began as a child. My father was a music teacher and brought home a copy of the movie Amadeus, which is a, not particularly historically accurate, story about Mozart and his rivalry with another composer, Antonio Salieri, who is driven to madness by being able to recognize Mozart’s genius but not possess it himself. The movie reaches its climax with Mozart dictating the Requiem from his death bed, and while it didn’t actually happen quite like that, the wonder I experienced at all that it conveys has stayed with me ever since.
What is really exciting is that we get to do a different version of the Requiem this year. The version we know best and perform most often was not actually completed by Mozart before he died. There have been several composers who have tried to edit the Requiem to be closer to what he might have written, but I’ve never had the opportunity to sing them until now. It’s quite the surprise when the note you think comes next isn’t there!
One sings music for a number of reasons; the sheer beauty of the piece, the technical challenge, the excitement of learning a new work. However, there are occasions when life presents opportunities for music to be an incredibly personal expression of emotion. Being able to return to a beloved piece during challenging times is like receiving a hug from an old friend. On top of that, singing a requiem is an opportunity to express grief – to be loud and angry, to quietly lament loss, to maybe find a sense of peace by the end – all within the musical support of an entire orchestra and choir.
I would encourage you to come share this experience with us, be it to marvel at the wonder of genius, hear emotions that you cannot express aloud, or simply to be immersed in the delight that is a gorgeous piece of music.
By Colleen Potter
Soprano, Calgary Philharmonic Chorus
Mozart’s Requiem
13 + 14 May / 7:30PM
Jack Singer Concert Hall
There are some pieces of music that feel like the melody is fully formed within you before you even open your mouth to make a sound. Mozart’s Requiem in D minor is one of these. Most choral singers will perform it multiple times over their lives, and it’s everywhere – commercials, movies, sampled in songs. Even if you’ve never listened to it all the way through, you probably know it a lot better than you think.
My name is Colleen Potter, and I have been a soprano in the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra Chorus for a decade. I love me a good requiem mass – the delicate beauty of Saint-Saëns’, the intensity of Verdi’s, the gut-wrenching emotions in the Calgary Phil-commissioned Afghanistan: Requiem for a Generation by Jeffery Ryan. But Mozart? Mozart is my first musical love.
It began as a child. My father was a music teacher and brought home a copy of the movie Amadeus, which is a, not particularly historically accurate, story about Mozart and his rivalry with another composer, Antonio Salieri, who is driven to madness by being able to recognize Mozart’s genius but not possess it himself. The movie reaches its climax with Mozart dictating the Requiem from his death bed, and while it didn’t actually happen quite like that, the wonder I experienced at all that it conveys has stayed with me ever since.
What is really exciting is that we get to do a different version of the Requiem this year. The version we know best and perform most often was not actually completed by Mozart before he died. There have been several composers who have tried to edit the Requiem to be closer to what he might have written, but I’ve never had the opportunity to sing them until now. It’s quite the surprise when the note you think comes next isn’t there!
One sings music for a number of reasons; the sheer beauty of the piece, the technical challenge, the excitement of learning a new work. However, there are occasions when life presents opportunities for music to be an incredibly personal expression of emotion. Being able to return to a beloved piece during challenging times is like receiving a hug from an old friend. On top of that, singing a requiem is an opportunity to express grief – to be loud and angry, to quietly lament loss, to maybe find a sense of peace by the end – all within the musical support of an entire orchestra and choir.
I would encourage you to come share this experience with us, be it to marvel at the wonder of genius, hear emotions that you cannot express aloud, or simply to be immersed in the delight that is a gorgeous piece of music.
By Colleen Potter
Soprano, Calgary Philharmonic Chorus
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