REVIEW: Orchestra Iowa unleashes fire power in Verdi's Requiem

“That was fun! That was really, really fun tonight,” a giddy Timothy Hankewich declared following Orchestra Iowa's masterful performance of Verdi's Requiem.

Fun is an understatement. Every aspect was exhilarating Saturday night for the orchestra's debut  in the glorious new 1,000-seat Concert Hall at College Community. The concert repeated there Sunday afternoon.

“With 160 people onstage, singing their hearts out, and that turbo-charged brass, the Verdi Requiem would not have been possible in the Paramount Theatre. In Eastern Iowa, no stage  has been large enough until tonight,” Hankewich told season ticket holders at a post-show reception Saturday at the nearby Hotel at Kirkwood.

The entire evening was a rare treat for audience and performers, alike. The effervescent maestro was clearly in his element, conducting the entire 90-minute score from memory, punctuated by his own kind of ballet at the podium. What a joy to see him fling his arms wide open to embrace the music, the musicians and the energy flowing through this revered Mass for the Dead that could wake the dead.

No element wavered as 240 musicians moved seamlessly through each mood and movement in this work best-known for its bombastic Dies Irae (Day of Wrath) that sends the fear of God coursing through  your soul. It's a terrifying tour de force for all instruments and voices. They were equally adept at handling the sudden near-silence of pianissimos, with excellent percussive enunciation from the well-rehearsed Cedar Rapids Concert Chorale and Coe College Concert Choir.

The thrilling theme was repeated throughout the work, knocking the lucky listeners back in their seats each time.

The entire work is filled with passion and pathos, dripping in the drama of heart-wrenching pleas for God's mercy upon the departed soul. Hankewich created even more drama by using four antiphonal trumpets in the Tuba Mirum and Sanctus passages.

With all eyes riveted on the menacing strings and bass soloist  Kevin Deas during the Tuba Mirum, a blast of brass rang out from either side of the the balcony. The trumpets reappeared there later during the Sanctus,  all grouped on one side. The acoustics in the hall are perfect for such an effect, with no time-lag that can ruin such attempts at surround-sound.

Certainly not all movements were blaring and quivering. The quiet, peaceful passages were equally special, with soprano Mary Wilson, mezzo Jane Dutton and tenor Nathan Granner working in counterpoint to add another lovely layer of contemplation in the Quid Sum Miser passage. Verdi wove other moments of angelic beauty throughout the work, from the strings and upper woodwinds as well as the singers, especially in the Lux Aeterna plea for meriful eternal light.

It's impossible to single out instrumentalists for moments of glory, since their entire collaborative effort was a moment of glory. However, a special bravo goes to bass drum and timpani for supplying the rumbling, sonorous thunder beneath the orchestra's fire.