Romeo and Juliet

No one can treat Berlioz Romeo and Juliet lightly, despite its imperfections. Last weekend the Boston Symphony, assisted by the Harvard Glee Club and Radcliffe Choral Society, gave a complete performance of this monumental work.

This combination cantata, symphony, and opera splits into three long movements. There are a few dull passages, but most of its 120 minutes brim over with intense emotion. After an orchestral introduction, a choral recitative marks out the plot, and the first movement ends with what seems to be a rather static version of the famous balcony scene. The second movement has the familiar "Queen Maud Scherzo" and the final section describes the death of the lovers, and the reconciliation of the warring houses.

The orchestral score was exactly what Berlioz devotees had expected--gorgeous splashes of sound mingled with subdued, lyrical melodies. Charles Munch conducted the music of his countryman with deep understanding, although his occasional over-emphasis of inner voices sometimes blotted out the main line. This was especially noticeable in the more vigorous passages of the second movement. But his passionate interpretation of the Love Scene was perfect.

The chorus varied in function and effectiveness. Sometimes commenting on the action, sometimes becoming a part of the action, it resembled the chorus of a Greek tragedy. Berlioz was no genius at writing choral music. His counterpoint is at times turgid, his sonorities monotonous. Nevertheless, there are passages in the final scene where the words and music combine in mutual enhancement, and even steal the show from the orchestra. The Harvard and Radcliffe choral groups, trained by G. Walace Woodworth, were no better than usual, but they really couldn't be. That they were able to successfully project the rather unrewarding vocal sections is a tribute to their talent and hard work.

The soloists had an easy time. Contralto Margaret Roggero, whose rich, pure voice compensated for her poor diction, had one lovely aria in the first act. Yi-Kwei Sze, as Friar Laurence, showed fine tonal control, even in the lowest registers. The sudden emergence of his booming bass voice in the midst of a choral and orchestral tutti was one of the finest moments in the work.