Edmonton’s Pro Coro and Axios Men’s Ensemble record a new work to commemorate those who have fallen
Review by Mark Morris
Benedict Sheehan: Ukrainian War Requiem
John Tessier, tenor
Yuliia Zasimova
Axios Men’s Ensemble
Tenors and basses of Pro Coro Canada
conducted by Michael Zaugg
CD: Cappella Records CR 432
Also available to download in up to 192kHz/24-bit Audio
total time: 1h 07m
On my record shelves sits a 1985 LP of music by the Ukrainian-Canadian Lubomyr Melnyk. It features, in his eccentric flowing minimalist style, a Concert-Requiem for violin and piano, subtitled ‘The Requiem of the 7,000,000’, and it commemorates in moving fashion Stalin’s appalling attempted genocide by starvation of the Ukrainian people in 1932-3.
But I never thought that in my lifetime there would have to be a Ukrainian Requiem, commemorating not those who died in 1932-3, but those who have been killed in a war instigated by another Russian monster, Putin, and perpetrated by Russians as deluded as those who deliberately starved people to death in the Holodomor.
But here we are, with a recording of the American composer Benedict Sheehan’s a capella 2024 Ukrainian War Requiem, released on February 15th, 2025, the third anniversary of the start of the war. Conducted by Michael Zaugg, it is performed by Edmonton’s Pro Coro choir and the Axios Men’s Ensemble, who commissioned the work.
Sheehan is steeped in the Eastern Orthodox music tradition, and is Director of Music at St. Tikhon’s Orthodox Theological Seminary and Monastery – he is perhaps best known for his 2018 setting of the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom. This new work remains firmly in that ecclesiastical mold: the texts, divided into 12 sections, draw on the traditional Trisagion Prayers for the dead, Orthodox liturgy, the psalms, verses by St. John of Damascus, and hymns. This choice of entirely religious texts makes the work a lament for the dead in general rather than specifically a lament for war (as is, for example, Britten’s War Requiem). There are only passing references to conflict: in a section of Psalm 90, in the Great Litany of the third section, and in a text by John of Damascus:
“When Israel passed on foot over the deep as if it were dry land, and beheld their pursuer Pharaoh drowning in the sea, they cried aloud unto God: Let us sing a song of victory! Give rest, O Lord, to the souls of thy servants who have fallen asleep.”
Much of the text is sung in English, some in Ukrainian, the close in Latin. It does seem designed to be more of a work for a church service than a work with concert performance in mind, and the unashamedly Christian emphasis inevitably sings more to the converted than those of other faiths – but no more than, say, a Bach Passion. A forward in the booklet by Dr. Deacon Nicholas Denysenko effectively describes the overall tenor of the Requiem:
“Ukrainians remember the dead in a beloved ritual called a panakhyda—a type of vigil centered on song. Mourners stand before God, in solidarity with survivors, and sing a panakhyda. It is a ritual reflecting on life and death, a lament of grief and loss, and of hope.”
This is a Ukrainian work to commemorate the Ukrainian fallen. There is little sense that in this requiem – or in Sheehan’s otherwise moving introduction essay in the booklet – that the Russian dead are also here remembered: Dr. Dnysenko ends his piece: “Слава Україні – Героям слава! Glory to Ukraine – Glory to the heroes!” That understandably perhaps reflects the circumstances of the composition, and our knowledge that the war is still going on. For should peace and friendship between Ukraine and Russia ever come, one can imagine this requiem equally being sung in Moscow’s Cathedral of the Annunciation to commemorate all the fallen soldiers: the text, within its Orthodox Christian parameters, is universal, and without specific reference.
The music, too, is entirely in the unaccompanied Orthodox tradition, swathes of sonorous vocal sound, made darker by the absence of women’s voices, apart from the soprano soloist in the opening and closing sections, the Ukrainian Yuliia Zasimova. It draws on Ukrainian and Galician plainchant, Gregorian chant, a Ukrainian Jewish psalm tone, and original melodies. The melody of the Ukrainian national anthem is used to bind the sections together, but the overall structure is dictated by the text, not by the music.
It is very beautiful. As is characteristic of Orthodox music, the text is paramount, the overall rhythms rarely varying in their ritual patterns, the harmony never over-complex, but at the service of the text, as in the lovely moment when the basses come in very low at the end of the transcendental passage (5’04” into section five), that starts “Give rest, Oh Lord…”
The choral singing is uniformly excellent, rich in tone, with very tight ensemble from the two choruses, especially in moments where the sound swells. John Tessier is the main soloist, very strong in the call and choral answer in the liturgy sections, and effectively adding just a slight touch of darker tone to his tenor. Zasimova has exactly the right combination of purity and strength in her soprano for her floating solo lines in the final ‘In paradisum’ section.
Given that this Requiem is rigidly Orthodox, one might ask, whom is this recording for? Obviously and rightly it is for those who wish to have a musical tribute to the Ukrainian fallen. It will also appeal to members of Ukrainian Church who will appreciate the liturgical message in the work, and will be familiar with the overall liturgical content. Quite apart from these considerations, anyone who responds to the great settings of Orthodox Liturgy, such as those by Rachmaninov or Gretchaninov, will enjoy this work, as it sits firmly in the tradition while harmoniously taking some of the choral effects just a little further. And it may well appeal, because of those choral sounds, and the essentially ritualistic and slow unfolding of musical idea, to those who enjoy the music of, for example, Górecki. Indeed, the ending has echoes of the Polish school, to beautiful effect.
The stereo sound has depth and clarity, with just about the right amount of natural reverberation to give the sense of space without muddying the words. I would imagine the multi-channel version, which I have not heard, would be all the more effective. There are comprehensive notes in the CD booklet, including synopses of each section, and the full texts.
One wishes this Requiem should never have been necessary. But it is, and this recording is a fitting commemoration.
Two Ukrainian requiems commemorating the 1932-1933 Holodomor are worth seeking out on YouTube:
Ukrainian-Canadian Lubomyr Melnyk’s Concert-Requiem is a continuous flow of violin set against dense minimalist piano, mesmerizing and haunting.
YouTube
There is also the passionate Holodomor Requiem by the Ukrainian composer Yevhen Stankovych (born 1942). It was given a very dramatic performance last November in the National Philharmonic Hall of Ukraine, conducted by Canadian Keri-Lynn Wilson. This is an unusual work – vividly post Soviet-Socialist Realist in its declamatory expression and melodic style, but anti-Soviet in its intent.
YouTube
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