At long last, a fitting American Requiem

Excess difficulty has been another impression of Rouse's score, which proved too demanding for its original commissioner. Grant Gershon, the Master Chorale's music director, became the first to rise to Rouse's challenge of raising the rafters. And that he did Sunday, with trumpets pealing to summon the dead or, when God is described in all His majestic glory, with percussion storming the land and the chorus describing the indescribable.

But under it all is a magnificent lyricism, which is the real Berlioz influence. Small, seemingly unimportantly melodic or rhythmic details swell into wildly unpredictable castles of glory.

Interpolated poetry by Siegfried Sassoon, Ben Jonson, John Milton and Michelangelo (in Italian) serves as text for the baritone solos. The soloist is the individual. The chorus, which sings the Mass text, is the masses. Rouse clings closely in his vocal lines to both the sound of words and their sentiment.

In the end, Rouse's is a Requiem of wondrous mixed emotions. Death's inexhaustible fury exhausts baritone, chorus and orchestra. The Los Angeles Children's Chorus, which sat with impressive patience for 70 minutes before limning heaven's light in sweet tones in the Sanctus, became the voice of fresh hope.

But hope and hopelessness can never coalesce. The final resting point of the traditional Mass is the Agnus Dei. Rouse ends it with the chorus melody evaporating into thin air. Strings and percussion fade away in a shimmer. The baritone quietly sings, for the first time in Latin, "Grant them rest." Then come the startling, potentially heart-attack-inducing sextuple forte hammer blows of chimes and a bass drum.

A simple folk song then, for the chorus and the children, is balm. Sylvan simultaneously wrestling with Michelangelo's wishful ode, "On Immortality," is not. Vernacular caroling verges on Hallmark sentimentality, but complexity creeps in. The baritone sings "Amen" -- five descending unaccompanied notes. The Requiem ends where it begins, outside emotion, without conclusion or answers. We know nothing of death except its existence.

The Master Chorale and its orchestra have been making enormous strides technically under Gershon's direction. Rouse's Requiem is their biggest challenge to date. The performance was comprehensive and exalted.

A recording is now a must. Telarc has pulled out of its commitment to make one. Other labels should treat that as a stroke of luck.

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mark.swed@latimes.com