A German Requiem staged at the site of a plane crash might sound like provocation for its own sake.
Insula Orchestra and Accentus turn it into something more troubling — and more persuasive.
What begins as an ambiguous theatrical trope hardens into a political statement, asking what faith, responsibility, and rebuilding look like in a world shaped by collective catastrophe.
David Bobée’s arresting dramatisation of Brahms’ German Requiem was a poignant statement that blurred the lines between story and current affairs. At the site of a plane crash survivors — and later victims — are reborn with a sense of hope, the act of rebuilding brought about by faith.
Soprano Eleanor Lyon and baritone John Brancy are a warm addition to this already much-loved uplifting work, bringing soft timbres, and smooth edges. They bear witness with tenderness and relatability. A shared experience.
Accentus Choir are one of the few guarantees in the European classical music scene at the moment. Their execution here is remarkable, their acting and stage movement an integral part of the storytelling. Bobée’s stage direction asks a lot of them, posing the question whether many of them already have opera chorus experience. Some of the scenery changes are a little clunky so perhaps not, but this doesn’t detract. They are on point at nearly every stage, with only one moment of wobbliness in the ensemble at the climax of Herr, lehrer doch mich.
The stage design – the scene of an aeroplane after it has crashed to the ground – opens like an episode of Lost. The cause of the crash is ambiguous. Passengers and crew stumble around. Efforts are made to make contact with the outside world. Hope flickers on the display screen of a still-working radio found in the cockpit. At this stage the story is bordering on a trope, but when the backdrop displays present day scenes of the impact of war, the political messaging is unequivocal and, unmistakably and suitably uncomfortable. Here is the heart of the dramatisation when ambiguity is replaced with clarity, bringing us all too close for comfort, art speaking to the proverbial choir, perpetrators turning their heads.
The extended stage at La Seine Musicale sees Insula Orchestra in a narrow pit formation, strings widened, woodwind and brass (effectively) all in one line. This exposes melodic lines in various orchestral parts not previously heard before. This combined with the story on stage makes for an intimate telling of what always feels like a grand sometimes oversized work. The result is a chamber like scale that underlines the joy in what could be easily be assumed to be a sombre work.
As a format – dramatising what convention has deemed as a concert piece was once seen as a rebellious act that made the cognoscenti clutch their pearls in horror. It now presents as innovation, one that invites curious audiences with an appetite for visual storytelling. Bobée’s German Requiem doesn’t have the emotional teeth of Matt Collishaw’s multimedia presentation of Faure’s Requiem Sky Burial – that really got under the skin in the most haunting of ways. Instead, Bobée’s success is in recalibrating Brahms Requiem. Here, dance and acrobatics achieved something quite remarkable. Beautiful feats of contortion and strength were, at the same time dark, painful, and highly charged – movement inspired by and respectful of the musical sequences it was inspired by. Salvatore Cappello’s acrobatic depiction of Jesus on the cross and ascending to heaven was a profoundly moving moment.
This visual storytelling as a whole fits well, and its origins also raise questions. A downed aircraft was the setting for a student production featuring the same set and production team (including the choreographed signer on stage) in April 2025. Tragédie was the graduation performance of Studio 7 at the École du Nord, depicting not so much an air crash but a generation inheriting a world that needs to be fixed. The score is entirely different, but the concept remains, and here, set against Brahms’ music, the message fused to the Easter story resonates. There are two ways of looking at their reusing of material: au courant in its resourcefulness, empowering a generation of young creatives with ideas that secure their place in the world. Or if you’re more sceptical, maybe a little exploitative? The programme notes hint at the provenance, although they don’t make it explicit. The former explanation sits more comfortably than the latter.
Insula and Laurence Equilbey’s genre bending endeavours are similar to the more education-driven work Aurora Orchestra do in the UK. Their reach is in part built on the feat of memorisation alongside dramatic contextualisation. Here, Insula and Accentus lead on a resolute pioneering spirit of pushing boundaries to make people feel ever so slightly uncomfortable. The output from both organisations is visually driven and achieves what straight classical music TV broadcasts and streams often fails to do in comparison: engaging visual storytelling. It surely is only a matter of time before UK execs, orchestral programmers and concert promoters cotton on to the value of the format. I only hope that Insula get more of their recognition for being the early adopters of innovative partnerships.
📸 Julian Benhamou
