Is San Diego experiencing a choral music revival, one as heady as when the late Robert Shaw conducted here in the late 1950’s? In the last month alone, three major works of choral repertory—Rachmaninoff’s “Vespers,” Berlioz’s “Requiem,” and J. S. Bach’s “B Minor Mass”—have been presented in major venues. This past weekend witnessed a virtual choral marathon: as soon as the San Diego Symphony and Master Chorale completed three performances of the Berlioz “Requiem” on Sunday afternoon, First United Methodist of San Diego Music Director Stanley Wicks picked up the baton Sunday evening (May 20) to begin a two-night stint of the “B Minor Mass.” Some intrepid instrumentalists from the San Diego Symphony, including Concertmaster Jeff Thayer, played all of those performances, a real marathon!

In terms of choral participation, Sunday’s “B Minor Mass” at the First United Methodist Church resembled a 19^th-century choral festival, with some 200 singers drawn from the Pacific Academy of Ecclesiastical Music (known locally as PACEM), the Masterwork Chorale and the First Methodist Chancel Choir. This number gave Wicks the power for forceful declamation in the most jubilant sections, but it also meant some sacrifice of agility. Like the proverbial wide turning radius of a battleship, a chorus of this magnitude does not major in subtlety. Wicks’ sluggish tempo and over-legato phrasing of the opening “Kyrie” did not begin on a promising note, but as the evening progressed, he opted for livelier and more energetic tempos; by the time we reached the “Cum Sancto Spiritu” of the “Gloria,” the chorus had shaken off its lethargy and was shaping phrases with some distinction. The most winning moments for the chorus came in the “Confetior” of the “Credo,” where the sections focused into a strong, resonant column of choral sound and the singers’ clean articulation enlivened the text, as was also the case in the brilliant “Et resurrexit,” where trumpets and timpani deftly punctuated every line.

Of the four vocal soloists, soprano Susan Lynn Dixon gave a consistently well-supported, fluent, and vocally attractive account of her assignments, including her resplendent solo “Laudamus te” and her sensitively phrased portion of the soprano and tenor duet “Domine Deus.” Richard Geiler, a tenor of light and slightly reedy quality, served the text well, but lacking a strong, ringing top, he did not hold up his part of the duo. Fortunately, the opulent, floating flute obbligato by De Marre McGill made that movement one of the evening’s most treasured moments In his first aria, bass-baritone Christopher Stephens’ rough, overly-accented approach to the rapid figuration made me think that he disliked singing Baroque music. However, when he returned in the more flowing and lyrical “Et in Spiritum Sanctum,” a sweeter portion of his voice blossomed, and he made some peace with this style. But next time, I hope to hear him sing Brahms rather than Bach. Mezzo-soprano Patricia McAfee’s darker color also favored the slower tempos, and her expressive, plaintive singing in the “Agnus Dei” brought out the pathos of both text and music. Paired with Dixon in the “Christe eleison” duet, however, her lack of flexibility and focus was exposed.

An ad hoc chamber orchestra of 32 instrumentalists, some of the city’s best players, assisted with consistently suave and polished lines and a solid sense of ensemble, although the high-ceilinged, modernist sanctuary of the First United Methodist sanctuary creates a booming, mushy acoustic that can muddle even the most articulate playing. Oddly, the room amplified the smallish orchestra but diffused the effect of the huge choral forces. Tricia Skye’s French Horn solo in the “Quoniam” was notable for its creamy, unblemished legato, one that most horn players only dream of executing in public. Resident organist Robert Plimpton’s rhythmically precise and fluid organ playing was central to the cohesion of the vast forces involved. If throwing on a low, rumbling 32-foot stop in the pedal line now and then—which did add a certain gravity—verged on gilding the lily, no one advertised this enterprise as a “period instrument” recreation.

The ”B Minor Mass” exists as a great mystery. We certainly don’t know why Bach wrote it, and it certainly was not performed (in its entirety, at least) during his lifetime. It stands as a monument to the great polyphonic tradition of Christian choral music, dressed up in elegant Baroque finery. It will never have the wide appeal of Handel’s more dramatic “Messiah,” but it offers a more profound spiritual experience to those who open themselves to its depths.