Seen and Heard International Concert Review
One Tower and Two Tasty Trifles: San Francisco Symphony
and Chorus, vocal soloists, organ soloist, percussion soloists,
Michael Tilson Thomas, Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco, January
7, 2005 (HS)
Léos Janacek was not
a religious man. He grew up in the Eastern Orthodox Church but openly
professed a vague agnosticism during his lifetime. Like most composers
with a dramatic bent, he could not resist writing a mass, and, Janacek
being Janacek, there is nothing else quite like the Glagolitic
Mass in the musical literature. Typically of this master of
musical concision, the text is abbreviated from the lengthy Orthodox
liturgy. It is in Old Slavonic, and it brims with power. I can't
vouch for how well the chorus and soloists handled the Old Church
Slavonic text, but the voices were preternaturally unanimous in
their clarity of speech, and the sounds they and the orchestra produced
left a Davies Hall vibrating with joy in this first subscription
concert of the 2005 calendar year. Music director Michael Tilson
Thomas conducted.
If Janacek was the main
course, then a series of quirky duets by the late Luciano Berio
opened the program with a tart little hors d'oeuvre, and "Island
Music," a modestly charming marimba-fest by conductor Michael
Tilson Thomas, offered a sort of tropical salad intermezzo. Charming
and as well played as they were, they seemed inconsequential after
hearing the meaty Janacek mass.
Written about the same
time as the magnificent Sinfonietta,
the Glagolitic Mass uses
many of the same kinds of musical material. Like the Sinfonietta,
it begins with a fanfare that relies on open fifths and octaves
to create a spacious effect. It also ends with a fanfare, richer
in musical texture (although, unlike the Sinfonietta,
it's a newly developed theme, not the same music as the opening
revisited). Also like the Sinfonietta,
it keeps the orchestra busy with its own material, even while the
chorus and soloists layer their own contributions on top.
Was the composer trying
to say that religion operates on a different plane, in a different
sphere that complements rather than integrates with regular life?
He wrote this mass, according to biographers, responding to a personal
challenge from the archbishop. Janacek had been lamenting the poor
state of recent church music, and the archbishop basically said,
"OK, let's see you do better."
Janacek certainly did
that. There is much to chew on here, even some musical allusions
that say the composer is not the firm believer one expects in a
religious work. The wavering, Debussy-esque whole-tone figure in
the Credo, to which he sets the word "verjuju" ("I
believe") sounds either equivocal or quietly ecstatic, depending
on your religious bent. It returns again and again, often after
the music spins into much more complex territory. This is the longest
and most complex section, and Tilson Thomas plays it out like a
grand chess game. The contrasts between the hushed
choral utterances and the drive of the orchestral development was
mesmerizing.
Janacek amps up the
fervor with choral outbursts, then hands the top musical line to
the soprano or the tenor singing at the top of their ranges. Canadian
soprano Measha Brueggergosman and Russian tenor Sergei Larin sailed
through their work with the requisite feeling. Mezzo Jill Groves
and bass Tigran Martirossian handled their smaller parts equally
well. They made a fine vocal quartet, one I'd love to hear in, say,
the Verdi Requiem.
After a somewhat mushy
start in the opening fanfare and "Gospodi poliluj," which
corresponds to the Kyrie, Tilson Thomas got things moving better
in the "Slava" (Gloria) and finally reached a powerful
level of intensity in the "Verjuju." The intensity hardly
wavered in the "Svet, svet" (Holy, holy) and languorous
calm of the "Agneba bosij" (Agnus Dei) cast a welcome
balm over the proceedings. In a wonderful touch, Janacek has each
soloist in turn sing the line, "Have mercy upon us," and
sit down, having completed his or her work.
Janacek could have ended
the mass with the placid repose of the Agnus Dei, but instead he
turns to the organ for a rousing solo finale that gave the brilliant
pipes of the Davies Hall Ruffati organ a workout under the fingers
of John Walker, who has appeared with this orchestra several times.
The orchestra returns for a fanfare-tinged recessional march that
finishes with strongly punched chords. This is colorful stuff, through
and through, and the cumulative effect is guaranteed to lift an
audience in spirit.
In contrast to the sheer
power of this mass, a set of miniature duets by the contemporary
Italian composer Berio opened the program with a series of delicate
moments. Berio wrote 37 of these unaccompanied duets, meant to be
played by accomplished violinists and their students or younger
colleagues. They are also little homages to other musicians, beginning
of course with Bartok, who wrote his own books of unaccompanied
string duets.
Violinists of the orchestra
paired off with young musicians from the symphony's Youth Orchestra,
each playing one of the duets in turn, as prescribed by Berio's
own instructions. They did 12 of the duets, then ended, as Berio
suggests, with the full complement doing a more fully orchestrated
version of No. 20. For me, the most affecting ones were No. 6 (dedicated
to Bruno Maderna), an off-kilter waltz played by Chen Zhao and the
youth orchestra's Tony Song, No. 24 (for violin virtuoso Aldo Bennici),
a folk-like nocturne played by John Chisholm and Michelle Choo,
and No. 33 (for Lorin Maazel), a bravura piece of finger-busting
virtuosity played by concertmaster Alexander Barantschik and Hannah
P. Tarley.
Thomas' piece, which
debuted in 2003 with his other American orchestra, the New World
Symphony, uses four marimbas and a smattering of miscellaneous percussion.
The melodic instrument of choice for the modern percussionist, the
marimba can make some rich sounds, especially when sustained by
a rapid "drum roll" technique. Played at piano or pianissimo,
the sound can be haunting. However, a marimba alone, or even four
marimbas, is still a pretty mellow sound. There isn't a lot of opportunity
for contrast, and a half hour of marimba music, even as brilliantly
played as this was by the symphony's principal percussionist Jack
Van Gheem and marimba specialist Nancy Zeltsman, easily slips into
tedium.
It didn't start out
that way. Tilson Thomas begins with a slow, quiet introduction,
which develops an almost Bach-like contrapuntal texture before segueing
into a simple, catchy tune that one could easily imagine being played
by a Caribbean steel drum band. Syncopated, jaunty, easily hummable,
it becomes the "A" theme for a rondo that grows increasingly
complex. As interesting as the musical development is, the monochromatic
nature of mallets on wooden slats goes on for several choruses too
long. Something more needs to happen to vary the colors, either
the sound of a different melodic instrument or more varied timbres
in the percussion.
In his composer's note,
Tilson Thomas refers to Balinese gamelan music and the way his friend
and maverick American composer Lou Harrison evoked the sound in
much of his music after visiting the islands. A little more of the
colorful sonic variety Harrison got out of hubcaps and coffee tins
would have served this piece better. As it is, it's a pleasant divertissement
for about two-thirds of its 30 minutes, and if offers virtuosic
opportunities for the two primary marimba soloists.
As a laid-back tune-up
for incendiary Janacek, however, it was just about perfect.
Harvey Steiman