Vincent PERSICHETTI (1915-1987)
Mass (1960) [17:10]
William SCHUMAN (1910-1992)
Carols of Death (1958) [10:20]
William BOLCOM (b. 1938)
The Mask (1990) [19:00]
Irving FINE (1914-1962)
The Hour-Glass (1949) [13:13]
Lukas FOSS (1922-2009)
Psalms (1956) [13:32]
Meredith Ruduski (soprano); Lisa Sunset Holt (soprano); Carla Flores (alto); Sarah Bannon (alto); John Len Wiles (tenor); Eric Neuville (baritone); Dwight Bigler (piano); Alena Gorina (piano);
University of Texas Chamber Singers/James Morrow
rec. 21-22 May 2007, University Presbyterian Church, Austin, Texas
NAXOS 8.559358 [73:15]
This is the second Naxos recital with the same title from these performers. The first (8.559299) was recorded in January 2006 and features two of the same composers as here.
The present disc opens with Vincent Persichetti’s Mass of 1960. Caroline
Polk O’Meara’s booklet notes tell us that the work was conceived more for
liturgical than for concert use, and first impressions confirm this. But first
impressions can deceive too, and this mass is not really the austere, even
severe composition that I initially thought. Repeated listening reveals a
retrained, even understated work, but not an austere one. Most of the text
is set to one note per syllable, and this, combined with the excellent diction
of the University of Texas Chamber Singers, ensures that we hear every word.
The work is based around a single theme, announced in unison at the outset.
Only in the Sanctus does the music feel less focused, less convincing in the
way it relates to the text. The Agnus Dei, however, wherein the composer relaxes
a little his rule on syllabic word setting, is totally successful, the work
closing serenely and touchingly on a bare fifth - not on a unison as the notes
erroneously inform us. Getting to know this work has been a rewarding experience,
and in spite of one or two difficult corners, it would make a most satisfying
project for any competent amateur choir seeking to explore lesser known repertoire.
William Schuman’s almost contemporaneous and discouragingly entitled Carols
of Death is more of a challenge, both for the performers and for the listener.
The three pieces of which the work is composed are settings of words by Walt
Whitman. The first two are largely homophonic, with a fair amount of chromatic
writing mixed with extensive use of diatonic dissonance. There is some affecting
word painting, particularly in the first song, and the second, which sets
some of the same words as did Vaughan Williams in Toward the Unknown Region,
opens with the words “Dearest thou now, O Soul” repeatedly passed from one
voice to another in a way that presages John Adams. The third is a meditative
setting of a single Whitman stanza, the music tender and touching, as the
poet launches the invitation “Come lovely and soothing death.” Less immediately
attractive that the Persichetti, the work similarly rewards patient attention.
With The Hour-Glass, the composer Irving Fine makes his first appearance
in my recorded collection. I’ll be making sure it isn’t the last. Composed
in 1949, this is the earliest music on this disc. It is also, I think, the
finest. This is perhaps confirmed, consciously or unconsciously, by the cover
photo. Setting six short lyrics by Ben Jonson, the composer, in spite of a
fairly advanced musical language, avoids any suspicion of anachronism. This
is virtuoso choral writing, with even more challenging parts for the six soloists
who more than justify their identification in the booklet and above. Indeed,
it is the kind of visionary choral writing that requires great faith on the
part of the composer. The first piece, for example, demands pinpoint accuracy
in fast moving polyphony, without which it simply would not work. Most composers
wouldn’t have dared. This superb choir succeeds admirably, thus rewarding
the composer’s faith and vision. The words are always clear, too, thanks both
to the performers’ skill and to the composer’s remarkable mastery of choral
writing. The six songs are very varied, but each is as beautiful as the others.
And I choose the word “beautiful” deliberately and without hesitation; anyone
with doubts is invited to sample the second song, “Have you seen the white
lily grow”, a simple and timeless setting of these lovely words, hugely respectful,
matter of fact, even, in its way of presenting them, and very, very easy on
the ear.
As is now the case with many Naxos releases, you have to go to the company’s
website if you want to follow the sung texts. Finding them within Ben Jonson’s
works is a challenge, as the composer obviously searched and read widely before
he found the texts he wanted. Lukas Foss’s Psalms is easier in this
respect. The first of the three pieces takes verses from Psalm 122, “I will
life up mine eyes unto the hills”, the second, Psalm 98, “Sing unto the Lord
a new song”, and the third, Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd.” In any event,
there is much repetition of words and very little text is actually used. The
work is scored for mixed choir, with two vocal soloists, and two pianos. The
first movement is calm, with many beautiful moments, and seems a fine response
to the calm certitude of the words. The second, by far the longest of the
three, features a complex polyphonic texture, including a fugal passage which
seems mischievous and playful where sheer, unbuttoned joy is what’s wanted.
Calm is restored for the brief meditation which is the third movement.
The problem of availability of the texts is compounded in The Mask.
Bolcom is the only composer featured on this disc who is still alive, and
his piece is the most recent of the programme. The original idea for the piece
came from pianist Natalie Hinderas, and indeed there is an imposing piano
part to this cycle of five songs, plus, strangely placed just before the short
final song, a solo piano piece entitled “Interlude for Natalie”. The five
poems are by twentieth-century African American writers, and, according to
the note, deal with “the theme of the mask and hidden identity.” Whilst one
can fully understand the Naxos reasoning, printing out the words then storing
them somewhere afterwards is, at very least, a nuisance. A pity, too, since
we need help to find our way properly into this fine and challenging work.
The notes refer to the “deep diversity” of the composer’s musical language,
and indeed, from the second song, which is a cheerful ragtime – though with
a serious heart – we pass directly to a piano introduction to the third song
which could almost have been written by Messiaen.
Listening to these works without the score it is nonetheless obvious that all the performances from this fine choir, its soloists and two pianists are outstanding. The recording is superb. Altogether, this is an issue not to be missed by those for whom the programme is attractive.
William Hedley
A superb recital of twentieth-century American choral music.