The War in Heaven is described as "a large-scale cantata for 2
solo voices, half chorus, full chorus and orchestra". The texts, printed in
full in the booklet are, very simply summed up, a contrast between Old
English biblical for the chorus, and a monologue by Sam Shepard for the
soloists.
Gavin Bryars writes, "in spite of the apparently apocalyptic tone of the
title . the piece is not a religious one but focuses rather on the
reflective humanism and ironies of the American text." The title indeed
refers to "the fall of the rebellious angels" in the book of Genesis, but
the 'angelic fall' is something we can interpret in our own way.
This is music in the grand Romantic manner, with oceans of rich, Richard
Strauss-ian lushness painted with a colourful and cinematic brush. The
inclusion of tuned percussion over the soundstage heightens these effects,
adding sparkle and pointing out climactic rises and falls. This is a highly
impressive score and a work into which you can dive and swim, looking both
down into the depths and up into the sky with a sense of genuine awe and
wonder. Depending on how you listen, this is a mass of expressive moments or
one single massive expressive monument. Bryars' music is nothing if not
richly textured and satisfyingly tonal, but he spins his fields of music
into threads which are cast out in lines which rise and fall, have their
moments, but never gel into something you would call a real 'tune'. I am
sure I will get into trouble with this. I certainly don't insist that music
should of necessity have a juicy melody which we can all hum after the
concert, but this is the kind of idiom which keeps us in an opulent
waiting-room, our ears longing for the piece to crystallize into something
other than plush meandering: a real 'wow' to top all of the other 'wow'
moments which have been rolling towards us like ocean waves for forty
minutes or so.
So yes, I like
The War in Heaven, and the performance and this
applause-framed live recording from Amsterdam are both excellent, but I also
find it frustrating on numerous levels. This is the kind of piece - studded
like jewels with moments of stunning gorgeousness - about which listeners
need to make up their own minds. I would urge you to try it, especially if
you are already keen on pieces in the nature of Elgar's
The Dream of
Gerontius.
Epilogue from G is from Gavin Bryars' third opera, which is
written on the subject of Gutenberg, the 'Master printer, formerly of
Strasbourg and Mainz'. In this scene the older Gutenberg reflects on his
achievements, his weary tone and desire 'So machen wir ein End' expressed in
music with a slow and quasi-Wagnerian atmosphere. A fittingly dour
conclusion. The best music is sad music.
Dominy Clements