This fine film by Michael Stillwater provides us with
an insightful portrait of one of the most bankable of modern composers. Morten
Lauridsen is celebrated mainly – perhaps, by many people, exclusively
– for his vocal music. Though it’s clear from
his
website that he has composed works in other genres it is the vocal music
on which this film concentrates. That’s understandable since the film
is part of a projected series entitled
Song without Borders.
Much of the footage is shot in and around Lauridsen’s home on the remote
Waldron Island in Washington State – he also has a base in Los Angeles,
where he is Professor of Composition at the University of Southern California,
his alma mater. The composer’s Waldron Island home is called Crum’s
Castle, a former general store which he bought in a very run-down state. It
still looks a bit ramshackle – in a nice way – but any shortcomings
in terms of creature comforts are more than compensated by its location. It
overlooks the water – next stop Canada – and as the island is
so sparsely populated there’s little to disturb the pristine beauty
except the sounds of nature, namely birds and the lapping waves. This is clearly
inspirational for Lauridsen.
The film makes much of the natural beauty of Lauridsen’s environment
and the very sympathetic scenic camerawork is a major feature of the film
– much of the scenery is jaw-droppingly beautiful. There is no commentary.
Instead we hear a lot of reflections by Lauridsen, either as voice-over or
spoken directly to camera. A number of musicians and artists offer observations
about his work, including the composers, Ola Gjeilo and Paul Mealor as well
as the conductor, Paul Salamunovic. The latter is the conductor emeritus of
the Los Angeles Master Chorale and it was for him and that choir that Lauridsen
wrote one of his most celebrated works,
Lux Aeterna. Indeed, it was
the
highly
enthusiastic review by my colleague John Phillips of Salamunovic’s
premiere recording of the work that alerted me to Lauridsen’s music.
I bought the disc as a result and so it’s to John that I owe my initial
awakening to Morten Lauridsen’s art.
It’s not the Salamunovic recording of
Lux Aeterna that is included
on the soundtrack to this film. Instead the equally fine recording by Polyphony
and Stephen Layton is used (
review).
Other music featured in the film includes the
Madrigali, in which
Paul Mealor conducts an evidently good chamber choir, Con Anima. They have
recorded those pieces (
review)
and it looks as if the sessions, with the composer in attendance, were included
in the film. Other recordings by The Singers/Minnesota Choral Artists and
by The Dale Warland Singers are heard.
Another ensemble is featured:
Volti,
a professional chamber choir from San Francisco. Sadly, I don’t think
they’ve recorded any of Lauridsen’s pieces. That’s a pity
because they are truly excellent in the excerpts we hear in the film, where
we see them in rehearsal with Lauridsen in attendance. Inevitably, perhaps,
the film leads up to Lauridsen’s rapt
O magnum mysterium and
it’s Volti who sing it; they do it wonderfully well.
Volti’s conductor, Robert Geary is well versed in conducting contemporary
vocal music and I suspect that much of the music that he and Volti perform
is an awful lot more complex and chromatic – or dissonant – than
Lauridsens’s. Geary makes an insightful comment. He tells us that in
his estimation Lauridsen comes closer than any other American composer to
understanding what deep meditation is all about and to bringing that forth
in a musical way.
This is an excellent film. We gain a good understanding of Morten Lauridsen
and what makes him and his music tick. There’s some beautiful music
to hear and the scenic photography is stunning. You may be like me when you
watch a documentary and tend to skip the closing credits. Don’t do that
on this occasion because if you do you’ll miss hearing in full another
of Lauridsen’s most appealing pieces: the serene
Sure on this Shining
Light.
The bonus features include an abbreviated version of the film [56:45] and
a number of shorter items. These include Commentaries [9:16] in which various
people, including several who have participated in the performances shown
in the main film, pay tribute to the composer. The other bonuses are, frankly,
‘commercials’ of one sort or another. I don’t think they
add a great deal to the package.
Anyone who admires this composer will want to see this film and if you don’t
know Lauridsen’s music or if you have heard it but can’t get on
with it Michael Stillwater’s perceptive documentary might just open
the door for you.
John
Quinn