Commissioned for the Cultural Olympiad
2001-2004 and premiered just prior to the commencement of the Athens Olympics
in 2004, Orion is a crossover album of sorts, bridging the structures
and harmonics of modern classical minimalist writing and the revival of ‘world
music’ textures. It’s a recording of the premiere performance given by the
Philip Glass Ensemble and several ‘big-name’ soloists from disparate musical
traditions. Each movement refers to the national tradition of the soloist,
linked by improvisatory pieces from the soloists into a pan-global symphony of
commonality. Glass writes on the motivations of the project:
“In the same way that
civilizations are united by common themes, history and customes, we singularly
and together are united by the commonality of the natural world – rivers,
oceans… And the stars… the stars unite us, regardless of country, ethnicity,
and even time. Orion, the largest constellation in the night sky, can be seen
in all seasons from both the Northern and Southern hemispheres. It seems that
almost every civilization has taken inspiration from Orion. As the work
progressed, each of the composers/performers, including myself, drew from that
inspiration in creating their work.”
As a concept work then, Orion is not
unlike a film score. Motivated by imagery and ideas, the music must stand more
on its own here than any film score of course, but the programmatic nature of
the work, and the film career of the composer, make it an item of interest to
film music aficionados. The first movement is ‘Australia’, and features
didgeridoo soloist Mark Atkins – a collaborator of Glass from Naqoyqatsi and
Undertow. The player’s gutteral didgeridoo dances with female vocalist,
flute and piccolo arpeggios over the lengthy but hypnotic movement. ‘Interlude:
Australia and China’ is a duel for didgeridoo and Wu Man’s dextrous pipa, a
fast-paced prelude to the more meditative pairing of the pipa with the Ensemble
in ‘China’, many of Glass’ familiar motifs lending themselves easily to the
plucked instrument. (Wu Man also collaborated with Glass recently on the opera Sound
of a Voice.) While the allegro of ‘China’ isn’t quite as hypnotic as
‘Australia’ (it would have been interesting to hear pipa solo part
unaccompanied though), its busyness is fascinating on a more technical level,
even if it doesn’t quite achieve the emotional climax it seems to be heading for
at one point.
Ashley MacIsaac (who worked with Glass on Woyzeck)
lends his fiddle to the highlight movement of the performance, ‘Canada’. Overexposure to the Celtic chic of much modern film music has inured me to the
charms of the instruments of the Emerald Island, but somehow the collaboration
of the Ensemble with MacIsaac is fresh and exciting. A delicate fiddle solo
sets up the first half of the piece in counterpoint with an ethereal vocal and
a rolling keyboard melody, bursting into a minimalist Celtic jig about half way
through. I can’t say I have wondered till now what kind of theme Philip Glass
would have written for a film like The Shipping News would sound like,
but ‘Canada’ answers that unanswered question. The second interlude, for
MacIsaac and Foday Musa Suso (from Glass’s Powaqqatsi) is a lively blend
of animated fiddle melody and the unusual texture of the plucked kora (a
12-string harp lute). One of the few movements that doesn’t quite pay on the
promise of the collaboration is the fifteen minute ‘Zambia’, an extended
journey for kora and the Ensemble.
South American rhythms and motifs percolate
‘Brazil’, as Glass’s collaborators from Aquas de Amazonia, UAKTI, lend
their home made percussion and woodwinds to colour the ensemble with a light-hearted
piece. After the final interlude, for UAKTI and sitar soloists Ravi Shankar and
Gaurav Mazumdar, Glass and long-time collaborator and mentor Ravi Shankar
present one of the performance highlights – ‘India’. The composer’s interest in
minimalism apparently came from his study of eastern scales while studying
under Shankar. It shows – there’s a natural synergy between the sitar timbre
and the rhythms and harmonic structures Glass writes for it.
The last piece (for ‘Greece’ no less) could have been the kind of cheesy world-is-one ballad that one imagines
Yanni or Vangelis writing for the occasion. What Glass provides is the most
overtly melodic cue of the score, an elaboration on a folk song ‘Tzivaeri’ with
vocals by Eleftheria Arvanitaki. The rest of the soloists join in on this
piece, but the colours blend in the mix and it’s hard at times to tell what
each instrument is playing. It’s more emotional than the preceding material on
the two-disc album, but that’s by Philip Glass standards – there’s nothing of
the bathos a lesser dramatists might have poured on here for the occasion. Once
again, the fluidity of minimalist composition is established – a broad
emotional response can be elicited from relatively restrained parameters.
It’s not film music, but to fans of the
composer’s work that should not matter. This journey across continents from
Glass is a memorable concept album, and while it’s a little overlong (due to a
couple of long pieces that aren’t as rewarding as most of the cues are),
exemplary performances and a broad range of compositional ideas make it an
excellent journey.
Michael McLennan
Rating: 4