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Mysterious Majestic Music New York
David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center
05/23/2024 - & May 24, 25, 28, 2024
Sofia Gubaidulina: Concerto for Viola and Orchestra
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Requiem, K. 626 – Ave verum corpus, K. 618
Amanda Forsythe (Soprano), Cecelia Hall (Mezzo-soprano), Nicholas Phan (Tenor), Michael Sumuel (Bass-baritone), Antoine Tamestit (Viola)
Music Sacra, Kent Trittle (Director), New York Philharmonic Orchestra, Jaap van Zweden (Conductor)
S. Gubaidulina (© The Japan Art Association/The Sankei Shimbun)
“I am a religious person...and by ‘religion’ I mean re‑ligio, the re‑tying of a bond...restoring the legato of life. Life divides man into many pieces...There is no weightier occupation than the recomposition of spiritual integrity through the composition of music.”
Sofia Gubaidulina
To say that Sofia Gubaidulina’s music is indescribable is not a compliment. It is a literal truth.
Just as her antecedents were a goulash of Tatar, Jewish, Orthodox Christian (and probably etcetera), her music is austere and expressive, modern and ancient, dark and luminous. All in one spellbinding package, where only jejune verbal clichés make a half‑hearted stab at writing about it.
Her Viola Concerto, played last night in a New York Phiharmonic preview by Antoine Tamestit, was written originally for Yuri Bashnet, and is the most awesome of the 20th Century. William Walton wrote a terrific showpiece. The ailing Béla Bartók couldn’t finish his own work.
Sofia Gubaidulina, though, wrote pure music, 34 minutes of cadenzas which didn’t feel like technical exercises, a large orchestra with large percussion sounds, and a single solo opening repeated note for French violist Antoine Tamestit. The D was played in the lowest string, toward the middle at the highest viola note. Yet, in one more arcane setting, Ms. Gubaidulina gave us not a D but a D sharp in one of the many quarter‑tone sections.
After this, we had a slow, picture of instrument and orchestra. That is mostly slow. For another of two or three cadenzas, Mr. Tamestit played trilling triple‑string. And if my ears didn’t deceive me, some of those trills were again quarters notes.
Add to this four solo strings, their instruments tuned down a quarter, others tuned up a quarter.
Yet here was Ms. Gubaidulina’s mystery, Neither the virtuosity nor the note changes, nor an angelic celesta ringing were done for their own sake. To repeat the platitude, the music was not quite indescribable. In fact, it brought us–almost against our will–into another universe. Or almost another universe.
A. Tamestit (© lenaka.net)
I had never heard Yuri Bashnet’s performance, or the Concerto at all before last night. But I was moved three ways. First, at the glory of this performance, with Mr. Tamestit and the New York Philharmonic under Jaap van Zweden. Second, under the emotional mood set by Ms. Gubaidulina. Third, most puzzling, moved to another cosmos, a cosmos just a few inches of our own.
An astounding experience.
Ms. van Zweden brought us to Mozart works in the second half. Mozart’s Requiem tied to his Ave verum corpus, both composed in the same year of his death. The conductor brought forth a quartet of soloists, each of whom had a personality of their own. Soprano Amanda Forsythe had trouble reaching her upper range–but down in the middle her purity was unassailable. Mezzo Cecelia Hall was softer but always engaging. Bass Michael Sumuel was mostly commanding (though overwhelmed by the basset horn solo). As for Nicholas Phan, this is a tenor of the most colorful and eloquent timbre.
Add to this the 50-voice Musica Sacra (and sounding far greater) directed by Ken Trittle, and a vigorous–almost hearty rendition by Maestro van Zweden.
True, that opening should have the same mystery as the opening of Mahler’s First or Beethoven’s Ninth. The mystery belonged last night to Ms. Gubaidulina. To Mozart belonged a vibrant encomium for those on the road to heaven.
Harry Rolnick
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