Perfection eludes `Pasión' premiere

By Richard Storm
For the Register-Guard

An event such as the Northwest premiere of Osvaldo Golijov's massive oratorio, "La Pasión Según San Marcos," after all the anticipation and publicity that preceded it, immediately inspires the question: Did it live up to its advance billing?

Yes and no. As advertised, there were torrents of enormously powerful music, performed at a very high level of excellence by the versatile choristers of the Schola Cantorum, ably supported by an orchestra dominated by percussion and brass, and augmented by vocal soloists and dancers.

There were also moments of quieter lyrical beauty, casting a reverential spell throughout the Hult Center's Silva Hall. Disappointingly, however, there were also patches of ragged choral entrances, sagging intonation and some plain flat singing.

This is an immense work, a composition that - while problematical in many aspects - demands nothing short of technical perfection. Perfection, often reached at this festival in the past, was not achieved Friday night, but enough of the power of the piece was evident to make a lasting impression.

Golijov has set himself a daunting task: to create a contemporary oratorio that might rival those of Johann Sebastian Bach in spiritual impact and relevance for our time. By choosing texts generally based on the Gospel of Mark, itself almost minimalist in style, he has committed himself to matching the saint's plain talk about eternal verities with music of direct impact, music that speaks the language of everyday.

And, by choosing a structure that, like Bach's passions, alternates complexity with simplicity, setting classical style against "popular" music, Golijov has added another level of challenge, one that remains unmet. If the test of great art is what you take home with you, the images or sounds that continue to resonate, that change you in some undefinable yet profound manner, then this composition is an honorable failure - impressive and admirable, but not great art.

One reason is the disproportionate use of music of such high intensity that it soon numbs the ear and deadens the mind. Granted, popular music is often relentlessly high-decibel, but it is seldom designed to convey a message as important as that associated with the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. In this case, the texts set to this music are about deeply important things, our own salvation among them. But the constant aural assault finally leaves us numb.

When he backs off a bit and provides a moment of repose, as in the lovely music given, surprisingly, to Judas Iscariot as he serves supper to Jesus, as well as that sung by Jesus as he creates the Communion tradition in that meal, Golijov gives us a welcome but too rare opportunity to reflect on the spiritual matters at hand.

This contrast of public and private expression lies at the heart of the power of Bach's work. When it is employed by Golijov, as in Peter's lovely song to the "Colorless Moon," we are in the presence of great music. When the heavy artillery of massive choral-orchestral power is applied without pause, however, we tend to resist its content, as in the way the magical opening moments, in which the use of a fishnet in a dance to mysterious percussion leads us to think of the traditional image of Jesus as the "fisher of men," are followed by street cries and fierce choral outbursts that simply go on too long, obliterating the initial mental image.

All of this being said, it must be noted that, with few exceptions, the large forces employed performed with great dedication and impressive technical command of a difficult score. Of a particular note: the way in which the chorus was able to negotiate tricky changes of key and the way it could produce tone of both ugly ferocity and angelic beauty. The skill of the large percussion section, the essential driving force of this score, was truly impressive, as was the tireless and energetic conducting of Maria Guinand.

The enthusiasm of the audience, whose applause grew in great waves after the silence that followed the concluding "Amen," provided evidence that this score excited and stirred them. Whether it delivered the more profound impact of great art remains to be seen.

Richard Storm reviews classical music for the Sarasota (Fla.) Herald-Tribune.