apokryphos
Chicago Tribune
'Apokryphos' dazzles with CSO
"Although Bernard Rands spells the title of his newest orchestral work, "apokryphos," in lowercase letters, it is very much an uppercase piece. Big in its scoring for solo soprano, large orchestra and 180-voice chorus, this often powerfully dramatic music nevertheless pierces the heart with a dark, disturbing intimacy. Its world premiere [May 8, 2003] at Symphony Center by the orchestra that commissioned it, the Chicago Symphony, with Daniel Barenboim conducting, was an important event.
The Pulitzer Prize-winning, British-born American composer knows what it means to live in exile — self-imposed, in his case. Indeed, exile is the defining idea behind "apokryphos," a large-scale choral symphony written in memory of Margaret Hillis, founder and longtimei director of the Chicago Symphony Chorus who died in 1998.
"The idea is explored via texts by exiled Jewish poets writing in German (Heinrich Heine, Else Lawker-Schuller, Franz Werfel, Nelly Sachs, Paul Celan), alternating with English texts drawn from the Apocrypha, which, as Rands has pointed out, is a book in exile from the approved biblical canon. The poems are given to the solo soprano, the apocryphal texts to the massed voices.
"The result is a profound meditation on the vulnerability of civiliazation in the face of monstrous evil. Although grounded in the Holocaust, "apokryphos" resonates with a sense of humanity that feels timeless. One is left with the sense of spiritual renewal rising like a phoenix from the ashes of unspeakable cruelty and destruction.
"Apokryphos" is laid out like a musical tapestry in 14 discrete sections. Associations with Bach's "St. Matthew Passion" are inescapable. Not only does the wondrous German soprano Angela Denoke function like Bach's storytelling Evangelist, but the chorus sometimes behaves like the rabble in Bachs masterpiece — witness the tumultuous shouts and laughter that punctuate the return of "Blessed are you, O God."
"The precise and lively instrumental craftsmanship, highly personal lyricism and vivid intensity of expression that mark the best of Rands' mature works are fully evident in "apokryphos." The emotional tension that builds from the piano solo at the beginning through the images of suffering and death that suffuse the central sections to the uneasy consolation of the final section is overwhelming.
"Under Barenboim's firm direction, the chorus and large orchestra acquitted themselves splendidly. Denoke, wielding a voice of pure liquid gold, scaled the treacherous vocal compass with disarming ease and penetrating intelligence. She was deeply moving in everything she sang — including Beethoven's concert aria, "Ah! perfido," at the start of the concert.
"That the horrific events alluded to by the new Rands piece could have taken place in the same nation that gave the world so many great musical and scientific accomplishments did not escape anyone's attention. Barenboim drove the irony home wtih a gracious and flowing performance of Beethoven's Symphony No. 6, the "Pastoral."
"Flexible, lightly weighted, transparent in texture, this "Pastoral" Symphony was no mundane stroll in the countryside but a model of how to build a cogent symphonic argument in spontaneous degrees of tension and relaxation. Our orchestra outdid itself in the fine detail and depth of its response."
Chicago Sun-Times
Triumphant spirit guides CSO's debut of 'apokryphos'
"The Chicago Symphony Orchestra commissioned "apokryphos," a work for soprano, chorus and orchestra by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Bernard Rands, in honor of Margaret Hillis, the Chicago Symphony Chorus founder who died in 1998. The 35-minute piece, which had its word premiere conducted by Daniel Barenboim [May 8, 2003] at Symphony Center, is a haunting work. It is a fitting tribute to Hillis, who, during her long tenure from 1957 to 1994, built the Chicago Symphony Chorus into one of the world's great vocal ensembles.
For all its large forces — 180-voice chorus, full orchestra with extra percussion — "apokryphos" was a surprisingly tender, intimate work. Inspired by the idea of exile, it uses English-language excerpts from the quasi-biblical Apocrypha and German poems by exiled Jewish writers Heinrich Heine, Nelly Sachs, Else Lasker-Schuler, Franz Werfel and Paul Celan. In the 14-section work, Rands has maintained a delicate balance among soprano, chorus and orchestra.
"Neither top-heavy with grandly scaled choruses nor dominated by extended, virtuosic soprano solos, "apokryphos" eschewed theatrical bombast. Its horrific images, ardent prayers and tiny consolations arrived and disappeared with all the organic flow of familiar but ruthlessly unstoppable daily life.
"Punctuated by the austere, darting lines of Mary Sauer's piano, the orchestra wove the vocal sections together with often sizable, intricately textured interludes.
"Chicago audiences remember German soprano Angela Denoke from her recent, stirring Wagner performances with the CSO and Barenboim, as Sieglinde in Act I of "Die Walküre" in 2001 and Venus and Elisabeth in excerpts from "Tannhäuser" earlier this season. She was also a capricious adversary to baritone Thomas Quastoff in a superb recital of Hugo Wolf songs with Barenoim at the piano in Symphony Center last fall.
"Denoke's considerable ability to create indelible characters with her radiant, powerful soprano was on full display [May 8th]. Rands' vocal lines had great lyrical flow but were unpredictable, jagged with wide leaps amid the "brittle rock of bone" in Lasker-Schuler's anguished "My People," more gently contoured as Denoke's awestruck wanderer answered questions by an ever-expanding male chorus in Werfel's "Elevation."
Sachs' shattering poem of an insane mother burying her dead child, "Already embraced by the arm of heavenly solace," was a stunning blend of vocal line and orchestral accompaniment. Starting with a snatch of simple humming, Denoke was the image of a woman frantic to delay speaking about the unspeakable. The orchestra's periodic interruptions — short, brutal, metallic slashes — seemed to fall on her distracted but intensely focused song like a stiletto's blade.
Prepared by director Duain Wolfe, the chorus was just as vividly present. The mood was triumphant, even boastful as the men of the chorus praised the Lord in the opening excerpt from the Apocrypha. But elsewheree, urging patience in the face of humiliation, an a cappella group of 24 mixed voices veered from the biting harshness of God's inscrutable ways to a celestial but cosmically lonely evocation of hope. When the opening text returned near the conclusion of "apokryphos," it collapsed into cacophony, the tumultuous shouts of demented partisans demanding praise for their mighty Lord.
"apokryphos" ended with an image of hope, but a tentative one, hanging by the slender thread of Denoke's final, questioning note and undermined by restless, dark strings. This is a masterful work, one whose images and sounds linger in the mind.
"The concert opened with Beethoven's concert aria "Ah! Perfido," with Denoke alternating seamlessly between proud outrage and melting despair. After the striking, haunted landscape of "apokryphos," Beethoven's Symphony No. 6 ("Pastoral") arrived like a soothing balm. The performance was elegant and spacious, full of playfully spontaneous moments. Rarely have Beethoven's birds warbled so cheerfully or his storm blown through in such a tightly coiled whirlwind."
John von Rhein
Wynne Delacoma