SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Kernis, Beethoven, and Holst :   Gerard Schwarz, conductor, Hyunah Yu, soprano, Paul Karaitis, tenor, Robert Gardner, baritone, Seattle Symphony Chorale, Seattle Symphony, Benaroya Hall, Seattle, 25 & 27.6.2009 (BJ)

Kernis, Symphony No. 3, Symphony of Meditations (25.6, world premiere)

Beethoven, Symphony No. 1 (27.6)

Holst, The Planets


Like Topsy, the latest work commissioned from Aaron Jay Kernis by the Seattle Symphony, just growed. Conceived originally as a relatively short piece for modest vocal and orchestral forces, it morphed over the last two or three years into an expansive symphony calling on the services of three vocal soloists, a big chorus, and equally large orchestral forces.

Kernis observes “I’m not even religious! But I do think and compose about metaphysical and spiritual matters a great deal.” He was moved to write his Symphony of Meditations, he said, “when memories of my parents taking me on childhood visits to synagogue recently flooded back to my active memory.” His text, addressing “the ungraspable mystery of God, . . . the beauties of Creation,” and “man’s fear of Death,” is taken from the writings of the 11th-century Spanish poet Solomon Ibn Gabirol. Except one or two lines in the original Hebrew, Kernis has set the words in a fluent English translation by Peter Cole, and the work, composed “in loving memory of my parents,” is dedicated “to Gerard and Jody Schwarz in friendship and admiration.”

It is hard to pin a clear stylistic characterization on the music Kernis, now 49, writes these days–and that is not a negative point, because art that’s easily pigeonholed tends to be fairly superficial art. There are pervasive tonal elements in his work, but after wandering for a while in somewhat bland New-Age-ish realms, he seems to have reasserted the mental toughness that distinguished his early compositions, so that his recent works offer a stimulating and powerfully eloquent blend of seductiveness with touches of salutary astringency.

The new symphony is indeed often highly alluring in sonority and impressive lucid in texture. I think the last of the three movements, Supplication, which plays for more than half of the work’s roughly 68-minute duration, lacks formal clarity, at least in any symphonic sense, though the various contrasted sections do follow each other naturally enough. The text here, moreover, indulges in moral self-flagellation of an almost Lutheran nature that hardly fits the prevailing humanistic Jewishness of the conception. I also found the superbly varied and resonant choral writing more successful than that for solo voices. It was disturbing enough–at least for a purist like me–that amplification had to be used for the three soloists; even with it, I found the soprano in particular quite inaudible much of the time. Robert Gardner did his manful best with the very extensive baritone part, and the tenor, Paul Karaitis, coped well enough with his much smaller task, but the effect would surely have benefitted from the participation of genuinely Wagnerian voices; I doubt if, say, Jane Eaglen and Greer Grimsley would have needed electronic assistance.

The finest music is to be found in the 16-minute course of the second movement, Meditation on Oneness, where Kernis has fashioned some intricately interwoven whirlings of line and color that are truly ravishing. And indeed, despite the reservations I have expressed, in this chorally and orchestrally superb premiere the whole symphony was convincing and moving enough to win both composer and performers an ovation of remarkable warmth and enthusiasm.

In the Thursday concert, Holst’s The Planets presented the orchestra with a tough assignment after such a technically and emotionally draining premiere. There were, in consequence, a few minor glitches, almost all of them disappearing on Saturday when the piece was paired with a fleetly played Beethoven First. The only thing that didn’t really work was the placing of the women’s choir, for Neptune, in the top gallery: their impact, coming thus from on high, was riveting at first, but the final fade-out was altogether too abrupt, the music just stopping while still clearly audible. I understand that for a performance a few years ago Schwarz put his choir in the lobby at the back of the auditorium, an arrangement that may have allowed a gradual closing of the doors to create the effect of music vanishing into thin air.

This aside, I found both performances of the Holst thrilling. The great old warhorse was authoritatively put through its paces by Schwarz and realized with formidable power and focus by his players. String tone was wonderfully luminous throughout both evenings, highlighted by some finely turned solos from concertmaster Maria Larionoff and assistant principal cellist Theresa Benshoof. The woodwind, brass, and percussion sections brought massive assurance to bear on their parts, with poetic soft horn solos from John Cerminaro in the Holst, and some fine work from principal oboist Ben Hausmann. Even without a real fade-out, this was a splendid conclusion to a season of high artistic achievement.

Bernard Jacobson