This fantastic set is a true revelation. Before sitting down
to listen to these discs I had only ever read about Bernstein’s
Mass and
the comments were universally disparaging. Alsop’s eye-opening
performance shows it to be what it is: a genuinely daring attempt
to fuse a huge mix of musical genres into a theatre piece which
explores faith and doubt, loss and gain, and pulling it off remarkably
successfully.
Mass was written in response to a commission from Jackie
Kennedy Onassis for a work to open the new John F. Kennedy Centre
for Performing Arts in Washington D.C. Bernstein wrote of the
commission, “I’ve always wanted to compose a service
of one sort or another, and I toyed with ecumenical services
that would combine elements from various religions ... The Mass
is also an extremely dramatic event in itself - it even suggests
a theatre work.”
Mass is indeed a theatre work.
The Latin text serves as a framework around which to orientate
the lives of various characters and groups. At the centre is
the celebrant himself who begins by articulating his “simple
song” to God but goes through a crisis of faith, smashing
the holy vessels towards the end, before he is rehabilitated
by the simplicity of belief in the final moments. Elsewhere the
congregation, known as the Street People, spend most of the work
questioning whether there is any merit to the mass at all: during
the
Credo a Rock band answers with the words “
I
believe in God / but does God believe in me? I’ll believe
in any god / if any god there be” and elsewhere “
and
then a plaster god like you has the gall to tell me what to do.”
Bernstein was right: it’s a tremendously dramatic journey,
thanks in part to the additional lyrics provided by
Wunderkind Stephen
Schwartz, fresh from his triumph in
Godspell. Bernstein
provides music that positively thumps with energy, encompassing
classical, jazz, rock and blues, as well as some traditional
Jewish elements. With all of this you would think that
Mass should
be a rag-tag mix of genres without much to keep it together,
but in a performance like this you are instantly impressed with
the undeniable unity of the piece.
The playing is fantastic from everyone. The Baltimore Symphony
Orchestra conjure up the cacophonous racket of the
Kyrie as
if it was Stockhausen but demonstrate great beauty in the first
Meditation and
the touching simplicity of the final
Pax section. The
marching band, rock group and jazz ensemble are all given absolutely
equal weighting - no sense of hierarchy in this most catholic
of Catholic masses - and they all play tremendously. The zany
marching music that accompanies the first entrance of the Street
People is chaotic and lawless, the antithesis of all that the
military march stands for, and guitarists for the jazz and rock
elements burst onto the senses with sometimes disconcerting suddenness,
jolting the listener up in his seat and forcing him to pay more
attention.
The singing is fantastic too. Jubilant Sykes’ Celebrant
has a fantastically appropriate voice for this music, dark and
rich but sexy too, with more than a hint of danger. He just sounds
so
right for this role: I can’t imagine anyone better
placed to play the role of the preacher turned heretic and his
is one of the finest musical portrayals I’ve come across
this year. The sense of gathering uncertainty is palpable throughout
the performance, from the beautiful simplicity of the opening,
though to the experimental confidence of the
Sanctus - “
Mi
alone is only me, but me with sol, me with soul, means a song
is beginning.” He is gut-wrenching at the depth of
his doubt but wonderfully positive in his final rehabilitation,
making me feel like I had gone on the journey with him. His Street
People, the Morgan State University Choir, are far from being
backing singers. They have an energy and thrill to them that
you naturally associate with the Jets and Sharks in
West Side
Story (the “Sermon” section reminded me a lot
of
Gee, Officer Krupke) and each solo contribution is
distinctly characterised so as to create a feeling of community
falling apart but ultimately growing together again.
The recording engineers have done a fantastic job in capturing
the many different acoustics needed for this work: no less than
ten times a pre-recorded taped performance is needed, and the
ear is jolted into an entirely different space for those in comparison
to the “live” performance. They also use the full
stereo arc to maximum effect so as to distinguish between the
different characters and performers.
Highest praise of all must go to Alsop, however. Having once been
Bernstein’s pupil she has now become the most convincing
advocate on disc for this previously problematic work. She holds
together every strand of this endlessly diverse score, welding
it into a convincing musical and dramatic whole. This is perhaps
her greatest recording to date, and I don’t doubt that she
would say it’s the one closest to her heart. Alsop's achievement
comes into particular focus when compared to two recent competitors:
Nagano and Järvi. On Harmonia Mundi Nagano's performance
is hamstrung by a limpid, disengaged celebrant in Jerry Hadley,
and while Randall Scarlata does a better job for Järvi on
Chandos, he still sounds as though he is giving a formal lieder
performance and doesn't engage with the sheer anarchy of Bernstein's
vision. The playing is altogether better and more energetic for
Järvi, but still Alsop leaves these other interpreters in
the shade.
Added to all this is an excellent booklet essay by Robert Hilferty
and full sung texts. At Naxos super-budget price you can afford
to check this out without much risk. It may be the cheapest
Mass on
the market but it’s also by far the best. Do not hesitate.
Simon Thompson
Celebrant - Jubilant Sykes (baritone) 
