"La Pasión" Brings Carnival to Carnegie Hall
by Aristea Mellos
In the last year or two, there’s been a flurry of negative press surrounding the composer Osvaldo Golijov. Repeated talk of missed deadlines and accusations of plagiarism left me wondering about Carnegie Hall’s decision to appoint him to the Richard and Barbara Debs Composer’s Chair for the 2012-13 season. In an age of endless news cycles and limitless tweets, it can be easy to forget about what really matters—in this case the music and its sheer power to communicate, uplift, and transform. Sunday’s performance of Golijov’s La Pasión según San Marcos did just that.
La Pasión is the result of a 2000 commission by conductor Helmuth Rilling and the International Bachakademie Stuttgart, in which Golijov was chosen as one of four composers to write a new Passion for the new millennium. Performed without intermission, the 90-minute work kept the Carnegie Hall audience captivated with cinematic string writing, grooving rhythms, animated vocals, and versatile soloists.
The fleet of percussionists that drive La Pasión opened the piece with a steady ostinato, transporting the audience into a heady world of rhythmic cycles and irresistible groves. The addition of canonical trumpets hinted at the fiesta-like atmosphere that would dominate much of the work, while a capoeira dancer slowly turned behind a fishing net, imbuing the opening with a rich sense of symbolism.
The sounds of muted strings, playful brass, and the exotic array of percussion (including cabasas, shakers, and a Venezuelan instrument called a quitipla) formed the backbone of the Orquesta La Pasión. Led by energetic conductor Robert Spano, the instrumentalists created a taut canvas upon which blocks of choral color were added and the drama of Christ’s crucifixion was played out.
Throughout the afternoon, samba beats with impassioned choruses flowed into flamenco-style arias, and large textures seemed to fill every inch of the hall, saturating the space with the sound of a Brazilian carnival.
The three adult soloists gave polished and convincing performances. Unlike the Bach passions, where each soloist is assigned a role, here the soloists morphed from one character to another like shapeshifters: dancer and singer Reynaldo González-Fernández conducted a particularly skillful display of this character flipping by assuming the roles of both Peter and Jesus in the movement “Face to Face;” Magnetic Brazilian jazz-singer Luciana Souza's sultry vocal work complimented the festive character of the Latin-infused music; in contrast, soprano Jessica Rivera's lyrical and delicate tone brought moments of sheer luminescence to the performance, allowing the work to breathe, particularly in the “Colorless Moon” movement.
However, Sunday's true stars were the children from New York City’s high schools who formed a Greek chorus of animated fervor. Drawn from Forest Hills High School, the Frank Sinatra School of the Arts, and the Songs of Solomon Choir, these energetic choristers blended with the Schola Cantorum de Venezuela, bringing their youthful exuberance to the music. Dancing, clapping, and singing with intense passion, their impressive professionalism was a testament to the work of their chorus masters (Heidi Best, Robert Koch, and Chantel Wright, respectively).
As the final notes of La Pasión sounded, it was difficult not to be overwhelmed by the grand scale of this spectacle. Upon its premiere in 2000, music historian Richard Taruskin declared La Pasión an example of “new spirituality,” and Sunday's performance instilled in me a new sense of faith in contemporary composition and its ability to transform and enrich our lives.