Ah! The Cabrillo Festival finale: “To hear infinity in the Mission San Juan Bautista and eternity in 97 minutes” — such was the hope implied by its “in aeternam” moniker. William Blake reminded us that “the raging of the stormy sea and the destructive sword are portions of eternity too great for the [inner] eye of man,” but that didn’t stop three of four featured composers from taking a direct shot at the concept. Even the fourth, Philip Glass, surely brought eternity to the minds to some listeners with his 34-minute cello concerto.
The concert began with Elena Kats-Chernin’s Heaven Is Closed (2000), which came about, as she explained in the program notes, “as a kind of ‘resisting’ response to one of my sons being taken ill with an illness that was unlikely to be cured.” A while into the music, gorgeous ascending chords suggest a visit above the clouds, but then the lines become multidirectional, offering varieties of mood: trumpet calls; sambalike dance rhythms; a mysterious, prethunderstorm period of stasis, and periods of ostinato described by the composer as “knocks on the door” that go answered. Altogether, it proved to be an engaging, 12-minute overture, deftly delivered by Music Director Marin Alsop and the Festival Orchestra.
Next came Glass’ 2001 piece, resolutely conveyed by cellist Wendy Sutter. However one responds to this composer’s music, it must be admitted he has an instantly recognizable style, an achievement that has yet to be reached by the others on the program. Glass worships at the altars of the Triad, the Arpeggio, and — especially in the first movement — the Exercise, the labors of which separate young musicians from quitters. This last characteristic of his music reflects his docency for the Temple of the Accompaniment, which makes him one of the best movie scorers in the business.
Fortunately, the middle movement featured numerous visits from a fine melody that broke the preceding monotony. The finale brought a modicum of rhythmic variety, choo-chooing along for seven minutes to a sudden end, all warmly received by the audience.
Engaging Sonic Flurry
Foils for Orchestra (Homage à Saint George), by George Walker, brandished clashing sonorities for nine minutes after intermission. The music was appropriately aggressive for a sword fight, and thoroughly engaging. Unfortunately, due to ill health, Walker was the lone composer on the program unable to attend. The work’s noisiness made me wonder again why more contemplative, string-dominant works aren’t performed at the historic Mission. The acoustics are simply cavelike. The orchestra’s string section can sound understaffed — so what better place to augment the sound of that section? Alsop generally prefers the flashy to the contemplative when it comes to festival selections. The Mission is the place for more of the latter, and less of the former; otherwise, the festival should stay in Santa Cruz.
To conclude the concert, Pierre Jalbert’s In aeternum held sway in the sanctuary. The composer explains in the notes, “This work was written as a memorial to my niece who died at birth. In it, my aim was to capture a range of emotions, from sorrow and grief to shock and despair.” And quite a range there is. In spirit, the music sounds much like the third movement of Paul Hindemith’s Mathis der Maler, the “Temptation of St. Anthony,” though it does not conclude with a Bach chorale. Rather, its stormy central section is dominated by a sputtery call to battle, highly reminiscent of a phrase in the scherzo of Prokofiev’s Fifth Symphony, and it concludes with a return to a doleful motive introduced at the outset of the work by a piccolo.
In aeternum is a remarkable piece in that it won the Masterprize in 2001, an award voted by listeners and audiences from submissions weaned to six by a jury. Rarely are audiences ever approached directly for input in such matters. Why? Only time will tell whether future audiences would do the same, but after nine years, the response is still going strong, judging by its enthusiastic reception. Whether it’s music for eternity, of course, remains to be seen.