The Orpheus ‘Legend’ Lives On

by Barry O’Neal ©2005

Music by Barber, Adams, Rouse and Mozart. Orpheus. Barbara Bonney, Soprano. Isaac Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall. April 9, 2005

Orpheus has developed so nicely over the past thirty or so years, one tends to take for granted the novel concept on which the chamber orchestra was founded. When the celebrated conductorless ensemble debuted in 1972, the idea of a self-governing organization without a charismatic leader was at once “of its time” (the time of communes and the attempted submergence of the “cult of personality” in the promotion of the common good) and a near affront to the age of the domineering maestro.

As it showed at its April 9th concert at Carnegie Hall, the occasional rigidity that characterized the early years has given way to a truly collegial give and take, and if anything, the playing is more spectacular than ever.

The program began with an ingratiating performance of Mozart’s Symphony No. 29 in A Major, KV 201 and continued with Barbara Bonney as soloist in Haydn’s wonderful concert aria from 1795, Scena di Berenice. Ms. Bonney, long admired in soubrette parts at the Metropolitan Opera and elsewhere, is often at her best in concert and recital situations. She seemed a little out of sorts and over-parted in the Haydn and there were some squally moments in the second cabaletta-styled aria (“Perché, se tanti siete...”). Once again, the orchestral playing was remarkable and carefully tailored to the mercurial moods the singer is called upon to convey.

However, the prime purpose for attending this particular concert, was to hear the music performed on the second half: Samuel Barber’s glorious Knoxville: Summer of 1915, Op. 24 and John Adams’ spiky Chamber Symphony (1994), revamped slightly for Orpheus with multiple strings instead of solo players (as it is in the original printed score). Orpheus usually shines in music of our own time and this evening was no exception. In the Barber, Ms. Bonney was more in her element, though her diction could have been clearer in projecting James Agee’s touching words. Still, the voice is lovely and nearly perfect for this music. Ms. Bonney didn’t overdo the child-like effects some singers have employed in this iconic example of American vocal music at its best, and the players positively glowed in the vivid, poetic and descriptive music with which Mr. Barber has surrounded the conversational setting of Agee’s intense, but homey prose poem. The rondo-like recurrences of the opening music, each return more poignant and intense, were lovingly conveyed, and the deeply moving middle section (“On the rough wet grass of the back yard”) rose naturally to the climactic line “May God bless my people...” Ms. Bonney was searing and the band was with her all the way. On the whole, this was a satisfying and involving performance.

Orpheus saved their best work for the final work on the program. John Adams’ Chamber Symphony has always challenged this listener. The mixture of styles, cartoon music, 1920s modernism cum Milhaud-esque jazz and traces of the minimalism from which Adam’s musical approach sprang, was initially off-putting. But heard now in the context of his development (and in this astonishing performance) it seems a remarkably successful experiment in moto perpetuo. Each movement sets a machine-like tempo and once in gear, the fundamental tempo proceeds with relentless energy. The supposed influence of Arnold Schoenberg’s Chamber Symphony No. 1 seems less to the point than Adams’ gift for parodying various jazz and neo-classical styles. The brashness of the rhythmic ingenuity and the vigor of the chromatic counterpoint in the first movement (“Mongrel Airs”) was exhilarating in this performance. “Aria with Walking Bass” starts with deceptive simplicity, the titular bass in counterpoint with a bluesy solo trombone melody, but gradually joined by other brass and wind player in an almost cool-jazz style. The intensity mounts, but the basic pulse never changes. Roadrunner, the last movement, revisits the hard-charging approach of the opening movement, but slows down for a wonderfully loopy but brief violin cadenza before racing to its bracing, cartoon music conclusion. The percussion writing throughout this movement reminded this listener of Darius Milhaud’s Creation du Monde and the “devilish” Stravinsky of L’Histoire du Soldat.

It would be great fun to put these three delights together on the same program. Orpheus was dazzling and one hopes they will record this version of the Chamber Symphony someday. The orchestra responds to this kind of virtuosity in instrumental writing with their own brand of expertise. This was a concert that accumulated delights as it went along of his development (and in this astonishing performance), it seems a remarkably successful experiment in moto perpetuo. Each movement is like a machine. Once turned on, the clock keeps ticking and the basic tempo proceeds with relentless energy. The supposed influence of Arnold Schoenberg’s Chamber Symphony No. 1 seems less to the point than Adams’ gift for parodying various jazz and neo-classical styles and combining them into a wild and breathless contrapuntal stew. The sheer brashness of the rhythmic ingenuity and relentlessness of the chromatic counterpoint in the first movement, Mongrel Airs was breathtaking in this spectacular performance.