Choral groups have few blue-chip certainties in the 20th-century
repertoire, but Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana” is definitely one of them. With music that has been
pilfered for movies, commercials, video games, rock albums, and sitcom
episodes, Orff’s “scenic cantata” always draws a crowd — and the Rochester
Philharmonic Orchestra and the Oratorio Society surely counted on that for its
season finale. The full orchestra, choristers of all ages, and three soloists
crammed the Kodak Hall stage and poured out to the boxes to present this
ever-popular salute to wine, women, and (lest we forget) Fortune.
It is based on 12th- and 13th-century poems, in Latin and medieval
German, by wandering scholars and defrocked priests. Their preoccupations were
the eternal verities: drinking, enjoying nice weather, eating roast swan (see
below) and, to quote one of the songs, “felix coniunctio”, which means just what you think it means. (The
RPO program includes a booklet translating all the bawdy words).
I believe Orff made up all his own tunes, and he produced
some simple but stubborn earworms. Comparing higher-minded 20th-century choral
works like Stravinsky’s “Symphony of Psalms” or Britten’s “War Requiem” to “Carmina Burana” is like comparing
filet mignon to a double cheeseburger — bearing in mind that a well-prepared
cheeseburger may not be good for you, but it’s very tasty. Many fancy soloists
and conductors like getting medieval with Carl Orff, and audiences love it when
they do. (Take that, Stravinsky!)
Leading a huge work like “Carmina Burana” must be like steering an 18-wheeler. This isn’t
really a work that needs much “interpreting,” but a performance does need to be
tight and exciting, and the chorus, soloists, and orchestra certainly delivered
on Thursday night under the direction of guest conductor Gregory Vajda.
The Oratorio Society is a sizeable group, well-prepared
(their Latin patter was excellent) and mostly well-balanced.At times I could occasionally barely hear the
chorus over the orchestra, but I think this was because of my seat location
close to the front. I assume that the blend is better further back, or in the
balcony. To be sure, this was not a concern in the famous wall-of-sound chorus,
“O Fortuna,” which bookends the piece and definitely registered. The Bach
Children’s Chorus, singing from memory, added a pleasingly pure touch to their
numbers. (Do their parents know they’re singing words like, “I am burning all
over with first love”?)
Sitting so close to the stage, however, enabled me to enjoy
the soloists fully. Orff gave his soprano, tenor, and baritone some very
challenging music to sing. Soprano Leslie Ann Bradley made “In Trutina” a silvery moment of repose among all the bawdry,
and Anton Belov interpreted the baritone role (who
spends much of his time trying to convince the soprano to give herself to him)
very effectively as a mini-Don Giovanni. The tenor
gets only one aria in “Carmina Burana,”
but it’s a killer: a swan’s lament as he roasts on a spit, with a multitude of
extremely high, loud notes. Anthony Webb, in a literal walk-on role, handled
this smashingly, hitting every note spot-on and interpreting with a welcome, macabre
sense of humor.
“Carmina Burana”
wasn’t the only item that rocked the house in this concert. It opened with two
very appealing works in a Latin vein. The RPO premiere of Roberto Sierra’s
“Fandangos” introduced a colorful and artfully repetitive work that has become
very popular since its premiere in 2001. I can see why: it is an ideal
modern-but-not-too-modern concert opener, energetic and splendiferously scored in
the slowly-drive-you-out-of-your-mind style of Ravel’s “Boléro,”
and the orchestra played it splendidly.
Alberto Ginastera’s “Estancia”
ballet suite is a bit more familiar, something like Aaron Copland’s “Rodeo” set
in Argentina, with gauchos instead of cowboys. It’s excitingly rhythmic and
lyrical by turns, but mostly exciting: the concluding “Malambo”
is as noisy and exhilarating an orchestral rave-up as anyone ever wrote. Gregory
Vajda and the RPO gave Ginastera’s
piece an aerobic workout of a performance that would make Copland’s cowboys,
and even Orff’s lusty students, look downright prim.
This article appears in Jun 3-9, 2015.
