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photo by Frank van Rossum
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composer Louis Andriessen
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"La Commedia" (2004-08), the opera after Dante Alighieri's "La Divina Commedia" ("The Divine Comedy," circa 1320), by Dutch composer Louis Andriessen, currently Carnegie Hall's Richard and Barbara Debs Composer-in-residence, had its New York premiere, in concert at Carnegie, on April 15.
For three-fifths of this 100-minute avant garde work, for four soloists, chorus, children's chorus, and orchestra, in Latin, Dutch, Italian and English, Andriessen's version of Dante's "Inferno" snarled, snorted and rumbled, fiercely and fearsomely and, in one irreverent section for the male chorus, reminded of Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana." Andriessen's dense orchestration, realized by the Asko|Schoenberg ensemble, led by Reinbert de Leeuw, often kept us disconcerted, despite the librettos in our hands and the amplification of the chorister, the men and women of the Synergy Vocals octet, but perhaps the words, by Dante and Renaissance Dutch poet Joost van den Vondel, and from the Bible, were meant to be beside the point. Vocalist Cristina Zavalloni, portraying Dante, sang, sometimes in singsong, in either a vibratoless legit mezzo-soprano or in earthy pop chest voice, as (s)he met devils and demons. Actor Jeroen Willems, as Lucifer, ranted about corrupting and conquering Adam, Eve, and their offspring, all the rest of humanity, all of us, and celebrated his triumph. As Andriessen put us through Hell, the philistines fled in droves. We stayed, determined to keep open minds.
Lightening up in Part IV, "De Tuin der Lustern" (the Garden of Earthly Delights), Andriessen's music swaggered like Leonard Bernstein's "West Side Story" Jets and Sharks, and then he quoted from Claude Debussy's "Claire de Lune." From a front first tier box, tenor Marcel Beekman, as the composer and lutenist Casella, dulcetly sang "Amor che ne la mente mi ragiona" (Love that converses with me in my mind), akin to a lyrical gondolier's serenade, with words from Dante's "Convivio." In another jazzy, Bernstein-esque section, Zavalloni limned the fateful serpent in the garden, the music slithering, the singer's voice deep, as she intoned words from Dante's "Purgatorio." She and Synergy joined forces for Andriessen's sweet and sensuous setting, in Italian, of passages from Solomon's "Song of Songs" ("Vieni, vieni, o sposa, vien con me dal Libano!"-Come with me from Lebanon, my bride!)
In Part V, Asko|Schoenberg's Ernestine Stoop and Daniel Skála, playing the highest notes on harp and cimbalom, led us into "Luce eterna" (Eternal light), before the full orchestra commented dourly and the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, under Dianne Berkun, chanted a lyrical "Requiem." Soprano Claron McFadden, her high soprano as pure as when she sang here with Les Arts Florissants, in the 1990s, brought us ethereal messages from Dante's beloved Béatrice at the beginning and end of the evening. After a brittle, icy, electronic transition, Zavalloni sang, in English, in a subdued singsong, of "the holy millstone" and its endless circular motion, and the "song that surpassed all our Muses/and sirens," and Willems, now as Dante's crusty great-great-grandfather, Cacciaguida, held forth colloquially and earthily, about the fate of this and that Florentine, as if gossiping about neighbors he despised, some of whom made him retch. Texts for McFadden, Zavalloni and Willems' contributions here were drawn from Dante's "Paradiso." After a salute to the "Luce eterna," by McFadden and the women of Synergy, the Brooklyn Youth offered Dante and Andriessen's bouncy summation, in English-"These are all my notes for you,/and if you do not get it,/you won't get the Last Judgment/you will never get it, ever"-and it was as if Andriessen was cheerfully daring us, to strains that could almost have come from a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta, not to "get" his quirky magnum opus.
The celebration of Andriessen's residency continues through May 10, with concerts of his music and music that influenced him. For more details, visit www.carnegiehall.org, call 212/247-7800, or come to the Carnegie Hall box office on 57th Street at Seventh Avenue.