Bernstein: Mass

Jubilant Sykes (Artist), Asher Edward Wulfman (Artist), Morgan State University Choir (Artist), Peabody Children's Chorus (Artist), Baltimore Symphony Orchestra (Artist, Orchestra), Marin Alsop (Artist, Conductor), Leonard Bernstein (Composer), Stephen Schwartz (Composer) | Format: Audio CD

Product Details

• Orchestra: Baltimore Symphony Orchestra
• Conductor: Marin Alsop
• Composer: Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Schwartz
• Audio CD (August 25, 2009)
• Number of Discs: 2
• Label: NAXOS AMERICAN
• ASIN: B002ED6VCW
• In-Print Editions: MP3 Download
• Average Customer Review: 4.2 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (24 customer reviews)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #12,531 in Music (See Top 100 in Music)
  • #24 in Music > Classical > Opera & Vocal > Vocal Non-Opera > Masses

Editorial Reviews

Review

10/10 - Artistic Quality & Sound Quality: Leonard Bernstein's own version bettered? Yes, indeed! This is, handily, the best sung, best played, most intelligently interpreted recording of Mass currently available. Of course, Bernstein's rendition always will have sterling qualities, including some wonderful solo singers with really characterful 'pop' and Broadway voices, but for its sheer musical integrity combined with the advantage of the composer's final revisions to the score, this version is unbeatable. Jubilant Sykes, as the Celebrant, easily outclasses Alan Titus' very fine premiere recording of the role. His voice has more edge; he's more at ease with the various pop idioms; he sounds radiant at the work's opening and grows increasingly desperate as it proceeds. This only serves to make his climactic breakdown tragically believable.

The various street singers are, one and all, terrific. 'God Said' becomes the work's comic climax, which is as it should be. 'I believe in God', 'Confession', 'World Without End', and 'Thank You' are both idiomatic and beautifully sung. The children's choir sounds luminous in the Sanctus, while the adult chorus, from Morgan State University, sings with gusto as well as immaculate diction, with every word clearly comprehensible. Marin Alsop knits the whole ensemble together with infallible insight and verve. Her tempos, a bit different from Bernstein's, quicker here ('God Said'), a touch slower there (the wild dance in the Offertory), are no less right.

It's all fabulously recorded with a glittering impact that never turns unduly aggressive. The multi-textural layering in the climactic Dona Nobis Pacem comes across as both musically and physically overwhelming. Mass has its detractors, but when performed with this kind of conviction the piece can be inexpressibly moving. Alsop never has made a finer recording--it's both a tribute to her mentor Leonard Bernstein, as well as to her exceptional talent as an exponent of his music. --ClassicsToday.com, David Hurwitz, August 2009

It was the summer of 1972. I had left Berklee College of Music that spring for good, because I arrogantly thought that "they couldn't teach me anything." I had come back to New Jersey, was studying classical piano, composition, concert percussion and jazz drumming with various personages privately because I realized I still had much to learn after all.

I had befriended while in Boston some fellow Berklee-ites who listened equally to modern classical, rock and jazz and did not distinguish between them as far as what form was superior to what other form. I felt I wasn't alone.

Rock was still in a phase where seriously dedicated musicians were making it an art form at the level of the other two musics. That is probably also the case again today. I joined what now would be called a jamband and we tried to incorporate all three musics into what we did, with greater and lesser success, depending. I had a cute girlfriend who was young and made no distinction between Joe Namath and John Lennon; both were equal to her.

I bought an eight-track player for my 1965 Ford Fairlane station wagon and I used to drive through the streets of New Jersey blasting the music that I liked. It was said at the time that I had a resemblance to Jesus Christ (as painted by the Dutch Renaissance artists) and sometimes I would catch people crossing themselves in jest as I drove past. I sure didn't feel Christ-like. I just had long hair and a beard.

I was neither religious nor a-religious, but one of the eight-tracks that got a lot of listening on my player that summer was Bernstein's Mass. I thought it was great. It combined modern classical, Broadway, rock and jazz elements and I and my musical friends thought that was a very good thing to do. (I don't feel any differently now, either.)

What is my point in all of this? Bernstein wrote his Mass in a time when America was in tremendous upheaval. Categories, musical or otherwise, were conflating, collapsing, appearing and regrouping as fast as farmland was disappearing from my home state. The music scene was wide open to combinations of genres and Bernstein was only one of the people who were making radical recombinations of this sort, though he was in the handful of those who truly made of the mix a musical success.

Politically and religiously, the world was in turmoil too, of course. Bernstein's Mass reflects all of this. The Mass shocked some people then because it dared to address loss of faith and the tumult of the times--the confrontation of Church and the political present--along with the "timeless" post-Gregorian musical-ritual formation of the mass itself. Perhaps it still can shock in this way.

The original version as recorded by Bernstein shortly after the work's premier was the one I had on eight-track. There were no others. The performance had an exciting, almost feverish quality about it.

Now we have another version, newly recorded by the Baltimore Symphony, Martin Alsop conducting (Naxos, 2-CDs). Jubilant Sykes is the baritone principal and the Morgan State University Choir and Peabody Children's Chorus handle the large-group vocal parts.

Hearing this new version brings back all those times in 1972 when I listened to the original recording endlessly. But it also gives the work new life. Alsop's interpretation is a bit Apollonian to Bernstein's Dionysus. There is a kind of meticulous care in the choral and orchestral balance and more transparency than out and out passion. The rock passages sound less like something from the Fillmore or the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour and a little more timeless.

That's fine. That is not such a bad thing.

This is a work that obviously has outlasted the times it came out of. That an interpretation today has more of a reflective bent than the one that came out of that world of chaos that was 1971 (the year of its first performance) is to be expected, even desired. This version in a way forces you to listen to the music on its own terms today and forget the revery of nostalgia that the original can produce. What it tells you by its production in a changed world is that Bernstein's Mass was not a kind of freak product of those times, but an American masterpiece that lives on with undiminished power.

In short, this is a fine rendition of the mass that I would not hesitate to recommend. Personally, I am glad to have both.

It's always a pleasure to find a new CD that I can wholeheartedly endorse, and here we have one that is indispensable: Marin Alsop's recording of Leonard Bernstein's Mass. Bernstein's so-called "Theatre Piece for Singers, Players and Dancers" purposely crossed genres, as a result of which it has always resided somewhere outside the musical theatre classification. And as a result of which, many fans of musical theatre -- and fans of Bernstein as well -- have more or less overlooked it. Imagine, another score to keep on the shelf alongside West Side Story and Candide -- and many Bernstein fans don't know it? That has been the fate of Mass, alas; Bernstein's excellent 1971 recording of the score has always been around, more or less, but usually grouped with his symphonic work and relatively undiscovered by Broadwayites. Here we have a sparkling new two-disc recording, available from the relatively low-priced Naxos label. No excuses, please; if you consider yourself a fan of Bernstein and don't know Mass, now is the time to discover it. And if you know and enjoy your Mass, you'll no doubt be thrilled by this new recording.

Mass, of course, is the piece that was commissioned by Jacqueline Onassis in 1966 for the opening of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, DC. The grand premiere at the Opera House on Sept. 8, 1971, just across the street from the Watergate, arrived under storm clouds; Bernstein's pop-rock, anti-war version of a Catholic mass contained elements seemingly designed to offend anyone over 30 who wasn't exceedingly liberal. Certainly, the President who inherited it -- Mr. Nixon -- must have seen it as an enormous stick poked in his eye (although he apparently stayed away from the 12-performance engagement). "O you people of power, your hour is now, you may plan to rule forever, but you never do somehow"; this might have been seen as a direct joust in those pre-Watergate days. Mass, which was directed by Gordon Davidson and choreographed by Alvin Ailey, then moved on to a three-week stint at the Metropolitan Opera House. Too big for a Broadway theatre, with almost 250 performers and musicians, but not exactly welcome in higher-brow environs. That turned out to be the fate of the piece.

Marin Alsop, music director of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, knows Bernstein well; a protégé of the master, she has had considerable success with his work. As a major keeper of the flame, she undertook a grand concert version of Mass last October (her fifth time conducting the piece). This traveled to Carnegie Hall as part of last fall's Bernstein Festival; the performance on Oct. 24 was decidedly a highlight of my entire theatregoing season.

Ms. Alsop does a phenomenal job; she has clearly studied Bernstein's recording, and effortlessly inhabits the score. But she enhances the piece; certain tempos are altered in a manner that heightens the emotion and adds an element of danger. The impression, beginning midway through, is of a watch-spring being wound tighter and tighter. Alsop retains control, but then the score seems to sneak away from her until -- finally -- the spring is twisted too tight. It breaks and unravels with a clang. This is, of course, precisely what happens in the piece; the Celebrant carefully and valiantly holds on as his faith is bombarded on all sides. Finally, though, "things get broken." The Celebrant's breakdown is mirrored, as it were, from the podium, resulting in a Mass that absolutely soars and startles.

Bernstein, who conducted Mass for the original recording [CBS M2K 44593] but not in the theatre, seems to be running on adrenaline. He couldn't have been especially familiar with the score when he took everybody next door to the Kennedy Center Concert Hall for the recording sessions, struggling as he was to finish the writing. (Certain portions of the text have always sounded like dummy lyrics which never got replaced. Stephen Schwartz, who as a 23-year-old newcomer collaborated with Bernstein on the lyrics, appears to have recently fixed up some of these spots at Alsop's behest.) It is foolish to opine as to how Bernstein would respond to what Alsop has wrought, but I'm inclined to think that he would heartily and vehemently approve, with hugs all around.

What raises this Mass above all others is the presence of Jubilant Sykes as The Celebrant. Alan Titus, who originated the role back in 1971, was very good indeed; but Sykes not only sings this massive part, he acts it. Listening to this recording, you get a sense of the Celebrant as a character; Mass is his journey from religious exaltation to a dark and crushing despair. We can hear the Celebrant of Mr. Sykes thinking as he goes along -- and fighting the thoughts, which distract him from the religious service. He is wound tighter and tighter, like the aforementioned watch-spring, as he progresses from "The Lord's Prayer" to "I Go On" to the "Sanctus"; and his ultimate breakdown, in "Things Get Broken," is simply devastating. Sykes, with the support and assent of Alsop, brings humanity to Bernstein's Mass; and that is the extra magic of this recording.

Alsop leads the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, the Morgan State University Choir, and the Peabody Children's Chorus. Nobody bothers to credit orchestrators Jonathan Tunick and Hershy Kay, so I'll do that here. Bernstein knew what he wanted in this piece, certainly, but he didn't have the time or presumably the inclination to do it himself. (I understand that the composer sheepishly apologized when their names were omitted from the 1971 recording.) And while the 20-person Street Chorus is listed in alphabetical order, none of the soloists are delineated. Thus let me point out that "I Don't Know" is sung by Timothy Shew and Dan Micciche; "Thank You" ("There once were days so bright") is sung by Amy Justman; "Non Credo" ("And was made man") is sung by Kevin Vortmann; Morgan James does "Hurry"; and Max Perlman leads "I Believe in God." Most special of all is Theresa McCarthy, the soloist for "World Without End." (Street Chorus members without major solos include Sarah Uriate Berry.)

But it is Ms. Alsop, and Mr. Sykes, who take this worthy "theatre piece for singers, players and dancers" and give us an even finer recording than Mr. Bernstein's original. Those of you who have been missing out on this score for years be prepared for the reward of this thrilling Mass.

Product Description

When Leonard Bernstein was asked by Jacqueline
Kennedy Onassis to compose the inaugural work
for the opening of The John F. Kennedy Center
for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C., he
wrote: 'The Mass is also an extremely dramatic
event in itself it even suggests a theater work.'
Premiered on September 8, 1971, with additional words by Stephen Schwartz of
Godspell fame, Mass is a remarkable, visionary work with a kaleidoscope of musical
styles that touches on themes of political protest, existential crisis and religious
faith lost and found. Featuring Marin Alsop conducting the Baltimore Symphony
Orchestra and soloist Jubilant Sykes.

See all Editorial Reviews

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

24 of 24 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Critical MASS Rises UP!, September 3, 2009

By 

Tym S. (San Francisco, CA USA) - See all my reviews

This review is from: Bernstein: Mass (Audio CD)

Leonard Bernstein turned Catholic ritual into activist theatre with this crucial work.

But the grand themes hardly make this a mental slog. This music moves and soars, takes surprise tangents and playful turns. It flows with beauty and grace the whole way. Its abundant riches encompass classical chorals and solos, Broadway musicals, world musics, modern dissonance, and sauntering rock and soul styles. Reading the lyrics, which are sung in English as often as Latin, only enriches that smooth ride. Bernstein has made this amazingly accessible without sacrificing any sophistication or depth.

"Mass" reflects the social maelstrom of the counterculture uprisings of the late 60's and early 70's. In musical breadth and examination of belief it is a parallel of the rock musicals "Hair", "Jesus Christ Superstar", and "Godspell". Its themes of anger and confusion in the quest for self-divination also mirror The Who's rock opera "Tommy". Other contemporary spokes in this cycle include the baroque complexity that producer Charles Stephney brought to Rotary Connection's albums; the shining harmonies with tart lyrics of The Free Design; and producer David Axelrod's similar sonic explorations on The Electric Prune's "Mass In F Minor" and "Release Of An Oath" (1968).

Rock fans may also find common musical ground with recent work like Dead Can Dance or Anne Dudley & Jaz Coleman; the classical works of Elvis Costello and Paul McCartney; the adventurous pop work of Ute Lemper and Anne Sofie von Otter; and the rock interpretations of Trio Rococo, The Brodsky Quartet, and The String Quartet.

Bernstein didn't want to reitierate obedience to faith; he wanted to challenge it to prove itself worthy. "Mass" takes the ritual of Latin benediction chants and dissects them with the wit of Brecht and Weill. Its hero the Celebrant leads the congregation in prayer, until the crisis of faith of the increasingly critical masses reach critical mass and cause him to question his own belief. "Give us peace now and peace to hold on to/ And, God, give us some reason to want to." By extension the work questions the divine, the leadership of nations, and the choices of the individual. "Mass" is a confession of deep conflict, a rebellion against silent suffering, a dialogue of ideas. Some may consider the work's questioning of what is rote versus what is right as sacrilegious, but Bernstein succeeds in showing that soul-searching is what gives faith its relevance. The Celebrant's faith shatters when he flings the chalice to the floor: "It's odd how all my body trembles/ Like all this mass/ Of glass on the floor." But he is ultimately able to renew his belief as the simplicity of music shows him the reflection of divinity, and its eternal resonance within.

Infamously, in paranoia about Bernstein's progressive views, the FBI warned President Nixon to avoid the premiere performance. They were uncomfortable with its themes of questioning authority, street rebellions, and anti-war stances. "God said to spread His commands/ To folks in faraway lands/ They may not want us there/ But, man, it's out of our hands." Nixon skipped out. Its political relevency has only increased in recent years, both in anti-war and ecological concerns: "Whispers of living, echoes of warning/ World without end spins endlessly on/ Only the men who lived here are gone/ No one to oil the seas/ No one to anything at all." Naturally it has seen four revivals during the second term of Bush.

This is the one to get. Jubilant Sikes is a brilliant choice for the conflicted hero, with his versatile voice and equally supple delivery. All of the different choral groups and soloists also shine brightly. The music is always alive, flowing, surprising, and beautiful. And with 2 CDs for the price of 1, you can't lose! Viva, la revolucion.

12 of 12 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars The best of the lot, September 4, 2009

By 

J. A. Kawarsky "jaktg" (New Hope, PA United States) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)   

This review is from: Bernstein: Mass (Audio CD)

Many words have been written on this fascinating and quite often uneven work. This recording is the best. Jubilant Sykes hits a Home Run. The recording engineers deserve kudos. Everything makes sense for the first time. It's a "WOW".

12 of 13 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars A worthy new recording of MASS, December 17, 2009

By 

William S. Oser "Snowy and Manny's Dad" (Florida, USA) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)   

Amazon Verified Purchase

This review is from: Bernstein: Mass (Audio CD)

I was in the original production of MASS at Kennedy Center, my big solo was "I believe in God." The singer who sings it on this new recording, conducted beautifully by Bernstein deciple Marin Asop puts me to shame, I only wish I had that kind of POWER on the upper reaches of that trope, and Bernstein wrote it with me in mind. The strength of this recording is Jubilant Sykes as the Celebrant, easily the best of the 3 who have recorded the part (discounting Kent Nagano's simply horrible recording with absolutely NOTHING to recommend it for). Alan Titus had a more solid technique, but I believe Lenny would have adored Mr. Sykes sound which has one foot in the black church and the other in American classical music. His opening Sing God a Simple Song is just what is advertised, a simple, folk like song. He is strong also on Word of the Lord and he simply breaks my heart on the double header Lord's Prayer and I Go On. Alan Titus can't touch him here, he sounds so emotionally tired that when the whole emotional thing comes tumbling down at the end of Agnes Dei you are there with him. A superlative performance in a difficult role. The other singers range from adequate to a few WOWS, but the whole of the performance hangs together well. Krisjan Jarvi's performance on Chandos blends the disparate elements better than Alsop and better than Bernstein (I'm sorry Lenny, but I believe this is true), so that his performance has a bette arc to it, but I don't care for his celebrant all that much and the solo singing has a few glaringly weak spots. All three of the recordings except Nagano have great merit. If I had to choose one recording, it would be Bernstein, it sizzles. For me, I love this piece like one of my children, I'll keep all three around for their different strengths.