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Listening to Tavener's music requires not so much an open mind as one that has been emptied. Onto this blank slate, or tabula rasa, Tavener projects two sorts of basic materials: ecstatic melismas or slow-moving, simple chants. At first, the effects can be pleasant, as the popularity of discs such as
The Protecting Veil no doubt attests; the sounds are usually sweet and often soothing. Soon, the lack of movement becomes evident, at which point listeners can either fall into appreciatively soporific contemplation or regard themselves as victims of a musical form of the ancient Chinese water torture. The use of period instruments and performers (most notably Patricia Rozario and Andrew Manze) changes nothing about the description offered above. Expert singers wail, a few delicate plucks of the harp are transferred to the theorbo, and such fanciful titles as "Petra: A Ritual Dream" suggest far more than they deliver. Listeners seeking mystically oriented music that goes beyond New Age pabulum might prefer to try Messiaen's
Éclairs sur l'Au-Delà or
Trois petites liturgies de la Presence Divine.
--Paul Turok
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Eternity's Sunrise got a critical drubbing (see other review) when it was released in spring 1999--a puzzlingly strong response to such a gentle piece. In part, this was probably a reaction against the label's hype, but some fault lies with the composer as well. For example, in his booklet essay Tavener makes rather much of the work's text--a mystical poem by
William Blake--yet he has set that text to music so slow and so high-lying that singing the words intelligibly is just about impossible. Add to this Tavener's bit about the instruments (in the balcony) representing heaven while the soloist (at floor level) represents the earthly believer--it's no surprise that cynical critics dismissed the whole thing as pretentious claptrap. Now that nearly a year has passed, maybe we can appreciate
Eternity's Sunrise for what it is: a sweet, simple piece with two melodies that alternate like verses of a hymn. The
Academy of Ancient Music's baroque strings really do shimmer, especially in combination with the handbells, and soprano Patricia Rozario sings with the same skill and aplomb she always brings to Tavener's demanding writing. If you just relax and float with the music, it can work magic (especially on repeated hearings), but it's a slight little gem that can't really bear the weight of the expectations placed on it (by its creator, among others) when it first appeared.
Other works on this disc are Funeral Canticle and Petra, a Ritual Dream (which has an fascinating--and intelligible--mystical text of its own, fatuous title notwithstanding), two pieces for baritone soloist and choir, and Song of the Angel, an ethereal tour de force duet for Rozario and violinist Andrew Manze. Then there's the stealth bomb: Sappho: Lyrical Fragments, a dissonant "modernist" composition (written in 1980) of the sort that audiences were reacting against when they embraced composers such as Tavener and Arvo Pärt. Most people inclined to buy this disc in the first place will probably hate this piece initially, but it deserves a chance: by the third and fourth hearings, you might be discovering many interesting twists of melody and instrumental colors. --Matthew Westphal