Some Beauty in This Strange Beast

Busy rebuilding the formerly seedy Times Square into a garishly wholesome 21st century center of family entertainment, Mickey may not have much time or inclination for uptown culture these days; but his folks do. So honchos from the Walt Disney Corp. joined by television personalities such as Barbara Walters, walked up the red carpet in front of Avery Fisher Hall on Friday night for the premiere of Disney’s latest entertainment extravaganza, a pair of millennium symphonies.

It is a curious project; it was a strange night. On the table from Disney was a bit of Hollywood know-how that it felt could make classical music more user-friendly; classical music’s offering to Disney was a bit of class, if the company actually managed to commission a couple of truly inspiring and accessible messages for our time. After sifting through some 127 potential composers, Disney found Aaron Kernis and Michael Torke--two youngish, hip (just under 40), acclaimed American composers. Disney chief executive Michael Eisner, whose idea this project was, put a world of resources at their disposal (along with reportedly hundreds of thousands of dollars in commission fees). He lined up the New York Philharmonic and its conductor, the East German taskmaster, Kurt Masur. And he gave everyone involved lots of suggestions, including a plot and storyboards.

This style of commissioning, and especially Disney’s insistence on co-owning the music, has caused much discussion in the classical music community. On the one hand, the company does have a record of impressive results from important artists upon whom it has lavished its attentions and resources. Because of Eisner, Burbank and Orlando now have Postmodern architecture, and Broadway has Julie Taymor’s “The Lion King.” And who can complain about a new source of deep pockets for an art form as expensive as symphonic music?

But on the other hand there is the worry of Disney’s ultimate commercial motives and its trademark vision of a cozy Americana that could trivialize genuine artistic expression. Eisner had something in mind about looking back at recent events in America. And he had hoped to blow up the homespun plot into something really big, Mahler’s gargantuan Eighth (“Symphony of a Thousand”) being the inspiration. A children’s chorus was a must.

So given all that, Disney should count itself lucky that it got as much exciting music out of the long evening as it did. But also given all that, it is hardly surprising that the sappiness quotient was as high as it was.

Kernis and Torke, friends and former classmates from Yale, were well aware that the opportunity to write for vast forces might come along only once in a lifetime and weren’t about to let it go by. Both wrote extravagant choral symphonies, each with four vocal soloists, a large orchestra, large chorus and, of course, the children (who were adorable).

Kernis went first Friday with “Garden of Light,” a 40-minute impulsive explosion of sound and effusive lyricism. Kernis’ melodic writing is almost decadently lush with its bittersweet extended melodies, rich harmonies and lavish orchestrations. Big comes naturally to him. He is a composer for whom too much is never quite enough.

“Garden of Light,” however, is undone by words. Poets David Simpatico and Menna Elfyn try to capture a childish wonder that begins with the creation of light and looks at sparks of electricity and love, the big bang and atomic bombs, the fires of the Inquisition and Holocaust. The music explodes and flickers with considerable imagination, but the trite texts make wondrous music seem naive and, worse, practically demands that the composer add candy-coating of his own.

Homey Snapshots of Historic Events

Torke’s “Four Seasons” is longer (an hour) and more straightforward. Each season has three parts, each part is a small story, some of which alludes to Eisner’s original treatment. Torke’s style is to take a small amount of musical material, a catchy phrase or rhythm, and then become obsessed with it, fracturing it, shattering it like shards of glass throughout the orchestra. It is music with bounding momentum, yet it is unpredictable, so intricate that the ear can’t possibly grasp all the details, but immediately apprehensible in intent and direction. He got his texts from Philip Littell and they are better mainly because there are fewer of them, and fewer cliches.

The “stories” are homey snapshots from recent history, including the Korean War, the Summer of Love and a no-hitter ball game. Torke has a lively Minimalist’s way with word setting but seems happier without--in the orchestral sections; in a very beautiful blues vocalise for a chorus speechless as it recalls the tragedies of JFK, Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy; and in the high-spirited set of variations on “Nah nah nahnah nah” that the American Boychoir, after dashing down the aisles, sung with irresistible high-spirits.

The performances were well-prepared (the orchestra had two weeks of rehearsal, the New York Choral Artists had been working on its parts since the beginning of summer). But they were also oddly lackluster. Masur marshals large forces with authority, but he is not one to exaggerate to the point to which Kernis’ over-the-top writing becomes interesting or to bop in the way that makes Torke sizzle.

The soloists--Margaret Lloyd, Mary Phillips, Anthony Dean Griffey, Dean Ely and Jubilant Sykes--could sound sumptuous but could also, with the exception of the ever-vivid Sykes, seem bland. Perhaps there is just no way to make these words come to life.

In the end, it appears Kernis and Torke gave Disney what it needed. There are any number of catchy, alluring, luminous symphonic sound bites to last the company for years. But who is the audience for these symphonies? Aaron Copland created memorable music for and of the people by keeping the sentiment simple yet not simplistic and the music sophisticated yet direct. Kernis and Torke, unfortunately, had too much to work with and too much to compensate for.

Disney’s “Millennial Symphonies,” will be played again Tuesday at Avery Fisher Hall, New York. (212) 721-6500 or www.newyorkphilharmonic.org.