Marshaling Forces for Fallen Patriots

Richard Danielpour’s “An American Requiem” is dedicated to heroes. It was originally intended to commemorate those who fought for freedom in World War II. Completed last summer, it was meant to tie in to the current American interest in that heroic generation. Timing added a new element, and by the time of its premiere Wednesday night at the Orange County Performing Arts Center, the dedication was widened to include all who died in connection with the Sept. 11 attacks, along with the “American Soldier--past, present and future.”

But “An American Requiem,” the culmination of Danielpour’s three-year composer-in-residency with the Pacific Symphony, is not a work so much about heroism as patriotism. There is not the heroic striving in music that Beethoven invented, an overcoming of obstacles that inspires in a listener a sense of profound admiration and often joy. Rather, what is most evidently heroic in “American Requiem”--written for a large orchestra, large chorus and three vocal soloists and lasting an hour--is the scale. The sentiment, even when Danielpour unleashes the might of nearly 300 musical troops, is ultimately contemplative. With sad pride he looks back at war’s toll using the text of the Latin Requiem mass, shot through with poetic Americana by Whitman, Emerson, H.D., Michael Harper and the words of a traditional spiritual.

Over the past two decades, Danielpour has accumulated the trappings of a highly successful career. The performers who have taken an interest in his work include Yo-Yo Ma, Emmanuel Ax, Jessye Norman, Dawn Upshaw, Frederica von Stade, Thomas Hampson, Leonard Slatkin and the Emerson and Guarneri string quartets. He is presently writing an opera with Toni Morrison. Audiences tend to like his skillful applications of styles they readily apprehend, from a kind of Samuel Barber moodiness to spunky Minimalism to smart Bernsteinian rhythms. His own voice has been more elusive, however, in his overriding desire to please listener and performer. Many critics distrust him.

“An American Requiem” is no more original than many of Danielpour’s other scores. He is hardly the first to scan “re-qui-em” as two shorts and a long, and underscore it with the same rhythmic motto in the timpani. There is much repetition, simple figures recur, unchanged or, at best, barely varied. The chromatic harmony is simple. The rhythms are sometimes more complex, but they always have the easy feel of the American vernacular.

And yet Danielpour’s directness can be compelling. Unlike John Adams’ “El Nino” or Philip Glass’ Fifth Symphony, deeply original and thoughtful large-scale millennial pieces that reflect on the largest issues of the age, Danielpour serves an audience’s more immediate emotional needs for consolation and inspiration. He uses his resources with careful and dramatic restraint. When he does unleash his forces, as in the Dies Irae, his gives them a certain Berliozian brass-and-percussion power. Were he a general in the army, he would be a cautious and wise one.

Interspersed with the Latin text are the excerpts of mournful American poems, selected with little imagination by Kim Vaeth, and set for the soloists. One of those was magnificent young mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe, who has a large and rich voice and the ability to make every note she sings carry wondrous weight and every word tell. The sheer eloquence she brought to this music made a listener take it seriously and understand just how well Danielpour writes for his performers. Impressive too were tenor Hugh Smith and baritone Mark Oswald.

Carl St.Clair, the music director of the Pacific Symphony, was in his element with “An American Requiem.” This is not particularly challenging music to players, but it does allow them the opportunity to make brilliant sounds, and the orchestra did so. The Pacific Chorale sounded unusually polished as well. A recording by an audiophile label, Reference Recordings, will follow shortly.

To prepare his audience for “An American Requiem,” St.Clair dug into a ragbag of Americana for the first half of the program. There was, I think, a vague theme of death and resurrection to be found in the variety-show juxtapositions of William Schuman’s “New England Triptych,” William Bolcom’s “Graceful Ghost” Rag piano solo, Frank Ticheli’s “There Will Be Rest” for a cappella chorus, a movement from Duke Ellington’s “The River,” Leonard Bernstein’s “Make Our Garden Grow” from “Candide” and “Oh, Lawd, I’m On My Way” from Gershwin’s “Porgy and Bess.” The performers included a rhythmically whoozy jazz pianist, Patrick Stoyanovich. Two pleasing young local singers, mezzo-soprano Silvia Vasquez and tenor Chad Berlinghieri, appeared in the Bernstein. Carver Cossey and Friends, on hand for the Gershwin, added an unlisted spiritual and were a hit.