Baptism of ‘Saint Matthew’

In Tan Dun’s ritualistic “Water Passion After Saint Matthew,” given its local premiere Sunday night by the Los Angeles Master Chorale in Walt Disney Concert Hall, Bach takes a bath. So do singers, percussionists and anyone sitting too close to the stage, on which large, translucent bowls of water serve as percussion instruments.

The “Water Passion” was the fourth of four extraordinary new musical passions after the Gospels of Luke, Mark, John and Matthew commissioned by the International Bach Academy in Stuttgart, Germany, to celebrate the millennium in 2000.

German composer Wolfgang Rihm took his inspiration from Luke, using the story of Jesus’ last days to question belief in a country with historical blood on its hands. Using John as her source, the Russian Sophia Gubaidulina wrote perhaps her most ravishingly mystical work, a 90-minute piece she has since expanded. Osvaldo Golijov, a Jew who grew up in Argentina, presented a black Jesus, an outsider who rocked to South and Central American rhythms. “La Pasion Segun San Marcos” was the big hit of the bunch and made the composer, now living in America, a classical music celebrity.

But it was the even weirder “Water Passion” that created the greatest curiosity. Tan grew up in Maoist China barely aware of Judeo-Christian tradition, let alone Bach. Here, then, was a composer who had become adept at mingling Western and Chinese music, at combining popular music devices with those from the avant-garde, confronting one of the most revered masterpieces in sacred art: Bach’s “Saint Matthew” Passion.

For Tan, Jesus was not the outsider, he was. He read Matthew as someone far more tuned in to Taoist thought than Christian belief. He was struck by physical elements in this Gospel, by water, sand and stone. Especially water.

Having just completed a water percussion concerto for the New York Philharmonic, Tan then read of the baptism and needed no more encouragement. He placed three large bowls for three percussionists at the points of a cross onstage, then added a row of vessels through the middle of the chorus in which soloists and singers could take a ceremonial elbow bath at the end.

Tan presents the Passion story as something akin to Chinese opera, but Chinese opera with a window on the West. Two vocal soloists, a soprano and bass, need to be able to sing strongly enough for Strauss, inflect like Beijing Opera singers and take a stab at Tibetan and Tuvan throat singing. Two solo parts were written for the country music violinist Mark O’Connor and cellist Yo-Yo Ma (who didn’t make the premiere, at which the part was played by Maya Beiser). The initial chorus was German, schooled in Bach.

The result may have been predictably multi-culti, but in a new way. Tan has the gift for making the obvious astral. A commonplace sequencing tune takes on cosmic significance. Things seem to happen just because they do. A very familiar story suddenly became new.

The percussionists splish-splash. The sounds of dripping water set us on a watery voyage, as the vessels are attacked with cups to create exciting percussive snaps, or gongs are dipped into them, bending the sound.

The singers enact the drama. They don’t tell how Jesus felt or much of what he said. They don’t interpret his life, spirit or significance. They simply use a remarkably large arsenal of vocal and dramatic effects, taken from a variety of cultures and traditions, to express what he did, what happened.

Like its classical Greek counterpart, the chorus reacts. But like the chorus in Bach, it also enacts the role of the people. For the earthquake, it helped with the thunder.

The Master Chorale performance Sunday, led with precision and vitality by music director Grant Gershon, featured the singers from the Stuttgart premiere, Elizabeth Keusch and Stephen Bryant, and they were once again amazing. Also from Stuttgart was David Cossin, a close associate of Tan, as the lead of the three percussionists. The string players were violinist Jennifer Koh and cellist Kristina Reiko Cooper -- both striking virtuosos if not strong personalities.

It was a stirring performance, but Disney struggled to contain the sonic flood. Tan calls for considerable amplification, and there is also an important role for a digital sampler. This was essentially more than the hall could handle.

Solutions have lately been found to make slight amplification work in what is basically an amplification-unfriendly space. Still, balance proved a problem, and an overall ungracious electronic sheen colored singers and strings. The sound became easier to take as the evening progressed -- whether that was due to engineering or the ear adjusting, I can’t say.

Still, this is a special piece, and despite the technical problems it got a special performance.

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Los Angeles Master Chorale

Where: Walt Disney Concert Hall, 111 S. Grand Ave., L.A.

When: 7:30 p.m. today

Price: $19 to $79

Contact: (800) 787-5262 or www.lamc.org