Sweet and Sublime, March 20, 2008
By Daniel Dropko (Vermilion, OH United States) - See all my reviews
Sometime last year, I was flying out of Miami Airport absent-mindedly gazing out the window. As the plane banked in its climb, I saw below us an amazing sight. It was as if someone had drawn a crooked line, all 90 degree angles, across the landscape. On one side were the trappings of civilization -- homes, businesses, roads -- and on the other side -- nothing. It was as though "civilization" had been gently lifted from the map, leaving an immense emptiness that stretched as far as our airborne eyes could see: the Everglades.
Of course the Glades are anything but empty. As this fascinating musical project reminds us, the Everglades are not something to be experienced from afar, like a canyon or cityscape, but up close -- intimate and personal. I don't think it is too much of a stretch to say that the Glades are more than just a habitat; they resemble a kind of independent, composite organism, one that breathes, eats, and lives. Or dies.
That, anyhow, is the perception that is left with the listener after hearing "Pahayokee -- a Plea for Life". It is styled a song cycle, and indeed it consists of five related "songs". But it has little in common with the familiar examples from Schubert or Schumann. To the listener it seems more like a tone poem with settings for voice. But that is a personal impression. What matters is that it is a work of great beauty, and by the end accomplishes an interesting and unique bit of magic.
It begins with ambient sound from the Everglades. But we soon realize that this is not a simple "environment" recording. John Boehr's sweet baritone sings in a musical vocabulary straight out of the twentieth century art song repertoire. This is music that claims your attention, that has something to say, and is not there to soothe the listener into a meditative state. The juxtaposition of natural sound at its purest with musical composition at its most challenging is initially jarring (but read on), as is the message. The Everglades, a creature of water, is dying for lack of it.
The middle three sections are more traditionally songlike, though still in the contemporary mode. Echoes of Copeland's art songs, and traditional spirituals are there, but the sections are not merely derivitive. Mr. Boehr is at his best in the second and fourth songs, where his warmth and tonal control are heard to great advantage. Lyrically, the cycle reaches a kind of climax in the fourth movement, "Hang on My Friend", where the Everglades become not just the subject of the song, but its object. You don't sing to a wetland. You sing to a friend.
And now for the magic. Sometime early on, the composer introduces a strict canonic repetition in the vocal parts. Since this is principally a melodic, not a harmonic, canon, we hear the parts in a linear mode, sometimes complementing, sometimes clashing harmonically. But we quickly become accustomed to it. It is then, when at the beginning of the last section the natural sounds of the Everglades are heard again, that we begin to hear the natural music, also a linear product, along with the composed. We realize that they are not so different after all, and that the initial clash of sound and style was a product of our hearing, not of the natural harmonies that were there all along. As the sound fades, the quiet simple notes of the piano become yet another voice of the Everglades. Or is it the other way around? Have the voices of the Everglades become one with ours? It's a nice experience.
This would be a dishonest review if I said I liked everything about the piece(s). There is an electronically sustained tone at the end of the first section, a kind of musical "freeze frame", that is a nice effect, but was to me a distraction given the way the entire composition played out. Later in the piece, the frantically declaimed "The Glades are dying!" text also seemed out of place. I understand it was there to forecefully make a point, but for me the point had already been eloquently made. So I originally considered four stars instead of five. But upon reflection, these are very minor quibbles (and may indeed be to another's liking), and so my recommendation remains at five.
So sit back, take your time, listen to the whole thing from beginning to end, and feel yourself transported. It's worth it. God Save the Everglades.
Daniel Dropko - www.amazon.com
(Mar 20, 2008)