Page 194 - FINAL_The Sixteen Coverage Book 40th Anniversary Year

Tension built in the orchestra like a tightly coiled spring, emerging violas unsuccessfully battered down
by a snare drum, the music suddenly surging to a terrifying depth with wild harp glissandi adding to the
chaos. The overall sadness remained with softer contributions from bass clarinet and cor anglais before
thundering unison strings hurtled downwards and a dark martial pulse with a snare drum starting afar
but completely dominating brought this movement, the heart of the work, to a shattering close. A brief
postlude with dancelike rhythms and cello pedal point had MacMillan pointing to various players and
sections, counting on his fingers, guiding the piece through arresting harmonies to the ethereal
combination of soft harp and bells.

“Le Grand Inconnu” is a French term to describe the mystery of the Holy Spirit, but MacMillan suggests
that his new symphony is not a liturgical work but a piece to inspire the spiritual understanding many still
seek. Set out in three elemental movements, “Ruah” (wind), “Zao” (Water) and finally “Igne vel igne”
(Fire), the work is scored for orchestra, chamber choir and chorus with four solo parts, texts a mixture of
Hebrew, Greek and biblical. Macmillan used the forces who commissioned his recent Stabat Mater, Harry
Christophers conducting with singers and soloists from The Sixteen and the Genesis Sixteen.

Twenty years on from his Second, MacMillan’s music has become less fragmentary and more lyrical, yet
retaining an astonishing sharp edge. His palette of unusual orchestral textures had me scanning the
orchestra on several occasions to discover exactly which players were responsible for producing unusual
sounds. The choral writing was multi-layered, dense and achingly beautiful, the Sixteen and Genesis
Sixteen’s clear voices blending seamlessly with perfect diction. While composing this symphony
MacMillan broke off to write a 40-part motet, Vidi Aquam, his response to Tallis’ Spem in alium and the
contrapuntal embroidery is used in this work producing great washes of sound.

“Ruah” opened the work with the choir breathing in and out, joined by the woodwind and brass blowing
through their instruments, the spell eventually breaking with fluttering violins, firsts divided into six parts
the music climaxing on a shout of “Pneuma” from the chorus with the rasp of natural horns and
trumpets. A percussionist energetically turning a wind machine added turbulence and drama, but the
choral music shone through, Christophers guiding the performers perfectly.

As the harp, piano and violins created the watery “Zao”, four solo singers added a wonderful depth, Julie
Cooper’s bell-clear soprano soaring in a folky melody, passed across to Kim Porter’s powerful and warm
mezzo, Mark Dobell’s sweet tenor and Ben Davies bass making memorable contribution. I loved the
unaccompanied 20-voice motet, full of overlapping detail ending in a choral cry of living water as the bells
brought us back to the initial soundscape.

“Inge vel Igne” began quietly, the choir’s “living flame of love” full of quiet deep beauty with delicious
harmonic resolutions, but the movement built to a frantic heady climax as the living flame changed death
to life, players slapping their instruments and lower strings bowing below the bridge, the orchestra
resolving into a quiet ending.

Open the papers and it is the elements making headlines: quality of the air we breathe, wildfires raging in
the arctic, shortages of water and disappearing glaciers causing rising sea levels. MacMillan has created a
spiritual symphony for today, not just for those seeking deeper meaning in the mysterious third part of
the Trinity, but for everyone, shining a light on the elemental things we need for humanity to survive. The
Usher Hall audience awarded him a standing ovation as he returned to the stage to take his bow, an
exciting reception for a new work.

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