Page 210 - FINAL_The Sixteen Coverage Book 40th Anniversary Year
P. 210

All symphonies were sacred symphonies, once. Haydn began each

                   day’s composition with a prayer, and ended every score with the

                   words ‘Laus Deo’. ‘These thoughts cheered me up,’ he told his
                   biographer Albert Dies. Haydn, like Mozart, was a lifelong Catholic,

                   and the Swiss theologian Hans Küng has suggested that the daring,

                   exuberance and glorious wholeness that characterises even Mozart’s

                   secular music comes from a specifically Catholic understanding of

                   the universe: of salvation perceived not as an object of struggle, but

                   as an unshakable, all-embracing certainty.


                   Sir James MacMillan’s Fifth Symphony concerns itself with the

                   Holy Spirit, but he struggled to find an English phrase that did the

                   job, so its title is Le grand inconnu. A useful hint of vagueness there

                   — offering scope to change the subject in the face of those who

                   can’t or won’t understand. But it’s always healthy to tweak the

                   whiskers of prim progressives, and MacMillan’s programme note for
                   this world première paid the most backhanded compliment

                   imaginable to Darmstadt and the spectralists before falling largely

                   silent on the supremely assured Great Unknown of the music itself.

                   And sure enough, I can tell you roughly what MacMillan’s Fifth

                   does. What it says is something with which I’m still grappling, three
                   days after witnessing a sizeable Usher Hall audience rise, cheering,

                   to its feet. It’s a choral symphony, and in this performance with the

                   Scottish Chamber Orchestra under Harry Christophers, the Sixteen

                   served as a semi-chorus, with four singers stepping briefly out as

                   soloists. Using sacred texts in English, Hebrew, Greek and Latin, the
                   three movements address the notion of the Spirit as air (or breath), as

                   water, and as fire.



                   From that starting point, MacMillan rummages energetically through

                   the whole toybox of musical colour and memory. Like Tippett’s

                   Fourth, the symphony opens with the sound of human breath; and
                   the first climax resembles a speeded-up opening of Wagner’s







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