A St. Luke Passion with grandeur

Tuesday, April 9, 2002

Daniel Webster

for The Philadelphia Inquirer

Krzysztof Penderecki struck defiant blows for freedom - politically and musically - when he published his St. Luke Passion in 1966. Here was a devout theme offered in Communist-dominated Poland and an iconoclastic assault on accepted musical norms of East and West.

The work has since shrugged off many of its momentary aspects, but in its performance Saturday at Girard College Chapel by the Mendelssohn Club's forces, St. Luke Passion showed its still apparent religious fervor, musical directness and grandeur.

Conductor Alan Harler led this rarely heard landmark work. His forces included the expanded Chamber Orchestra of Philadelphia, the Newark Boys Chorus, his own singers, narrator, and three soloists. In the echoing reaches of the chapel, the placement of the choirs' singers enhanced the work's theatricality. The composer chose texts with strong dramatic weight, and each section took on visual connotations as the instruments painted graphic images and dense choral writing echoed the mobs.

Harler wisely performed the piece as a unit, pausing only a few moments before starting Part 2; the passion has unstinting momentum and powerful interior references that could have been lost in a long intermission.

The work reaches its climax in the "Stabat Mater." The clusters of sound, the dark percussion rumblings and portentous chimes, the improvised rustlings all led up to the choral's singing in that sorrowing section, demonstrating the singers' focus and conductor's ability to build and sustain the tension within a long section.

Harler also managed to keep the conflation of old and new in front of his listeners, for the wildest outburst still preserves the essence of church music from deep in history. The Latin texts were sung with admirable clarity, but the supertitles projected over the performers were unnecessary: Even in moments when singers and instrumentalists were pouring everything into their dramatic involvement, the words were still in the air.

Using Bach's model, the composer uses a narrator and three soloists to sing the roles of the central figures. Mezzo-soprano Katherine Ciesinski gave her arias and scenes balance, clarity and attractive musicality. Her parts commented on events as much as they were portrayals, and her singing made the right distinctions.

Baritone Kurt Ollmann portrayed important roles, singing lines that took him into falsetto and through a wide sonic range. Bass Dan Cole added weight and color to the weaving solo roles, and Harold Parker, the narrator, drew the work's elements closely together.

However revolutionary the piece sounded when new, its elements have been absorbed into the musical language until it now sounds a little old-fashioned. At the same time, its variety and gestures make its deeply felt point.