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SYMPHONY REVIEW
Scaling The Heights In San Mateo
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By Clifford Cranna
"No guts, no glory," read the sign on my former boss's desk. It's a lesson that has clearly been taken to heart by Eric Kujawsky, music director
of the the Redwood Symphony, a largely volunteer orchestra based at Cañada College in Redwood City. Throwing caution to the wind, the intrepid
maestro gathered his forces on Sunday afternoon to scale one of
the more difficult peaks in the standard orchestral repertoire, Gustav
Mahler's monumental Symphony No. 8 (1906). Often called the Symphony of a Thousand, it requires a gigantic orchestra, two full mixed choruses, children's chorus, and as many as eight soloists.
The task would have seemed insurmountable to the average maestro in
Kujawksy's situation, but during the fourteen years since his founding of the
Redwood Symphony, he has made somewhat of a specialty of Mahler. This season he has culminated his exploration of all the Mahler symphonic works with this assault on the formidable Eighth Symphony, having assiduously assembled a multitude of no fewer than five Peninsula choruses: the College of Notre Dame Campus-Community Chorus, the Skyline College Choir, Peninsula Cantare, the Peninsula Girls Chorus, and Ragazzi (the Peninsula Boys Chorus). The accumulation of performers was so great that the orchestra's regular campus venue had to be abandoned in favor of the San Mateo Performing Arts Center, where the masses were jammed onto every inch of the stage, straight back to the concrete blocks of the rear wall. A large, diverse crowd including many students were on hand to cheer them on.
The Symphony of a Thousand is in some ways an odd pairing of two contrasting
choral movements whose unifying theme is the universal power of love. The
shorter opening portion is an ecstatic setting of the medieval Latin hymn
Veni, Creator Spiritus (Come, Creator Spirit), which calls upon the
life-giving deity to fill all human hearts with love. From an eighth-row center seat, the choral forces, despite their mass, were largely overpowered by the orchestra in this movement. (A retreat to a spot in the far reaches of the auditorium for the second portion of the concert
allowed them to be heard at far better advantage.)
Kujawsky led a well-paced performance marked more by exuberance than majestic
sweep. The well-trained choruses were at their best in the quiet sections,
and concertmaster Brigitte Moyer was effective in the delicate violin solos.
The longer second portion is Mahler's interpretation of the final scene of
Goethe's Faust. Here the concept of universal love is invoked in the
context of sublime and eternal forgiveness, as the soul of Faust the Sinner,
now forgiven by a transfigured Marguerite, is welcomed into Paradise by the
heavenly hosts, drawn ever upward by the embodiment of German inspiration,
the "Eternal Feminine."
The hushed and mysterious introduction to this section got a rough start,
with some pitch and tone problems in the woodwinds and brass. Matters
improved considerably, though, as the movement progressed toward its
impressive climax. Kujawsky was in fine control of his forces, ably
supporting his large team of soloists. Among these, the women fared best,
the clear stand-out being soprano Emily Breedlove. Her fine-spun tone
soared easily above the orchestra and was especially appealing as the
offstage voice of "Mater Gloriosa" welcoming the redeemed soul into Paradise. She was capably joined by soprano Wendy Loder and mezzos Heidi Waterman and Sally
Mouzon.
Marc Lowenstein's light tenor proved to be no match for Mahler's weighty
demands. Baritone Ryan Taylor had some appealing moments as "Pater
Ecstaticus," while bass-baritone George Hernandez struggled with the extremes
of range required.
The idea of mounting the Symphony of a Thousand with amateur forces may in
some respects have seemed quixotic, but there can be no denying that
Kujawsky's determination and the obvious diligence and dedication of all his
performers brought some moments of musical satisfaction that were well worth
the effort.
(Clifford (Kip) Cranna is Musical Administrator of the San Francisco Opera,
Program Advisor for the Carmel Bach Festival, and a frequent lecturer on
music appreciation.)
©1999 Clifford Cranna, all rights reserved
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