Tan himself stood on the podium to conduct (or, rather, coordinate) this multi-media performance-art work. Between him and the near-invisible chorus, a straight row of eight large, water-filled Plexiglass bowls. Another set of eight bowls (travelling with the production from Stuttgart) were set up horizontally, so the bowls formed an appropriate Cross. Lighted from below, the water in the bowls was reflected on the stage ceiling; when the percussionists "played" (hit, swished, sloshed, caressed. elbowed, palmed) the water, the surface movements created vibrations in the reflections.

Instead of an orchestra, Water Passion uses soloists, all but festival percussionist Charles Dowd travelling with the Stuttgart production. Elizabeth Keusch (Devil, Judas, Evangelist) sang spectacularly in the coloratura stratosphere, most of her music (and shouting) set between high C and E, produced without a hint of shrillness.

Bass Stephen Bryant (Jesus) mixed "normal" music with Tuvan or Mongolian throat-singing sounds; the chorus also had parts requiring overtone singing and they responded admirably.

Two amazing instrumentalists made attendance worthwhile all by themselves: violinist/fiddler Todd Reynolds, playing with brilliance and abandon, and a Paganini-clone cellist, Maya Beiser, who made her instrument sound like a very large pipe organ on steroids.

The theme of water is heard not only in the physical sounds from inside those bowls, but also in the text: "Baptism" is the first section, "Water and Resurrection" is the last. There are burbling brooks ("Bach" in German), a quiet lake at Gethsemane, dripping water and blood, violently turbulent torrents in the "Death and Earthquake" section.

And what of the music? Here, representing what's likely to be a minority report in the midst of ovation, I say that Emperor Tan has no musical clothes. Appreciating the festival money and effort that have gone into this enterprise, recognizing the applause for the work here and elsewhere, one still must ask when confronted by thin slices of razzle-dazzle, "Where's the beef?"

Th3 ecumenical spirit of the festival, embracing even, or perhaps especially those whose only religion is music, is built on Helmuth Rilling's integrity, from the interpretation of music to matters of faith. Newly fashionable as Tan may be, this work of effects (sound, special, manipulative) stands apart from Rilling's advocacy of substance and value in its obvious search to titillate and impress. Nonetheless, it was Rilling who commissioned the work, along with three others for his Passion 2000 celebration in Stuttgart where he had ample opportunity to evaluate it before bringing it here.

It may be a stretch to compare Tan to Andrew Lloyd Webber, but there is a clear parallel between two talented composers taking easy, quick shortcuts to fame and fortune. Tan writes some beautiful passages, especially for the cello, but the vast majority of the work is unison ostinato, disjointed phrases, the story doesn't move forward, nor does the music touch the head or the heart. Water Passion is just as entertaining on first viewing as Cats; having heard both more times than I cared to, it's clear the rate of return similarly declines.

As to the advertised new, innovative nature of Water Passion, using actual sounds instead of musical representation goes back a few centuries. In the matter of using "exotic" instruments, Lou Harrison's gongs, Olivier Messiaen's ondes martenot, John Cage's 4'33" silence at the piano, all have several decades - and much more originality - over Tan. The shrieks and bird calls Tan wrote for the soprano have all been done by Meredith Monk, 20 years ago, more effectively. (And how about those contemporary hip-hop masters of turntable scratching - will we hear the best of them in Silva next year? Their novelty may exceed what Tan is offering.) When it comes to water, Cage tried it twice in 1977: Inlets and Pools, to conch shells, water, and tape. with Merce Cunningham's choreography.

Ironically, it is exactly the automatic standing ovation that belies the claim to something "revolutionary." Truly new, bold works are received in the fashion of the fist fights in the concert hall, riots on the streets that greeted Stravinsky's "scandalous" 1913 premiere of The Rite of Spring in the Théatre des Champs-Elysées.

Have audiences grown so much that they can instantly understand and appreciate bold modern music in 2002? Do the good people of Eugene have the right stuff over the Paris bourgeoisie? Let me suggest something more plausible.

The fascination and popularity of Water Passion is more aligned with the nature and reasons for the success of teenage soprano Charlotte Church, blind tenor Andrea Boccelli, singing warmed-over Puccini in cat costumes, musicals with chandeliers and helicopters. It's entertainment, but not lasting, worthwhile MUSIC that demands to be heard again, that grows within the listener every time it is repeated. As to playing amplified water in the concert hall, one may hazard a guess that the festival is not giving birth to a new, viable genre.

(Janos Gereben, a regular contributor to www.sfcv.org, is arts editor of the Post Newspaper Group. His e-mail address is janos451@earthlink.net.)

©2002 Janos Gereben, all rights reserved