Richard Danielpour: The Passion of Yeshua. Hila Plitmann, soprano;
J’Nai Bridges, mezzo-soprano; Timothy Fallon, tenor; Matthew Worth, Kenneth
Overton and James K. Bass, baritones; UCLA Chamber Singers and Buffalo Philharmonic
Chorus and Orchestra conducted by JoAnn Falletta. Naxos. $25.99 (2 CDs).
Every time period has its own forms of
acknowledgment, celebration and worship; and among Christians, every time
period has its own way, musical and otherwise, of paying homage and tribute to
Jesus. The way chosen by Richard Danielpour (born 1956) goes back to Hebrew,
the original language of the Jews – of whom Jesus was one – and returns to the
original form of Jesus’ name, Yeshua, which was a common one at the time and is
attached to numerous characters in the Bible. The New Testament was written in
Greek, and the name Jesus was rendered as beginning with the equivalent of an
“I,” there being no “J” in Greek. The “J” results from a 16th-century
typographical error that was perpetuated in later printings of the Bible. But
none of this particularly matters to believers, any more than do the differing
pronunciations of “J” and therefore of “Jesus” in modern languages. The
reference is what matters, and the reference is clear.
Nevertheless, Danielpour’s use of the
original name, complemented by his inclusion of Hebrew passages among the
English ones in his “Dramatic Oratorio in Fourteen Scenes,” shows how
determined the composer is to revisit Christ’s Passion from an angle both new
and as old as the Gospels themselves. Naxos’ world première recording of The Passion of Yeshua (2017) does full
justice to Danielpour’s vision, thanks to the strong involvement and fine vocal
talents of half a dozen soloists and the highly committed, knowing and
knowledgeable conducting with which JoAnn Falletta shapes the performances of
the UCLA Chamber Singers and the Buffalo Philharmonic Chorus and Orchestra.
In line with the common modern focus on
the human side of Yeshua/Jesus, The
Passion of Yeshua is filled with emotionally engaging, involving music that
explores the pain and suffering of Christ’s last days on Earth. In line with
the contemporary desire to increase the prominence of women in narratives of
all sorts, The Passion of Yeshua
makes both Jesus’ mother Mary (here “Miryam,” sung by J’Nai Bridges) and Mary
Magdalene (here “Miryam Magdala,” sung by Hila Plitmann) as prominent in the
oratorio as is Yeshua (Kenneth Overton) himself. The result is a greater
contemplation of compassion and forgiveness than a focus on the more-abstract
notion of divinity-made-human and the attainment of eternal life through
unswerving belief. And Danielpour’s music fits the emotional tone and undertone
of the libretto, which he himself adapted and assembled, very well. The musical
medium he chooses is essentially tonal, the choruses in particular having an
old-fashioned massed feeling that recalls elements of the Baroque without in
any way imitating (or even paying direct tribute to) the works of the Baroque
masters. When Danielpour uses dissonance, he does so movingly and even
cleverly: for example, rather than employing it obviously in the fifth scene,
“Betrayal,” he uses it in the chorus of the seventh, “Interlude,” which
immediately follows the longest scene of all, “Gethsemane.”
Danielpour’s treatment of the events is
full of surprising, very effective touches. The fifth scene, “Intermezzo: In
the Valley of the Shadow of Death,” is only slightly gloomy and in some
respects is almost tender, as if anticipating Yeshua’s conquest of death and
the redemption, through his sacrifice, of all believers. The 11th
scene, “Behold the Man,” lapses into percussive barbarousness when the crowd
demands of Pilate (Timothy Fallon) the release not of Yeshua but of Barabbas. And
the 12th scene, “Via Dolorosa,” although certainly dark enough,
features a high, operatic soprano that floats above the somber instrumental
material; here too is there an implication that the pain, sorrow and suffering
in the straightforward story (which is moved at an appropriate pace by narrator
Matthew Worth) are scarcely the whole meaning here, or even the most important
one.
The
Passion of Yeshua is a long work, running more than an hour and three
quarters. But like Handel’s Messiah,
to which it is something of a counterpart (and which is even longer),
Danielpour’s piece includes enough differences in its scenes and enough
differentiation among its characters to retain audience interest throughout. In
fact, Danielpour offers a 21st-century audience an alternative way
of looking at the last days of Yeshua/Jesus, one that coexists with and
complements the approach of Handel and his librettist, Charles Jennens. Messiah proceeds operatically, but
without a strong focus on Jesus or any other character: to the extent that
there is a protagonist, it is the chorus, which is to say all of humanity. It
is a macrocosmic view of events, a brilliant one that encompasses a promise to
all people. The Passion of Jeshua is far
more personalized. The troubles and suffering of Yeshua/Jesus are central here,
but so are the feelings of Miryam and Miryam Magdala: their sorrow provides a
microcosm of the pain of all, a pain that only Danielpour’s 14th scene,
“Epilogue,” truly resolves with a message of peace and resolution that is
thoroughly effective and deeply reassuring. The sheer beauty of Handel’s music,
and the comfort level its words provide to those who share the beliefs of his
time, have kept Messiah vital and
meaningful for nearly 300 years. But because we live in a far more secular age
than Handel’s, and one with a far more diverse set of religious and spiritual
beliefs, Danielpour’s oratorio, with its strong focus on the human side of the
New Testament narrative, fits our time period just as snugly and securely as
Handel’s Messiah fit his.
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