EUGENE - When he first appeared on the scene, Thomas Quasthoff astonished
audiences as a singer.  More recently, he made them cry as an artist,
communicating great music and deep feelings in a direct, personal manner.
But now he has gone beyond all that.

First, before attempting to place the Quasthoff of today in context, here's
an extremely short report on his concert Tuesday night, at the Oregon Bach
Festival.  This may be meaningful only to those familiar with his work:

He has never been better.  He has gone to a new level, another dimension.
Full stop, end of short report.  And yes, I realize it's hard to believe.

But it's true: Quasthoff at 42 is on the hero's path of adventure through
rites of passage, in a process defined by the late Joseph Campbell, heading
towards - perhaps already arriving at - transfiguration.

He is no longer "just a singer," not even if called, justifiably, a
great, unique one.  He has transformed into a kind of cultural icon, the
classical-music equivalent of Elvis, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones
put together.  He makes a difference in people's lives, with his artistry,
palpable joy in music and life, personal example of overcoming unimaginable
hardship and challenges with courage and seductive grace.  And, most
importantly for an artist, Quasthoff brings these elements into his work,
instead of allowing them to become fodder for tabloids.

All this may sound excessive or just plain silly, just as silly as those
uniform grins of enjoyment and love on 2,500 up-turned faces in Silva Hall,
deep silences exploding into ovation after each work.  This was no museum
or showcase or objects and bodies producing pleasing sounds, but rather a
living, breathing, growing event, a happening, an experience embracing
musicians and listeners.

In the world of "just-singing," there would have been separate entities:
Quasthoff singing from his special platform, Jeffrey Kahane conducting,
Kathleen Lenski acting as concertmaster, Allan Vogel playing his virtuoso
oboe in the Bach obbligato, all the orchestra doing the assigned tasks, the
audience listening and applauding at the right places.

That's not what happened.  Instead of separate entities and egos, it
all fused, singer, conductor, musicians, audience breathing together, a
community of music enveloped in a glow.  Nothing touchy-feely about this,
just a factual report.

At the head of the procession, Quasthoff, with Bach's heartbreaking ("I
wish to leave this body"), elevating, accepting, death/redemption-welcoming
cantata, "Ich habe genug," performed without a trace of sentimentality,
delivering faith beyond religion.  Between that great, soaring voice (in
a quiet but commanding mode) and the orchestra's velvet carpet underneath,
silences resounded, channeling peace and a friendly eternity.  Even if
Quasthoff has progressed beyond pulling at heartstrings, the lullaby of
"Schlummert ein, ihr matten Augen" left few dry eyes in the house.

Mozart arias for bass and orchestra followed an absolutely necessary
intermission after "Ich habe genug." Mastering the range from funny to
heroic, passionate to noble, enraged to playful, Quasthoff's delivery
represented the best of operatic and lieder traditions in "Alcandro, lo
confesso...," the riotious "Rivolgete a lui lo squadro," and the
ultra-romantic (for Mozart) "Per questa bella mano," with David
Williamson's tremendous double bass obbligato.

There was "Hai gia vinta la causa," recitative and aria from "Le Nozze di
Figaro" and the encore, a uniquely sung "In diesen heil'gen Hallen" from
Mozart's "Die Zauberflote." This was a Sarastro of warmth and kindness, not
the usual remote, towering figure of authority.  Clearly, this would be a
better world with leaders like Quasthoff's Sarastro...  or just Quasthoff.
Let's draft him for office.

After all that good stuff, here's a downer: Festival concerts are no
longer recorded and broadcast.  The problem is the usual "lack of funds
and no union cooperation," heard in every city in the US.  The result:
tonight's concert - and the rest of the festival - will live on only in
the fond memories of the audience.  That's not enough, not at all.  Why
not record concerts for archiving purposes, getting union permission
against a promise not to make commercial use of the material...  and save
these performances until reason prevails and arrangements are made? As of
now, it doesn't matter what may happen in the future, the present is
already lost.

Janos Gereben/SF
In Oregon, to July 8
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