Adding to his consistently brilliant portfolio at the San Francisco Opera,
Donald Runnicles crossed Grove Street tonight to Davies Hall, and conducted
a landmark performance there with the "rival" San Francisco Symphony.  Only
Michael Tilson Thomas at his best has gotten this kind of "big, beautiful"
sound out of the orchestra in recent years.

The occasion was the San Francisco *premiere* of Elgar's "The Dream of
Gerontius," an amazing delay of exactly one century for not only a great
work of music, but for the arrival of Cardinal Newman's words to this
Catholic city.  (OK, so we are also Shinto, etc.)

The death and passage through Purgatory of Gerontius (an "old man" form
of Everyman) in Elgar's setting is a 90-minute orgy of "extreme music,"
rivaling the work that set the standard for the genre:  Schoenberg's
"Gurrelieder."

The two works share not only the sound and feel of unbridled romantic
excess (that *works* nevertheless), they are both from the year 1900 -- the
Elgar premiere conducted by Hans Richter, no less, the man on the podium
for Bayreuth's first "Ring," just a quarter century before.  (What an
operatic double-header these two works would make!)

"Gerontius" is a gorgeous work, dramatic, melodic, gripping, moving, every
bit as "spiritual" as it was meant to be.  Runnicles conducted it in one
flawless arch, with memorable high points (the Vision of God, the plea by
the Angel of the Agony, an explosion that shook the "earthquake-proof"
hall, the whispering supplication of the finale), but not engaging-
disengaging...  it was all of one piece, with every section of the
orchestra playing in top form.

Vance George's Symphony Chorus has done better than tonight, but even so
it blended well with the orchestra that never came off that continuous
"high point." The three soloists were fine:  Keith Lewis, who flew in from
New Zealand to replace Thomas Moser, hit a few small wobbles and he is not
particulary powerful, but his projection, the color and right placement of
his voice were exactly right in the title role.  Jennifer Larmore, as the
Angel, swallowed about as much of the voice as she let out, but again the
quality of the voice suited the role.  Bass Eric Halfvarson (who has done
wonders with SFO) thundered as the Angel of the Agony, uncharacteristically
neglecting nuances and warmth that are obviously in his role.

What mattered was the music and the orchestra.  Musicologist John Abbott,
who has participated in a number of different "Gerontius" productions in
his native England, was impressed with tonight's performance:

   Why did Elgar pour some of his greatest music into the form of an
   English oratorio? Even in 1900 the religious oratorio was old fashioned,
   especially when compared with works composed in mainland Europe at
   around the same time.  James Hamilton Paterson, in his novel Gerontius,
   described the typical oratorio of the time as "a potpourri of biblical
   texts for the leather lungs of massed Yorks spinsters."

   The Dream of Gerontius is different.  Despite all the fuss in the
   early days over its overtly catholic text, Elgar appears to have been
   uninterested in the religious aspects of Cardinal Newman's poem, but
   fascinated by its dramatic possibilities.  Those were fully realized
   in tonight's performance by the San Francisco Chorus and Orchestra,
   conducted by Donald Runnicles.

   Lingering over the ten minute orchestral prelude, which sets out the
   major themes of the work ahead, Runnicles carefully shaped the music's
   constant flow of melody in Part One, from the resigned acceptance of
   Gerontius ( "Jesu Maria, I am near to death"), through a rallying of
   spirit achieved by means of the prayers of his friends, sung by the
   chorus.  But as his rousing Sanctus concludes, the orchestra signifies
   a rising terror as Gerontius faces the moment of death itself.  A
   silence follows his finals words ("Into thy hands O Lord, into thy
   hands") before the priest and chorus send the soul triumphant on its
   way to heaven ("Go forth").

   Part two similarly begins with stillness, portrayed through lovely,
   near-static orchestral writing, but the narrative pace picks up speed
   quickly as the angel propels the soul of Gerontius towards the presence
   of God for judgment, passing within sight and sound of an assemblage
   of demons on the way.  Gerontius can still hear the voices of his
   friends gathering around his deathbed.  God's glance fall upon him
   to a shattering forte of full choir and orchestra, and the work winds
   its way down to a conclusion as Gerontius sings "Take me away, and
   in the lowest deep there let me be."

   In his novel (which Runnicles read as part of his preparation for
   this performance) Hamilton Patterson has his partly fictional Elgar
   identify the single passage in the poem which inspired him to set
   it.  "I cannot of that music rightly say/Whether I hear or touch or
   taste the tones." Elgar was attempting to dramatize his own perception
   of music, and in doing so transformed the staidness of the English
   oratorio his best chance of seeing the music widely performed into
   something entirely new.

Janos Gereben/SF
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