Dima Slobodeniouk's New York Philharmonic programme for this week’s subscription concerts ticked plenty of boxes: a commemorative performance of Ligeti’s Atmosphères, marking the composer’s centennial; the resuscitation of a practically unknown piece by an American minority composer; and, to bring the public in, a perennial favorite, Holst’s The Planets. Nevertheless, the performance was more than the sum of its parts.
Completed in 1951, Julia Perry’s Stabat Mater was her first major work, setting the stage for her brief career. Undeservedly forgotten, her ten-stanza composition for contralto and strings was finally performed by the New York Philharmonic for the first time. It was a very fine rendition, Slobodeniouk deftly highlighting the intricacies of Perry’s writing that embraces dissonances and the ambiguous sound of quartal harmonies, but remains firmly anchored in tonality, seamlessly alternating between lyricism and drama. At points, reminiscences of Barber and Lou Harrison made me fantasise about how this music could have been used by Martha Graham to support her singular choreography.
Perry demonstrated a distinct aptitude writing for the voice. Mezzo J’Nai Bridges, making her Philharmonic debut, portrayed the three characters evoked – Jesus, Mary and a spectator – with great insight in the Latin text. With her wide range, intensity and an ability to evoke a multitude of colours, Bridges characterised the spectator’s evolution particularly well, from initial passivity to a profound desire to share the mother’s terrible burden. Perry never realised her full potential as a composer due to health issues and to the almost total lack of interest in the United States at the time for compositions by women of colour. Her rich legacy includes many works worth exploring, especially with her centennial approaching in 2024.
Apropos anniversaries, it was wonderful to observe the Philharmonic continuing to explore Ligeti’s unique universe, with a mesmerising performance of Atmosphères, a work the orchestra has not played in a quarter century. The audience packing the Wu Tsai Theater seemed to be totally captivated by Ligeti’s idiom marked by its altered sense of time and its frequent use of clusters of closely spaced pitches. Slobodeniouk beautifully shaped the contours of the eerie sonic tapestry, showcasing its continuous transformation. Individual lines shifted in and out focus, with resulting dissonances neither too overt nor indiscernible. In the new hall, fading sounds resonated with utmost clarity.