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Austin360 blogs > Austin Arts: Seeing Things > Archives > 2012 > January > 23 > Entry
Review: Conspirare’s ‘Whitacre & Lewis’
In January, when most of the city’s arts programs are waking up from a mid-winter’s nap, Conspirare is chomping at the bit, with fierce programs that take over entire weekends.
Last year, Craig Hella Johnson and company were racing out of the gate with a supremely ambitious mini festival of Renaissance and Baroque music, hours upon hours of material.This year the pace slowed only slightly. The choir’s weekend was booked with four concerts of Joby Talbot’s “Path of Miracles,” but they also managed to sneak in a single concert of U.S. premieres of work by American composers Eric Whitacre and Peter Scott Lewis.
Conspirare seem to have an affinity for Whitacre’s ecclesiastical music. Pensive, solemn, and generally very beautiful, Whitacre has a deserved following among choiristers. His music is at its best when tinged with a layer of darkness, as in “Five Hebrew Love Songs,” which pits the women’s bright, cheery tune against the men’s somber Greek-chorus.
Conspirare’s premiere performance of Whitacre’s “Alleluia” was a clear highlight. A spectral sustained note at the start folded into warm chords that were reluctant to resolve. Quite stunning.
The premiere of “Occuli Omnium,” a grace written for Sidney Sussex College at the University of Cambridge, was of a similar mind, though somehow not quite as sublime.
If Whitacre’s work is heavenly, Peter Scott Lewis’ is more Freudian and self-conscious.
His work “The Changing Light,” was based on the words of the esteemed Beat poet, San Francisco publisher, Lawrence Ferlinghetti.
The poetry came from Ferlinghetti’s more recent, more naturalistic work, evoking the sunlight of San Francisco, the moon and birds in the underbrush.
But, to borrow one of the poet’s own lines, the music accompaniment felt “anchorless upon the ocean.” No real melody, little in the way of discernible structure or polyphony, Lewis’ work was like a palate cleanser that lasted a whole meal. Fans of the written word among the audience might have preferred the choir mount a poetry reading.
In any case, the afternoon ended with Whitacre’s “Sleep,” a stiff but welcome contrast that sent us away in a lingering meditative state.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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