The Philadelphia Orchestra presents ‘Music of Faith’

A first-generation American born to Ukrainian Jewish parents, Bernstein (1918-1990) infused his symphonies with spirituality, often drawing from the Hebrew Bible for inspiration and texts to set. No work in his canon more overtly considers his identity than Kaddish, which the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra premiered in 1963, with the composer himself on the podium.

No more navel-gazing

Bernstein punctuates the three-movement symphony with a spoken lamentation, in which a narrator implores an unseen “Father” to explain the suffering of humankind. The assassination of President John F. Kennedy influenced the forceful anger of Bernstein’s text, but the resonance feels unquestionably personal. Father refers to God, who forged the painful world in his own image, and to Samuel Bernstein, who disapproved of his son’s lifelong commitment to music.

This lens has often caused me to view Symphony No. 3, perhaps unfairly, as a work of navel-gazing vanity — a fact only reinforced by the usual casting of stodgy middle-aged men as the narrator. Conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin and the Philadelphians smartly avoid that trap by tapping Charlotte Blake Alston, a master storyteller steeped in the African oral tradition, as the reciter. Without the specter of an authorial stand-in, the text gains fresh meaning and seems appropriately universal.

Alston’s interactions with Father turn alternately gentle, accusatory, understanding, and impassioned. She doesn’t hide the bitterness in the speaker’s disgust at a world with “every immortal cliché intact,” but she allows for the possibility of a more harmonious future in the symphony’s final promise to do better and be more understanding. With mild amplification, Alston’s dulcet voice reassures the audience that the uncertainty of the present can be altered in the future, a truly evergreen sentiment.

Soprano Nadine Sierra beautifully sang the accompanying Latin text, becalmed harmonic lullabies that contrast the spiky spoken words. The joint forces of the Philadelphia Symphonic Choir (prepared by Joe Miller) and the Philadelphia Boys Choir (under the direction of Jeffrey R. Smith) became the mass voice filling in the spaces left by Father’s silence. Nézet-Séguin drew out an orchestral reading that lingered in dissonance, matching the narration’s dramatic tension — which, like religion and life, doesn’t always neatly resolve itself.

Refugees from grand opera

Sierra returned as the soprano soloist in Stabat Mater, part of a likely unbetterable quartet including mezzo-soprano Elizabeth DeShong, tenor John Osborn, and bass Krzysztof Bączyk. Joined again by the adult chorus, they presented a performance of the semi-sacred work that threatened to convert even a hardened atheist.

Stabat Mater considers the Virgin Mother’s grief after Jesus’s crucifixion, a theme that moved the devoutly Catholic Rossini. His text comprises a series of ancient Latin verses, but everything beyond that owes a debt to the musical language the composer, who lived from 1792 to 1868, helped create. The integrated arias and duets sound like refugees from grand opera, and the richly textured orchestral writing shares much in common with symphonic composing of the time.

Fervent flair

Nézet-Séguin, who moonlights as music director of the Met, leaned fully into the music’s fervent flair, with hard-driving rhythms and explosive climaxes. The singers matched this intensity. Sierra and DeShong blended beautifully on “Quis est homo qui non fleret” (Is there one who would not weep?). DeShong’s rich, rounded tone resembles Marilyn Horne at the peak of her powers.

At age 46, Osborn displayed a technique — and a high D-flat — that tenors half his age would envy. Bączyk, who made his U.S. debut with these performances, brought robustness and rock-solid low notes to his part. His is a name to watch.

Beyond excellent singing and playing, Music of Faith is a triumph of thoughtful programming, elevating both works by putting them in conversation. Sadly, the season schedule included only two performances, likely due to Nézet-Séguin’s commitments at the Met and its proximity to the Orchestra’s annual gala. I wish more people had the chance to experience it, but it gives me hope for similarly introspective evenings in the future.