classicalive

Last night, the Bangkok Symphony Orchestra and music director Hikotaro Yazaki joined forces with the Thai Youth Choir and The Voices to present a solemn program in memory of the late HRH Princess Galyani Vadhana, a passionate patron of Western classical music in Thailand. The entire stage was dampened with carpeting, as were all of the entrance ramps in the auditorium, and the audience was dressed entirely in mourning attire. A large portrait of the Princess rested on stage right, there was no applause, and the orchestra played in the dark, with stand-lights only. 

Bach's Air from Suite No. 3 in D major, that famous and ceaselessly moving melody, opened the evening. Slowly, the children of the Thai Youth Choir entered from the back of the darkened auditorium carrying candles, placing them by the portrait of the the Princess before taking their places behind the orchestra. Pie Jesu from Andrew Lloyd Webber's Requiem followed, with sopranos Monique Klongtruadroke and Teeranai Na Nongkai covering solos. A slide-show with photos of the Princess active in her many humanitarian efforts and travels was then weaved in to the ceremony, accompanied by narrator and a simple, aching piece for solo cello and orchestra. The Bach/Gounod Ave Maria followed, keeping the audience emotional.

A new work by Narong Prangcharoen, "Tears of Dust", was next. Composed for the occasion, it reminded me a little of Ralph Vaughn Williams' "Fantasia on Greensleeves", with lush, modal string writing and rich solo sections, here mostly reserved for the cello. Is it not the instrument most capable of evoking melancholy? The program notes tell us that "At the loss of the Princess, even dust can cry with tears...This composition resonates Thais' prayers for HRH's eternal repose." Narong evokes this with his signature impressionistic incorporation of Thai sounds and the subtle eliding of different strains in contemporary classical composition. Compared to many of his other works, "Tears of Dust" was generally softer and more reflective, free of the rhythmic drive and outbursts that have drawn comparisons to Stravinsky. 

The centerpiece of the night was John Rutter's Requiem, which featured The Voices, an impressive Bangkok-based choir. Rutter's Requiem mixes a personal selection of texts from the Catholic liturgy and Book of Common Prayer, and is indebted most to Faure "in style and scale." The perfect conclusion to the evening's program, this was profoundly emotional and pensive music given a passionate performance. The second section, "Out of the Deep"--grounded in an almost bluesy, jazzy cello solo--struck me as particularly original and interesting in this setting, though much of the composition is transparent in its devices. The composer knows this though, and the end effect is satisfying. Mr. Rutter notes, "I suppose that some will find the sense of comfort and consolation in it facile, but it was what I meant at the time I wrote it." That is really all one can ask of a composer, to be genuine in the emotion they transfer to the page.

This was a night I don't think I'll ever forget. On many levels it was surreal: to partake in mourning on such a scale for this special, benevolent individual I only learned about 4 months ago, and for it to be largely set to profound and familiar Christian music in this Buddhist nation half-way around the world from my home...yet another experience here that has left me without words.