i will lift up my voice to the lord

one of the jobs of great art is to make us uncomfortable.

uncomfortable in the sense that it causes internal conflict, makes us rethink how we look at everything, questions our very being. you're supposed to come out of the other side, challenged, maybe even experiencing a catharsis, in the sense of a resolution. and it's an unmistakable feeling. this past sunday, i attended the performance of Bernstein's MASS at the Kennedy Center with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra (the importance was not lost on me that the piece was written for the inauguration of that very hall) and let me tell you, i was uncomfortable. the work is not new to me but listening to the recording and seeing it live is like comparing apples to giraffes. the dramatic elements, i found, at times, spellbinding. and in the Celebrant's bel canto style mad scene, i felt the anguish to the point of fear. it was a feeling that i have not felt in quite some time. i left feeling differently about the piece (and myself), more so than i could have imagined.

now is the MASS a great work of art? that is not really for me to say. it is so underperformed and still, to this day, so controversial on so many levels that i don't know if it would ever have a chance to be considered as such. but i must thank the BSO and Maestra Alsop (and of course, Lenny, himself) for giving me something to think about. it has been a while.

post-script: i have not stopped listening to "A Simple Song" since. i think it is too beautiful. listen here
post-post-script: i just saw in my RSS reader that Charles Neidich is playing Quartet for the End of Time at Merkin Hall tomorrow. it's one of those moments that i miss NYC. as much time as i spent working with Neidich, i barely got to see him perform 20th century music.