As part of its “21st Century Classics” series, Naxos turns to the music of Georges Lentz, a 38-year-old native of Luxembourg who now resides in Australia. He has spent much of his career exploring the words of Psalm 29’s well-known first verse: “The heavens declare the glory of God,/The vault of heaven proclaims His handiwork…” Grouped together under the general title “Caeli enarrant…”, these works are articulations of Lentz’s passionately held beliefs, depicted in graphic visions of the cosmos. This disc offers four pieces from the “Caeli enarrant…” series, all written in the 1990s.
The introduction to 1991’s “Caeli enarrant…” IV, scored for string quartet and four cymbals, may carry “The Pleiades” as its subtitle, but the elongated repetition of a single F, sounded in sforzandos by each instrument in turn, brings to mind both the brilliance and ephemeral quality of shooting stars. That pictorial quality emerges again and again on this disc: it’s not programmatic music per se, but certainly the writing is evocative. The second movement, a scherzo, is by no means a gentle dance. Here, the tempos, along with dissonant chords, frequent use of scratchy sul ponticello and popping col legno bow work, and dramatically varied dynamics suggest a universe perpetuating itself in wild and perhaps impenetrable ways. That ferocity is echoed in the third movement, in which the deafening crash of cymbals gives way to manic strings that eventually settle into a hushed chorale. However, it is here that Lentz becomes increasingly glib: the strings surge into something of a Manichean battle, in which gleaming tonal chords are interspersed with harshly dissonant incursions. The final movement’s most striking feature is Lentz’s call for the string players to use their instruments percussively, and the resulting sound is like a sped-up timepiece, gradually fading into silence.
Though strictly serialist in its modality, 1990’s “Caeli enarrant…” III, a three-part work scored for 12 strings, three percussionists, and boy soprano, is emotionally emphatic–to the point that its dogmatic insistence overwhelms purely musical concerns. (Yes, Georges, we understand the meaning of clanging bells–no need to drive the point home by having them struck for a full minute at the end of the first movement!) 1997’s Birrung (the Australian Aboriginal word for “stars”) stands as part of a larger group of works called “Mysterium” (and also known as “Caeli enarrant…” VII). Here Lentz requires 11 string players to play harmonics much of the time, transforming their sound into something akin to the floating, atonal chords and ethereal textures of Messiaen’s works for organ. (Certainly, Lentz feels a spiritual kinship with the elder composer’s religious fascinations as well.)
Nguurraa, written between 2000 and 2001 for clarinet, violin, cello, piano, and percussion, also belongs to Mysterium. The piece references Australian Aboriginal culture, both in its dreamy, introspective nature and in style: the techniques Lentz demands of the clarinetist include breathy passages that recall (though don’t mimic) the overtones produced on an Aboriginal didgeridoo.
It’s a bit of a stretch to dub this music “classical”, but nonetheless kudos go to Naxos for making a young composer’s voice and his engaging ideas heard. The musicians, Australia’s Ensemble 24 led by Matthew Coorey, fuse incisive interpretations with crisp technique, and Lentz couldn’t ask for more sympathetic players. The sound is close up and sharply detailed.
