When last heard in Pittsburgh, the famously gloomy Christopher Rouse reversed his field and showered patrons with the manic joy of "Rapture." The surging, ebullient work impressed critics and patrons here and at Carnegie Hall, when the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra took it there in 2002.
This season, the PSO has honored the Baltimore native by naming him its 2004 composer of the year. This means we will get to hear a wider emotional spectrum from one of America's leading composers, best known for his "death works," pieces inspired by the passing of friends and family. The first offering of the season, his orchestral work, "Phaethon," has death in it, from the Greek legend to a bizarre connection to a recent national tragedy.
The eight-minute piece is a barn-burner, but it's programmatic, too. In spectacular fashion, the piece depicts the Greek legend of Phaethon, son of the sun god Helios.
In order to show he had divinity in his blood, this callow young man prevailed upon Helios to let him drive the chariot of the sun. But Phaethon couldn't control the magnificent steeds. After scorching a wide swath on Earth, the horses galloped wildly and dangerously toward Olympus. Fearing damage to heaven, Zeus hurled a deadly thunderbolt at Phaethon, casting him from the sky.
What's amazing is that Rouse wrote this piece in 1986, the year of another famous tragedy in the sky, the explosion of the space shuttle Challenger. In fact, he was writing "Phaethon" when the accident occurred.
"I had that morning decided to get through the measure where the thunderbolt hits the chariot, measure 443," Rouse says. "I scored that measure, and I felt compelled to turn on the TV." The first thing he saw was the initial report of the shuttle explosion -- Rouse had been penning the thunderbolt measure at the same time Challenger was knocked out of the sky. "I was struck by the coincidence there, and that is why I dedicated the piece to the Challenger," he says.
"Phaethon" is a complex work, saturated with virtuosic lines.
"Phaethon is a devilishly hard piece," says Rouse. "It was meant to be a miniature concerto for orchestra; everyone gets his or her moment."
One can hear the mighty horses beginning to race out of control about midway through "Phaethon" in the syncopated rhythms of the blaring trombones. The thunderbolt strike with hammer, bass drum and cymbal is unmistakable, occurring about a minute from the work's end, followed by falling figures and chaos in the strings.
The overriding impression of "Phaethon" is of unbounded energy. It "builds like 'Bolero,' " says Rouse. "It adds more and more instruments and gets louder, building to an orgiastic end. It is kind of a 'Short Ride in a Fast Machine' but much scarier than John's." (The PSO actually performs that John Adams work in May.)
At times it feels as if Rouse himself has lost the reins of this potent work. But it is intended illusion; in fact, he holds the line quite firmly. Hopefully the PSO will do the same this weekend and give a good account of this fascinating ride.