Prophets of doom abound in Amsterdam. However, British composer and conductor James Wood (1953) goes a step further. His oratorio Apokalypsis, based on John’s Revelation, premiered last week at the Amsterdam Muziekgebouw.
When seven soprano saxophones blast the tattoo signal in unison from the balconies of the Muziekgebouw, everyone is immediately alert. Not all visitors in the well-filled Great Hall know what to expect. In the row in front of me, people read the program booklet with interest; behind me, just before curtain-up, I heard someone say, ‘I have no idea what we’re about to hear, but Collegium Vocale Gent is always good! The Flemish vocalists have been guests at the Muziekgebouw so often that a British newspaper recently mistook them for an Amsterdam choir.
The 16 singers form a semicircle on stage around the seemingly indefatigable conductor and composer who has already completed a day of rehearsals and interviews. After the introductory trumpet call, voiced by the saxophones, the choir sings in Latin, ‘Et vidi septem angelos stantes in conspectu Dei: et datae sunt illis septem tubae.’ (Then I saw the seven angels who stand before God, and they were given seven trumpets).
The timeless-sounding voices reach the audience through carefully positioned speakers in the auditorium. The premiere of Apokalypsis took place two days earlier in St. Bavo Cathedral in Ghent. We miss that church ambiance with its accompanying natural acoustics in this modern concert hall.
The seven movements that make up Wood’s oratorio blend seamlessly: ‘Fire,’ ‘Eruption,’ ‘Poison,’ ‘Eclipse,’ ‘Heat,’ ‘Jihad’ and ‘Deception’. That each part ends with an instrumental interlude gives the whole thing structure.
In composing, Wood was guided by the texts announcing all kinds of disasters. The consequence is that the discomfort is sometimes great. The soprano saxophones have given way to a wider palette of timbres, from alto, tenor, baritone sax to an imposing tubax. However, they are not intended to make the recipients of the message sit back comfortably in their seats. Trumpet chimes are not ear-pleasing music but are used primarily as warning signals. The sound is piercing, at times terrifying. The contribution of British organist Darius Battiwalla heightens the ominous character of the first movements of this oratorio.
In the Apocalypsis, the composer makes use of quarter tones that were already prevalent in ancient times, but which give this work a contemporary character. In his study Tapping the Source, published last year, Wood shows that modern composers are deeply rooted in the musical history of the past 3,000 years. Just as Wood combines old and new music, he connects John’s texts to current events.
The choir’s soloists don’t just sing, they take turns reciting blogs, speeches, eyewitness accounts and poems about volcanic eruptions, solar and lunar eclipses, wars, 9/11 and the ubiquitous climate catastrophe. Pronouncing the lyrics needs precision, not only because it must be done in the civilized English of which Wood himself is the embodiment, but mostly because the words must fall into the music in the right place.
Just before trumpet blast closes the second part, the Belgian wind band Bl!ndman sets up on the high stand behind the stage. Gradually some harmonic resignation and lyricism slides into the music, the saxophones warm up, the organ sounds a little friendlier and the vocals become a little less shrill. Like John, James Wood announces solar eclipses that have yet to take place in the future (which runs through 2025).
Between parts four and five, the lights go out. For a minute it remains silent and dark. The tension in the room is palpable. Wood’s commitment to the climate issue is evident moments later from the quoted words of a Marshall Islands resident explaining that her home area will have disappeared below sea level not too long from now.
After the release of the imprisoned angels, humanity really gets it. With care, Wood selected words from well-known wolves in sheep’s clothing. On first hearing, the speeches of Benjamin Netanyahu, Robert Mugabe, Donald Trump, Kim Jong-un, Ferdinand Marcos and Napoleon sound warm and unifying. However, the context provided in the program booklet reveals the true nature of the thought processes of these errant teachers.
As the final orator, the Reich Chancellor of Nazi Germany Joseph Goebbels is given the stage: ‘This people is noble, brave, generous, willing and full of devotion under the care of a strong hand, and it may rightly believe that it is spotless and pure and that it has the blessing of God.’
John unmasks world leaders speaking in demagogic sentences: ‘I took the little scroll from his hand and ate it, and it tasted sweet as honey in my mouth. But after I had swallowed it, it turned sour in my stomach.’ Then John is instructed to prophesy again, and the seven saxophonists of Bl!ndman work toward an expectant final chord.
After the rehearsal, the composer was ready to answer questions raised by his oratorio. He completed his work in 2019, but because of Covid, the premiere had to be postponed. ‘My piece was meant to be a wake-up call, but by now you can see that John’s prophecies are more urgent than ever.’
Wood emphasized that he did not intend his oratorio to be a musical dystopia. ‘For many people, the Apocalypse is synonymous with the end of time and the downfall of the world. However, the title of the Bible book is Revelation. The prophecy in chapter 22 culminates in the return of Christ. It reminds me of the sinking of the Titanic. As the ship disappeared into the waves, the orchestra played ‘Nearer My God to Thee.’ That’s a way to go!’
James Wood: Apokalypse
Collegium Vocale Gent, BL!NDMAN saxophone septet, Darius Battiwalla organ, James Wood conductor.
Muziekgebouw, Amsterdam, Thursday 28 september