All These Lighted Things: Works by Elizabeth Ogonek, Prokofiev, Ravel. Antwerp Symphony Orchestra; Elim Chan, conductor. Alpha Classics ALPHA1038. Total time: 70:00
DIGITAL REVIEW — American composer Elizabeth Ogonek was the composer-in-residence with the Chicago Symphony when she wrote All These Lighted Things, which was premiered by the orchestra and Riccardo Muti in 2017. Now the work has been recorded for the first time, with Elim Chan conducting the Antwerp Symphony Orchestra, along with two well-known orchestral suites.
Subtitled “Three Short Dances for Orchestra,” All These Lighted Things takes its name from a line by philosopher and poet Thomas Merton expressing the relief one feels after the darkness of night, when the sunrise re-invigorates the world. Ogonek seems to suggest multiple reasons to celebrate as she progresses through a trio of contrasting movements totaling just under 15 minutes.
The first movement is marked “Exuberant, playful, bright.” It opens with chimes and other high-pitched instruments playing sprightly fragments with a Stravinskian sense of organized chaos. The use of dissonance comes across as non-threatening, more decorative than structural; there is an illusion of tonality, or rather tonalities. The Antwerp players, swooping wildly from highest to lowest register and meandering constantly through a kaleidoscope of textures and tempos, build a three-dimensional and believable sound world under Chan’s guidance.
The rain sticks creating a soft, distorted atmosphere establish the heart of the second movement, “Gently drifting, hazy.” A solo violin (first concertmaster Lisanne Soeterbroek) draws aching arcs over a rumbling bass. The meditative nature of this slow movement never becomes boring or turgid: Chan points to moments of contrast without disrupting the music’s gentle flow.
The final fast movement, “Buoyant,” is in a way the opposite of the first. Where the work opened with fairies and wood sprites, it closes with the happy galumph of larger spirits with heavier footfalls. But there are also nods to the first movement: sparkling, imaginative percussion, a fragmented dance-like energy, and a huge range of registers (although now the lower end is emphasized).
Ogonek, who is about to leave Cornell University for a faculty position at the Eastman School of Music, has completed only a handful of new works over the past few years. Most recently, Chan conducted the world premiere of Moondog with the San Franscisco Symphony in early 2023. This recording indicates that Chan and Ogonek make a fruitful team; we can hope for more collaborations.
The colorful All These Lighted Things is sandwiched between a duo of crowd-pleasers: Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet Suite No. 2 and Ravel’s Daphnes et Chloé Suite No. 2. Because the Ogonek has such an accessible sound and emotional palette, it nestles comfortably between the two familiar but powerful works. Of course, those other two, more than just alluding to dance, were originally written to accompany ballets.
Bone-rattling brass chords in Prokofiev’s first movement make an intense album-opener. The lickety-split runs in “The Young Juliet” are technically exact while still free enough to represent a teenaged girl. In “Friar Laurence” the woodwind counterpoint is witty, yet slightly wistful. Chan builds to a breakneck tempo in “Death of Tybalt” before the execution-like timpani beats warn of impending doom. “Romeo at Juliet’s Grave,” the suite’s final movement, drips with the sorrow of young lives wasted; first hornist Michaela Bužková makes a particularly effective contribution.
The Ravel suite follows perfectly from the Ogonek, picking up its magical elements. Ravel’s orchestration is denser, but there is a certain parallel character. Principal flute Aldo Baerten gives surprising richness to his shimmering solo lines in the opening movement, “Lever de jour” (Daybreak). Chan makes the entire orchestra breathe together as a single organism; the rhythm of my own breathing changed as I listened.
The second movement, “Pantomime,” shows off the exquisite control of the Antwerp violins. Their sound is almost a physical entity, something between air and liquid. Chan captures the touch of exoticism in the movement’s subtle syncopation. The brass section gets to shine in the opening of the fiery “Danse général” finale before the conductor has every voice swirling wildly. It’s a nail-biting interpretation.
Such fine playing proves Antwerp to be among the world’s top orchestras, whether Americans know it yet or not. Tom Peeters‘ careful production and mastering supports and enlivens every disparate element on display.
Chan has been the Antwerp Symphony’s principal conductor since 2019. Leader and ensemble are well matched, able to work together to create nuanced and exacting yet passionate performances in repertoire spanning centuries. But who knows how long that partnership will last? There are rumors that Chan is being considered to replace Gustavo Dudamel when he leaves the Los Angeles Philharmonic for New York in 2026.
