NEW YORK — On May 16, the New York Philharmonic offered a program of two romances born in the early 20th century: a contemporary song cycle based on the correspondence between two iconic American artists and a 1912 ballet score highlighting nymphs and shepherds from classical mythology. The repertoire provided the opportunity to luxuriate in work by two of America’s finest opera veterans, supported and surrounded by New York’s flagship orchestra in full fettle.
Kevin Puts’ The Brightness of Light was born from an Eastman School of Music 2015 commission for soprano Renée Fleming for a performance by the conservatory’s orchestra at Lincoln Center. Eastman alumnus Puts came across a quote from Georgia O’Keeffe — “My first memory is of the brightness of light, of light all around” — and decided to set letters from the painter’s voluminous correspondence with Alfred Stieglitz, photographer, gallery owner, and O’Keeffe’s life partner. After the premiere of the cycle of eight songs for soprano, Fleming suggested expanding the work into a musical dialogue with Stieglitz with a part for a male singer. The expanded cycle premiered in 2019 at Tanglewood, co-commissioned by seven performing institutions, with Fleming and baritone Rod Gilfry in the roles they sang with the Philharmonic.
The Brightness of Light spans the 30 years from Stieglitz’s first discovering O’Keeffe’s drawings in 1915 through their growing intimacy and marriage, gradual distancing as O’Keeffe discovers both her husband’s infidelity and the allure of the Southwest, and Stieglitz’s death in 1946. Even after she began to spend more time in New Mexico, their bond remained strong, with longing focused by distance in the couple’s later years. The 12 songs and two orchestral interludes trace the emotional arc of that relationship.
Puts, named Musical America’s 2024 Composer of the Year, has a deep catalog of mostly instrumental works reaching back to the 1990s but has written relatively little music for the voice. Apart from a handful of choral pieces and solo songs, his vocal writing comprises only four operas. Silent Night (2011) won a Pulitzer Prize, and The Hours (2022) played at the Metropolitan Opera during two consecutive seasons. From this evidence, he has an affinity for literature and its subtleties and an instinctive sense of how to compress and set a text. Several of the original letters projected in a slide show above the stage during The Brightness of Light revealed how original words were fashioned into text designed to be taken in by the ear.
The work begins with a gentle and recurring xylophone ostinato, suggesting the promise of the developing relationship as Miss O’Keeffe and Mr. Stieglitz become acquainted on paper. Formal titles fall away as feelings grow, and instrumental voices provide commentary. Projections of O’Keeffe’s rapturous landscapes and brightly colored abstractions are accompanied by orchestral passages of corresponding intensity. As Stieglitz’s brooding urban photography contrast with the immediacy of his portraits of O’Keeffe, the music is more subdued and tightly coiled.
Helping to pull together words and music and bring the characters to life were Wendall K. Harrington’s vivid projections, drawn from both artists’ visual work as well as images of O’Keeffe and Stieglitz themselves and images of some of the letters. In tightly edited excerpts drawn from over 5,000 letters, each artist expresses feelings in language that highlights their contrasting personalities. In an early duet, O’Keeffe conveys her desire in terms both concrete and physical, while Stieglitz falls back on metaphysical imagery. Despite their primary focus on the visual, the two artists are able to capture and share their emotions in the entirely different medium of words, with a penetrating depth almost unimaginable in this age of instant digital communication.
For both singers, Puts wrote sweeping lines that sit gratefully in the voice and make the text easy to understand. Orchestral accompaniment enhances the words but never overpowers the singers. Fleming may have retired from the opera stage, but her voice remains luminous, her diction clear, and her presence commanding. Channeling Stieglitz, Gilfrey provided alpha male bluster as well as lyrical passages conveying his need for Georgia. Together, the singers embodied the artistic power couple devoted both to their art and to each other. With its full orchestra, commanding singers, and vivid projections, The Brightness of Light felt more operatic than many fully staged modern operas.
The complete score of Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloé (1912) filled the second half and provided a showcase for the orchestra, particularly appropriate on an evening honoring Philharmonic retirees and long-serving current members. Rich in solo opportunities throughout the sections, the work was Ravel’s only score for the legendary Ballets Russes, which from 1909 to 1929 was Europe’s preeminent ballet company. The hour-long ballet, to Ravel’s longest score, is set on the island of Lesbos where the goatherd Daphnis pursues the shepherdess Chloé among nymphs and shepherds. After Daphné is abducted by pirates and rescued, thanks to the intervention of Pan, all dance a frenzied bacchanale.
Ravel’s lush impressionistic language was a treat for the ear, but after the disciplined and visually interesting 45 minutes of Puts’ song cycle, the skittishly episodic ballet score felt unfocused and long, especially without the ballet to guide the listener. One of the Daphnis et Chloé suites might have landed better, even though the full score filled the timing needs. Still, there were many sensual delights to relish, notably the sinuous flute solos played by Robert Langevin.
In his Philharmonic debut, Brett Mitchell was a last-minute replacement for scheduled conductor Juanjo Mena. Mitchell currently serves as music director of the Pasadena Symphony and has appeared with major orchestras across the U.S. and globally. Even on short notice, Mitchell was well prepared for the Puts cycle, having conducted the work in 2019 as music director of the Colorado Symphony, one of the work’s co-commissioners. The occasional earsplitting fortissimo (and a runaway wind machine) revealed Mitchell’s lack of familiarity with the acoustics of David Geffen Hall, but the conductor paced both works nicely, with a good sense of where the Puts needed to breathe.
The Ravel’s wordless choral interjections were provided by 60 members of the New York Philharmonic Chorus, formed in 2022 for the renovated Geffen Hall inauguration. Impeccably prepared by chorus director Malcolm J. Merriweather, the singers sounded clean but a bit faint from their raised gallery behind the orchestra. Perhaps I am merely nostalgic for the Westminster Choir, always at least 100 strong, that long provided choral support for the Phil, before organizational problems at the university level put their survival in question.
