United States Bryars, Helgeson: The Crossing / Donald Nally (conductor). St. Peter’s Church, New York, 20.6.2025. (DS)
Gavin Bryars – The Last Days of Immanual Kant
Aaron Helgeson – The Book of Never
An ensemble that names itself The Crossing clearly has a mission. Even a single concert by this Philadelphia-based a cappella group reveals its purpose plainly and surely: to offer a signature blend of contemporary composition and a transcendent sensibility for choral polyphonic textures which together form an artistic timelessness. At a recent performance in the acoustically rich, geometrically-shaped sanctuary of St Peter’s Church in Midtown Manhattan, the singers – led by conductor Donald Nally – were nothing short of superb.
The fare of new music was rich in creative choice while accessible to both novice and seasoned listeners. Aaron Helgeson’s The Book of Never and Gavin Bryars’s The Last Days of Immanual Kant were not shy on dense material yet evoked intimate personal explorations of text well-matched to a medium-sized choral ensemble (24 artists sing in the group).
The Last Days of Immanual Kant pulls text from Thomas de Quincy’s nineteenth-century book of the same name. The Crossing performed select movements from the full piece which they had premiered in Philadelphia earlier in June. In juxtaposition to the reverence for this heavyweight philosopher of the Western canon who faced a dark transition to death, it also touchingly highlights the ‘everyman’ details of mortality – for example, Kant’s beckoning for coffee to revive himself or his visit to a friend’s garden for the final time.
The words emerged through a balanced texture of complex harmonies that were a testament to the masterful singers who remained in tightknit connection under Nally’s committed conducting. Gentle solos also emerged, as in the ‘Interlude: lament’ movement and its moments of lovely clarity. Throughout, long suspended lines of harmony crossed over into unexpected yet artful dissonances. Of particular interest were passages reminiscent of fugal forms, or ‘Amen’ cadence figures never quite emerging into the foreground. They symbolized a grasp of the once familiar, while the powerful rhythmic patterns carried the line.
The standout in the program was Aaron Helgeson’s The Book of Never. It is a poetic collage based upon the Novgorod Codex – a thousand-year-old book of psalms owned by a Kyiv priest and discovered in the year 2000. Helgeson also included words from Oscar Wilde, Pablo Neruda and others. The Book of Never reads as Helgeson’s own ‘book of psalms’, a kind of re-inspiration emerging from the idea of preservation.
Each movement carries a striking message, while the overall structure builds on the idea of self-questioning and a constant return to reflection upon belief. The second, fourth and seventh movements all have the same title (‘The Worlds’ a Town’) and hold a Greek-tragedy choral role, with a two-beat marching pattern that gave the work a distinct, mesmerizing momentum. The third movement, ‘Burns I’d Like to Forget…’, was the most stunning, with words in circular repetition creating beautiful musical patterns. Helgeson slowly stacks the phrases into ideas about self-expression while interweaving comments about the suffering laid upon the unfortunate in this world. In an adventurous and radiant build up, the singers shift in and out of moods so quickly that their feats of technical and expressive virtuosity were remarkable. And Helgeson leaves no note or rest unaccounted for in this polished composition.
The Book of Never ends with ‘Names of Things I Once Believed…’, with chant-like passages and major tonalities that create an open, hopeful lyricism. However, Helgeson effectively crafts a very human sense of anxiety: the phrases become choppy while some singers grip tones for unnervingly long periods. I liken this last movement to a purposely misshapen and intrepid cantata movement, unique in its sense of glorified insecurity. The final words mirror this sentiment: ‘I don’t want to love myself/but I will try and see…/O dear Lord /…now’.
Helgeson’s work requires the singers to hold complex chordal intervals from shifts between half steps to the broadest registers, which they executed with such precise intonation that sometimes a full spectrum of reverberations emerged. The effect? A divine aesthetic only possible to experience live in a resonant space.
The Crossing’s clarity of sound and commitment to exquisite interpretation garner well-deserved accolades, but the real proof is in a live concert. It leaves one in awe of their musicianship and the new thresholds of musical experience that they so easily cross.
Daniele Sahr