Above: Renée Jeanne Faconetti (1891 - 1946), also known as Maria Falconetti, in Carl Dreyer's 1928 silent film The Passion of Joan of Arc.
~ Author: Oberon
Friday November 1st, 2024 - The New York Choral Society presenting Voices of Light, a work by New York native Richard Einhorn for orchestra, soloists, and chorus. The oratorio was paired with a showing of Carl Theodor Dreyer's 1928 silent film The Passion of Joan of Arc, which depicts the trial and execution of the hapless Maid of Orléans. Renée Jeanne (aka Maria) Falconetti (briefly a member of the Comédie-Française) gives a fascinating and courageous performance as the heroine.
Mr. Einhorn's Voices of Light was inspired by the Joan of Arc film. The piece uses a libretto based on excerpts from the ancient writings of the Medieval mystics, and further includes texts taken directly from accounts of Joan of Arc’s trial: words of her accusers and her own responses.
This score evokes the polyphonic music of Joan of Arc's time and was gorgeously played tonight by The Mannes Orchestra, joined by the Parthenia Viol Consort and The Polyphonists, a vocal quartet made up of Amy Broadbent (soprano), Sylvia Leith (mezzo-soprano), Matthew Hill (tenor), and Edmund Milly (bass-baritone). Marshaling the stage-filling forces was Maestro David Hayes.
I hardly know where to begin in describing the power of this evening's presentation; at first it seemed that the overwhelming impression of Mlle. Falconetti's portrayal - often in poignant or harrowing close-up - would consume all of our attention, which was riveted on the large screen that hovered over the onstage chorus and orchestra. But the Einhorn score is so full of marvels, and was so finely executed, that the evening became a memorable fusion of the audible and the visual.
The story pits the deranged but essentially innocent young maiden against the terrifying power of the Catholic Church; while 'tastefully' conceived to depict only hazy visions of the horrors that Joan endured both mentally and physically, the film clearly showed the sadistic tendencies of Catholicism in those days in a very negative light. The director assembled some of the ugliest actors he could find to portray the judges and jailers who menaced Joan relentlessly, delighting in tricking her into saying things that would lead to her guaranteed punishment of death by fire. These creepy men would chuckle or grin maliciously to one another as their web of pain and cruelty tightened.
Mlle. Falconetti's portrayal goes beyond theatricality; she seems to be living Joan's story, her facial expressions veering from the ecstasy of her pure faith to the excruciating pain she suffered. Throughout much of the film, tears flow freely down Mlle. Falconetti's face; there were stories that she never recovered from the experience. Read about the actress here.
As a counter-balance to this dark, warped tale, Mr. Einhorn's music is simply luminous. All of the participating musicians seemed keenly in touch with the spiritual elements that run thru the score. A series of fifteen movements - like chapters in a book - unfolds with a very natural flow.
In doing a bit of research, I was moved by this story from the composer's development of the score: "Richard Einhorn visited the church where Joan prayed, which is still standing, located near her home. He took along a recorder and recorded the sound of the church bells. These bells are relevant to her story as Joan said the bells triggered the voices from the angels. The bells that can be heard in the original recording are these very bells from her church...the way they would have sounded to her." The sound of these bells in the course of this evening's performance touched me deeply.
The Einhorn score sounds at once ancient and contemporary. Passage after passage summoned images in my mind, not always of the Medieval period but of my own spiritual conflicts growing up in a religious household whilst feeling that much of the belief patterns made no sense at all; curiously, it is the hymns that have left a lasting impression on me to this day. The link between music and spirituality is a strong one.
Einhorn's often haunting orchestration, the glow of the choral harmonies, the evocative sounds of the Viol Consort, the heartfelt clarity of concert-master Peyton Cook's solo playing, and the lovely voices of the Polyphonists in their solo passages: all these combined to keep me under a spell of timeless beauty.
After the horrifying scene of the execution (my companion being particularly disturbed by depictions of violence), I was jolted back to reality when the film showed scenes of a riot by the locals in response to Joan's execution: "You have killed a Child of God!", one peasant cries out.
Did such a riot take place? I cannot find any evidence of it in an internet search. It seems likely that any rioters would have met at same fate as Joan; such was the church's knack for terrorizing people into submission.
In the years following her death, Joan's trial and execution were reviewed by various ecclesiastical authorities. In 1456, a posthumous trial declared her innocent, and her conviction was overturned. This led to a re-evaluation of her legacy and martyrdom.
Joan was canonized as a saint of the Roman Catholic Church on May 16th, 1920, by Pope Benedict XV in his bull Divina disponente.
Above: composer Richard Einhorn
Tonight, the composer was present, and he was rightly hailed during the standing ovation - from the sold-out house - that erupted at the end of this engrossing performance.
Photos from the performance by Alan Barnett; click on each image to enlarge:
Members of The New York Choral Society
The Polyphonists' mezzo-soprano Sylvia Leith and soprano Amy Broadbent
The Polyphonists' tenor Matthew Hill and bass Edmund Milley
Maestro Hayes during the final ovation
Performance photos by Allen Barnett, courtesy of Kimberly Giannelli/The PR Social
~ Oberon