Osvaldo Golijov: Ayre
Against The Grain Records

Osvaldo Golijov composed the song cycle Ayre for Dawn Upshaw, who gave its world premiere in 2004 and recorded it a year later for Deutsche Grammophon. Yet while Lebanese-Canadian soprano Miriam Khalil isn't quite as well-known as her celebrated American counterpart, the former's performance might well be the more definitive. Khalil doesn't so much sing the Argentine-born composer's material as wholly inhabit it, and listening to this first recording from Against The Grain Records, an in-house recording label recently established by Toronto's Against the Grain Theatre (AtG), it's hard not to feel as if Ayre is a piece Khalil, a founding member of the chamber opera company, was born to sing. Golijov himself acknowledges as much in stating that though it was written with Upshaw in mind, “Miriam takes it to a whole new place.”

That Ayre touched Khalil so deeply when she first heard it is explained in part by her familiarity with some of its content, the traditional Arabic songs, “Wa Habibi” and “Aiini taqtiru,” having been a part of her Ottawa childhood after her family's emigration from Syria; they were both songs her parents taught her and ones she heard every year during Easter mass at Ottawa's Melkite Catholic Church. The fact that she has spoken Arabic since childhood also gives her delivery of the texts a fundamental authenticity.

A live performance recorded at the Ismaili Center in Toronto in 2016, Ayre fuses electronic and traditional elements into a mesmerizing eleven-part work drawn from Byzantine chant, Sephardic lullabies, Sardinian protest songs, and Arabic, Hebrew, and Christian texts. Though the piece as performed intoxicates at a purely sonic level, it also resonates thematically by conveying hope in its affirmation of shared humanity and in celebrating the artistic riches originating from multiple cultures. Such pluralism will be regarded as overly optimistic by some, but it at least allows us to entertain the idea that such a goal is attainable.

Like Khalil, Golijov's life has been enriched by different experiences: born in Argentina in 1960, he spent his youth in Jerusalem before eventually moving to Massachusetts in 1991, where he's currently the Loyola Professor of Music at the College of the Holy Cross. Echoes of his various experiences emerge during Ayre, with the clarinet playing sometimes referencing klezmer and the folk songs evoking Lebanon and Arabia; the incorporation of laptop-generated electronics also lends the material a contemporary dimension that contrasts markedly with the traditional elements. The structure of the work isn't haphazard; instead, a pilgrimage of sorts takes us along the Mediterranean coast, from southern Spain to Italy to Jerusalem. Though Golijov's credited as the composer of the work, it's worth noting that in a number of cases he's the arranger, not composer (for example, “Nani” is a traditional Sephardic lullaby arranged by him) and that two pieces were written by guitarist Gustavo Santaolalla.

Khalil's passionate engagement with the material is evident the moment her tremulous voice floats over a delicate foundation provided her by accordionist Alexander Sevastian in “Mañanita de San Juan Dawn” (Morning of St. John's Day). Other elements embroider the presentation, with the clarinet of Juan Gabriel Olivares, flute of Joanna Wu, and guitar of Elmer Ferrer adding considerably to the performance. It's with the second song, “Una madre comió asado” (A Mother Roasted her Child), however, that the spell cast by Khalil truly takes hold, her sorrowful delivery perfectly attuned to this lamentation and beautifully complemented by Kristan Toczko's harp and the strings of violist Carol Gimbel and cellist Raphael Weinroth-Browne.

Golijov's propensity for contrast emerges in the abrupt transition from that lullaby to “Tancas serradas a muru” (Walls are Encircling the Land), a boisterous hellraiser that sees Khalil's attack matched by her accompanists, with horn player Gabriel Radford and percussionist Dave Burns contributing strongly to the arrangement. On a representative piece such as “Wa Habibi” (My love), electronic treatments by Jeremy Flower mark the material with a contemporary residue. Offsetting the album's dynamic ensemble performances are Santaolalla's guitar-only instrumental “Luna” (Moon) and “Kun li-guitari wataran ayyuha al-maa'” (Be a String, Water, to my Guitar) in which a poem by Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish is spoken sans accompaniment.

As credibly as she handles the work's aggressive material, Khalil distinguishes herself most memorably when bringing “Nani” and the traditional Sephardic romance “Ariadna en su laberinto” (Ariadne in her Labyrinth) to emotionally expressive life. The fluidity, grace, and seeming ease with which she executes the undulating melodies are stunning, and without wishing to downplay the magnitude of Golijov's accomplishment, it's her performance that most recommends the recording.

January 2019