Morten Lauridsen / Jake Runestadt: Lux Aeterna; Earth Symphony
BR Klassik

On this splendid recording by the Bavarian Radio Chorus, Munich Radio Orchestra, and conductor Joseph R. Olefirowicz, choral-symphonic works by American composers born forty years apart provide a fascinating study in comparison and contrast. On the one hand, we have the sage Morten Lauridsen, born in 1943 to Danish immigrants and who grew up in Portland, Oregon, on the other the young upstart Jake Runestad, born in 1986 in Rockford, Illinois. The sixty-four-minute release juxtaposes the former's majestic Lux Aeterna (1997) and the latter's epic Earth Symphony (2021), both works distinguished and well-deserving of attention. Still, as strong as both are, the edge goes slightly to Lauridsen for the profundity and maturity of his creation.

He could have been represented on the release by O magnum mysterium (1994), which has become one of the more popular contemporary choral works, but instead it's the five-movement Lux Aeterna, composed three years later during his 1994-2001 tenure as composer-in-residence with the Los Angeles Master Chorale (and premiered by that professional choir). A non-liturgical requiem, the five-movement work eschews grandiosity for tranquility but is all the more powerful for doing so. Apparently, as he was setting the work's texts to music, his mother was dying, and truth be told his poignant work often seems to embody the peace and calm we associate with leave-taking. Abundant in luminous choral textures, the effect of the music is consoling as it progresses through five parts.

Olefirowicz coaxes a magnificent performance from the choir and orchestra and sustains it for the full half-hour. An eloquent spiritual tone is established with hushed entrances by both orchestra and choir in “Introitus. Requiem aeternam.” Horns, woodwinds, and strings create an harmonious ground for the choir's voices to both swell and whisper over before the work moves without pause into its “In te, Domine, speravi” movement and its seamless alternation between unison and counterpoint vocal parts. A serene a cappella movement follows, “O nata lux” particularly enrapturing when the singers intone unaccompanied. The orchestra returns to glorious effect for the opulent canticle “Veni, Sancte Spiritus” until “Agnus Dei – Lux aeterna” concludes the work with material that grows ever more transcendent as it advances towards its heavenly resolution.

The performance of Earth Symphony by the Bavarian Radio Chorus and Munich Radio Orchestra isn't the first time the work has appeared on record; it was preceded by a terrific 2024 version by True Concord Voices & Orchestra (A Dream So Bright: Choral Music of Jake Runestad, Reference Recordings). The one by Olefirowicz and his charges more than holds its own, however, and, as mentioned, makes for an excellent if tonally contrasting companion to Lux Aeterna. Since studying at the Peabody Conservatory of Johns Hopkins University from 2009 to 2011, Runestad's star has rapidly risen, and he's received commissions from many companies and ensembles. His debut album, The Hope of Loving, was nominated for a Grammy, as was A Dream So Bright for Best Choral Performance in 2025.

A collaboration between the composer and librettist Todd Boss, Earth Symphony is striking for, among other things, its concept, with Mother Earth herself given a voice. Movement titles alone clarify the stages the planet advances through, from formation on through development, devastation, and eventually recovery. Optimism, resilience, and hope win out over destruction and despair as humanity confronts its abusive treatment of the earth and takes steps to become environmentally responsible and right its considerable wrongs.

After “Evolution” inaugurates the work dramatically with agitated orchestral gestures, the choir enters to announce humanity's arrival, the music blossoming in concert with its emergence. The fall comes quickly thereafter, however, with the mythological winged figure Icarus cited as emblematic of humanity's hubris and overreach. His rise is musically conveyed in “Ambition (Streben)” but so too is his cataclysmic fall, his descent symbolic of earth's. Death, slaughter, and rage permeate the turbulent “Destruction (Zerstörung),” the planet asking in light of the chaos, “Briefest of species, what have you done?” Post-apocalyptic quiet sets in with “Lament (Klage),” the earth despairing of ever again dreaming “a dream so bright” after such ruination. Hope for the earth's phoenix-like rise does, however, come with the shimmer and splendour of “Recovery (Genesung)” to conclude the work optimistically.

July 2025