The larger-than-life Bernstein took as his starting point the liturgy of the Mass, a nod to Kennedy's distinction as the first Catholic president. But he was not about to restrict himself to writing music merely for the five passages traditionally treated by composers, the Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus and Agnus Dei. He envisioned something much more extensive, something closer to an actual service.
Interspersed with the liturgical texts are lyrics by Bernstein and Stephen Schwartz, as well as a few provocative lines offered by Paul Simon. In this way, Bernstein could explore all of his passionate feelings about religion, war, government, authority, individuality, community.
And Bernstein set out to do this not in one cohesive musical voice, but a whole prism of musical styles, including heavy and light classical, rock, folk, jazz, blues, Broadway - a sonic catholicity.
Although a few reviewers voiced praise, and audiences responded with exceptional fervor, most of the press was cool to hostile. Mass was branded as vulgar, confused, pretentious.
"Originally, it must have been difficult for some people to deal with," Alsop says. "They must have felt, 'Look at him, he's just trying to be so hip. He's too cool for words.' "
That striving for coolness is unmistakable in Mass, and it can come across as labored. But each diverse element in the score serves the big picture that Bernstein is after, an examination of what binds us together, what prompts and soothes crises of faith.
Clashes between tonality and dissonance provide a telling symbol of all this, as when a pre-recorded tape of a vocal quartet negotiating a cacophonous Kyrie is halted by the Celebrant inviting his congregation to "sing God a simple song." ("The music is never simple, even if it sounds simple," Alsop says.)
Many other conflicts erupt in Mass, musical and verbal. The congregation always seems to be in a volatile state, easily turning cynical or threatening. The Celebrant, an exceptionally demanding baritone role, eventually loses control of his flock.
"He's a good guy who means well," says Sykes, the Celebrant for the BSO. "He loves people. He loves, or likes, God, but he's more into being connected with his friends and his congregation. When they begin to turn on him and doubt their faith, he has no strength. It brings up his own fears and doubts."
