Osvaldo Golijov Spins the Classical World

As discussed recently here, the term "world music" is far from ideal. But "classical" might be even more vague -- a term coined for a very specific time (1730-1820) and place (Europe) but which has come to encompass everything from the music of 12th century abbess Hildegard von Bingen to the sound experiments of New York downtowners Bang on a Can All Stars. So it's a compound problem when the two intersect. Just ask Osvaldo Golijov. You'll almost certainly find his music filed under "classical," but check out how he talks about 'Oceana,' his setting to music verses by Chilean poet Pablo Neruda and the title piece of a new CD of three recent works.

"In 'Oceana' there is a clear influence of early Milton Nascimento," Golijov says, citing one of the top figures in Brazilian music of the past few decades. "He did these incredibly open-ended songs where the melodies are like very black Gregorian chant, along with great percussion, rain-forest percussion. So that combination of strong rhythms and chant, that's important. So that's one big influence. Also maybe a bit of Sufi music in the second-to-last movement, in combination with other things. To me, that movement was about the possibility to do a melody that reinvents itself like a Bach piece, grows and grows, but also achieves a certain ecstasy I associate with Sufi."

On top of it, the pieces are sung by Luciana Souza, a versatile talent as at home in classical settings (she's also featured on Golijov's arresting 'The Passion According to St. Mark'") as on Brazilian folk and pop (her upcoming album 'The New Bossa Nova' has her doing Brazilianized versions of songs by Joni Mitchell, Steely Dan, Brian Wilson, Sting and others). "She is a genius musician," says Golijov. "I always feel she has the DNA of Latin America in her voice."

Then there are the other two compositions on the CD. The first is the two-movement string quartet 'Tenebrae,' performed by the famed Kronos foursome, which Golijov says is in homage to French late-Baroque composer François Couperin. The other is the wide-ranging 'Three Songs' for soprano (the lustrous Dawn Upshaw, one of his regular collaborators) and orchestra, the first of which is itself in three parts -- the lullaby 'Close Your Eyes,' 'Doina' and 'Gallop.' "The Yiddish lullaby is a lullaby built on a harmonic progression by Bizet," he says. "And 'Doina' and 'Gallop' are really homages to [Romanian gypsy group] Taraf de Haidouks."

That's a lot of range to cover in the course of one CD, but never does it seem forced, and never are the transitions and combinations anything other than seamless. But then, Golijov, an eager yet modest conversationalist, comes to this wide spectrum naturally. Born and raised in La Plata, Argentina, the son of Eastern European Jews, he studied Yiddish as a boy and absorbed Jewish liturgical and klezmer music as well as the inventive tangos of Ástor Piazzolla and other local sounds, pursued composition in Israel and the U.S. (under the inventive George Crumb), traveled extensively throughout Europe and ultimately settled in Massachusetts, where the 46-year-old lives with his wife and three children.

Early on, he was drawn to composers who brought in folk music and vivid senses of time and place to their "classical" works, including Bela Bartok (whose dedicated work at collecting and preserving Hungarian folk music in the early 20th century is credited with preventing many treasures and traditions from being lost) and Heitor Villa-Lobos (who strove to find the common ground between his beloved Bach and the music of his native Brazil). He also relates to recent composers such as Steve Reich and the late Lou Harrison, who have found inspiration in music from such locales as Bali and India, though Golijov's composition technique is, relatively speaking, more rooted in classical traditions.

"Mahler was incredibly important in that sense for me," he says. "And Stravinsky, Bartok, Villa-Lobos. Also the possibilities of [Italian Baroque titan] Monteverdi. If you listen to his Vespers, it's incredible, his transmutation of street festivals into something sacred." And that is very much at the heart of a great deal of Golijov's canon. Often sounds of festivals and public celebrations are transformed in his works into something of spirit, whether in the Passion or 'Ainadamar,' his opera to a libretto by David Henry Hwang dealing with the Spanish Civil War death of poet/dramatist/freedom fighter Frederico García Lorca, or his 'Ayre' song cycle performed with his very multiculti ensemble, delightfully named the Andalucian Dogs.

"To me, music is simply the possibility of exploring in sound the range of human experience and emotion and everything," Golijov says. "Great communal festivals are part of who we are, be that a church or a rave. Even simply if you transport what you hear in the chants in the soccer stadiums -- it doesn't sound very poetic, but it can be oceans of sound. To me that's inspiring, especially in 'Oceana,' with people realizing they are being enslaved and their spirits wailing to the ocean."

Clearly, others find the results inspiring as well. Golijov has become one of the stars of the formal music world, globally acclaimed for work that is at once consistently challenging while also quite inviting and accessible. He's received a MacArthur Fellowship, two Grammy Awards and has served as composer-in-residence for some of the top orchestras and festivals in the world. He was not always encouraged to involve his nonclassical tastes and cultural roots in his art, though. "It was not the happiest time in academia when I was studying," he says.

Today, there's no lack of encouragement and opportunity. Francis Ford Coppola, for one, has become a fan, tapping Golijov to score his upcoming film 'Youth Without Youth.' "It was an amazing experience," Golijov says. "We did it in Romania, though I didn't work with Taraf on this. There's a huge chunk of mystical music featuring the kamancheh -- the Persian fiddle -- played by Kayhan Kalhor, who's wonderful. I could almost extract a kamancheh concerto from this. And there are some parts that are kind of Scriabin meets Messiaen -- hypersaturated score, 80 minutes of music." And next? "I'm very taken by Sardinian music ...."