CD Feature/ Ariel Ramirez: "Missa Criolla"
TobiasWhen was the last time you were in church? When put before the choice between having another deliciously buttery croissant with jam or leaving your warm bed for the local parish, the latter hardly stands a chance anymore. While our parents were often drawn as much by religion as the beauty of the music, the latter has somehow lost touch with the next generation. What would happen, however, if you knew that it wasn’t those good old chorales and rosaries waiting for you on Sunday, but passionate performances, mysterious voices, sweeping drums and intoxicating rhythms?
For that is the music waiting for you on this disc. If it hits you unforseenly, it might well knock you off your chair, set your feet moving, your hands clapping and your mind trying to unravel the riddle of how on earth sacral songs could do this to your body. And while it is still in the process of recovering, serene and solemn hymns touch your heart and sould - Ariel Ramirez is an Argentinian native and his compositions hit their spot right in the middle of the extasy of Gospel and the spiritual elevation of Occidental traditions. “Navidad Nuestra” and “Misa Criolla”, two pieces of around twenty minutes’ length and segmented into various parts, must be among the most peculiar and idiosyncratic works I’ve heard for some time, combining folk from the Andes with operatic singing, Pop, Christmas charols and a drop of mysticism. Conductor Joseph Holt calls them “joyful, poignat, dramatic, soulful, vibrant, reflective, haunting” and knows very well that he’s not even come close to decribing this music in full. Nestled in between Ramirez’ offerings is Guido Haazen’s “Miss Luba”. Haazen was a missionary in the Republic of Congo and weaves melodic improvisations of local singers into a colourful and uplifting quilt.While the drums roll and the chorus and solists hum in warm and familiar tone, your mind is soothed into a parallel state of conscious listening and lucid dreaming – open to the sound, open to the message.
For some reason these remote and – if we may use this difficult vocable – exotic masterpieces seem to stand much closer to our ears than, for example, Bach. Maybe this is because this music does not wipe off the street, the sweat, the blood and the tears, before it goes to mass – and can still feel close to God. We wouldn’t place our bets that this music will keep you from that second croissant with jam on your Sunday morning. But we could well imagine you listening to this CD while you’re at it.
By Tobias Fischer
Homepage: Naxos Records
Homepage: Ariel Ramirez