Of all the composers who write for film, few are likely to pen music that is a challenge to listen to. Yes, many horror scores aren't easy listening, although that's invariably because they are just noise. It wouldn't be entirely true to say of Elliot Goldenthal, you don't know quite what to expect - his approach has a good number of well used mannerisms, even if they are deployed differently - but there enough sides to his musical personality for him to deliver something a little off the beaten track. The forces that must occasionally tame his film music (tin eared producers and so on) have no such influence on his concert music and so his oft heard musical ticks are replaced by a wider range of invention and style. For those not in the know, an oratorio is sort of a cross between a requiem and an opera; it has the sacred content of the former, but the storytelling of the latter. In fairness, Fire Paper Water isn't really a true oratorio as it doesn't really tell a story, but mixes poems and words of praise with Vietnamese texts, grafting them onto the more traditional format of the Catholic Mass.

The long opening movement is perhaps the most hard going; its length and somewhat baggy structure means that the listener doesn't always feel the composer leading the way. Careful inspection reveals a gradual build up of ideas, they are simply difficult to pick over such a long period, but it is worth making the effort to discover them. Goldenthal's film scores are often trumpeted (as it were) for their massed brass and percussion, but in this case, the composer seems to prefer the intimate moments. The Vietnamese influences can be felt, but only in the passages featuring a handful of instruments, the fully orchestral passages are much more typical Goldenthal. His presence is most strongly felt in the propulsive Scherzo, whose flighty tempos and occasionally booming orchestral interludes are surprisingly bracing for what seems to be an otherwise rather meditative work. The inclusion of a chanting children's chorus is effective, if unexpected. The closing movement is nominally a Hymn, but more in a long, Mahlerian sense, indeed some of the orchestral passages strongly suggest late Mahler. It's certainly the most "normal" part of the work and has a much more appealing and obvious sense of mournful drama, with few of the more difficult passages found elsewhere.

I noted during my reading that a reviewer from the Washington Post makes claims that the work is slick and derivative, which seems like anti-film composer snobbery. All music owes a debt and Goldenthal owes his, but even in a climate of such hugely diverse musical styles, he remains largely original and engaging. Pretty well most modern music that isn't pastiche, or obviously indebted to another era, tends to be vastly uninspiring to general listeners, despite what stuck up backside music critics say. In most fields of composition, Mozart didn't really break any new ground (that was left to his predecessors and successors, Haydn and Beethoven), indeed it was slick and, if not specifically derivative, then clearly fashioned in the style of the day. Anyway, I don't like to rant, but it just seems that some music critics seem to have forgotten that music is not only a technical accomplishment, but also (to coin a cliché), food for the soul and it's the lack of tangible emotion that puts so many people off modern classical music. True, Goldenthal's work won't be to all tastes, but given the choice between his brand of slick and derivative, but emotive music and the dry, featureless musical soundscapes that many contemporary concert hall composers write, I'll take Goldenthal's any day. The album seems hard to find these days, but is worth the investment and fans of the composer will love every minute.

Score Rating ~

  1. Part I: Offertorium (32:08)
  2. Part II: Scherzo (giang co) (14:14)
  3. Part III: Hymn (19:19)

Total Time ~ 65:43