DASHOW Archimedes • Michael Kelly (Archimedes); Jennifer Zetlan (Demiurge I, Slave Girl I); Toby Newman (Slave Girl II); Madeleine Albus (Child); Martin Bakari (Marcellus); Brian Giebler (Demiurge II); Adrían Rosas (Hieron); Philip Kerr (Voice of the Prime Mover); Antonio Politano (rcr); unnamed Ch; electronic O • NEUMA 121 (3 CDs: 156:51)

With a composition date of 2000 to 2008, this would appear to be something of a magnum opus for James Dashow. I have previously enjoyed his music in Fanfare, a twofer in 45:5 and a DVD Audio, Soundings in Pure Duration, in Fanfare 43:2.

The opera is based on a concept by the composer with a libretto by Cary Plotkin and Ted Weiss, based on Plutarch and Archimedes’s writings. The narrator is the Roman consul Marcellus, superbly taken by Martin Bakari. This Marcellus was he who suffered Archimedes’s war machines during the siege of Syracuse (214–212 BCE), but who came to understand that Archimedes’s ideas could also be used for good (nuclear physics is of course a natural extension of this). Archimedes invents the mathematics of his time and also imagines the story of mathematics from his time until our own. There is a three-dimensional “planetarium” that complements this release, of video animations elaborated with a six-channel sound. This hexaphonic original was mixed down to two-channel (stereo) for the compact disc release.

In this context, it is Cosmic Powers (the actor Philip Kerr, voice of the Prime Mover) that design Archimedes as an experiment. Kerr is magnificently authoritative in his delivery of the text. The very choice between using knowledge for good or for war (which has its own philosophical arguments as to “value” and “good”) fuels the opera; the Cosmic Powers eventually realize the failure of their experiment and that the ability to move forwards peacefully lies with man himself and his ability to learn from himself and his actions. The second act finds Archimedes at war; the shorter final act (just over half an hour) takes us to the death of Archimedes. The final act is deft; after the warring of the second act, it seems to operate on another plane, with an epilogue replete with golden, glowing sonorities.

The opera is subtitled “A Planetarium Opera,” and utilizes a “digital Planetarium”; it utilizes an astonishing array of electronic sounds, as well as acoustic instruments. Although the libretto is available at Dashow’s own website, it is dispensable in that the diction from all concerned is so clear: it is easier simply just to listen. There is a useful, scene-by-scene account of the opera on his website which does supplement the documentation on the hard copy well, however.

The voices are clearly well chosen: the perfect example is the voices of the two Slave Girls (soprano Jennifer Zetlan and mezzo Toby Newman) work perfectly together. It is baritone Michael Kelly who gets the “Eureka” moment, and absolutely makes the most of it (act I, scene 3); he also seems to relish Dashow’s angular lines (“The King of Syraceuse,” set to a distorted vocal fanfare, for example). Hearing explanations of and experiments with physics such as we might hear in school set to music is fascinating, especially when they are followed by a chorus of “Bravo, Archimedes!”; and how funny it is then to hear, “They say it came to you while bathing,” and when Archimedes answers in the affirmative, the response “Then do bathe, and often.” There is a light touch here, but not one that undermines the serious nature of the opera’s subject. When mathematics is the subject, it takes on a feeling of exploration and of wonder. Certainly, there is no hint of the “academic.” The electronics of both “Mathematics II” and “Mathematics III” are compellingly beautiful, and powerful, as is that for the act’s final section, “And the Sun,” while the preparations for war in this second act have a real raw power. All credit is due to tenor Martin Bakari for his narration here; it is absolutely gripping, delivered in a fearsomely powerful voice.

Dashow’s score is a miracle of the imagination. It uses “sampled orchestral sounds” as well as electronica in a very successful and natural way; if ebbs and flows like any good operatic score, propelled not only by Dashow’s fertile imagination, but by the sheer excellence of his performers and the strong libretto. Despite the visceral nature of some of the second act, it is the final stretches that really hit the mark, as Dashow’s writing achieves a chamber music transparency; in fact, parts of act III remind me of Stockhausen at his most beautiful. At the heart of the final act sits “Mathematics III,” a quarter-hour work of virtuoso electronic composition (again, there is a separate concert version of this available). The entry of the Demiurge (soprano Jennifer Zetlan and high tenor Brian Giebler) is positively searing, and she continues at super-high voltage; the “Epilogue” is timeless and unutterably profound.

While the ideal remains to actually see the opera, produced in a planetarium as a full immersion audio and video theatrical experience, this is one of the most successful compact disc versions of an opera to have come my way, ever. Parts of this opera have appeared before: there is a concert version on a Wergo disc that made Mike Silverton’s Want List in 1990, his review appearing in Fanfare 13:6 (clearly a warm-up to the main event). This might well end up in my next Want List, too—watch this space. Colin Clarke