An immersive, sweeping historical tribute with an enduring presence
Julia Wolfe’s Pulitzer Prize-winning oratorio came to Manchester this weekend and did not disappoint. Anthracite Fields is the tale of and a memorial to American miners, with inspiration drawn from oral histories and Wolfe’s own upbringing in Pennsylvania, rich in deposits of pure coal.
The night began with Gabriela Lena Frank’s Jalapeño Blues, conducted electrically by Ellie Slorach. The piece, rooted in Latin American culture, was rich, playful, and the singers shone with comedic and technically varied elements. While it is important that a piece such as Jalapeño Blues be performed, it felt an odd choice for a majority white-passing chorus. Is it enough for the composer to have mixed heritage? Or should the BBC’s singers be more representative of the piece? Regardless, the chorus brought great passion and energy.
The world premiere of SCALLOP by Laura Bowler followed, conducted by John Storgårds. This piece brought a significant but necessary shift, with foreboding strings and loud dynamics. It felt like a good precursor to Anthracite Fields, building a sense of danger. The soundtrack of water reminded us nicely of the evening’s subject’s environmental aspect, though its volume was distracting.
Julia Wolfe’s Anthracite Fields was also conducted by John Storgårds, who drew out an incredible sound from both the choir and orchestra, and conducted with quiet grace and reserve.
To portray this story through an orchestra felt like an excellent choice to me. The chorus served as our miners, a mass of bodies, their voices uniting to mix beautifully. The orchestra was our machine, with groups of instruments moving in unison. The violins’ physicality was particularly suited to this, as their bows jutted out almost mechanically.
The first movement, Foundation, built momentum tactfully. I felt dragged on the descent into the mines with sliding strings and brass. At times, it felt like the orchestra was running away from Storgårds, which would normally seem like a criticism, but it worked for the message; the syncopation and staggered melodies built a chaotic, crowded atmosphere.
Breaker Boys was the standout piece for me. This was the most upbeat, with a female soloist telling us “the poor little breaker boys’ fate” throughout, with the gritty intonation of a young boy. The use of a modern drum kit brought a rock feel and added a youthfulness. The use of a bike chain delighted me, linking a childlike sense of play with mechanical whirring. Though the movement emphasised the mines’ use of child labour, it served as a sensitive tribute to their lives and contrasted well with the piece’s darker themes.
Speech provided useful context, though the words felt a little shoehorned as lyrics. The soloist was excellent, with a beautiful tone and soaring high notes, and the choir standing alongside the soloist brought a sense of community.
Flowers was a beautiful movement emphasising the environmental impact of the coal mining industry. The lighting was an almost blinding bright pink, which contrasted well with the ever-dimming lights as we descended into the mines throughout the other movements. Hope permeated this piece, that flowers could bloom despite the horrors below.
Appliances finished the piece well, ending with the chorus whistling. It is a profoundly human activity, and likely a way miners would have entertained themselves, yet felt almost soulless with its sustained, unchanging notes. It reminded us of the miners’ humanity but left us with a sense of dread, a reminder of both their legacy and trauma.
A rousing work of art, Anthracite Fields is a tragic tale of hardship, entwined with hope and humanity, and was performed with poise and respect.
This piece was performed for one night only on Saturday 21 March at Bridgewater Hall, Manchester.