Classical McCartney Basks At Carnegie Hall

NEW YORK -- Response to the American premiere of "Ecce Cor Meum," Paul McCartney's new classical long-form composition, was overwhelming: a 10-minute standing ovation at New York's Carnegie Hall on Tuesday night. And that was before a single note of music was performed.

It's been 42 years since the Cute Beatle's first U.S. appearance and he is still greeted by screaming fans. "Paul, Paul, Paul," they chanted as he took his seat in the dress circle, surrounded by friends such as Elvis Costello, Conan O'Brien and Jerry Seinfeld.

If the crowd came to hear even the faint echoes of famous Beatle songs, they got them. "Ecce Cor Meum," Latin for "Behold My Heart," bears the McCartney signature: crisp, clean and easily hummable melody lines. These brief tunes emerge from a very somber and conventional (at least by the standards of this genre) piece, peeking every so often through traditional, often predictable "classical" arrangements.

In the liner notes for the work's release on CD, McCartney states: "Writing it has been a great learning experience for me. Apart from some piano lessons as a child, I've never had a lesson in composition or notation . . . " -- a reminder to all those who savaged his 1991 "Liverpool Oratorio" to cut him some slack. McCartney is a modern master of the three-minute melody, but he's still wrestling with the complexities of the symphonic form. Still, despite its structural limitations, "Ecce Cor Meum" is a genuinely sad and moving work.

Commissioned in 1996 to inaugurate a new concert hall at Magdalen College in Oxford University, its completion was delayed by Linda McCartney's illness and subsequent death from breast cancer two years later. The anguish McCartney experienced from the death of his spouse of nearly 30 years served as its deepest source of inspiration. The composition went through several permutations before McCartney finally recorded it earlier this year at Abbey Road Studios in London with the Academy of St. Martin's in the Fields, conducted by Gavin Greenaway and featuring soprano Kate Royal.

"Ecce Cor Meum" could easily have been called "A Requiem for Linda." Its release serves as a reminder of a satisfying and dignified union, a tonic to tawdry reports about the dissolution of McCartney's second marriage to ex-model Heather Mills.

Although spiritual in nature, "Ecce" is not a religious work, according to McCartney. Composed in four parts -- "Spiritus," "Gratia," "Musica" and "Ecce Cor Meum" with a graceful oboe "Interlude (Lament)" -- the composition would, however, sound very much at home in a high Anglican church on serious occasions.

From the opening eerie chant of "Spiritus, spiritus lead us to love" -- ably sung for this performance by the Concert Chorale of New York and the American Boychoir with the Orchestra of St. Luke's conducted by Gavin Greenaway -- immense sadness permeates the music. This is especially evident in the final section, where Kate Royal -- reprising her soloist role in the recording -- sings, "Ecce cor meum, behold my heart / there in the future we may be apart / but here in my music I show you my heart," like a modern Eurydice bidding farewell to her Orpheus as she vanishes into the underworld.

Love and loss have been constant themes throughout McCartney's musical career -- even his early Beatles compositions had a wistful, melancholy feel to them -- and this new work reflects that sense of longing, especially in its quieter passages. Observing McCartney eagerly watching his newest work performed -- as he leaned way back, clutching his knees in a childlike pose -- one could sense the wonder that music still holds for this cultural legend. He's brave to keep exploring and taking risks, even if some of the results are more conventional than one might hope for.

The concert opened with an hour's sampling of other McCartney compositions featuring Royal, as well as tenor Andrew Staples. Accompanied by the Loma Mar Quartet and the St. Luke's Chamber Orchestra, they included an instrumental piece titled "Nova" -- which sounded like something that might have resulted if Bernard Herrmann and Aaron Copland had produced a love child -- and a sentimental, waltzlike arrangement of an old McCartney favorite from his first solo album, "Junk."