But when Bernstein composed his own music, he frequently revealed that, in his own heart, he wasn't so confident.
Some of his most interesting and adventurous works are permeated with his doubts about faith in God and humanity, questions about why and how we become who we are.
The Baltimore Symphony Orchestra is devoting this weekend to Bernstein's Symphony No. 3, "Kaddish," which finds the composer at his most confessional.
The symphony is propelled by a lengthy text the composer wrote in the form of a one-sided, equal-footing conversation with God. Bernstein essentially goes through a crisis of faith and expects that the Almighty is doing exactly the same.
Most of us would probably hold this sort of thing in, or only discuss it in private. Bernstein couldn't resist letting it all hang out.
Since the premiere of the "Kaddish" in 1963, the piece has earned its share of complaints about the indulgent text, as well as the music, which mixes agitated atonality, soaring lyricism and jazzy riffs in a way that only Bernstein could.
But, over the decades, the symphony has ...
Judging by Friday night's performance at Meyerhoff Hall, the eventual CD ought to be a winner, on par with the orchestra's recent recording of "Mass," Bernstein's most brilliant faith-doubt fest.
On Friday, music director and Bernstein protege Marin Alsop demonstrated firm control of the demanding symphony, which surrounds the lone speaking voice not just with a full-force orchestra, but adult and boys' choirs and soprano soloist (intoning the traditional text of the Kaddish).NOTE: I originally and mistakenly identified the text as Hebrew, rather than Aramaic.
Alsop's keen rhythmic sense helped keep the often abrupt shifts in mood and musical style on track, so that the structural cohesiveness of the symphony emerged. And she outlined the emotional arc of the work, the journey from worried and argumentative to assertive and hopeful, with satisfying, often gripping results.
In Claire Bloom, the eminent British actress, Alsop found a very persuasive narrator. Bloom spoke in an intimate tone and gave the words an almost musical quality. She made even the most over-the-top lines seem thoroughly natural.
If a little of the text was lost in the hall amid orchestral outbursts (the amplification for Bloom was kept low), the Naxos microphones will no doubt catch them for the recording.
Soprano Kelley Nassief, alone in a balcony above the stage, began her second movement solo with an exquisite pianissimo and proceeded to shape the rising phrases most tenderly. Some top notes revealed strain, but the singing remained impressive throughout.
The Washington Chorus (Julian Wachner, music director) fulfilled its considerable challenges with distinction, pouring out a solid, well-balanced tone. The Maryland State Boychoir (Stephen Holmes, artistic director) made a sweet-sounding, vibrant contribution.
The BSO turned in a terrific performance. Articulation was incisive, phrasing alive with character, right from the start, when the music seemed to emerge through a mist, bringing light with it.
The first half of this all-American concert proved far less memorable, and hardly a fitting complement to the Bernstein work.
To begin, there was a bright romp through John Adams' "Short Ride in a Fast Machine," which is always fun to hear, but has now become a chestnut; something fresher ought to be easy enough to find.
Alsop programmed "Ansel Adams: America," written by jazz legend Dave Brubeck and his son Chris, two years ago. It did not need to come back.
The music is earnest and occasionally colorful, but vaporous, and the hall does not have sophisticated enough projection equipment to do justice to the Ansel Adams photographs that go with the score. The whole experience is terribly lightweight.
That said, Alsop gave the Brubeck piece plenty of expressive attention, and the orchestra responded with consistently colorful playing.
PHOTO COURTESY OF BSO