A deep and profound synergy emerges as a consequence; the use of a choir to express this dual understanding resonates by its very virtue as a collective body, while simultaneously inducing gracious ease and gratifying meditation through expansive consonance and frequent sforzando. The Latvian Radio Choir, Vox Clamantis, and the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir achieve this with incredible dexterity throughout the album, which also shoulders wearisome moments that swirl and meander in the daunting lengths that some of these pieces encompass. Indeed, the most prolonged of these is the title track, which is a heartfelt and sincere composition that does little to shy away from exposing Adam’s torment. Where the subtlety of hushed tones is delicate and supine, these graceful inflections are continually thrust alongside wide and and thundering choral bursts that crash like monumental waves walloping down on a fragile shoreline. The sound of the music in this case is perfectly aligned with Silhouan’s writings, where the beauty and the wonder of Eden is juxtaposed with the torment felt by Adam, not only as a consequence of his banishment, but also because of the offense he committed against God.
The seeming contrast between splendor and contrition makes Adam’s Lament an awkward listen in places. Though emotions are beautifully marked in the music, approaching its substance proves tricky as an outsider naive to the wider context – the inspirational source responsible for such daring compositional switches amidst soft and assertive tonality. However, this will be nothing new for avid fans of Pärt, who reconciles this complication with some incredible string arrangements, which weave this epic score with one accord. Dazzling pizzicato is wonderfully executed for the duration, and a gorgeous violin section around the 17-minute mark ties together feelings of trepidation, awe, and ultimately acquiescence as the piece draws to a close.
The resulting experience is what one might expect from an album that connects the dots between compositions written over the past two decades. Adam’s Lament is brimming with destructive emotional anguish and nonchalant praise for God on the part of humanity. These are two very distinct angles that often brush up alongside each other across the album’s breadth. On tracks where this is achieved more pleasingly, Salve Regina and Beatus Petronius for instance, the affect is quite breathtaking – a resplendent insight into the way that Arvo Pärt has developed as a composer in harnessing fluidity to embellish a point about righteousness through astounding melody. However, where this convergence is made more apparent, the arrangements display an effect almost schizophrenic in their progression, creating a sense of unease that is seemingly unintended, for this most venerated offering is brought to an end with two carefully refined lullabies. As concluding pieces, they almost appear as an afterthought, while concurrently bringing about a feeling of genuine cohesion – and what better way to tie together the repenting embodiment of humankind and the utmost adoration for Christ, than with a hushed and tender farewell.