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Rating: Let's imagine the weight of responsibility that Peter Gabriel must have felt when Martin Scorsese entrusted him with the soundtrack of the film "The Last Temptation of Christ". An almost impossible mission: to represent the Passion of Christ in music, further highlighting the inner conflict between his divinity and his humanity. Behind him, far back in the centuries but looming like gigantic mountains, are the two monumental Passions of Johann Sebastian Bach (according to Matthew and John). Only music to express itself, therefore not even the possibility of utilizing enlightened texts as Fabrizio De André did with his "Buona novella".
Whatever the case, the disorientation must have lasted little because what emerged is the absolute masterpiece of Peter Gabriel, a work that goes far beyond its original function as a soundtrack, assuming a deeper meaning, that of authentic sacred music, a term usually understood in a classical sense, associated with solemn organs, majestic chorales, and heavenly solos. But in 1989, nothing prevented a curious and experimental musician from attempting to make sacred music with completely different means, and Peter Gabriel had accumulated plenty of raw material for this work, ever since his interest turned towards the music of the so-called Third World, particularly African music. Music from lands where Passion, in the sense of suffering, is so present and constant that it does not even need to be represented. The list of ethnic instruments used in this work is impressive: especially percussions (mute or talking drums, Moroccan, sub-Saharan African, Brazilian, Indian tablas, etc.) and wind instruments (Turkish Ney flutes, Armenian or Kurdish doudouks, Egyptian arghuls, etc.).
The list of electronic wizardry used by Peter Gabriel to combine these natural sounds into perfect alchemies is no joke either, even though not infrequently the voice of these instruments is deliberately left "naked" precisely to preserve their primitive magic. This is the case with the Kurdish theme of "Lazarus Raised", a timeless lament surfacing amidst two powerful rhythmic pieces ("Of These, Hope"), or the sublime Armenian lullaby that opens the initial "The Feeling Begins" which then, following a pattern inaugurated since "The Rhythm Of The Heat", evolves into an impressive crescendo of African percussions. Many episodes of this Passion are in crescendo: dark or lamenting start, however slow, then a great percussive climax. But the variety of themes and instrumental voices makes each piece a well recognizable gem, and some particularly precious. For instance, "Zaar", a refined interplay between Shankar's magical violin and crystalline oriental percussions, is something out of "One Thousand and One Nights": it really feels like being in an Arabian city at dusk, with the first stars shining among the minarets. Pure impressionism is also seen in "Sandstorm": it makes one want to take shelter from the oncoming sand. The pinnacle of suffering is "Passion", with the desperate vocalizations of Nusrat Fateh and Youssou N'Dour sounding as if they are battling against a storm of evil drums. The triumphant and liberating chiming of the instruments in "It Is Accomplished" evokes the Resurrection in the best way possible. "With This Love" is the only track that adheres to the soundtrack's canons, both in the orchestral and choral version, but Peter Gabriel finds such an inspired and moving melody that we don't even realize that it's essentially a foreign body.
Each of the 21 stations of this Via Crucis would deserve a long stop, but there is no space. It can only be said that if Peter Gabriel becomes immortal, without taking anything away from his other splendid records, he will owe it to this unrepeatable work.
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