A review paraphrasing Reich’s own style would read like this: Reich’s repetition reduces rapture. Regardless of how roundabout, Reich’s redundancy rears rebellion. The feeling here is that the re-circulating rhythms and melodies minimalist writer Reich renders reduce receptivity. Regardless of how ravishing the female voices rippling out the four Hebrew psalms here, regardless of how roundabout the refolding and redoubling of Reich’s radiantly ruminant melody, the feeling is Reich’s retrorse romanticism rears ears to rebel. Right, Tehillim is Reich’s least reductive reverie, with a real rising climax. Regardless, the feeling nearing the ending is relief more than relish. Is there a feeling here of rhapsody? Yes, but as on a rotisserie.