Barbra Streisand's Higher Ground touched this reviewer from start to finish like no previous album in her 54-disc history. Arguably, this is Barbra's finest studio work since 1985's The Broadway Album and represents her most personal collection of songs to date. Always valuing the truth above all, here Barbra has sought and recorded songs which inspire her to positive thinking and, in turn, provide a candid window to her thoughts on matters close to the heart, such as God and love. Simply, she has never been so real and accessible as on this album, with a golden voice belying her years, continually dazzling, surprising, and frequently overwhelming us. At nearly 57 minutes, Higher Ground is Barbra's longest single studio CD, all songs except one tracking over four minutes. Employing mainly evolving narratives, the songs speak many truths, with an underlying faith in humanity and God. Technically, Barbra is reaching F notes here, which are full steps higher than her customary E-flat climaxes, and reveal a bountiful voice with total control, power, and perhaps a wider range than ever. Her serious image on the album cover suggests a personal bearing of the soul, offering a new musical experience undoubtedly strongly emotional for Barbra and hopefully for the listener, certainly this one.

Setting the album's inspired and motivational tone, "I Believe," coupled with "You'll Never Walk Alone," sets forth Barbra Streisand's personal statement for the album. As in the opening title sequence of her highly personal film, Yentl, a full orchestra launches the work, with dramatic highs and lows to set a hopeful mood. Barbra, sounding similarly earnest, sings the first line, "I believe for every drop of rain that falls a flower grows." Her exquisite, understated vocals declare a strong faith in God, and the orchestra joins her to virtually peel open like a flower and reach joyously upward on the phrase, "Then I know why." Barbra's magic again. "When you walk through a storm..." changes the mood, bringing the message down to earth, her vocals, accompanied by only a drum track, starting out deliberately tentative, even somewhat foreboding, to emphasize taking care and echoing life's uncertainty and fragility. Gradually, the full 70-piece orchestra and Barbra warm the scene, as her vocals grow ever more optimistic that "You'll never walk alone," summoning a big, bright note to underscore her certainty. As performed in Rodgers & Hammerstein's, Carousel, the song speaks of faith in God and humanity, doing the same here, but also perhaps sending a subtle message to Barbra's loyal fans regarding the importance of her music in their lives, which has sustained many through difficult times.

Though written as a religious song, "Higher Ground" explores a personal journey, which in Barbra's interpretation, clearly extends to love and a benevolent lifestyle. Sounding distinctly hopeful, she implores, "Take my hand and lift me higher / Be my love and my desire... / Take my heart to higher ground," surely addressing her fiancé James Brolin to whom she credits in the booklet for "giving me the love I sing about." With Dean Parks' ever-present, simple acoustic guitar coloring the journeying aspect, Barbra sings lines of regret for past shortsightedness. The phrase, "share the truth with me," is especially significant and further emphasizes the album's message.

Looking at the Earth and extolling the virtues of an ideal world in which people feel united in their humanity is Barbra's focus in "At The Same Time." She embodies optimism from the very first line, "Think of all the hearts beating in the world at the same time," a sentiment soon shared by her background singers and dynamic children's choir. Truly inspirational for the listener, Ann Hampton Callaway's extraordinary song, so deftly arranged by Walter Afanasieff and Jeremy Lubbock, speaks of children, parenting, love, compassion, and overcoming fears. Barbra's emotional vocals signal her deep sensitivity ("All of life is in our trembling hands"), the song concluding with a gentle harmony duet with herself, with only light accompaniment, once she reaches the top of the scale.

With its superb vocal blending and memorable chorus, one can visualize "Tell Him" on a musical theater stage, Barbra as the older mentor and Celine Dion as the younger woman seeking advice on how to keep the man she loves. The duet, written specifically for the two ladies, prominently features a Spanish-style guitar, and allows them to stamp their respective signatures on the song, with Barbra being quite generous, and Celine oversinging at times, regardless of the lyric. After Celine sets the scene by herself for two entire verses, beginning with "I'm scared," Barbra then sweeps in with "I've been there" and advises Celine to "tell him" the truth of her adoration. The chorus of both rising voices is the most effective part of the number, and with each occurrence, brings richer music, the sweetest strings saved for the final refrain. Barbra's humming before the last line, "Never let him go," suggests memories of a past love she wishes she hadn't let go.

Barbra and Mervyn Warren's landmark, electrifying collaboration, "On Holy Ground," returns the album to a more reverential tone. As the lush strings glide in, followed by the full orchestra, the song sends a signal that something extraordinary is about to happen. Backed only by piano and Hammond organ, Barbra recalls with awe, "When I walked through the doors, I sensed His presence." By the first chorus, "We are standing on holy ground," she expresses her love and faith, still with sparse instrumentation but heralding the entrance of the 18-person gospel choir. The addition of drums and strings ushers the music into a new phase, building fervor and urgency, and supporting Barbra and the choir's celebratory tone. But, this isn't "Jubilation," a lively but somewhat pretentious song from Barbra's long-gone Butterfly days. "On Holy Ground" (the longest track on the album at 6:12) is the real thing, which Barbra experienced at Virginia Kelley's funeral and motivated this album - an authentic, full-spirited church number, with Barbra feeling and meaning every word and making that magic. The choir sings the second chorus straight, while Barbra infuses an exciting call-and-response improvisation. By the third chorus, the rousing voices reach a higher key, and Barbra creates another magical moment, soaring mightily - "Let us pray-ay-ay-ay-aise...praise him anyhow!" But, there's still more. Her heavenly highs on "sorrow" and "tomorrow," declaring her steadfast faith in God's love, are simply astounding. Then, during the song's final 25 seconds, Barbra and the choir reach the mountaintop. Triumphantly, she climbs eight progressively higher vocal steps to reach that ultimate holy "ground!" reminiscent of her passion and physical energy at the climaxes of "Somewhere" and "Ordinary Miracles" in recent years. Simultaneously, the choir and orchestra reach its zenith, while the drums pound and bells chime. Wondrous!

Amazingly, Barbra follows with another emotional song, "If I Could," co-produced by Arif Mardin and beautifully orchestrated by Lubbock. Singing directly to son Jason Gould, Barbra speaks the truth, which often hurts ("I've watched you grow, so I could let you go"). The acoustic guitar-driven tune exposes a vulnerable mother, frustrated because she can't cry her grown child's tears or suffer hardships for him. Her high notes tearfully long for her son to understand her sensitivity. In recent years, "Not While I'm Around" (from Sondheim's Sweeney Todd) similarly displayed Barbra's maternal sentiments, though somewhat less urgently than her exceptional and touching efforts here.

"Circle" finds Barbra advancing the simple idea of humanity's common thread within a musical framework similar to "At The Same Time," also produced by Walter Afanasieff and driven by Dann Huff's adroit guitar-playing. Along with her background singers, Barbra's voice overlaps itself through the wizardry of overdubbing in a song full of catchy hooks, such as the joyous phrases "joining me to you and you to me," "round and round and round we go," and the refrain, "This circle just goes on and on and on." On the last line, the music and Barbra's tone suggests a tentativeness, since reality reflects that the world isn't yet on board.

Uilleann pipes echoing the signature of "The Water Is Wide" and oboes calling "Deep River" transport us to a mystical, quasi-new age environment. Brilliantly crafted by Barbra and co-producer and arranger Mardin, the superb medley finds Barbra at her very best. Both traditionals speak of "crossing over," with "Deep River," a mid-1800s spiritual, addressing God directly about desiring a heavenly relocation. Not only do both songs' lyrics interrelate but so do their keys, providing Barbra with a very rich, low note on which to begin "Deep River." And, as Johnny Mathis did on his influential rendition 40 years earlier, Barbra then agilely moves up the scale ("My home is over Jordan"). Returning to "The Water Is Wide," Barbra's final line ("my love and I") moves her to issue a gorgeously delicate and hopeful high note, which blends into the orchestra and pipes to conclude the medley. Magical.

"Leading With Your Heart," written by Marvin Hamlisch and Alan & Marilyn Bergman partly to honor Virginia Kelley, actually tells an autobiographical tale. Complemented by enveloping music and swirling synthesizers reminiscent of her "Somewhere," Barbra humbly admits not always following her heart, that is until "someone's arms caught me by surprise." Gradually, she turns from herself to the listener, urging us in the chorus to "follow what you feel...Leading with your heart you will find your way." Yes, it's a song related to Barbra's current engagement, but, unlike love songs she has previously recorded, it reaches out to us.

With its lyric-heavy structure, "Lessons To Be Learned" presents a definite challenge, but Barbra rises to the occasion in a song which encourages a healthier way of dealing with life's unexpected problems and disappointments. "There are no mistakes / Just lessons to be learned" is the basic theme, which Barbra passionately conveys to the extent of "loving yourself through it all," stretching that final note to multi-syllables. More magic. She practically cries with frustration, while singing at emotional heights, "Why, why did the right road take that wrong turn..." Barbra feels it and so do we.

"Everything Must Change," while perhaps the most lyrically simple, offers Higher Ground's richest subtext. Flutes, together with Randy Waldman's somber piano, usher in the song's initial, basic lyric, "Everything must change / Nothing stays the same." Barbra's heartfelt, almost heartbreaking, singing reflects Lubbock's bittersweet orchestral arrangement and is perhaps the album's sweetest and most emotional secular vocalizing. And, change is certainly afoot in Barbra's life, as she has become more active in film production than acting or directing; returned to concerts; conquered many of her fears; plans to remarry; and expanded her musical repertoire with this album. Striking is her childlike voice in the final verse, backed by an irresistible rolling piano, reminding us, "Rain comes from the clouds / Sun lights up the sky." And what about music? "And music makes me cry," extending that last note until she and piano key simultaneously shed a delicate tear. This very personal connection between music and crying should not to be overlooked, especially when it's this album's last English words. Certainly the connection relates to Virginia Kelley's funeral, which so moved Barbra, and, similarly, the songs in this collection all exhibit Barbra truly feeling the music. In a more abstract way, the connection may extend to music's place in Barbra's career, one which has seen relatively little public performing. And, finally, the connection between music and crying functions most directly as a lead-in to the album's final and most solemn track, "Avinu Malkeinu."

Following a sparse string intro, Barbra deferentially utters the first words of the Jewish prayer, "Avinu malkeinu sh'ma kolenu" ("Our Father, our King hear our prayer"), with melancholy reverence, perhaps with bowed head, and admits her sins, while seeking God's compassion. The 24-person choir sings most of the second verse alone, Barbra only joining in for one line, simulating a moving, synagogue setting. By the third verse, Barbra's musical prayer is soaring to the heavens, emphasizing her wish for God's blessing and a good new year. Marvin Hamlisch's ensuing orchestral interlude is smooth as silk, followed by the choir making the new year wish alone and Barbra repeating her fervent plea for God's blessing. Dramatically, the final portion of the prayer features Barbra, perhaps again with bowed head, soberly repeating "Sh'ma kolenu" ("Hear our prayer") four times before blending into the orchestra and choir. This repetition in a quiet voice bookends her opening prayer for humankind and to God, "I Believe," also concluding with repetition flowing from a soft, sober fragility.

Given the diverse emotional responses Higher Ground will surely elicit, I expect this album will inevitably join the ranks of Barbra Streisand's all-time classic works. Certainly, this album offers new insight into the real Barbra, a sensitive and caring artist, whose talent is apparently limitless, and whose Muse continues to inspire.