Year: 2018

Composers, Concert review, File Under?, Minimalism, New York, Piano

Simone Dinnerstein in Recital at Miller Theatre

Photo: Lisa Marie Mazzucco.

 

Simone Dinnerstein in Recital

Miller Theatre – Columbia University

December 8, 2018

Published on Sequenza21.com

By Christian Carey

 

NEW YORK – On Saturday, December 8th, pianist Simone Dinnerstein made a return appearance to Miller Theatre to perform an intriguing and eclectic solo recital. The stage was set with subdued lighting, with electric “candles” placed throughout and, over the course of the evening, small shifts of color. Ms. Dinnerstein, dressed in elegant, flowing attire, created an atmosphere through her performance demeanor as well. The recital was announced with no intermission and the pianist paused from playing only once, midway through, to acknowledge applause and take a brief break. However, by otherwise starting each piece immediately after the final notes of the one it preceded, she communicated clearly that this was not to be an event in which musical continuity would be broken by applause between numbers. Thankfully the audience complied, mutually agreeing to allow the atmosphere to envelop them too.

 

Dinnerstein played two pieces by the Eighteenth century harpsichord composer Francois Couperin, one at the beginning and another right before the break. This is the first time she has programmed the composer. Her approach to Les Barriades mystérieueses was sonorous, eschewing ornamentation in favor of unadorned, shapely melodies. Like the Goldberg Variations, the second piece required interlacing the hands to play everything on the piano keyboard that would have required two manuals on the harpsichord. Le Tic-Toc-Choc, ou Les Mallotins featured motoric clockwork and brisk filigrees that were an excellent foil for the Philip Glass work that immediately preceded it.

 

Mad Rush (1979), one of Glass’s best known piano pieces, was first composed for the organ at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, where the composer performed it for an appearance by the Dalai Lama. Arranged for piano, the piece is forceful and filled with contrasts. Its delicate passages were played with a spacious sense of breath by Dinnerstein, while the more emphatic central section in piece’s the repeating loop was performed powerfully with fleet-fingered accuracy. Last year, Dinnerstein’s account of Glass’s Third Piano Concerto was impressive; here, she made a further case for a place in the pantheon of Glass pianists. Contrast played a large role in Dinnerstein’s rendition of Robert Schumann’s Arabesque. Once again, she emphasized the breath between phrases, allowing the audience a sense of deft transition between the various emotive sections as they unspun.

 

Erik Satie’s Gnossiene No. 3 received the mysterious performance its ambiguous markings and lack of bar-lines evokes. One part cafe music and another modal Impressionist excursion, the piece was rendered with an evasive, lilting quality.

The pianist, in general, avoids overt and flashy displays of hyper-virtuosity, preferring instead to pick distinct places in which she allows her playing to be unrestrained. Dinnerstein’s performance of Schumann’s Kreisleriana provided several excellent opportunities for effusive virtuosity, and they seemed all the more special for the way that the pianist set them in relief against the more contemplative portions of the work. Fleet arpeggiations flew and the fugal passage in the final movement was a brisk cannonade.

 

Dinnerstein’s aforementioned penchant for allowing the music to breathe, as well as the atmosphere she created for her performance, encouraged a normally bustling New York audience to truly slow down and breathe themselves: a welcome respite during the busy holiday season. When the encore she favored them with was not some barnstormer but instead a reprise of Les Barriades, allowing the program to come full circle, it seemed entirely appropriate.

 

by Christian Carey
Composers, Concert review, Opera, Premieres

György Kurtág’s “Samuel Beckett: Fin de partie” at La Scala

[Ed. note: Former S21 contributor, member, and friend David Salvage has in the last couple years pulled up his U.S. tent pegs and landed in Italy. He’s offered up his review of the latest György Kurtág premiere last month at La Scala.]
………………………………………………….

After decades of prodding, false starts, intense study, delays, and, finally, seven years of composing, György Kurtág, at age ninety-two, has written his first opera. For its subject matter, he has chosen Samuel Beckett’s Endgame, a play he saw during its initial run in Paris in 1957 and has loved ever since. World premieres don’t get any more hotly anticipated than this, and it was a privilege to be in attendance for the opera’s final performance at the Teatro alla Scala in Milan.

Endgame takes place on one of the last days of an imperious invalid named Hamm. As he sits in his wheelchair, he gives his servant, Clov, half-pointless tasks to do, like reporting on what’s outside the windows or pushing him around the room. Stuck in the same space are Hamm’s parents, Nagg and Nell, who live in two trashcans, having lost their legs years earlier in a biking accident. There is little food left for the four of them, and outside lies a bleak landscape of post-apocalyptic desolation.

While Kurtág’s work will inevitably be referred to simply as Fin de partie, its complete title is worth keeping in mind. The opera is actually called Samuel Beckett: Fin de partie and bears the subtitle “scenes and monologues, opera in one act.” By including Beckett’s name in the title, Kurtág connects the work with his earlier Beckett setting, Samuel Beckett: What is the Word; with the subtitle, he suggests that the present is something formally more open than a traditional opera.

The result bears out both title and subtitle. The original version of What is the Word is for singer and piano, and the piano doubles the singer note for note without contributing additional harmony or counterpoint. A similar closeness marks Kurtág’s approach to the singers and orchestra in Fin de partie: while the orchestration is vast and colorful and adds harmony to the vocal lines, emphasis to the stage action, and commentary on the text, principally, the instruments serve to double the vocal lines, making for an almost monadic work that is intensely expressive. Indeed, this is the miracle of Fin de partie: Beckett’s play is quirky, intimate, and subtle—in other words, not material readily suitable for operatic adaptation. And yet Kurtág’s music captures the text’s many mercurial shifts in tone while remaining nothing if not coherent and compelling. As much as any opera in history, Fin de partie finds that magical ground where song, speech, and tone are united. Rather than an end of anything, I found it to be a beginning, an opera rich in new possibilities for composers to come.

It is with the opera’s subtitle, however, where Kurtág seems less surefooted. In creating a libretto of an appropriate length, he has very significantly reduced the role of Clov. By doing so, Kurtág has weakened the play’s dramatic heart: the complex interdependence of a master and his servant. These cuts make some important moments in the opera’s second half come out awkwardly. When Hamm laments that a stuffed dog is not in fact real, the statement is a bit baffling because Kurtág has the cut the play’s sad and comical stuffed-dog scene (which involves Clov).  When Hamm thanks Clov for all he has done for him, we might be similarly puzzled, since in the opera he does little for his master (crucial scenes mentioned above involving the windows and the wheelchair ride are also cut). Strangely, Kurtág also omits the parts where Hamm asks Clov whether it’s time for his painkiller; in the play, Clov always says that it’s not time; at the end, he finally reveals to Hamm that there is no more painkiller left. In the opera, we only get this final exchange: the result is a sudden outburst that lacks catharsis. And in the opera, Clov’s long concluding monologue (prompted by Hamm to say something “from the heart”) seems more like a set-piece than the expression of things long unspoken.

By attenuating the play’s central conflict, Kurtág’s Fin de partie becomes less unified—more “open”—than Beckett’s original. As a result, it prioritizes the expression of inwardness over the realization of drama. As the opera goes on, the monologues take over, and the drama becomes more and more suspended. Of course, monologues can heighten drama; but this depends on the characters’ being insightful about themselves, others, or their situations. Beckett’s aren’t, and he wisely never lets their stories, musings, or ramblings dominate for too long in the play.

While I loved every note of Fin de partie and found the music’s force such that I’ve had trouble composing ever since seeing it, I remain puzzled as to what was gained by the approach Kurtág took: reducing Clov cuts into the play’s very core, and giving the monologues free reign is the wrong approach for this material. (I have some speculations about this, but I’ll save them for the comments section.)

Meanwhile, what remains is a grand achievement—a new opera at an extraordinarily high level. Those who stuck their necks out to make Fin de partie happen—Alexander Pereira, sovrintendente of La Scala, perhaps foremost among them—deserve our respect and gratitude. However problematic it might be, this is a work that bestows honor on any institution who decides to mount it or any musician who participates in its performance.

by David Salvage
Choral Music, Commissions, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, early music, File Under?, New York

Tallis Scholars Premiere Nico Muhly in Midtown

Tallis Scholars. Photo: Nick Rutter.

Tallis Scholars: A Renaissance Christmas

Miller Theatre Early Music Series

Church of St. Mary the Virgin

December 1, 2018

Published on Sequenza 21

By Christian Carey

 

NEW YORK – The Tallis Scholars, directed by Peter Phillips, made their annual appearance in New York as part of Miller Theatre’s Early Music series at the Church of St. Mary the Virgin in Midtown. The program was billed as a dual celebration — the 45th anniversary of the Tallis Scholars and Miller Theatre’s 30th anniversary season.

 

In honor of the occasion, Miller Theatre commissioned a new piece for the Tallis Scholars by composer Nico Muhly. Muhly has, of late, garnered a great deal of attention for two Metropolitan Opera commissions  — Two Boys and Marnie — but he often talks about his first love being choral music (he began his musical career as a chorister). Muhly’s choral works are exquisitely crafted and texturally luminous. Rough Notes (2018), his new piece for the concert at St. Mary’s, took its texts from two diary entries by Robert Falcon Scott, written near the end of his ill-fated voyage to Antarctica. The first excerpt describes the aurora australis, providing words such as “arches, bands, and curtains”  that are ripe for colorful musical setting. The second was Scott’s stoic expression of confidence in his team’s ability to accept their impending deaths with dignity. Muhly’s use of lush cluster chords in the first section gave way to more sharply etched, but still glinting, harmonies in the second, as well as poignantly arcing melodies. The divided choir of ten voices was skilfully overlapped to sound like many times that number. It is always fascinating to hear the Tallis Scholars switch centuries, and thus style, to perform contemporary repertoire; for instance, their CD of Arvo Pärt’s music is a treasure. One hopes that they might collaborate on a recording with Muhly in the future.

 

The rest of the program was of considerably earlier music, but ranged widely in chronology. The earliest piece was an elegant and under-heralded Magnificat setting by John Nesbett from the late Fifteenth century that is found in the Eton Choirbook. Chant passages give way to various fragments of the ensemble that pit low register vs. high for much of the piece. It culminates by finally bringing all the voices together in a rousing climax. The Tallis Scholars has, of yet, not recorded Nesbett, but Peter Phillips has committed the Magnificat to disc in an inspired performance with the Choir of Merton College, Oxford (The Marian Collection, Delphian, 2014).  

 

Palestrina’s motet Hodie Christus natus est, and the eponymous parody mass which uses this as its source material, were the centerpiece of the concert. The motet was performed jubilantly and with abundant clarity. The mass is one of Palestrina’s finest. He took the natural zest of its source material, added plenty of contrapuntal elaborations, and made subtle shifts to supply a thoughtful rendition of the text. Although we are, in terms of the liturgical calendar, in the midst of the reflective period of Advent, being propelled forward to the midst of some of the most ebullient yet substantial Christmas music of the Renaissance was a welcome inauguration of the season.

 

The two works that concluded the concert dealt with different aspects of the Christmas story. William Byrd’s Lullaby is actually quite an unsettling piece; its text deals with the Slaughter of the Innocents as ordered by Herod. One is left to imagine the infant Jesus being consoled by Mary and Joseph in the midst of their flight from persecution. Byrd composed it in the Sixteenth century (it was published in 1588), but Lullaby was the piece on the concert most tailored to this moment, evoking concerns of our time: the plight of refugees, the slaughter of innocent bystanders by acts of senseless aggression: particularly the vulnerability of children to indiscriminate bombing abroad and the epidemic of gun violence in our own country.

 

The last piece returned to a festive spirit and brought the Tallis Scholars to the cusp of the Baroque with Hieronymus Praetorius’s Magnificat V with interpolations of two carols: Joseph lieber, Joseph mein and In dulci jubilo. During the Christmas season, interspersing carols and sections of the Magnificat was a standard practice in Baroque-era Lutheran churches; J.S. Bach might even have done so in the services he led at St. Thomas Church in Leipzig. Praetorius plus two carols gave the Tallis Scholars an opportunity to share three of their most-performed Christmas pieces. From seemingly effortless floating high notes to sonorous bass singing, with tons of deftly rendered imitative passages in the inner voices, the group made a glorious sound. One eagerly awaits their return to New York during their 46th season.

 

by Christian Carey
Best of, CD Review, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Best of 2018 – Best Violin Concerto

Best of 2018 – Best Violin Concerto

Michael Hersch

end stages, Violin Concerto

Patricia Kopatchinskaja, violin,

International Contemporary Ensemble, Tito Muñoz, Orpheus Chamber Orchestra

New Focus Recordings fcr208

 

Composer Michael Hersch consistently writes music with emotional immediacy that explores aching vulnerability with consummate eloquence. His Violin Concerto is like a wound still raw. Soloist Patricia Kopatchinskaja ramps up the intensity, as does ICE, conducted here by Tino Muñoz, rendering the work’s first and third movements with bracing strength and its second with fragile uneasiness. This emotion returns, amplified by high-lying solos and echoing attacks from the ensemble, to provide a tensely wrought close to the piece.

 

Orpheus Chamber Orchestra is renown for their conductor-less approach to chamber orchestra works. Still, the coordination and balance they exhibit on Hersch’s end stages deserves particular praise. Glacial slabs of dissonant harmonies give way to howling French horn and a buildup of contrapuntal intensity. This is succeeded by a tragically mournful tune accompanied by a bee’s nest of clusters and sliced string-led attacks. Taut wind dissonances then punctuate an angular, rambling string melody, succeeded once again by nervous pile-ups of angular crescendos. The seventh movement is buoyed by heraldic trumpet and vigorous repeated string chords, while the finale returns to a colorful, harmonically ambiguous ambience. The piece is Hersch at his most Bergian, bringing together artful organization and visceral emotion. Recommended.

 

by Christian Carey
Contemporary Classical, File Under?, New York, Opera

December 1: Chelsea Opera Premieres Cipullo

Tom Cipullo. Photo:  Hedwig Brouckaert
One of my favorite active vocal composers is Tom Cipullo. In the nineties, I  performed his song cycle “Land of Nod,” which demonstrates his penchant for contemporary subjects, including pop culture, and the mixture in his music of lyricism, poignancy, and, occasionally, moments of wry humor. Cipullo’s work as an opera composer has delved into topics with weightier resonances. The following two works are no exception.
On Saturday, December 1st at Christ and St. Stephen’s Church, two of Cipullo’s one-act operas receive their New York premieres. Josephine shares a glimpse into the life of Josephine Baker. The setup is simple: before the final performance of her career, the entertainer receives an interviewer in her dressing room. However, the subject’s powerful life story is anything but simple. You would probably need five acts to convey a sense of Baker’s fascinating history. What Cipullo provides here will likely whet audience member’s appetites to learn more. Baker will be performed by soprano Melissa Wimbish, who created the part in the production’s world premiere staging in Baltimore by Groupmuse. After Life brings together two other iconic Twentieth century figures: Gertrude Stein (played by Jennifer Beattie), and Pablo Picasso (performed by Stephen Eddy). The two come back from the hereafter to confront one another in a ghostly debate about art, aesthetics, and their lives and conduct in Paris during wartime. Their repartee is interrupted by a third ghost, a young girl who was a Holocaust victim (played by Sara Paar). This forces them to reconsider their lives and the meaning of death.  Of the opera, Cipullo says, “The real value of art comes after such horrific moments, helping us, as individuals, and as a culture, make sense of the incomprehensible.” EVENT DETAILS
Chelsea Opera presents NY premieres After Life and Josephine
Two one-act operas by Tom Cipullo December 1, 2018 7:00 pm Christ & St. Stephen’s Church 120 West 69th Street New York, NY
Tickets available online Preferred seats: $35 in advance/$45 at the door General admission: $30 in advance/$40 at the door Seniors/Students: $20 in advance/$25 at the door
by Christian Carey
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Garlands for Steven Stucky in Santa Monica

The Soundwaves new music series and Piano Spheres teamed up to present Garlands for Steven Stucky, a concert of piano music performed by Gloria Cheng. Steven Stucky was a long-time composer in residence at the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and his untimely death in 2016 touched his many friends here deeply. Garlands for Steven Stucky is a memorial tribute in the form of a CD album of short piano pieces contributed by no less than 32 students and musical colleagues. Each piece is short – just two or three minutes – and this concert at the Santa Monica Public Library offered a preview prior to a full concert scheduled for Zipper Hall on November 27.

A short video was shown prior to the concert describing Stucky’s academic career and residency at the LA Phil. Esa-Pekka Salonen and Deborah Borda spoke highly of his accomplishments and the warm personal connections he enjoyed with his colleagues. The video also outlined the Steven Stucky Composer Fellowship Fund, intended to help composition students who are just beginning their study. Proceeds from the Garlands for Steven Stucky CD will benefit this fund.

Gloria Cheng then introduced the music of Steven Stucky by way of playing movement 1 of Album Leaves (2002), a series short piano pieces he described as “ … in the nineteenth-century mold of Schumann, Chopin, or Brahms.” This opened with a simple five-note melody that seemed to hang mysteriously in the air, followed by more complex passages that fluttered like a flock of restless birds. A series of darker, enigmatic passages in the lower register added to the magical atmosphere just prior to a quiet ending. This short piece set the tone for the sampler of musical memorials that comprised the balance of the concert.

Two former students of Steven Stucky, now UCLA Music Dept faculty and in attendance, were asked to describe his influence as well as their contributions to the album. Kay Rhie, a student of Stucky while at Cornell, spoke of his generosity, curiosity and wide-ranging interests outside the arts. Ms. Cheng played Rhie’s Interlude, which bore some resemblance to the Album Leaves piece, sharing its subdued and enigmatic character. David S. Lefkowitz described his piece, In Memorium, as a soggetto cavato – or carved signature – using the letters in Steven Stucky’s name to determine the opening notes. This resulted in a simple, declarative melody of strong notes that seemed freighted with sorrow. Complex variations followed in the lower registers, which turned dramatic prior to the repeat of the opening melody, and a quiet fade-out. Both pieces were suffused with veneration and genuine affection.

Esa-Pekka Salonen contributed Iscrizione and this opened with a spare line of single notes that unfolded into more complex passages, tinged with a sense of anguish and loss. A deep rumble in the bottom registers added a sense of sadness, followed by a quietly moving farewell at the finish. Capriccio by Julian Anderson followed, and Ms. Cheng explained that Anderson’s intention was simply to write something that Steven Stucky might have enjoyed. Accordingly, this piece was more optimistic with light, rapid strings of notes that bubbled upward. Skittering sounds followed, both charming and delightful, as if a mouse was scampering about on the keyboard. The dynamics and tempo increased until a dramatic crash of chords at the finish slowly dissipated into the air.

Four other piano pieces were performed by Ms. Cheng to close out the concert. Steven Mackey contributed A Few Things (in memory of Steve), a lighthearted interchange between quick, bright phrases as if holding a conversation with pleasant company. Inscription, by Pierre Jalbert followed with complex and fast passage work, a fond remembrance of the Stucky wit. Judith Weir’s Chorale, for Steve was perhaps the closest to church music, full of airy introspection at the opening and ending with the power and simplicity of a simple hymn. The final piece was Glas by Daniel S. Godfrey, opening with great booming chords that brought to mind cathedral bells, then continuing with a series of quietly thoughtful stretches full of grandeur and grace.  Glas was the perfect piece to close out the concert.

Garlands for Steven Stucky is a powerful testimony to the esteem and affection held for Steven Stucky by all those who contributed to this remarkable album. Ms. Cheng has done a great service to organize and flawlessly perform all 32 works for the CD. This preview concert was an opportunity to appreciate how much Steven Stucky has meant to our musical community and how much he will be missed.

Garlands for Steven Stucky is available from Amazon and iTunes.

 

by Paul Muller
Choral Music, Concert review, early music, File Under?

Stile Antico at St. Mary’s (concert review)

Stile Antico
Photo: Marco Borggreve

Stile Antico in Concert

October 13, 2018 Church of St. Mary the Virgin

By Christian Carey

 

NEW YORK – The first concert in Miller Theatre’s 2018-19 Early Music Series, given in midtown at the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, presented the acclaimed choral group Stile Antico from the UK. They have made regular appearances on the Miller series. As is their custom, Stile Antico sang without a conductor in a semicircle facing front. The occasional setup change consists of singers changing formation and, in pieces in which the full ensemble isn’t required, “extra” singers sit down.

 

They sing vibrantly and expressively with a sumptuous sound. The concert program, titled “Elizabeth I, Queen of Muses,” brought together masterworks of Tudor era polyphony and continental repertoire that had passed through the monarch’s orbit. Several of the latter group of works were taken from a gift from one of the Queen’s suitors, Erik XIV of Sweden: a partbook that included pieces by Lassus, Willaert, and Sandrin. The latter’s chanson Doulce Memoire was particularly fetching, performed with gentle grace. The group also sang three solemn and stolid penitential psalm settings by Alfonso Ferrabosco the Elder, an Italian composer who was a member of the Elizabeth’s court, paid a handsome salary for music and, some say, espionage.

 

English music formed the bulk of the program. It included a piece from early in the sixteenth century, Tavener’s  Christe Jesu Bone Pastor, filled with brightly articulate slices of homophony and soaring passages of imitation. From the other end of the chronological spectrum, early in the seventeenth century, Stile Antico offered jaunty renditions of two of John Dowland’s best known ayres: “Now, O now I needs must part” and “Can She Excuse my Wrongs.”

 

The choir is one of the best on the planet for works by Tallis and Byrd. Several of these were performed, capturing a gamut of emotions. Byrd’s “This sweet and merry month of May” is a jubilant madrigal greeting to Elizabeth, while his Attolite porta is a richly attired setting of Psalm 23. “O Lord Make thy servant Elizabeth” is an extraordinary piece, and Stile Antico rendered its elaborate Amen cadence with fulsome power and beauty. Ne irascaris is another facet of Byrd’s art. A recusant Catholic, he composed a collection of motets with texts both coded and charged with defiance. Clearly Byrd was graced with Elizabeth’s favor, otherwise he would have been unlikely to get away with daring pieces like Ne irascaris. The Tallis selection on the program was his worshipful, declamatory Abserge Domine. I could have done with three more Tudor motets and no Ferrabosco, but that’s quibbling.

 

The concert concluded with a group of madrigals written in honor of Elizabeth, taken from “The Triumphs of Oriana,” a collection of 25 madrigals by 23 composers. After sterling renderings of “The lady Oriana” by John Wilbye (Oriana is a poetic title for Elizabeth) and “Fair Nymphs I heard one telling, the last, “As Vesta was, from Latmos hill descending,” by Thomas Weelkes, displayed the group’s vocal prowess at its finest, with high-ranging lines and overlapping melismatic passages converging to thrilling effect. Stile Antico’s annual visits to New York could easily be double or trebled: they have developed a strong following here and the reasons for this were amply demonstrated on 13 October at St. Mary’s.

 

  • Christian Carey writes regularly for Tempo, Musical America, and Sequenza 21.
by Christian Carey
Chamber Music, Classical Music, Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Seattle

Abrahamsen’s Schnee at Seattle Symphony’s [untitled]

Thomas Dausgaard conducting members of Seattle Symphony in Abrahamsen: Schnee (photo: James Holt/Seattle Symphony)

[untitled] is the moniker given by Seattle Symphony to its thrice-annual Friday night new music events. Staged in the lobby of Benaroya Hall, it’s a semi-formal atmosphere in which the Symphony can deploy its musicians in smaller groupings better suited to the exigencies of postmodern music. The first [untitled] concert of the new season took place on October 12, and featured the regional premiere of Hans Abrahamsen’s Schnee, offering listeners in the Pacific Northwest an opportunity to judge how well this work has earned the considerable attention it has received in its brief ten-year lifetime.

Scored for two piano quartets (one conventional, the other with woodwinds instead of strings) flanking a central percussionist, this hour-long piece is officially a chain of ten canons conceived in pairs. But don’t bother looking for Row, Row, Row Your Boat-style rounds. Abrahamsen’s vision of musical canons ranges from relatively straightforward imitation between two voices in stretto…

From Canon 2b (other instruments omitted)

…to rhythm-only canons, to cases where the only trace of a traditional canon is the successive entries of similar lines:

(click to enlarge)

It’s probably easiest to think of the canons as a set of ten segued movements in which each instrumental group stays within a tight-knit band of musical material. An important structural characteristic of the piece is that these canons get progressively shorter, starting with 8–9 minutes allotted to the distended Canons 1a and 1b, and ending with the fleeting Canons 5a and 5b, lasting a minute apiece (audio links and the YouTube embed above are from the work’s only commercial recording, by ensemble recherche).

Accompanying this process of diminution is a corresponding process of detuning where the string instruments, then the woodwinds, shift their intonation downwards by 1/6 and 1/3 tones so that they gradually go out of tune with the pianos. Mikhail Shmidt, violinist for the [untitled] performance, likens the effect to melting. Such a reliance on “dirty” intonational clashs—most prominent in Canons 5a/5b—reflects the influence of Abrahamsen’s teacher, Ligeti. In a particularly imaginative stroke, three Interludes are inserted as composed tuning breaks to allow the musicians to effect the retuning without a break:

Ritual orchestral tuning is often satirized, and audiences will occasionally mistake tuning for an actual piece, but there is little precedent for written-out retuning occurring in the middle of a composition.

Schnee of course means snow in German (curiously favored by this Danish teutophile over his native sne), and this hour-long work is a suitably frosty and brittle affair. It begins and ends in the extreme treble register, and its overall sound world is dominated by white noise effects suggested by the title’s initial consonant. The score calls for scratchy bow noises, the application of Blu Tack to muffle piano strings, and frequent “half-breath” effects on the woodwind instruments (which in the case of the contralto flute and bass clarinet seem to have been specifically chosen for their breathy quality). The percussionist’s job mainly alternates between rubbing writing paper on a smooth surface and rubbing wax paper on a rough surface, the task broken up only by the use of sleigh bells in Canons 4a/4b and a single tamtam stroke at the end of Canon 3b. Other noise effects show the influence of Lachenmann, most notably his piece Guero, whose technique of gliding fingernails across the piano keyboards is directly borrowed in Schnee.

The very first canon fulfils the evocative trajectory of the title, beginning on a repeated violin harmonic on an A♮ that’s so high, you mainly hear bowing noise (the score says “like an icy whisper”, though North American listeners might find it inadvertently reminiscent of a certain cinematic shower scene). Pentatonic white note tinkerings in the 1st Piano’s top octave soon enter (E-A-F-D-E is a prominent pattern), and one might wonder if this will be a characteristically long and static exposition of European postminimalism. But the complexity increases as the canons proceed, reaching an apogee in the third canon pair where the harmonies are atonal, the rhythms unmetered, and the pitch range fully extended to the bass register (intensified by tuning the cello’s lowest string from C down to G). The process then reverses in the last two canon pairs, and we eventually revert to the white note pentatonicism of the opening. It’s the simultaneous revelation of both arch-like vectors (range and complexity) and straight-line vectors (length and detuning) as the work progresses that gives Schnee such dramatic impact.

The influence of Feldman is often close at hand in Abrahamsen’s music, and it’s quite obvious in Schnee’s Canon 3b. But a different parallel can be found with Feldman’s Three Voices, a unique and uncharacteristically texted and beat-driven work from 1982 that in its repetitions, quirky metricality, overall length and architecture based on concurrent unfolding of both linear and arch-shaped processes, is a tantalizing predecessor to Schnee. It even features as its sole lyric this most apropos poetic snippet by Frank O’Hara:

                      Who’d have thought
                                                                         that snow falls

Schnee is the kind of piece that can die in a too-dry space, but [untitled]’s idiosyncratic venue is just live enough to avoid this pitfall. Being designed as an entry and reception point rather than as a performance space though, it does come at the cost of an omnipresent background rumble from the building’s HVAC system. This often overwhelmed the subtle piano resonance effects and smeared the rhythmic definition of the percussionist’s paper shuffling (both prominent in Canon 3b). But the piece would have gotten lost in either of the two conventional concert spaces at Benaroya Hall, and the capable ensemble, drawn from regular Seattle Symphony musicians with frequent adjuncts Cristina Valdés and Oksana Ezhokina handling the piano parts, managed to traverse the work’s rhythmic complexities with no trace of strain or sloppiness.

They also did something perhaps more remarkable: avoiding the temptation, especially in the excitement of live performance, to play this music too loudly, too quickly and too brashly. Abrahamsen’s bleak snowscapes, like Varèse’s deserts, are those of the mind as much as of nature. What this piece needs is not so much the brisk extroversion of Ludovic Morlot, but a healthy dose of Scandinavian reserve, which it received under the conducting of Thomas Dausgaard, who will assume Morlot’s role as Music Director next season. In this performance, the first of this piece for any of the evening’s musicians (including Dausgaard), we perhaps have a glimpse of the direction that the Symphony’s programming will take under Dausgaard’s leadership.

Hans Abrahamsen (photo: Lars Skaaning)

Abrahamsen, born in 1952, presents an unusual musical example of a late career breakthrough. He started out as a Danish representative of New Simplicity, but much of his music from that period now seems rather…simplistic. After a Schoenbergian decade of relative silence, Abrahamsen reemerged with a more synthetic style that elevated his international profile to the degree that he can now be reasonably considered the most prominent living Danish composer other than the venerable Per Nørgård (1932–).

The best survey of Abrahamsen’s career arc is the Arditti Quartet’s recording of his String Quartets 1–4, whose dates range from 1973 to 2012 (this album was one of my favorites of 2017). His recent hits include some orchestral songs for Barbara Hannigan and a concerto for piano left hand, but these works seem less distinguished to me measured against the formidable European corpus of modernist orchestral music. It’s Schnee, completed in 2008, that continues to stand as Abrahamsen’s masterpiece, comparable in scope and ambition to Haas’ In Vain, and likewise exemplifying the alloy of exploration and consolidation that characterizes the most accomplished of contemporary European art music. Its reputation as one of the classics of the young 21st century (advanced by the likes of Paul Griffiths, who chose it to conclude the current version of his book Modern Music and After), was given powerful witness by Dausgaard and the Seattle Symphony musicians.

The score to Schnee is available online here.

by Michael Schell
CDs, Chamber Music, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Þráinn Hjálmarsson on Carrier Records

Þráinn Hjálmarsson

Influence of Buildings on Musical Tone

Caput Ensemble, Krista Thora Haraldsdottir, Icelandic Flute Ensemble, Ensemble Adapter, Nordic Affect

Carrier Records

Composer Þráinn Hjálmarsson’s latest CD, Influence of Buildings on Musical Tone, revels in the exploratory sound world of effects and extended techniques. That said, his work is more than an assemblage of alternative ways to treat instruments. Rather, the technical extensions serve to expand Hjálmarsson’s considerable palette of expression.

The five different pieces on Influence of Buildings each employ a different ensemble. The title work features the Caput Ensemble, while “Grisaille” is performed by the Icelandic Flute Ensemble. Both pieces deal with an upper register melodic line that is slowly bent and distressed until it is entirely transformed.

 

https://vimeo.com/282605939

 

Kristin Thora Haraldsdottir plays the solo viola work Persona, adopting a penetrating tone and easily reaching stratospheric harmonics and digging in to sections with varying bow pressure. A flair for the dramatic allows this piece to move from pensive to more animated gestures in a captivating meditation. Mise en scéne plays up the percussive capacities of Ensemble Adapter, eventually deploying sustained upper register flute lines against the percussive attacks of harp and percussion and breathy exhalations and plosive pops from bass clarinet. The piece develops into a more harmonic terrain, with shades of spectra creating beguiling verticals.

The album’s closer is the string trio Lucid/Opaque, performed by members of Nordic Affect. The strings repeat pitch patterns that, while not necessarily tonal in orientation, encompass individual partials of a harmonic series. The overall effect is enhanced by a reverberant space, lending a naturally ambient character to the proceedings, even more so the case because of the number of repetitions of the opening gesture. Gradually, the opening shape is altered, with splashes of string noise and edgy bowing, changes in rhythm, and the overall duration of phrase overlaps developing the character of the main line over time. The material becomes even more forceful as octave displacements, notably a low cello line and repeating altissimo violin notes, are added. Here, and elsewhere, Hjálmarsson’s Influence of Buildings on Music Tone demonstrates a judicious approach to the selection of material that is then most imaginatively deployed and developed. Recommended.

 

by Christian Carey
Contemporary Classical

Attn: New Music Freak Shoppers: Pre-Order The Definitive Biography of Vincent Persichetti and Save Big

We’re very excited about Andrea Olmstead’s The Definitive Biography of Vincent Persichetti which is about to be published.   So excited, in fact, that if you pre-order it before November, you’ll save 50% off.   Here’s a factoid for those of you who don’t know much about arguably the most influential music teacher of the 20th century:  His 40-year teaching career at Juilliard included students Philip Glass, Steve Reich, Jacob Druckman, Peter Schickele (P. D. Q. Bach), Einojuhani Rautavaara, and many other prominent composers.

To pre-order, go to Rowman.com and enter  discount code RLFANDF30, or call (800) 462-6420 ext. 3024 and mention the discount code.

Questions or complaints to Larry Bell.

by Jerry Bowles