John Williams takes a bow after world premiere of his Concerto for Piano and Orchestra w Emanuel Ax, Andris Nelsons and Boston Symphony at Tanglewood (credit Gabriel Scott)
The audience greeted John Williams like he was a rock star.
Indeed, this composer’s music for blockbuster films like Star Wars, Jaws and Jurassic Park is well known and loved by billions around the world. People, including those in attendance at Tanglewood on Saturday night, July 26, love him for his concert music as well. Williams appeared on stage after the crowd-pleasing premiere performance of his Concerto for Piano and Orchestra with soloist Emanuel Ax and the Boston Symphony Orchestra led by Andris Nelsons.
Williams has been a mainstay at the BSO for decades, having been music director of the Boston Pops Orchestra from 1980 to 1993; and composed numerous scores especially for the venerable ensemble and some of its principal players. He began writing the newest work in his immense catalogue of concert music in 2022, at age 90, this one specifically for Ax and the BSO.
For this three-movement work, Williams drew his inspiration from jazz greats Art Tatum, Bill Evans, and Oscar Peterson. From the very start in the “Introduction – Colloquy (Art Tatum)”, the composition launched into bold jazz chords from the soloist. The rhythms went beyond ragtime, instantly recalling Tatum’s trademark stride piano style. The textures, timbres and sonorities of the jazz-infused score were as vividly colorful as Williams’ film scores. The rich viola solo of the second movement “Listening (Bill Evans)” was straight and somber, infused with angular and dissonant sonorities. The clamorous timpani opening the work’s third movement (“Finale. Presto (Oscar Peterson)”) echoed the beginning of Gershwin’s majestic Piano Concerto in F. This movement was the most virtuosic of the already technically demanding piece, using the entire range of the keyboard. Thunderous ovations followed the final chord.
Concert-goers who departed the grounds after the triumphant world premiere missed a powerful reading of Mahler’s Symphony No. 1. Any flaws early in the performance were brushed aside as the second movement unfolded with crisp execution, the rocksteady timpanist emphasized the foundations of the tonality for most of the third movement, and the confident swagger in the secondary theme. Nelsons brought it all to an exciting conclusion full of contrast in both dynamics and tempi.
The BSO brass deserve a medal. They were knockouts in both works on the program. From the colorful character of John William’s concerto to their mighty display in the Mahler, they shone in every which way. The entire horn section standing for the final section of the Mahler was emblematic of the section’s performance throughout.
Microfest Records has released My Dancing Sweetheart, a new album that features music by composers Ben Johnston, Bill Alves and Helmut Oehring. The performers are all first-rate Los Angeles musicians and include Stacey Fraser, vocals, Aron Kallay, keyboards, Shalini Vijavan, violin and Nick Terry, percussion. Subtitled “Just Songs”, My Dancing Sweetheart is an accessible and engaging introduction to the world of Just Intonation and contemporary tonal palettes.
Just Intonation is a tuning system that is based on optimizing the frequency ratios between the notes in the scale. Our conventional 12 Tone Equal Temperament tuning, by contrast, assigns specific frequencies to each note, allowing fixed pitch instruments to play in any key and transpose music easily. This simplifies harmony and chord progressions and has been the standard tuning system for western music since the mid-19th century. By fixing the frequency of notes, however, the Equal Temperament system compromises somewhat the intervals between the notes in the scale. Just Intonation tuning addresses this but requires the re-tuning of the instruments to a specific fundamental frequency. The advantage lies in that the resulting scale tones are more closely related harmonically and bring out the purity and consonance of the intervals.
American composer Harry Partch (1901-1974) was an early champion of Just Intonation and he built a number of experimental instruments to perform his works. Other composers followed during the 20th century, including Lou Harrison, Ben Johnston, Pauline Oliveros and James Tenney. Experimentation has been a consistent feature of the Los Angeles new music scene in our 21st Century, and the performers on this album have many years of concert experience playing in alternate tuning systems.
My Dancing Sweetheart is subtitled “Just Songs” and so it is appropriate that the first two works on the album, Calamity Jane and Ma Mie Qui Danse were composed by tuning pioneer Ben Johnston. Kyle Gann, composer and student of Johnston, has stated that: “Not all musicians realize it, but Ben Johnston, was a major figure in the Midwestern new music world in the 1970s and ‘80s, comparable to John Cage on the East Coast or Lou Harrison on the West. He looms even larger in the world of microtonal music, for his string quartets, sonatas for retuned keyboard, and other works are among the most compelling works ever written in alternate tunings.”
Composed in 1989, Calamity Jane is based on a series of fictional letters by the notorious wild west character to her daughter. These are a series of short pieces – all less than three minutes – sung by soprano Stacey Fraser, accompanied by Aron Kallay, Shalini Vijavan and Nick Terry. What does alternate tuning bring to Johnston’s music? As John Schneider explains in his eloquent liner notes: “The addition of these new notes provides the composers with an extraordinary new palette of melody and harmony, supported by a retuned piano, and in Calamity Jane, an equally facile violin.”
Johnston, however, does not overwhelm the listener with the unorthodox. Like Harry Partch before him, whose music was inspired by a lighthearted look at depression-era life on the road, Johnston begins Calamity Jane with something familiar: a 39 second soprano solo in a quiet, confessional style. “No. 1 Freely, Like Speech” is a short letter to Janey, Calamity Jane’s young daughter, that lovingly describes her family resemblance: “I like this picture of you: your eyes and forehead are like your father, lower jaw, mouth and hair like me.”. Ms. Fraser’s poignantly expressive vocals here are approachable and compelling, establishing an intimate human connection that carries through the entire work.
More letters follow describing various episodes, and these can be energetic, playful or solemn. “No.2 In Motion with a beat”, is an action filled letter to Janey explaining how Calamity met her father, Wild Bill Hickok, during a shootout near Abilene, Kansas. The stirring vocals are augmented by piano, percussion and violin, establishing an undercurrent of tension and movement. The dynamic balance of the ensemble is ideal; the sound engineering by Scott Fraser is up to his usual high standards. The vocals throughout are critical and are allowed to dominate.
“No. 4 Rather Slowly, but moving forward”, is just that, with the accompaniment in alternate tuning, There is a lovely violin line along with a programmable keyboard that nicely matches the mood for this piece. Ms. Fraser’s vocals have strength in every register and make for a solid exposition of the complicated narrative. “No. 5 Lively but not too fast” has a country music flavor, and describes a dust up in the Deadwood saloon between Calamity Jane and some judgmental local women. A nice beat and a wandering violin line by Ms. Vijavan frame the exuberant vocals.
“No. 6 Waltz-like” is a bit more matter-of-fact and describes the tricks and stunts Calamity performs as part of Bill Cody’s Wild West Show. This piece features a solid beat in the accompaniment in a lively tempo along with agile singing by Fraser.
“No. 7 Slowly” is Calamity Jane slowly singing her recipe for a cake, with most of the lyrics consisting of a simple list of ingredients. The vocal pitch rises with each item listed until Ms. Fraser is singing in a very high register, but she never loses power or control on the ascent. The movement concludes with “This cake is unexcelled and will keep good to the last crumb 20 years.” The final movement is “No. 8 Freely, like Speech” and closes out the diary of letters by Calamity Jane to her daughter. This bookends the first movement with a vocal solo lamenting Calamity’s coming blindness in old age. Sweetly and expressively sung, this is introspective and especially poignant.
Calamity Jane has all the elements of an appealing story: drama, excitement and intrigue populated by likable and colorful characters. The use of alternate tuning never seems to intrude on the narrative, and compliments what is a fine ensemble piece, artfully performed. The dominance of the vocals forge a special human connection with the listener, masterfully sung by Stacey Fraser. Calamity Jane nicely threads the needle between what a listening audience will enjoy and what they might learn about contemporary alternate tuning.
The second Ben Johnston work on the album is Ma Mie Qui Danse, written in 1991. For inspiration, Johnston travels to the opposite end of the personality spectrum, away from the irrepressible Calamity Jane, reaching out instead to adorable innocence. The text of Ma Mie Qui Danse is taken from audio recordings of Johnston’s three year-old granddaughter who, as children often do, sang her own improvised poetry. Building on this, Johnston also included some appropriate selections from the works of Emily Dickenson. This piece is performed as a duo with soprano Stacey Fraser and Aron Kallay on the keyboard.
“No 1. Sprightly” is the first movement, and introduces the granddaughter. A bouncy piano accompaniment provides the launching pad for a number of short, jumpy phrases in the vocals. The singing is agile and angular, full of the starts and stops of toddler enthusiasm, as can be seen from this fragment of the text:
“cause we go a seek and we go very boy oh, did you remember him’ he was tamer me and he had and he greet me for six hundred money and dream Mister dream how he gave me Santa”
Other movements based on the Emily Dickenson texts are more reserved, as with movement “IV. Slow and Tranquil”, The singing here is both forthright and mature, and in a more conventional style.
“A bird is of all beings The likes to the dawn. An easy breeze does put afloat The general heavens upon.”
As the movements proceed, the contrast between the broadly expressive Dickenson and the enthusiastic outbursts of youth constantly refresh the ear, enhancing the feelings expressed by each. The accompaniment and the alternate tuning compliment the emotional force of the singing. The last movement, powerfully sung with a spare accompaniment, sums up the perspective of Ma Mie Qui Danse:
“The child’s faith is new Whole – like his principle Wide Like the sunrise On fresh eyes Never had a doubt Laughs at scruple, Believes all sham but Paradise!”
Ma Mie Qui Danse is a delightful musical pairing of youthful exuberance and mature reflection.
Bill Alves has contributed two works to the album, Time Resonances (2012) and A Sonatina (2016). These are both single-movement pieces of about 7 minutes each. Alves is a composer and educator, as well as the co-author of a scholarly biography of Lou Harrison. He is co-director of Microfest, the annual festival in Los Angeles dedicated to microtonal music.
As Alves explains in the liner notes, Time Resonances is “…a technological elaboration of a medieval musical genre known as a ‘mensuration canon,’ a piece in which the melody is combined with itself but at a different speed.” Stacey Fraser performs all the parts separately, and these are then combined electronically at different lengths but with no change in pitch. Time Resonances opens with gentle bell tones in various registers. Sustained vocals enter, creating lovely chords that mix well with the bell tones. There are no lyrics in this, just abstract ahhhs and ohhhs. The tempo is moderate with independent vocal lines soaring and gliding in and around each other. The feeling is gently mystical with a sense of standing outside of time. The dynamics rise and fall but only moderately, producing graceful tides of sound. Interesting harmonies develop and subside, slightly dissonant at times. The singing is disciplined and the electronic processing precise. Time Resonances masterfully combines the abstract with the human voice to evoke in the listener a glimpse of the infinite.
The second Alves piece, A Sonatina, draws its inspiration from the poetry of Gertrude Stein. Alves writes in the liner notes about Ms. Stein: “At times, she went even further, making language into a fascinating abstraction, which has long appealed to me as a composer, as has her musical perspective of language, her use of repetition, and the seeming simplicity of her supposed ‘difficult’ works.” All these elements can be found in A Sonatina, performed by Stacey Fraser, Aron Kallay and vocalist Donna Walker.
The piece begins with a string of high piano notes in a fast repeating phrase, simple at first but slowly gaining more structure and complexity. The vocals enter, first spoken by Donna Walker and then sung by Fraser as a sustained melody. The active piano accompaniment by Aron Kallay is controlled and decisive, contrasting nicely with the expressive singing. About midway through the piece, solitary deep notes from the piano add a welcome foundational counterpoint to the continuing melody. A Sonatina is beautifully reflective, and artfully marries the text of Getrude Stein to some really lovely music.
The final work of the album is Die Stille Stürtzt (2015) by German composer Helumt Oehring. This work is sung solo by Ms. Fraser. Die Stille Stürtzt translates in English as The Silence Falls, and is inspired by the poetry of Hungarian exile writer Ágota Kristof. The liner notes explain that the text is “…the search for identity in an unfeeling world.”
The singing is slow and expressive, residing mostly in the lower soprano registers. The sound is lush and lovely, with the soloist easily carrying the entire piece. Sung in German, the language perfectly compliments the sensitivity of the text. The feeling is intimate and slightly wistful:
“The silence tumbles down in the trees, the pale forest Crooked to the earth and your white face tired, somewhere you are thinking of me, the one, who loved your eyes closing from the inside.”
Die Stille Stürtzt manages to bond German and Hungarian sensibilities into a solemn musical formulation that is immediately understood in any language.
The ‘Just Songs’ of My Dancing Sweetheart offer an accessible connection to the experimental past, and brings a new appreciation for Just Intonation and other alternate tuning systems that stand at the cutting edge of contemporary music.
My Dancing Sweetheart is available on Spotify. The album was produced by Aron Kallay and includes a 55 page file that includes the track listing of the album, liner notes, the complete texts for all the pieces and a wealth of background information on the composers and the performers.
Midsummer Musicfest at Kaufmann Concert Hall, 92nd Street Y
July 9, 2025
NEW YORK – July often finds New York-based musicians playing in summer festivals well outside the city. The 92nd Street Y’s Midsummer MusicFest enticed a small handful of luminaries back to town to play chamber music at the venue’s Kaufmann Concert Hall. Violinist Joshua Bell, cellist Steven Isserlis, and pianist Jeremy Denk have joined forces before, but not for a while in New York. In 2024, to commemorate the one hundredth year of his passing, they toured programs of music by the French composer Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924). They revisited these works at the Y on Wednesday, July 9 and Saturday, July 12.
As Isserlis pointed out in remarks from the stage, Fauré isn’t usually mentioned in the same breath as Debussy and Ravel, but he probably should be. The likely reason is that relatively little of his music was large-scale, and of these only the orchestral arrangement of the Pavane and the Requiem are regularly programmed. On the other hand, his songs and chamber music are a rich repertoire demonstrating abundant compositional gifts; memorable melodies, vivid harmonies, and consummate craftsmanship. Isserlis’s case for Fauré was eloquent, and the playing by the trio, joined by violinist Irène Duval and violist Blythe Teh Engstroem, even more so.
One of the most challenging aspects of playing Fauré’s music is the issue of tempo, namely how much rubato one should use. Reports of the composer’s frequent performances as a pianist suggest that he preferred steady tempos, with flexibility where indicated, seldom admitting extravagances. This became even more true in his late performances, where profound hearing loss meant that coordination with collaborators became all the more important.
In their renditions of the Violin Sonata No. 1 in A Major, Opus 13, Bell and Denk proved that one can be amply expressive without excessive rubato. Their version of the sonata presented its many beautiful tunes and intricate phrasing with both detailed attention and luminous warmth. Its soaring first theme is tempting to exaggerate in the aforementioned manner. Bell instead played expressively, never overdoing it. The audience at the Y couldn’t restrain themselves from bursting into applause after the conclusion of the first movement, enthusiasm trumping any worries about a faux pas. Fauré was ambidextrous, and even when they are not virtuosic, his piano parts can prove challenging. Denk enjoys a good challenge, and he inhabits Fauré’s music with estimable suavity. The sense of ensemble reminded one that these are avid chamber musicians who, by long association, are attuned to one another with razor focus. The second and third movements were no less impressive, and the applause after the entire work’s conclusion was no less resounding.
Isserlis joined Denk for a duo version of the Barcarolle in F-sharp Minor, Opus 66. The cellist has performed Fauré’s Cello Sonata with Denk, but on this evening he contented himself with arrangements of some of the composer’s best-loved piano pieces, their melodies underscored by the addition of cello. In the second half, he also performed the Sicilienne, Opus 78, and Berceuse, Opus 16. The pieces recast in this way underscore memorable melodies, and elsewhere resonant bass notes are doubled and thereby amplified. Denk made sure that the piano, despite inherently different attack and decay profiles from the cello, was in sync with the string instrument, making for a beautiful blended sound.
Photo: Michael Priest.
Duval and Teh Engstroem performed with the trio in the Piano Quintet No. 1 in D minor, Opus 89. The resulting group had a simpatico interaction, its opening allegro movement’s interlacing lines being given particular attention, and throughout a buoyant sense of phrasing. D minor is often used in funereal contexts, the Mozart Requiem and Bach’s D minor Toccata for solo violin to name two. Even in its lyrical slow movement, Fauré’s Piano Quintet never seems to plumb dolorous depths. Instead, the piece feels like a dramatic journey that seldom loses hope for a destination. The concluding third movement was an ample payoff. Instead of ending in minor, it is in D major, with its main theme principally scalar in design. There are little modal inflections around the edges, imparting an impressionist ambience. The performance itself was effusive and unerring, with pinpoint execution of complexly overlapping entrances, thoughtfully nuanced dynamics, and rousing tutti passages. Its close was triumphal in character.
There may not be many hits among Fauré’s orchestral works, but the quintet is chamber music writ large. It is an ambitious piece cast in three sizable movements that clocks in at around a half hour in duration. The composer took great pains to create the version that audiences hear today, starting it around 1887 and taking nearly twenty years to finalize the score. He wrote a second in C minor, completed in 1921, and they both have set a high standard for the genre. The Y’s Midsummer Musicfest fete of Fauré did well by him, and one hopes that it doesn’t take an anniversary year for further championing of this fine composer.
Cold Blue Music has announced the release of Plain Songs: “Love Comes Quietly”:(after Robert Creeley), a new CD album by composer Peter Garland. As the title explains, Plain Songs consists of seven movements of pipe organ music inspired by the poetry of Robert Creeley. The album artfully blends the simple plainsong traditions of the early church with the later development of the pipe organ. Peter Garland is quoted in the liner notes: “I wanted to write an organ piece that would be intimate and mostly quiet, emphasizing the nature of the organ as a wind instrument capable of long, sustaining tones. I wanted the musical textures to be open and transparent.” Organist Carson Cooman commissioned this work and here performs Plain Songs, including the selection of stops that create the textural and timbral context for each movement.
The historical form of plainsong is the chanted liturgy of the early Western Church and by the ninth century was the prevailing form of music sung in the Latin Mass. It is monophonic, unmetered and typically unaccompanied, yet the emotional force of plainsong chant remains undiminished over the centuries. The later development of the pipe organ adds the possibilities of harmony, color and nuance to church music. From venerable musical materials, Garland has brilliantly created a powerful work that quiets the restless soul.
“Movement 1”, the first track of the album, immediately demonstrates how Garland has artfully mixed the historical traditions of plainsong and pipe organ. The piece opens with a range of soft, flute tones, starting deep in the bass register and rising upwards into the treble. The tempo is deliberate and the notes are generally sustained, creating an engaging series of slowly changing harmonies. The feeling is introspective and reserved; there is none of the fancy keyboard technique from, say, the Baroque. “Movement 1” could be a comforting prelude to a memorial service. In much of Plain Songs the pipe organ is acting as a synthesizer with the graceful unfolding of beautiful chords that vary in timbre and color.
“Movement 2” has a sunny feel with the notes heard primarily in the higher registers. The chords are thinner and the sounds are sharper, suggesting a sense of purpose. There is more boldness in the stop selection. Again, there are no fast tempos or complex technique; this music moves within a more restrained perspective. “Movement 3 – Variations on ‘Lament on the Death of Charlemagne” has an early medieval feeling. There is more movement in the notes and the suggestion of a warm melody in the middle registers. A soaring, repeating phrase breaks out above – like an arcing ray of light blazing across the moving melody below. A suitable tribute to the first Holy Roman Emperor.
The other tracks follow a similar pattern – moderate tempo, solid chords and engaging timbral variations. “Movement 4” brings a light, refreshing feel with sharp, bright chords in the middle registers. Darker notes below make for a good contrast but overall there is a sense of confidence and hope. Towards the middle of this movement the entry of flute stop tones thins the texture while adding new forward energy. A return to the opening timbral mix completes the piece with a satisfying structural closure. “Movement 5 – The Maze of Longing” features a procession of high, bell-like tones with an independent string of lower notes in gentle counterpoint below. The result is both comforting and hopeful. “Movement 6” begins with a series of broadly rising arpeggios that evoke the image of summer flowers reaching to the sun. The arpeggios then reverse direction, falling in pitch to create a more reserved and introspective feeling. The moderate tempo and rhythms propel the piece resolutely forward, but without haste or stridency.
“Movement 7 “Stone./ like stillness” completes the album with solid chords forming a declarative melody. There is a noble feeling to this and a sense of royal presence. At times the sounds even suggest a bright fanfare. Strong notes in the lower registers add a foundation of gravitas while flute tones in the upper registers add to the regal feeling. The last half of this movement has a very big sound, filling the ear with powerful, full chords. There is a palpable sense of the majestic, even as the piece winds down to softer sustained tones at the finish.
In Plain Songs, Peter Garland has brilliantly combined the simplicity of plainsong with the harmonic and timbral possibilities inherent in the pipe organ. Often the most compelling music is the result of simple musical materials carefully crafted to evoke deep emotion. The works of Pauline Oliveros come to mind, as do many others. We tend to think of plainsong as being limited by the early medieval imagination and that subsequent historical developments have ‘improved’ the art. Plain Songs offers a compelling counter to this view. Too often the clutter created by the ever increasing complexity of performance obscures the profound message in the underlying music. In Plain Songs, Peter Garland has given us a more direct musical connection to the emotional support we are longing for in this uncertain age.
Plain Songs: “Love Comes Quietly”:(after Robert Creeley), is available directly from Cold Blue Music and Bandcamp, as well as numerous CD retailers.
Terry Riley turns ninety years old today! Happy birthday from us all at Sequenza 21!
Today, our friends at Red Hot Org are sharing a raga performance by Terry Riley and Sara Miyamoto. A teaser track, it will serve as the b-side for a July release by Kronos Quartet.Both Riley’s raga and the pieces on the a-side are written as anti-nuclear war messages.
Riley is entitled to rest on his laurels, but he is instead remaining an advocate for peace. Thank you for this present, Terry, on your birthday no less!
The Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Yannick Nézet-Séguin, Music Director and Conductor
Angel Blue, Soprano
Carnegie Hall, April 18, 2025
Published on Sequenza 21
By Christian Carey
NEW YORK – Virtually since its inception, the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Met Orchestra for short, has given concerts alongside its main role accompanying operas. For over a hundred years, this has allowed the ensemble to stretch itself, performing vocal works, unstaged or semi-staged operas, repertoire staples, and several premieres. Yannick Nézet-Séguin has relished the opportunity to work with the musicians in this capacity. On Wednesday night, the Met Orchestra premiered a suite from Fire Up in My Bones, an opera staged at the Met by Terence Blanchard. They also performed pieces by Carnegie Hall’s current Debs Composer Chair Gabriela Ortiz, Leonard Bernstein, and Antonin Dvořák.
Ortiz’s piece, Antrópolis (2018, revised 2019), was an ebullient opener, recalling the various nightclubs the composer had frequented during her youthful years in Mexico City. The piece is a showcase for percussion, with varied dance rhythms, ranging from mambo and rumba to incipient techno, articulated by timpani soloist Parker Lee and the rest of the percussion cohort.
Symphony No. 1, “Jeremiah,” (1942), was written when Bernstein was twenty-three. Its directness of expression betrays a bit of naivete that makes it somewhat less compelling than his musical theater pieces of the forties. Still, the orchestration demonstrates an impressive grasp of mid-twentieth century music, both the Americana style of Aaron Copland and Roy Harris, and the neoclassical music of Stravinsky, who seems to loom large over the piece. Mahler, a composer for whom Bernstein, throughout his career, advocated strongly, serves as another touchstone, particularly in the inclusion of a soprano soloist in the final movement of Jeremiah. The texts are taken from the Hebrew Bible book “The Lamentations of Jeremiah,” selected to analogize the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem with the plight of Jewish people in Europe under the Nazi regime.
Soprano Angel Blue, standing on a platform in the midst of the orchestra, declaimed the music with an authoritative demeanor that underscored its mournful message, singing with flawless legato and rich tone. Here and elsewhere, Nézet-Séguin was a commanding presence, underscoring the rhythmic vitality of the piece’s earlier mixed meter sections only to build it to a stirring climax by the symphony’s conclusion.
Terence Blanchard’s opera Fire Up in My Bones was staged with jazz musicians, including Blanchard, participating. He created a suite of music from the opera with the Met Orchestra’s forces, sans additional musicians, in mind. Apart from an interlude depicting the sounds of a chicken processing plant, which includes syncopated percussion in playful fashion, Blanchard instead presents the opera’s powerful thematic material depicting human struggle. Charles M. Blow’s memoir, in which, among other experiences, he discusses being abused as a child and coming to terms with his homosexuality, is a compelling story, and the arias from Fire Up in My Bones provide it with the gravitas it deserves. The suite presents selections from these set pieces in sweeping melodies that are romantic in scope. The harmony sits astride Mahlerian late tonality and a fluid use of jazz vocabulary, ending on a charged chord rife with dissonant extensions. Blanchard’s scoring is fluent in a variety of idioms, and even if the suite only tells part of Fire Up in My Bones’s musical story, it is replete with well-paced dramatic contrasts.
The concert concluded with one of the most beloved pieces by Dvořák, his Symphony No. 9, “From the New World.” It was written in 1893, during his extended visit to the United States. Dvořák advocated for composers from the United States to explore their own nation’s folk music, mining it for material, just as he did with vernacular Czech music. Viewing the music of native Americans and spirituals as the most consummately authentic folk music in the US, he recommended that their works be collected and employed by the predominantly white male students who were his composition pupils in New York. One can argue about the authenticity of this practice through a contemporary lens, but it certainly made an impression on US composers of that generation and successive ones.
Musicologists love debating the derivation of the materials Dvořák used in the New World Symphony. He insisted that there were no direct quotations in the piece. Apart from the rhythm of a tom-tom drum, that is likely the case, although its most famous tune, the achingly beautiful theme from its second movement, was later used to create a spiritual-styled song. Much of the music sounds like it could just as easily have been written while Dvořák was in Europe. Whatever the pedigree of its sources, the Ninth Symphony is a fantastic piece and the Met Orchestra performed it gloriously.
Nézet-Séguin approached the piece in energetic fashion, allowing it to speak for itself mostly in tempo rather than using too much rubato. This returned a sense of balance to the phrasal and rhythmic construction of a piece that can, upon occasion, seem schmaltzy in its presentation. The sections of the aforementioned second movement that called for pliable moments seemed all the more noteworthy as a result. This was abetted by superlative playing from the winds and brass, particularly Pedro R. Díaz, who performed the English horn solo in eloquently beautiful fashion. The strings had many moments to shine as well, playing the theme of the scherzo, marked molto vivace, with rhythmically incisive élan. The blend in tutti sections was impressive as well.
While there were no pains to overstate it, the program was nicely tied together by the Symphony “From the New World.” Each composer in their own way explored the cultural and musical traditions that resonated with them. Ortiz’s Latin dance, Bernstein’s Jewish liturgical references and tropes on folk music, and Blanchard’s jazz chords, however different they sounded, came from a place of deep cultural resonance for each respective composer. Thus, the Met Orchestra’s concert was both diverse in its offerings and well curated. A memorable evening of music.
Keith Jarrett turned eighty on May 8th, 2025, and to fete him, ECM Records has released New Vienna, a solo piano concert recorded on his last tour, in 2016, at the Goldener Saal, Musik Verein in the Austrian city. A previous recording, The Vienna Concert, recorded in 1991 and released in 2000,was also a solo outing by Jarrett, at the Staatsoper. It has been cherished by many listeners as a particularly fine example among the many live appearances by Jarrett that have been documented and released. New Vienna is a worthy successor.
As is the case with all of Jarrett’s concerts, the pianist incorporates a cornucopia of styles: free jazz, blues and gospel-tinged ballads, various traditional jazz genres, and neo-classicism. “Part I” uses the language of modern jazz as a vehicle for virtuosity, with cascading arpeggios and muscular clusters set alongside thrumming bass register oscillations. There’s also a hint of acknowledgement of Arnold Schoenberg’s early atonal piano pieces, and “Part II” begins like Farben from “Five Pieces for Orchestra” before moving towards a blues-based harmonic vocabulary (more about Schoenberg later). Jarrett revels in the spontaneity engendered by juxtaposition, and here modernity and the vernacular, two seeming opposites, are set side by side. Ultimately, the different vocabularies blend and synthetic scales bridge the distance between them. All the while, Jarrett’s playing is detailed, vibrant, and assured.
“Part III” opens with a rambunctious ostinato in the bass that soon is joined by fluid hard bop soloing. Jarrett may enjoy exploring free play, but his jazz bona fides are well intact here. In “Part IV,” the pianist performs in the spiritual ballad vein that is one of his calling cards. Given that he would soon step away from giving concerts, the arresting nature of his playing here seems even more poignant. On “Part V,” Jarrett remains in a slow tempo, with limpid runs over changes that move through a series of keys. The patterning may be familiar to jazz aficionados, but the touch, delivery, and fluidity of the performance affords it an eminently assured character. Partway through, there is a shift to a standard-worthy melody. The modulatory character is resumed, with the tune parsed and segmented until a solo turn that combines it with scalar passages from the outset. The extraordinarily detailed inflections here belie the sequential character of much of the music.
The title “New Vienna” also seems to be a bit of a pun, as Jarrett has noted in interviews his connection of the city with its past, namely the history of “new” music from approximately a century ago, created by the Second Viennese School of composers: Schoenberg, Alban Berg, and Anton Webern. The affinity for this modernist movement is explored in the concert. Dodecaphony (12-tone writing) is well represented by “Part VI,” which includes a thorough distillation of Schoenberg’s writing into an eight and a half minute long section that is also contrapuntal in design. It is a hat-tip that the audience gets and responds to with enthusiastic applause. Imagine if there were other crowds who would recognize and appreciate an original riff on Schoenberg.
From Part VI, he goes right into a bluesy modal jazz improvisation in “Part VII,” using a descending lamento bass-line to impart a mournful cast. The piece moves to a major key and briefly is reminiscent of the shuffle patterns that are Randy Newman’s stock in trade.
There is a return to the blues in “Part VIII,” the pianist playing in an ambling medium tempo yet soaring time and again with vivacious solos. The closest to idiomatic that Jarrett hews, the section is also an entertaining showcase for this style of playing. “Part IX,” which closes the concert proper, takes on a triumphally funky character.
For an encore, Jarrett plays a chestnut, Arlen and Harburg’s “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” in a slow rendition that begins mid-bridge. A song that can become overly sentimental quickly, Jarrett manages it tastefully, wringing the most out of the tune without slipping into the bathetic, using substitute chords and countermelodies to turn the performance into an elaborate valediction.
In 2018, Jarrett’s health caused him to retire. One is grateful that excellent recordings were made of his final live appearances, and doubly grateful that he is around to see his eightieth birthday celebrated with this memorable release.
Boston Modern Orchestra Project, Gil Rose, conductor
Dalit Warshaw (b. 1974) is a multi-threat artist. As a composer and pianist, she has created a distinguished career. Her first orchestra piece was commissioned when she was eight years old, and this prodigious distinction has been followed by a body of work that encompasses music for orchestra, chamber ensembles, vocalists, choruses, and Letters of Mademoiselle (2018), a staged song cycle for the talented soprano Nancy Allen Lundy.
The theremin has become an important part of her work. Warshaw has performed the instrument in high profile settings, including appearances with the New York Philharmonic. Sirens is a recording of her theremin concerto and two other orchestral pieces, performed by the Boston Modern Orchestra Project, conducted by Gil Rose.
Responses (2016) is a triptych that reflects upon three of Brahms’s Intermezzos, piano repertoire that Warshaw has studied. Originally composed for solopiano and performed by Warshaw, it has been transformed into a work for large forces that sounds idiomatic in its instrumental writing. Indeed, Warshaw’s orchestration deftly captures both the sehnsucht of romanticism and her own aesthetic, which encompasses both neo-classical and mainstream contemporary classical elements. While the pieces themselves are earnestly serious (as was Brahms in his later years), one can have a bit of fun with the following listening game: without hunting down program notes, see if you can figure out from which intermezzo each movement takes its inspiration.
Camille’s Dance (2000) is named after visual artist Camille Claudel,whose sculptures La Valse and La Fortune grace the cover and interior of the BMOP recording’s booklet. It is a stirring piece, rife with dissonant harmonies and muscular gestures that epitomize the striking characters depicted in Claudel’s sculptures, as well as her fraught relationship with Auguste Rodin.
The soloist for Sirens is the thereminist Carolina Eyck. It is a three movement work that is inspired by Clara Rockmore and, of course, by the singing duo of temptresses found in Homer’s Odyssey, seen through the vantage point of Franz Kafka’s parable “The Silence of the Sirens.” The theremin was taken seriously as an instrument in part because of Rockmore’s advocacy. Eyck has explored an expansion of its capabilities with the Etherwave Pro instrument, which has an extended bass range. She also uses octave pedals to further extend the theremin’s compass.
Rockmore’s first instrument was the violin, and her theremin performances reflected this; several of the pieces in her repertoire were transcriptions of violin repertoire. Thus, the opening movement of Sirens is titled “Clara’s Violin,” which includes thematic material based on her life story and also themes that are ciphers of names: Clara, Leon Theremin, her partner and the inventor of the eponymous instrument, and the KGB, whose agents hounded and even kidnapped Theremin. One needn’t know any of this to appreciate the abundant vitality and craft of the movement. Warshaw’s own experience as a thereminist and her close collaboration with Eyck have yielded a versatile and challenging solo part that belies the notion of the instrument as being limited to special effects and transcriptions.
The second movement uses the Kafka story as a touchstone, with a stirring duo between theremin and piano that reminds us of the two-against-one scenario that Odysseus endured. The third movement is a wild ride with glissandos galore, a theremin specialty, set alongside a fugue that once again employs ciphers of names as its thematic material: “Theremin” as its subject, with “Clara” and “Dalit” used as two countersubjects. The combination of these two elements shows Eyck and her bespoke electronics to best advantage. It also highlights the extraordinary facility of BMOP’s musicians. Careful preparation and the dynamic leadership of Rose are clear in the performances of all three of the programmed pieces, but the jubilation with which the concerto is rendered makes it a strong finale to a thoroughly engaging recording. Recommended.
The Friday evening concert was titled The Holy Liftoff, continuing the theme from the morning. There was a solo viola piece by Leilehua Lanzilotti, the USC Cello Ensemble led by Seth Parker Woods, with music by Sofia Gubaidulina, Julius Eastman and Terry Riley. The ever reliable Steven Schick conducted and the JACK Quartet joined with Clare Chase in the final work.
First up was ko‘u inoa by Leilehua Lanzilotti, a composer, violist and interdisciplinary artist based in Hawaii. “ko‘u inoa” means “my name” or “in my name” and is a Hawaiian term freighted with identity, ancestry and community. The piece was inspired by Hawai‘i Aloha, a traditional 19th century Hawaiian anthem. As Lanzilotti explains in the program notes: “Hawai‘i Aloha evokes not only a homesickness for place and sound, but this action of coming together — a homesickness that we’re all feeling right now, where music and human interaction are home.”
ko‘u inoa began with the composer/soloist walking in from offstage playing a low, repeating phrase that was soft and mysterious. Rising tones in this opening created a nice minimalist feel and the timbre of the viola seemed ideally suited to this warmly eloquent music. The texture thickened agreeably as Ms. Lanzilotti double stopped, sounding two notes at once. The piece proceeded as if a natural process was unfolding, understated and beautiful. Optimistic and expressive, the dynamics increased towards the finish without violating the intimate and reserved emotion in the music. The quiet ending was greeting with extended applause. ko‘u inoa and Leilehua Lanzilotti succeeded brilliantly in conveying the sweetness of Hawaiian sensibility in an elegant and intimate viola solo.
Mirage: The Dancing Sun, by Sofia Gubaidulina followed. This was performed by the eight massed strings that were the USC Cello Ensemble, all led Seth Parker Woods of the USC music faculty. The excellent program notes by Thomas May set out the ambitious intentions of the composer: “The late Sofia Gubaidulina’s Mirage: The Dancing Sun, scored for eight cellos, treats sound as spiritual metaphor, evoking the interplay of light and shadow, faith and uncertainty — an expression of her preoccupation with the sacred and the unseen.”
High, squeaky sounds from the upper register of the cello opened Mirage: The Dancing Sun along with some strident pizzicato. Seth Parker Woods played more sustained tones on top of the busy texture, and this established a contrasting and questioning feel. This was followed by lush tutti phrases, lovely in tone and harmony, but with a tinge of sadness that set a contrast with the active opening. Good ensemble playing was on display as the various cello lines began to diverge and intertwine. Woods stayed in a solo role, commenting on the complex phrases coming from the ensemble. The slower tutti passages returned and alternated with active and tense stretches. The cellos were not monolithic and they seemed to act in separate sections of two or three. Now very rapid and chaotic sounds with extremely high notes swirled in an around mid-registers. This was followed by a slower arco section full of warm expression, certainly a expressing a convincing contrast between the forces of light and dark. The dynamics and tempo increased as the cellos soared upward to another section of rapid and chaotic notes. A sudden decrescendo, followed by silence, completed Mirage: The Dancing Sun. Much applause followed, not least for the discipline and technique of the USC Cello Ensemble. This was a challenging piece, ably performed as part of an important music festival.
The Holy Presence of Joan d’Arc, by Julius Eastman followed and the USC Cello Ensemble was augmented by two additional players. Julius Eastman grew up singing in church, attended the Curtis Institute and by the 1970s was a significant figure in the New York Minimalist scene. Sadly, Eastman died penniless and alone in 1990; he was just 49 years old. His music has enjoyed something of revival, sparked by the efforts of composer Mary Jane Leach, who has worked tirelessly to collect and organize his existing scores. Seth Parker Woods was instrumental in bringing Eastman’s Gay Guerilla to the 2022 Ojai Festival in a powerful and memorable performance.
The Holy Presence of Joan d’Arc begins with a series of pulsing declarative tutti phrases from the cellos. There is an ominous feel to this and a single dramatic line of of sustained notes rises above the texture, adding further tension. There is a sense of danger and menace with the edgy, but controlled, playing from the ensemble. The many colors, emotions and contrasts conjured from ten identical cellos was impressive. More tension was added as the piece continued with dissonant and intertwined phrasing, all with that steady pulse underneath. A sudden, expressive cello solo was heard followed by faster tempo and more insistent passages. The pulsating and menacing sections seem to alternate and contend with slower, more reflective stretches. There is a brief Grand Pause, then a final cascade of more chaotic sounds. The piece concludes with a quietly gradual slowdown that leads to a long sustained tone at the finish. All of Eastman’s passion and intensity were on display and this seems the more remarkable as it came from just ten cellos. Much applause followed for the players and the music.
After the intermission, The Holy Lifoff by Terry Riley was the final work on the concert program. This was just one part of a large scale work, still in process. The JACK Quartet and Clare Chase were the performers. The program notes give a clue about what to expect: “Groovy, buoyantly irreverent, and transcendent, The Holy Liftoff reflects what Chase calls ‘a multi-modal way of making music,’ echoing the communal, DIY spirit of Riley’s In C (1964).” Terry Riley, one of the Mount Rushmore figures of American Minimalism, will turn 90 this month and composed this lively piece expressly for Clare Chase. Riley is now living in Japan and could not make the trip to Ojai, but he was connected to the concert by the magic of video streaming. Clare Chase called for the audience to shout out a greeting to him, and this was done with affectionate vigor.
The Holy Liftoff runs to almost a full hour in performance and is a playfully disparate collection of styles, timbres and emotions. There are sections with warm flute passages, stretches that are almost inaudible and parts where independent lines rapidly break out, diverge, then combine again. There are fast and frenetic tempos as well as comfortably placid stretches. One section featured a bright repeating line in the cello with an infectious flute melody joined by a violin in counterpoint. At one point a classic minimalism groove developed, sunny and optimistic. Clare Chase had three flutes at her stand and used them all. She seemed to be playing continuously throughout the entire piece. The JACK Quartet reliably produced lush harmonies as well as rough or squeaky tones, as required.
As the piece barreled to its conclusion, ragged and skittering sounds were heard from in the strings with a strong pulse from the flute. The sound of blowing wind from the sound system evoked a chaotic feel. This was followed by a return to conventional consonance and harmony, even as some chaotic phrases in the strings try to break through. A powerful cadenza full of sharp, spiky notes was issued by the flute and the piece came a sudden finish.
The applause was long and sincere, in no small part for the stamina and endurance of the performers, notably Clare Chase. The Holy Liftoff was a tour de force for the players, a triumph for Terry Riley and a spectacular treat for the Ojai audience.
Attending the Ojai Music Festival in person is one of the great musical experiences on the West Coast. The mountains, the town, Libbey Park and great music make Ojai the place to be in early June. One of the festival’s best kept secrets, however, is that the concerts in Libbey Bowl are live-streamed over the internet. Not only that, the sound system is exceptional and the camera work excellent. If you can’t get to the Ojai Festival in person, the next best thing is to watch the streamed video. This is what I did this year and it was a real convenience.
On Friday, June 6, the first piece up in the 10:30 AM concert program was Pulsing Lifters by Terry Riley, a world premiere arrangement by Alex Peh for a keyboard trio. Pulsing Lifters is just one segment from Riley’s larger work, The Holy Liftoff, parts of which were spread across concerts during the entire festival. As the program notes by Thomas May state: “Open-ended by design, The Holy Liftoff unfolds across a series of modular scores that invite myriad realizations and improvisational approaches.” The performers for Pulsing Lifters were Alex Peh, Corey Smythe and Craig Taborn, manning two pianos, a harpsichord and separate electronic keyboards.
Pulsing Lifters opens with a soft tinkling of electronic notes that evoke an unexpected combination of spacey and organic feelings. The acoustic pianos soon joined in with some leisurely additional notes. Slow, pulsing tones were heard rising up from deep lower registers. Strong harpsichord phrases occasionally added some energy and made for an interesting contrast to the surrounding electronic sounds. It was as if the listener was drifting along in the 21st century and was suddenly yanked backwards 300 years. Terry Riley is one of the founding fathers of late 20th century minimalism, but Pulsing Lifters was clearly something different. As the piece trailed off to its quiet conclusion, one got a sense of just how far Riley has evolved. Approaching his 90th birthday, Terry Riley is still a vital and creative force.
Impressions, by Anna Thorvaldsdottir, followed. This was a solo work for harpsichord performed by Alex Peh. This is a quiet, intimate piece that completely redefines the venerable harpsichord in a way that fully engages contemporary sensibilities. The program notes explain that: “Thorvaldsdottir develops a novel timbral vocabulary using six small superballs, a superball mallet, a small metal object for sliding along the strings, and two electronic bows (E-bows), which produce continuous, bowed-like tones without percussive attack.”
Impressions opens with softly plucked tones, followed by solitary keyed low notes. As the piece proceeds, Peh alternately struck notes directly from the strings or keyed conventional harpsichord tones. Small rubber superballs were rolled across the strings, sometimes singly or several at once. A small metal rod was also used to excite several adjacent strings together. Two electronic bows were deployed on the strings and these produced a lovely arco tone. Slow and deliberate, all of this produced a continuous series of unusual sounds that were completely alien to the normal harpsichord timbre, and this served to expand the listener’s aural palette. Notes struck from keyboard were used sparingly and Alex Peh was kept mostly busy with the strings inside the harpsichord. This piece is largely comprised of a mix of engaging and experimental effects produced directly on the strings. Anna Thorvaldsdottir’s Impressions has gifted our old friend the harpsichord with a 21st century syntax for contemporary music.
Next was Cory Smythe performing Countdowns, a solo piano piece based on the music of John Coltrane. Smythe’s acoustic piano was fitted with a detuning mechanism which allowed the playing of quarter tones from two separate midi keyboards. The result is a seamless blend of conventional and present day sounds.
Countdowns begins with deep chords. Strumming on the piano strings produced dark clusters of tones and soon electronic sounds are heard underneath. There is a heavy feeling to all of this, broken occasionally by some light phrases in the higher registers. Smythe stays active attending to the keyboards, strings and electronics, all more or less simultaneously. The phrases in this mix are occasionally somewhat faster, but seem to come and go without any larger structure. Some of the rapid phrases seem to overlap, reminiscent of Coltrane’s ‘sheets of sound’ style. There was a dazzling flurry of notes at the finish. This piece was inspired by Giant Steps, but there are only flashes of the hard bebop style that we associate with Coltrane. Countdowns seems to be trying to connect directly with Coltrane’s deeper spirituality using 21st century musical syntax, a worthy – if daunting – effort.
The final work on the program was Duo Improvisation for Ojai, performed by Craig Taborn and Corey Smythe. This allowed the two performers to stretch their musical legs in an extended improvisational format. Corey Smythe was again stationed at his formidable array of piano and electronics with Craig Taborn at a second acoustic piano. As Thomas May explains in his Ojai program notes: “Taborn describes their approach as an ‘information-rich, improvisational process’ shaped by structural elements proposed in advance.”
Duo begins with low notes plucked directly from piano strings. Soon, some higher electronics and piano notes are heard, all at a deliberate pace. There is a very experimental feel to this with a variety of tones and timbres that are combined by extended techniques. Soon, a driving pulse is heard underneath with a series of complex phrases from each keyboard. These interleave between each other, occasionally producing a rapid blizzard of notes. At other times the tempo, dynamics and rhythms are more restrained and the feeling is more ominous. Towards the finish, an active and complex texture is heard, with individual notes pouring out of each piano. The dynamics and tempo quickly moderate and the piece quietly drifts along, ending on a deep piano note in the low register. Duo Improvisation for Ojai, is an impressive piece performed by two outstanding talents and was a lively conclusion to a concert filled mostly with introspective music.
The June 6 Friday Morning concert was a polished and innovative start for the day, and included lots of unusual keyboard techniques that were both memorable and impressive.
