CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Vocals

Susan Narucki & Kirsten Ashley Wiest – New Music for Two Voices



In August of this year, New Focus Recordings released New Music for Two Voices, an impressive collection of acapella vocal music by sopranos Susan Narucki and Kirsten Ashley Wiest. This lavish album features a full hour masterful singing of six contemporary works, including three world premiere recordings. Susan Narucki is an accomplished soprano who has appeared as a soloist with the Cleveland Orchestra, Los Angeles Philharmonic, the San Francisco Symphony, among many other international appearances. She is presently on the faculty of the Department of Music at UC San Diego. Kirsten Ashley Wiest is an award-winning coloratura soprano who has performed and recorded alongside numerous GRAMMY winners, the Los Angeles Philharmonic, San Diego Symphony, Bang on a Can All-Stars and the Partch ensemble, among many others. Kirsten currently teaches voice at San Bernardino Valley College and University of California Riverside,

New Music for Two Voices is a deep dive into the cutting edge of virtuoso vocal technique as it intersects with contemporary musical composition. The album is accompanied by excellent liner notes, full translations of the texts and biographical notes on the composers and the performers. The outstanding sound engineering is by Andrew Munsey and Kristina Tran.

The first track on the album is come sempre (2025), by Dutch composer Rozalie Hirs. Although written just last year, the liner notes inform that this piece “…evokes music of an earlier time, with shifting tonal centers and interwoven melodic lines..” Running at over 7 minutes, it is one of the longer works of the entire album and is a world premiere. come sempre features two voices singing separately in Italian, sometimes together and sometimes in a call and response pattern. The vocal lines are often independent and weave in and around each other seamlessly in a series of lovely harmonies. There is no accompaniment anywhere in this album so the two singers must rely on their internal sense of rhythm and pitch. Where crisp phrases are present, these are always clean and punchy. Nothing ragged or blurry here; the notes are precise and balanced. As the piece proceeds it gradually increases in complexity, summoning ever greater technique. The singing by these two confident voices, however, is always controlled throughout.

The poems of El trino persistente by Javier Tafur González are the inspiration for TRINOS, a series of twelve miniature works by Colombian composer Alba Potes. Commissioned by Susan Narucki in 2024, all are less than one minute long, yet these pieces sparkle like brilliant gems. The liner notes state that “Each of the twelve settings seems to capture a moment in time—by turns, lyrical, nostalgic, jubilant, hopeful.”

“TRINOS: I. Jazmin” is the first of the twelve pieces and although less than a minute in length, it sets the standard for the precision and vocal technique that is heard throughout the entire work. A high vocal tone opens, then falls rapidly in pitch as a second voice joins in a middle register with dissonance. The singers must rely on their own intuition for pitch and timing – there are no accompanying chords or common rhythms. The overall feeling is one of welcome and portent. Although less than a minute in length, this first piece sets a high bar for vocal artistry.

Other pieces in the work are similarly concise and illustrate the consistent level of virtuosity brought to bear by Wiest and Narucki. “TRINOS: II. Entra illuminando la casa”, at just 32 seconds in length ,is intense, with many jumps and leaps in the two voices. It shines like a fiery jewel. “TRINOS: IV. No saldré” features a middle register voice together with a lower voice in close harmony. Stretches of unusual dissonances challenge the singers, but are navigated successfully. “TRINOS: VI. Timida flor” opens with a strong voice soaring up very high with impressive power and good control. “TRINOS: VII. Ven, anclemos” is soft, with almost mournful feeling and quietly sentimental. The text, even in English translation, is perfect:

“Come, let us anchor
now
hands entwined.”

“TRINOS: IX. Se hundió el buque” by contrast, is completely different. A quiet, solo voice is heard in a middle register, reserved and subdued. The lyrics are more spoken than sung, producing a purposeful and deliberate sensibility. “TRINOS: XI. Podemos estar juntos” is another solo piece with a strong voice crying out as if in sadness. The singing here is expressive, yet delivered with great clarity. The final piece in the work is “TRINOS: XII. En los hilos”, a duet with the lower voice in sustained tones underneath a soaring, coloratura voice. The dissonances in the harmonies add a powerful, melancholy feeling to this. TRINOS is a masterful collection of small pieces that each deliver an emotional punch from the virtuosity of the performers.

The third work on the album is From the Grammar of Dreams (1988), by Kaija Saariaho and consists of five pieces based on two separate texts from the American poet Sylvia Plath. The liner notes tell us that “The five duets demonstrate Saariaho’s unique compositional language, with its attention to fine gradations of vocal color, intricacy and flexibility of gesture, and a nearly overwhelming range of emotional expression.”

The first duet, labeled simply “I”, opens with strange and painful sounds in the lower voice with struggling vocals in the second voice as if forcing out the words and notes. Leaps and jumps are heard in the upper voice accompanied by sustained and plaintive sounds from the lower. Just a little over 2 minutes long, this piece is expressively weird and haunting.“II”, the second piece in From the Grammar of Dreams begins with two sets of spoken words heard simultaneously. This is somewhat chaotic as there is no common tones or phrasing. One voice includes some rather gruesome details, as if recounting a nightmare. The voices are alternately speaking and singing and often very agitated. The music is complex and dynamic, yet confidently delivered.

The third duet, “III” is soft and melodic; completely different in character from the previous pieces. There is lovely harmony in the two voices with lots of sustained notes and dramatic gestures. There is a welcome and mysterious feeling to this. “IV” opens with scratchy, breathy sounds followed by strong vocal music. The voices jump and soar as each part bounces breathlessly off the other. The two voices devolve in a sort of shouting match just before the piece concludes with a few short breaths. Amazing technique here. The final duet, “V”, begins with a series of sustained notes in both voices sung in a high register with prominent vibrato. The sounds loop around each other independently in pitch and dynamic. This produces an eerie feeling at times but is mostly strongly declarative.

The fourth work on the album is NauðaR Níu [The Nine Needs] (2025), by Jeffrey Holmes. This collection of nine pieces is based on old Norse Runic carvings (ca. 5th through 12th century), as compiled and translated by the composer. As with the other works in this album, each piece is short, ranging from 37 seconds to a little over three and a half minutes. As explained in the liner notes, NauðaR Níu features some unusual accompaniment: “Throughout, the vocalists play a variety of percussion instruments; the sound of metal, skin, wood and natural materials contributing to the sense of a vast primeval landscape.”

The opening piece of NauðaR Níu, titled simply “I”, starts with soft tones by two voices. As this one minute piece proceeds, a gentle gong sound and some light percussion are heard; a subtle and mysterious beginning. “II” sets a completely different tone. A sharp drum rap begins, serving as a starting exclamation point. The two voices weave in and around each other in sustained tones amid much howling and spooky vocals. Another series of bangs from the drum and a woodblock add to the unnerving atmosphere. “III” returns to a more settled and soothing feeling. A low sustained vocal in one voice is made more expressive by the light tinkling of chimes. Very mystical and solemn with lovely vocals and reverential sentiment.

“IV” continues in a sacred feeling, opening with an Ahhh sound in a single voice. Another voice joins in, accompanied by quiet gong tones and a low drone. The exotic – almost Asian – feel of this is supported by devout vocals, gentle chimes and percussion. “V” continues in the exotic groove and returns to the more forward style with drum raps and sharp woodblock beats. The voices seeming to chant with out words but in eerie, sustained tones. There is a decidedly spectral and anxious feeling to this.

“VI” returns to the more subdued refinement heard in “IV”, with a soft opening and chimes. A sudden drum strike with wood block recalls the mood in “II”. A gong is heard between the sustained and almost mournful vocals. There is a sacred, worshipful feel to this. “VII” continues with chimes and a high, plaintive opening vocal. The top voice soars in very high, airy sweeps. More chimes accompany. The excellent singing, heard in very high registers, is controlled, on pitch and does not lose its power.

“VIII” opens with a strong drum strike and woodblock rap. Loud, almost screaming vocals are heard, as if in great surprise. A palpable sense of danger and fear is present. Loud drum and woodblock strikes accompanied by long, descending sweeps of vocals paint a convincing musical portrait of fear and despair, This sets the stage for the final section, “IX” which opens with a haunting vocal solo , soon joined by the second voice in call and response. The voices are subdued with somber descending pitches and accompanied by drum strikes, chimes and gong strikes. All elements of the various sections seemingly combine into a sense of acceptance and fateful resignation. Beautiful, expressive singing is heard as the vocals fade to the finish.

With NauðaR Níu, Jeffrey Holmes has forged a vibrant musical connection between the Old Norse culture and our own.

The next work on the album is a collection of five short pieces titled Two Walking (1994) by French composer Pascal Dusapin. The text for Two Walking is by American writer Gertrude Stein and the work was originally conceived by Dusapin as a study for his chamber opera To Be Sung. The opening piece of Dusapin’s collection, titled “I. How many little wings” begins with a single lyrical voice followed closely be a second vocal, almost as an echo. Now the higher voice soars in a sustained upward arc with text following in both voices. The vocals bounce and dance around each other, evoking birdlike acrobatics on the wing. As the tempo increases the text becomes louder and more frenetic. A sudden slowing towards the finish provides the listener with a soft landing.

“ II. Kiss my lips” begins with a quiet clicking and two voices in a sort of conversation. There is a whispering and intimate feel to this, sung as if in secret. “III. May, June” opens with a long solo note followed by the second voice entering slightly below in a counter melody. Now the notes in each voice volley back and forth effectively. As the text moves faster, crisply sung in short, quick phrases, the result is a pleasingly complex texture that does not sacrifice the beautiful harmonies. “IV. A scene in singing” has both voices starting together but soon singing separate lines. Short snappy phrases are heard in places and at times the harmony is unusual, but the overall effect is both lovely and abstract.

The final piece in the Dusapin work is “ V. It seems to be”. Two voices in lower register open in syncopated rhythms and the separate vocal lines produce an engaging, crunchy texture. The pitches and harmony are controlled and balanced, even with the lively phrasing. “ V. It seems to be” is a fine finish to an intriguing work.

The concluding work on the album is Melisande (2022), by Marti Epstein, the longest piece at almost 13 minutes. Inspired by the Debussy opera, Epstein re-imagines the story as if told through Melisande’s own experience, rather than as a reflection of others. In this interpretation, “the two sopranos alternate between extending and finishing each other’s words, functioning as a single unit, or singing passages with overlapping, contrapuntal lines that give way to moments of ecstatic release.”

Melisande opens with two sustained voices in a delicate harmony and dynamics that vary intriguingly. The vocals become more active, with independent lines weaving in and around each other in a call and response pattern. By 4:10 the voices are singing in common phrases in an effective contrast to the opening. The upper voice is especially impressive, exhibiting a fine tone with strength and confidence.

By 7:10 the vocals are in solid harmony and declarative text sung expressively in middle registers. The lines diverge and become occasionally independent, one often following the other. The duet singing here is especially disciplined and precise. At a slowing of the tempo, Melisande fades quietly to its finish. An excellent performance of technically challenging music.

New Music for Two Voices is a dazzling exploration of vocal virtuosity that sets – and meets – a very high standard. Hopefully this premiere album by Susan Narucki and Kirsten Ashley Wiest will be the first of more to follow.

New Music for Two Voices is available in digital download or CD format from:

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