Composer Bryn Harrison writes about temporal organization and experience in music. Coauthored with Richard Glover and Jennie Gottschalk in a collaborative spirit, Being Time (Bloomsbury, 2018) examines the experiences of the three authors listening to music built in different time spans, from the longest works of Morton Feldman to micro music. Harrison explores these concerns in his own music, particularly subtle variations over significant durations. Three Descriptions of Place and Movement, his first string quartet, written for Quatuor Bozzini and recorded for Huddersfield, is both intricately organized and imposing in structure. At over an hour long, it is an opportunity to see Harrison’s vision writ large.
Feldman is an obvious touchstone for pervasively slow music over a long duration, and Harrison’s work certainly has echoes of Feldman, but Three Descriptions of Place and Movement also departs from Feldman’s aesthetic in both its surface and structuring. The music is populated by changes in bowing techniques, mini-crescendos and just as quick returns to piano, and a plethora of articulations. It challenges the listener’s attention to detail by constantly shifting between these various techniques. What starts as a principal texture may shift to accompaniment, counterpoint, or a mixture of roles. Harrison says that he uses shapes like a wrapped double helix in “Opening,” to organize material so that one constantly hears it from different vantage points.
Each successive movement is longer, which plays with perception as well. The movement titles – “Opening,” “Clearing,” and “Burrow” are each meant in two senses: the place and movement of the title. Thus, a musical opening may introduce material that brings one into the piece’s orbit; an opening also can be of a door, or a mind. Harrison suggests similar dualities for “Clearing” and “Burrow.” When each movement’s central process has been worked out, it ends with surprising suddenness.
The Bozzini Quartet are a perfect ensemble for the challenges of Harrison’s score, its demanding specificity of expression, dynamics, and rhythm. Cascading entrances and myriad bowing techniques and articulations are delivered crisply, with abundant clarity. The work’s sinuous chromaticism is rendered with admirably spot-on tuning.
Three Descriptions of Place and Movement is Harrison’s most successful and distinctive work to date. Once again, Huddersfield Contemporary Records presents a risk taking artist in the best possible sound and performance conditions. Recommended.
April the First proved a propitious date for the New York Classical Players’ much anticipated program featuring a new collaboration – and premiere – with the Parker Quartet. In the mere twelve years since their inception, NYCP has consistently brought spirit and devotion to so much of what they do, and this early Spring concert at W83 Auditorium was no exception. In many respects, the highlight of the evening was Jeremy Gill’s joyous new work, “Motherwhere,” a concerto grosso for the Parker Quartet and NYCP. But well-worn, oft’-loved music by Tchaikovsky was also on offer, delivered with great heart. And that is how the evening began:
Opening the program as soloist in the Andante Cantabile for cello and strings, Madeline Fayette, (NYCP’s own), commanded centerstage. Forthright, with an immediate brand of lyricism, Fayette radiated warmth from her cello, upheld by a muscularity of execution. Her global tone seemed born of a seductively dark palette. While lush and nourishing was Fayette’s romantic sense, the coloring became all too similar at times. One hankered for more variety in sonority, extracted from the piano end of the dynamic spectrum. Brighter hues too, would have enhanced an admittedly emotionally satisfying reading. Conductor Dongmin Kim guided the chamber orchestra deftly, ever sensitive to Fayette’s richly etched lines. Notably, Tchaikovsky’s moments of silence were realized expertly by Fayette, aided again by the orchestra’s soft touch. At times it seemed as though conductor Kim was a little too aloof and might well have taken opportunity to invigorate the proceedings with contrasting textures and inner accompaniment parts, especially from the upper strings.
Photo credit: New York Classical Players
From the start, it was apparent that NYCP has an affinity for Tchaikovsky and such canonic works remain a hallmark of their repertoire. The second Tchaikovsky item on the program was the irresistible Serenade for Strings of 1880. It can easily be observed that the New York Classical Players straddle two worlds: that of a high-level ensemble who don’t really need a conductor, and that of the effortless sinfonietta who follow their leader with attentive skill and palpable delight. NYCP’s performance of the Serenade threw both spheres into sharp relief.
From the outset of Movement 1, this “Pezzo in forma di sonatina” bristled forth with an excess of springtide energy and conviction. Every single player was committed to the sum of the parts and proved adept at sweeping, upsprung passages. The full-blooded fortes were ever impressive, generous in their tonal production. The orchestra seemed less able to dig into the finer work of textural detail and soft timbres; refined aspects of blending were, at times, problematic. Nevertheless, moments of delicacy and whispered tunefulness were gloriously realized in the third movement, the Élégie.
In what has come to be earmarked as a personal work from Tchaikovsky, the Serenade’s folksy tendencies were cleverly enlightened by NYCP. At times, the spirit of Dvorak came to mind, as dance elements and rhythmic physicality were exemplified by the orchestra, flattering much of the performance. Kim’s conducting was precise and encouraging yet missed the larger picture. A “bird’s eye view” of this music would have been more satisfying.
A particularly memorable solo from the concert master nearly stole the show but it seemed to encourage the entire ensemble to really shoot for the top in the final movement, rhapsodically reaching every phrase with a breadth of expression. (This approach does prove effective – and often necessary! – in Tchaikovsky’s music.)
The evening’s premiere, Jeremy Gill’s Motherwhere, leapt to an earnest start, giving ample platform to the Parker Quartet’s myriad attributes. Vitality and playfulness abounded as this concerto grosso was set A-reveling, an ideal showcase for what the Parkers have become celebrated for. Characteristics of each of the four solo instruments (the concertino) bubbled happily to the fore, where divergent gestures narrated a candid mode of expression, integral and benevolent, perfectly suited to the musicians Gill so reveres. During a recent interview, the composer declared his affection for the Parker Quartet: “Writing for them is a joy, and I hope that joy is manifest in the notes I write for them.” He also emphasized his desire for “creating ideal environments in which ensembles can play and sound their best.” Motherwhere boasts eclectic source material, various in its own inspirations. Night School: A Reader for Grownups (2007) is a book of stories by author, Zsófia Bán. This was the starting point for Gill in an endeavor to “evoke, musically, the experience of reading her book.” The structure of Gill’s musical “metamorphosis” indicated itself, as he converted Bán’s “bag-of-tales” into a tightly wrought, nearly continuous set of twenty-one bagatelles. Self-proclaimed, this represents his objective to “match up the emotional evocations of the music and the tale.”
Composer Jeremy Gill; photo by Arielle Doneson
The Parker Quartet divine much from Gill’s 슬롯사이트 economy of means, transforming terse, even simple motives into a lingua franca for the listener to relish. Elements of familiarity are welcomed, as Gill’s sunny, near-hummable lines ring of truth and of beauty, distilled with a congenial dose of Americana. His carefully considered formal structures urge a dramatic, even theatrical, listening experience. Also finding folk aspects implicit to the string orchestra profile itself (cf. Tchaikovsky), Gill’s penchant for highlighting the concertino serves his purposes well; lower strings were especially punctuated. Some extended techniques proved effective throughout Motherwhere, often serving as percussive devices (ie. pizzicato, strumming and glissandi). The unison passages, while arresting, posed intonation challenges and became cumbersome, if not gritty.
Jeremy Gill’s vision of form, interaction and brightness of spirit must be thoroughly commended here. Through strength of artistic vision, technical expertise and familiarity with the commissioning ensemble, the composer has achieved a kind of cinematic, fictive musical world, jolly and inviting.
Equal enthusiasm for Zsófia Bán’s literary talent cannot be overstated. Indeed, her “bag-of-tales” might be requisite reading after this musical premiere. Bán herself mused on the “accidental encounter” that composer Gill had with her work. She likened it to “the clicking of two billiard balls on a global pool table.” And the entire performance at West 83rd Street, on this first April night in 2022, had that very air about it: a spirited, celebratory meeting of like-minded colleagues and friends. The specter of Antonio Vivaldi, with his ubiquitous provenance of “Spring,” saluted us too from on high.
NOTE: This concert review dates from a performance on Friday, April 1, 2022 at W83 Auditorium, New York
Some of the artists at the 2022 Long Play festival
Two years ago, I was editing a 2020 interview with the composer David Lang about the new multi-day festival that Bang on a Can planned for that spring, Long Play, when I realized the significance of the festival title. The year 2020 would be Bang on a Can’s 33rd anniversary. Long Play = LP = 33 rpm. Very clever! Although the festival was delayed for two years, it retains its name.
The inaugural Long Play festival takes place on April 29, April 30 and May 1, 2022 at a half-dozen venues in Brooklyn, including BAM, Roulette, Littlefield, the Center for Fiction, Mark Morris Dance Center, Public Records and the outdoor plaza at 300 Ashland. Over 60 performances are scheduled. Some are free, but most are accessed via a day pass ($95) or a three-day festival pass ($195). Over a hundred performers range from the Sun Ra Arkestra to jazz pianist Vijay Iyer to bagpiper Matthew Welsh (complete list is here).
Lang, along with the composers Julia Wolfe and Michael Gordon launched Bang on a Can in New York City in 1987 with a 12-hour concert in a downtown art gallery. The organization became known for its annual marathon concerts in New York, and later expanded to include a performance group (the Bang on a Can All-Stars), a commissioning program, education programs and festivals at MASS MoCA in the Berkshires, a record label (Cantaloupe), and an on-going extensive online series created when live concerts were cancelled during the pandemic.
Looking back on our conversation on February 25, 2020, most of what Lang and I discussed is still relevant to the rescheduled Long Play Festival. Here is the interview, edited for length and clarity.
Gail Wein Successful marathons have been your signature event for Bang on a Can for 33 years. So what prompted the creation of this differently-formatted festival, Long Play?
David Lang
David Lang Over the last couple of marathons we have tried to expand our reach to different kinds of music and to other kinds of communities. After a while of doing that, we felt like we were inviting people on to the marathon for slots of 15 or 20 minutes that we wished were an hour or two hours. And so we got interested in a lot of other kinds of music and it just seemed like we weren’t spending enough time with them.
I remember thinking – this is at the last marathon – people would come in and they would go, “That was incredible. Why am I only wanting that for fifteen minutes?” What we’re hoping to do with this is to say, we’ve uncovered all these incredible connections between all these different kinds of music. And now we really want to let people go deeper into what those connections do and where they go.
Gail Wein Of course, it’s a much bigger scope. Three days, and a bunch of venues. And instead of the marathon’s free admission, this one is ticketed.
David Lang There’s still going to be a bunch of free things, including some outdoor events, because we really like the idea that we have a wide doorway, that lots of different kinds of people can come through with no barriers. But it’s also true that when you start working with so many hundreds of musicians and so many different kinds of venues, that it’s just not possible for us to fundraise to make the entire thing free anymore. So we came up with this plan that, for essentially the price of one ticket, you get a pass which allows you to see everything and then you’ll just be able to go in and out of performances and check out music from all these different communities.
Gail Wein How does the aesthetic of the performers and the programs and the repertoire differ from that of the marathons?
David Lang I don’t think it differs at all.
We’re still looking for people whose definition of what they do is: they wake up in the morning and tell themselves that they’re innovators. They wake up and they say, there’s a kind of traditional music that’s involved in my world and I’m not doing that. That’s always been the way we’ve judged people to come on to the marathon. We wanted to find people who were pushing their fields. The difference here is that we’re able to go deeper into other kinds of communities like jazz and rock music and indie pop and ambient and electronica and be able to invite more people who are pushing their boundaries.
Gail Wein I was thinking about the longevity of Bang on a Can as an institution. Institutions come and go, organizations come and go, various folks have mounted series, marathons, festivals. But not that many have lasted a third of a century. To what do you attribute Bang on a Can’s longevity?
David Lang, Michael Gordon and Julia Wolfe, the founders of Bang on A Can (photo by Peter Serling)
David Lang I’m sure some of it is just dumb luck. But also we have a kind of hippie mentality about what it is we do, where we want everyone involved in the organization to be as excited and passionate about it as possible. If something comes up that we are not passionate about, we don’t do it. Some organizations, they just begin to think, well, we have a payroll to meet. We’ve got to do this, and this is what we did last year.
One of the things that we’re really proudest of about this festival and also about our sister festival that we started in summer, which is the Loud Weekend Festival at Mass Moca, is that we’re able to change and get excited about other kinds of things and then turn the organization so that it can take advantage of what we’re all really excited about. Everyone who works at Bang on a Can is a musician; we only hire people who are musicians. And so when we talk about these things in the office, we really are sharing ideas of the things that we are all getting excited about. And so when you do something like this, when you say this is a new direction that we’re going in, or this is the kind of music we want to include, or this is a new initiative for something we’d like to do, it’s something that energizes everybody. That’s one of the reasons why we can stay fresh, because everybody understands how committed we all are to the mission of the organization.
Gail Wein I’ve been thinking about this: New York City is already one big music festival every single day.
David Lang It is.
Gail Wein So why do you think New York and New Yorkers need this festival?
David Lang One of the beautiful things about this is the pass, quite honestly. In New York, there are always 500 concerts to see every single night. And you pay your money and you go see it and you stick it out, right? And then you say, I know I’m going to see this one, I don’t know that other kind of music, so I’m going to go see the one I know because I have to pay the money and I have to sit there for the concert.
At Long Play, we have all of this music within a few blocks of each other, all in walking distance, in Brooklyn, all the concerts are scheduled to go on simultaneously. What I’m really hoping will happen is that people with the pass will be encouraged to check out things that they wouldn’t necessarily check out because they have the right to go to that concert. So that’s our thought of how to replace the thing that we loved so much about the marathon, which is to put this kind of music next to each other, so that someone would come out of watching twelve hours of the music at the marathon and having a kind of cross section of a huge swath of interesting innovative things. What we’re hoping now will happen is that because I’ve already bought a pass, I’m going to check it out. And if I don’t like it, I can get up in 10 minutes and go check something else out. I’m not obligated to spend $50 for a concert of stuff I don’t know.
Gail Wein How did you choose and curate the artists and the programs and the venues as well?
David Lang We wanted to find places that were all in walking distance. And of course, that means that we started talking to everybody a year ago in order to get on their schedules. And then we just went to every single person who works in Bang on a Can and asked, what do you want to see? People just thought, what’s the widest, most varied, most exciting bunch of things from a bunch of different musical directions that we can come up with?
Gail Wein What do you hope audiences will come away with after experiencing the Long Play Festival?
David Lang What I’m really hoping will happen is that people will think that the world is full of all sorts of exciting things going on right now. And and that it’s full of creativity and wildness and inspiration and and that the world is very large. You know, I think sometimes when you go to a concert that’s neatly packaged and everything fits and everything makes sense. You go, this is a complete experience andI don’t need anything else. What I’m really hoping will happen is that people will come to this thing and they’ll go. That was unbelievable. And the world is full of all sorts of things that I have to continue to check out.
I asked David Lang which of the artists and programs were his favorite. A message he sent in an email newsletter earlier this month sums up his thoughts about the 2022 festival.
April 5, 2022
LONG PLAY really reminds me of those choose-your-own-adventure books – you get to make your own musical path through each day.
That is why I am going to plot my course through the weekend, very very carefully – I want to make sure I build my schedule around the concerts that I really have to see. Such as:
Stimmung – Karlheinz Stockhausen – It is hard to imagine that a European modernist classic from the 1960’s is in reality a meditation on everyone in the world having sex with each other, but that is what it is. Ekmeles sings at the Mark Morris Dance Center at 5pm on Friday, April 29.
Iva Casian-Lakos plays Joan La Barbara – Bang on a Can introduced these two to each other on one of our Pandemic Marathons last year, commissioning a new work from Joan for Iva’s fiery cello playing. The result was so electrifying that they have made it into a show, and I need to hear how it has grown. At the Center for Fiction at 2pm on Sunday.
Vijay Iyer, Linda May Han Oh, Tyshawn Sorey – Their album UNEASY came out last year on ECM and it has been on heavy rotation in my studio ever since. It’s tuneful and moody and thoughtful, and I really want to hear them play together, live. At Roulette on Saturday at 8pm.
Eddy Kwon – composer, singer, violinist – their music is so beautiful and flows so smoothly across so many boundaries that is hard for me to even describe it. The songs feel like the hit arias from the foundational music of a culture I have never experienced before. Magic. Sunday at 4pm at the Center for Fiction.
Ornette Coleman – The Shape of Jazz to Come – Coleman was a motivator for so much forward motion in music. This legendary album from 1959 was a big part of that, and it is still pushing musicians to move forward. I want to be there when six composers show us how with their world premieres. At BAM’s Opera House 7:30pm on Sunday, May 1.
And then I have to figure out how to run between all the other shows, trying to see as much as I can.
Nona Hendryx! Arvo Pärt! Sun Ra! Éliane Radigue! ZoëKeating! Galina Ustvolskaya! Pamela Z! JG Thirlwell! Soo-Yeon Lyuh! Craig Harris! The Brooklyn Youth Chorus! More! Much more!
Plus I will try to see my own show (Death Speaks) with Shara Nova on Sunday at Mark Morris, if I can figure out how to fit it in.
Whatever the schedule ends up looking like, I have a feeling you are going to see me there with circles under my eyes, as I run from show to show to show to show to show.
Lapland Chamber Orchestra, John Storgårds, conductor
DaCapo
This is the second recording of Hans Abrahamsen’s Schnee (‘Snow,’ 2008), an hourlong imaginative ensemble work populated by idiosyncratic canons interspersed with intermezzos. The first, by Ensemble Recherche in 2015, was an excellent document of the piece. That said, this second interpretation is welcome, as it brings out different aspects of Schnee. Recherche’s recording is atmospheric and colorful, while Lapland Chamber Orchestra provides a rhythmically charged and dramatically intense rendition, in vivid sound with a wide dynamic range, and incisive delineation of canonic voices.
One needn’t adopt a programme for listening to Schnee, but the gestures in Canon 1A are suggestive: pitched percussion and keyboard as gentle snow falling, squalls of wind in the searing violin and clarinet lines. Another way in, one accentuated in Lapland’s recording, is the pervasive counterpoint in imaginative technical and instrumental combinations. Followed by a hushed sustain in Intermezzo 1, Canon 2B is a signature example of Abrahamsen’s writing at its most rigorous, with overlaps between strings and winds and emphatic keyboard glissandos creating a vigorous, linearly saturated ambience. Where the clarinet and piano led Canon 1, here the flute provides altissimo lines and flourishes that take center stage. The denouement of the movement resembles an ostinato by Stravinsky.
Schnee is abundantly varied. Each movement shifts both the canonic devices used and the way in which they are scored.Canon 3A presents slower moving lines, with glissandos punctuating brass iterations of the canon. As Schnee moves towards its conclusion, compression takes place and the last two sets of canons and intermezzos are miniatures in comparison to the previous sections. They may be compact, but the concluding portions are powerfully wrought, containing permutations of many of the previous lines and textures, but now overlaid and juxtaposed to create a potent summary.
Abrahamsen is one of our great living composers – he turns seventy this year. Schnee was a turning point piece for him, and it is good to hear it encompassing multiple performances that serve to develop its interpretative possibilities. Keeping with the wintry theme, Abrahamsen is now at work on his first opera, an adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Snow Queen.”
Microfest Records has recently released Memories of a Shadow, a new CD by Chris Votek. The liner notes state that Votek is “…an innovative composer refracting Indian Classical music through the lens of modern chamber music.” The string ensemble performing on this recording consists of two violins, two cellos and a viola. The lower registers predominate, creating an unusual sonic balance and perspective. The resulting album is an appealing blend of raga forms incorporating Western medieval harmonies clothed in deep tones and a rich timbre.
Serpents, the first piece of the album, opens with sustained tones dominated by the cellos with more active phrasings in the higher parts. The tempo is measured, but not slow, creating a sense of quiet drama. There is a solid, woody foundation to this that alters the harmonic center, challenging the listener’s preconceptions of string ensemble music. The deepest tones are often gnarly, but this only adds to the refreshing context. As the piece proceeds, a series of intertwining passages coil in and around each other – serpent-like – but there is no menace in the lovely harmonies that develop. Serpents is beautifully wrought, the musical equivalent of a finely carved wooden sculpture.
Fossil Dance follows, with a fast opening that features active rhythms and nicely blended harmony. Repeating parts follow each other and a pleasing groove develops. There is less of the exotic and a more traditional feeling to this piece with a plaintive feel and a marked sense of introspection. The independence of the parts and the formality of the structure combine in Votek’s elegant and mature style. The ensemble playing is solidly skillful and always expressive. The tempo picks up about midway through and a bit of tension creeps in, especially in the violins and then the cellos. The pace gradually increases towards the finish, bordering on the anxious, until a sudden slowing returns to a solemn and almost sorrowful courtliness at the end. Fossil Dance is a refined and artful exposition of the emotional potential inherent in string music, masterfully performed.
The third track, Migration of the Fires, begins with a series of long, languid phrases and graceful harmonies. The rich timbre and dignified ambiance soon morphs into independent parts, each spinning actively in and out as the tempo gradually increases. The phrases have movement in the cellos while the violins hold lightly sustained tones above. This is all very deliberate and under control, even as the pace increases. About midway through, the piece goes from a trot to a canter and this adds a touch of anxiety. The playing is always disciplined and very precise with fast running phrases and strong bowing. By 9:00 everything slows again, as if out of breath. There is a much slower tempo now, with long sustained tones as the piece quietly fades to a finish. Migration of the Fires exhibits the same mature style and wide range of expression heard in Fossil Dance and is equally enchanting.
The final piece on the album is Bhimpalasi – Chota Khyal . Chris Votek, on cello, is joined by Neelamjit Dhillon on tabla performing this “traditional Hindustani raga in the singing style – gayaki-ang.” A low drone sound sets the foundation as the cello enters with a strong intonation in its very lowest register, almost as a growl. Even at this depth and slow tempo the phrasing is noticeably lyrical, if somewhat somber. At 4:40 the tabla enters with a welcome beat that lightens the mood and soon generates a pleasant, ambling groove. The style of this piece is consistent throughout but the details constantly change and evolve. The deep tones magnify the sense of singing that is heard in the cello melody and this seeming contrast holds the listener’s attention. At 11:40 the tempo picks up a bit and the cello is ‘singing’ more in a middle register with faster and plaintive phrases. A repeating theme soon appears in the cello and serves as a departure point for improvised variations. Towards the finish, the tempo increases again as the notes pour smoothly out of the cello and the tabla provides a solid rhythmic framework. Votek’s command of the cello is impressive and the coordination with the percussion is seamless. Bhimpalasi is clearly a traditional Indian form, but the expressive playing in the cello makes it more accessible to the Western ear – the kind of music you wish would last longer.
The artistic vision of Chris Votek for Memories of a Shadow succeeds with its unusual combination of classic Indian ragas mixed with contemporary forms, an unconventional string ensemble and a high technical level of performance.
Performance Personnel:
Andrew Tholl, violin Adrianne Pope, violin Ben Bartelt, viola Derek Stein, cello Chris Votek, cello
Celebrating Mendelssohn’s Birthday with Piano Recordings
February 3rd is Felix Mendelssohn’s birthday. To celebrate, here are two reviews of recent recordings of piano music by the composer.
Felix Mendelssohn
Complete Music for Solo Piano, Vol. 6
Hyperion CD
Howard Shelley
Pianist Howard Shelley has been making his way through the compendious catalog of Felix Mendelssohn. The latest entry in his complete set, Volume Six, contains several well-known favorites as well as gems without opus numbers. If one has the impression of Mendelssohn as a neo-Mozartean composer of grace without the oomph of a creator like Schumann from the Romantic generation, the powerful Reiterlied presents a different side of the composer, as does his Sonata in B-flat Major, which should be programmed far more than it currently is. The Fugue in E minor reminds one of Mendelssohn’s affinity and advocacy for Bach’s music. Shelley makes the case for versatility in Mendelssohn but retains the quintessentially burnished and characterful nature of his “Songs Without Words” in recordings of two of the books of this collection. A lovingly crafted addition to what is becoming a benchmark complete works edition.
Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy
Complete Music for Piano Solo
Hänssler Classic 12 CD boxed set
Ana-Marija Markovina
Ana-Marija Markovina has released her Mendelssohn cycle all at once in a well-appointed 12 CD boxed set. Where Shelley brings out the luminous qualities of the piano works, Markovina is a classicist, creating interpretations that are lucidly detailed. I am particularly fond of Markovina’s playing in the sonatas and fugues, where she reveals the architecture of these pieces with abundant clarity.
The pieces without opus number, including fragments and juvenalia, are spread throughout the collection rather than put in an appendix. At first, this may seem surprising, however it is an excellent way to measure Mendelssohn’s prodigious development. The composition teacher in me immediately thought of using the fragments and short pieces with students, asking them for Mendelssohnian completions as assignments; they are ideal models. It is wonderful that both pianists have taken on this project, as there is ample room for their distinctive approaches.
Arditti String Quartet; Iridium Quartet, Emmanuele Arciuli, piano; et al.
New Focus Records CD/DL
This is composer Peter Gilbert’s second recording for New Focus; the first was back in 2008, The Long Arch of Undreamt Things. He is Associate Professor of Music at University of New Mexico, and has a long artistic pedigree filled with prestigious residencies, performances, and awards. There is a visceral character in Gilbert’s music that distinguishes it, and in his recent music it appears that geography plays as much of a role as any of the aforementioned experiences. The searing heat of the summer sun in the Southwest, the beauty of its flora and fauna, and the changes of light against mountain streams are all analogous to the diverse array of instrumental colors that Gilbert brings to bear.
A case in point is Intermezzo: Orange into Silver, which Gilbert synesthetically describes as depicting the oranges inspired by the New Mexico landscape moving to a metallic silver, “…a kind of astral wind that ultimately settles into another of the Rilke-inspired clouds of breath.” A plethora of timbres are contained within these broad strokes, belying the piece’s three-minute duration with a varied splendor of synthetic sounds. Elsewhere the approach is more distilled. Arditti String Quartet plays deconstructed double stops with furious intensity on The Voice Opens Wide to Forget That Which You Are Singing. A live recording by basset recorder player Jeremias Schwarzer with electronics by Gilbert, The Palm of Your Hand Touches My Body is the most extended piece on the album and also its most engaging, challenging the listener to locate whether particular sounds emanate from the recorder or the electronics throughout: a satisfying game of musical hide and seek. Wave Dash, Camilla Hoetenga, flute and Magdalena Meitzner, percussion, perform Channeling the Waters, which seems to encompass more whitecaps than burbling brooks.
Standout Soon as the Sun Forsook the Eastern Main features the pianist Emmanuele Arculi in a close-miked series of corruscating arpeggios, which is succeeded by electronic interpolations of synthetic harmonic series and polytonal verticals. Thunderous bass notes are set against a shimmering upper register electronic drone, all added to the mix of verticals. Another layer, of sampled vocalize, moves the piece still further toward the ethereal. One gets a foreshadowing of the electronics, at least its approach, in Meditation upon the Awakening of the Spirit, placed earlier on the disc. Upon the Awakening, another piece for electronics and live performers, in this case the Iridium Quartet (who are saxophonists) also explores spectral series, including detuned upper partials, and disjunct yet lyrical melodic material. By the Lonely Traveller’s Call for tuba with amplified mute supplies a unique palette of sounds and engaging formal design. Gilbert is a consummate craftsman with an unerring ear for textures, both electronic and acoustic. Recommended.
On the last day of the Ojai Music Festival, the 11:00 AM morning concert featured the LA Philharmonic New Music Group performing five works, including a world premiere. The concert opened with Río de las Mariposas, a 1995 piece by Gabriela Ortiz. The title translates to ‘River of Butterflies’ and was inspired by a trip down the Tlacotalpan River near Veracruz, Mexico when Ms. Ortiz was a youngster. The indigenous music heard during that trip, the tropical setting and the Caribbean music Ortiz heard as a student in London are all combined in the nostalgic and magical Río de las Mariposas. The piece features two harps and a steelpan – which would seem an unlikely ensemble – but the mystical sounds of the harps combined perfectly with the exotic steelpan to create an agreeable state of enchantment. It was amazing how many different pitches were heard from the steelpan, and the mix with the harp timbres was unexpectedly appealing. The sweet and simple melodies at the beginning became increasingly complex as the steelpan added its strong Caribbean flavor. Slower sections brought lush melodies that evoked the graceful image of a butterfly. Towards the finish, some tension crept into the harmonies and the rhythms in the melody gradually became faster as the dynamics rose at the end. Harpists Emily Levin and Julie Smith Phillips were superb and steelpan player Abby Savell was everywhere in the texture with precisely the right pitch. Río de las Mariposas is a beautiful portrait of the alluring combined with the exotic in music realized with an unusual set of instruments.
To give you form and breath, by inti figgis-vizeuta, followed and this was an even more imaginative ensemble, consisting of a mobile percussion trio. Each player was stationed near a collection of everyday objects such as flowerpots, empty bottles, wood blocks, drums and stove pans. This began with a series of rapid rhythmic passages from each player that soon developed a nice groove. The amalgamation of sounds was engaging as each percussion station added to a wonderfully diverse mix of timbres and tones. To give you form and breath is based strictly on the changing complexity and dynamics of the rhythms and these were artfully varied so as to heighten listener interest. The playing by Joseph Pereira, Eduardo Meneses and Amy Ksandr was amazingly precise and resourceful. The rudimentary nature of the percussion elements provide a strong connection to the primal and inti figgis-vizeuta writes that this piece “seeks to channel portions of that understanding through ‘ground’ objects and manipulations of rhythm as manipulations of time.” It is often observed that sometimes the most direct ideas are the best, and To give you form and breath certainly makes a compelling musical case.
Next was Hallelujah Junction, the 1998 John Adams piece for two pianos that is named after a truck stop on the California-Nevada border. This is a technically demanding piece and fortunately two of the best pianists in Los Angeles, Vicki Ray and Joanne Pearce Martin, were on hand to perform. This began with a series of bright, rapid phrases that streamed out from each piano. Although sharing the underlying pulse, each of the piano passages was completely independent, full of syncopation and separately uneven rhythms that interleaved with a joyful abandon. The two pianos traded phrases almost as if in a firefight, and this produced a delightful hail of notes and clusters. The playing here was of a very high quality and more impressive was the coordination between Ms. Ray and Ms. Martin, who were in constant eye contact and responded to each other’s outbursts with amazing precision. Although Hallelujah Junction can be very complex, it retains a strong minimalist influence that produced a pleasing groove; the audience in the Libbey Bowl was visibly engaged. Contemporary music, when it tends toward the complex, often builds up tension, but Hallelujah Junction always retained its cheerful exuberance.
There were slower stretches in the piece, with a smooth and flowing melodies providing contrast, but these soon gave way to the faster tempos and spiky rhythms of the opening. There was a short section with the pianos in unison, a call-and-response section and eventually, a big, loud finish. Hallelujah Junction is a memorable work because of its audacious architecture and because of the technical demands placed on the performers – it is hard to imagine how it could have sounded any better than this year at Ojai..
Objets Trouvés followed, a viola piece by Esa-Pekka Salonen with Teng Li, principal violist of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, as the soloist. This was one of a series of short works commissioned for UK violist Lawrence Power, for the purpose of being distributed during the pandemic lock down via film and video; this was its first live concert performance. Objets Trouvés opens with a low electronic drone that at first seemed to be a fault in the sound system. The viola enters, however, and sounds a series of notes near the pitch of the drone, clarifying their musical relationship. After a time the listener accepts the drone as part of the musical landscape and it forms a useful counterweight in tension with the solo viola. Soon, a series of dramatic and rapid phrases are heard that must be very difficult for the soloist, but all were successfully navigated by Ms. Li. The viola passages eventually become slower and more melodic and these were masterfully played by Li with a deep, mournful expression as the piece glided towards its quiet conclusion. Objets Trouvés is a passionate answer to the long suspension of live performances and a reminder of what the Ojai Festival represents for the return of live music in 2021.
The final work of the concert was Sunt Lacrimae Rerum, by Dylan Mattingly. This was a world premiere performance and a co-commission of the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Ojai Music Festival. Two pianos and two harps made up the ensemble, bringing back to the stage pianists Vicki Ray and Joanne Pearce Martin along with harpists Emily Levin and Julie Smith Phillips – a formidable concentration of talent. Sunt Lacrimae Rerum was inspired by the California fires that raged in September 2020, darkening for a time the daylight throughout the Bay Area. Dylan Mattingly writes: “The sky hummed with a dark orange glow, the only vestige of our star hidden by wildfire smoke high in the air.” The score set out to evoke the unique drama of this moment using “notes the listeners have never heard before.” Accordingly, the two pianos were carefully re-tuned microtonally while the harps remained in standard temperament.
Sunt Lacrimae Rerum opened with the harps playing gently in unison with the pianos entering with active, repeating phrases in the upper registers. A fine groove developed that was abetted by sharp chords from the harps sounding below. The phrases for all the instruments, although independent, eventually migrated up the same registers, enhancing the differences in the tuning. This ultimately became a gentle patter, like raindrops falling in a summer shower. For once the usually reliable Ojai sound system may have let the listeners down a bit – with all the sounds in the same high register and with similar timbre, it seemed more difficult to discern the nuances and interactions of all the notes. The phrases accelerated and the quantity of notes increased so that the overall sounds began to resemble a music box. Strong chords by the harps below added a welcome floor, giving these later passages a bit more depth. The pianos replied with strong chords of their own and soon raised the intensity to a powerful finish.
There is no anger or high tension in Sunt Lacrimae Rerum, but rather a potent cathartic release from the drama of the uncertain wildfire situation of that day. This is not a sorrowful or mournful piece, but, as Dylan Mattingly wrote, “… rather an offering of the life we’re looking for, a transfiguration, the other side.” The Ojai audience agreed, and responded with an enthusiastic ovation.
The 2021 Ojai Music Festival proved to be a great success, if only because it was actually staged. The performances were up to past festival standards and the attendance was gratifying. The credit goes to the festival organizers and musicians who made the commitment to this event despite the great uncertainties of the pandemic.
The Ojai Music Festival was re-scheduled this year from the traditional June to mid-September as a result of the continuing Covid pandemic. All the precautions were in place to meet local mandates – proof of vaccination was required for entry and masks must be worn in all concert venues. Even so, the crowds were as large and enthusiastic as ever despite the restrictions and a token anti-mask protest at the entrance to Libbey Park. It was a relief that the festival was finally happening and ready to present live music.
The Friday night, September 17 concert opened with a Chumash blessing by tribal elder Julie Tumamait-Stenslie, impressively arrayed in full regalia. This took the form of two chants in the Chumash language and a simple accompaniment with hand percussion. Elder Tumamait-Stenslie sang out in a clear, steady voice that filled the Libbey Bowl with warmth and welcome. This beautiful invocation needs to become an Ojai Music Festival tradition.
Danse sacrée et danse profane by Claude Debussy followed, with Emily Levin performing on solo harp. A small string orchestra accompanied, and the graceful music of Debussy proved to be the perfect segue from the gentle Chumash prayers. Emily Levin was flawless and seemed to be playing, from memory no less, in every measure of the piece. The ensemble was well-balanced and the excellent sound system in the Libbey Bowl reliably carried every 19th century nuance out into the still night air.
The quiet reserve of the Debussy piece set the stage for the West Coast premiere of Chamber Concerto, a dynamic five-movement work by Samuel Adams written in 2017. Samuel Adams is the son of composer John Adams and so grew up in the context of contemporary music. His wife, Helen Kim, is the principal second violin with the San Francisco Symphony and his sister is also an accomplished violinist. Chamber Concerto combines Samuel’s appreciation of the violin with a solid command of orchestral forms. The violin soloist for this piece was Miranda Cuckson, who gave what proved to be a compelling performance that delivered equal measures of power, drama and introspection.
“I. Prelude: One By One”, the opening movement, begins with a poignant violin solo as the orchestra sections, entering by turns, combine in a beautiful tutti sound. This quiet beginning prefigures the general pattern – Chamber Concerto tends to merge the gestures of the soloist into the rest of the orchestra, amplifying the emotions, rather than having the violin stand apart in conversation with the orchestra. The solo passages weave in and out of the tutti sections with a smoothness and elegance that is both pleasing and effective. “II. Lines (after J)”, the second movement, is faster and includes some quotations from John Adams’ Harmonielehre. There is an uptempo and playful feel, especially in the woodwinds, and a general increase of activity in all sections. The solo violin adds a bit of tension to what is now a swirl of complex passages. The strings pick this up, frantically opposing a low growling in the double basses. The stress peaks with a piercing piccolo passage and the solo violin then discharges the built-up tension with a lovely melody line that is heard against a sustained deep tone in the basses. The movement ends in a powerfully reflective violin solo heard with the orchestra almost entirely silent.
The third movement, “III. Aria Slow Movements”, continues this introspective mood with a solo line that was both solemn and restrained. The violin solo proceeds with a slow and almost mournful feel, working against gentle pedal tones in the basses. The result is very moving and provides a fine contrast to the frenzy heard in the heart of the second movement. The solo violin parts in movements 2 and 3 ran the range from complex and technically demanding to restrained and highly expressive – all masterfully handled by Ms. Cuckson.
Movement 4, “IV. Off/On” returned to the faster pace with all of sections of the orchestra joining in to create a cauldron of active syncopation. This eventually sorted itself into a more purposeful feel, with strong gestures passed around as the soloist darted in and out of the mix. The tension quickly increased in all sections and was only relieved by the arrival of the final movement, “V. Postlude: All Together Now”. This completed the work with a suitably slow and reflective ending. Chamber Concerto is an amazing piece that stretches the listener, the soloist and the players to their limits. This was a signature performance for the Festival Orchestra musicians, Miranda Cuckson and Samuel Adams.
After a short break, the concert continued with the prelude from Partita No. 3 in E major, BWV 1006, by J.S. Bach. Miranda Cuckson returned to perform this work for solo violin. She was located off-stage by an oak tree in a sleeveless gown, exposed to what had become the chilly Ojai evening air. Nevertheless, all of the many musical virtues of J.S. Bach were on full display, complete with strong rhythmic propulsion and Ms. Cuckson’s solid technique that sounded as if there were at least two instruments playing simultaneously. The Bach brought a bit of familiarity to the audience after the intensity of Chamber Concerto, and figured into the story behind the next piece on the program.
Fog, by Esa-Pekka Salonen followed, with orchestral forces that included strings, woodwinds and percussion. Fog was composed in honor of Frank Gehry, the architect of Disney Hall in Los Angeles. It was inspired by the Bach Partita No. 3 which was the first music ever heard in Disney Hall, played while testing the acoustics of the space when it was still under construction. Esa-Pekka Salonen recalled the sounds of the violin drifting upward into the cavernous spaces of the new hall, as if it were a lifting fog or mist.
Fog begins with an active, uptempo feel in all the orchestra sections producing a pleasing variety of interesting sounds. Because it directly followed the Partita No. 3, there were definite elements of Bach DNA to be heard in Fog with repeating passages and strong, active rhythms. As the piece progressed, the density of the texture increased along with a noticeable element of syncopation. There was a fine piano solo midway, but the complex, swirling sounds eventually dominated, especially in the woodwinds. Fog, always in motion and full of sunny optimism, was a welcome return of the Salonen style to Southern California. The composer was on hand to receive a substantial ovation from the Ojai crowd.
The concert continued with Flow, a piano concerto by Ingram Marshall featuring Timo Andres as soloist. This work was originally commissioned by the Los Angeles Philharmonic for the Green Umbrella series of 2016. Marshall has been a close friend of John Adams since their experimental music days in the 1970s Bay Area and this piece was written with Timo Andres in mind. Flow is a fitting title for this piece, opening as it does with deep, sustained tones in the strings while the piano quietly enters with single notes, tremolos and trills. The surging swell of sound in the orchestra, contrasted by the high running lines in the piano, nicely evoke a flowing stream or strong tide. As the piece proceeds, the piano line mixes in with the orchestra to complete the liquid feel. As Marshall writes “The music is all about flow, and I didn’t realize this was the case until I heard how fluid and smoothly running the material is.” Andres never forced the piano passages, artfully weaving the moving lines in and around the orchestra, or blending as needed. Flow precisely combines the available musical forces to capture the essence of a lively moving liquid.
The final work in the Friday night concert program was Running Theme by Timo Andres, for string orchestra. The piece has three sections, with harmonic and rhythmic variations based, as Andres writes, on the interval of “ a fifth broken over a dotted rhythm.” The strong opening chords and syncopated passages against the bass line give a surging feel to this and the repeating cells provide a generally bustling texture. Later in the piece the rhythms in each orchestra section play off against each other until eventually a nice groove breaks out. Running Theme provided an energetic ending to a fine concert program.
The Friday, September 17 evening concert was thoughtfully programmed and precisely performed. The organizers and musicians deserve the credit for this, and the public responded by attending in gratifying numbers. The uncertainties and restrictions of the present pandemic had only a minimal effect on the 2021 Ojai Music Festival – and this is very good news.
The City of Tomorrow is a woodwind quintet dedicated to 20/21 music, particularly compositions that explore environmental themes. They first convened to play the title work on this recording. Blow, by Franco Donatoni, is a tour de force for woodwinds. In addition to the obvious association with embouchures, the piece also explores the qualities of wind, from a soothing breeze to gusts to gale force. The use of counterpoint in polyrhythms reminds one of the formidable craft Donatoni possessed – and expected of the musicians who play Blow. The confluence of “wind painting” and proportional imitation, as well as the piece’s relentless energy, are thrilling in City of Tomorrow’s authoritative performance.
Hero and Leander, by Hannah Lash, also explores an environmental theme, if somewhat obliquely. The Greek myth involves Leander swimming the sea each night to reunite with Hero, only to be taken away by Poseidon in a vicious storm. In the wake of Tropical Storm Henri, and all the other hurricanes yet to come as climate change bears down on coastal communities, the piece has psychological resonances well beyond the archetypal tale of unrequited love. Hero and Leander is a nine-movement suite both varied in texture and harmony and unified by recurrent use of birdsong (played in piccolo and e-flat clarinet) and Poseidon’s heavy weather. Unlike Donatoni, Lash takes her time revealing the tale, with the calm before the storm just as emphasized as the lovers being kept apart. The last three movements bring Stravinskyian dissonances and clipped utterances (there are connections to his Oedipus) and poignant stillness to the depiction of Hero’s grief at finding Leander’s body.
In 2003, Esa-Pekka Salonen wrote a piece dedicated to the memory of Luciano Berio: Memoria. It was premiered alongside Laborintus 2, Berio’s own work dealing with memory. Beginning with heterophonic overlap and moving to a main section of vivacious rhythms, the short motifs and shifting meters suggest Stravinsky. Later there is another Stravinsky connection in Memoria. The finale consists of chorales that recall the Symphonies of Wind Instruments. Salonen manages to channel two great composers of the twentieth century while imposing his own kinetic spin on the proceedings. Once again, City of Tomorrow impresses with its dextrous delivery and the silvery tone of its soloists. Recommended.
