Just before the NY Philharmonic concert began playing Turangalila by Olivier Messiaen at David Geffen Hall on Saturday, the stranger sitting next to me asked if I thought he would like it. I told him it’s very different and very thrilling. Just keep an open mind.
For classical music enthusiasts of a certain ilk, a performance of Turangalila is a hotly anticipated special occasion. It doesn’t get performed all that often, perhaps because it requires additional personnel on stage (ten percussionists!), it takes up an entire program, AND you have to find an ondes martenot (an early 20th century electronic instrument) and someone to play it. Although it was written nearly 80 years ago, it still sounds radical.
Hearing the Philharmonic perform the 80 minute piece, led by Jaap van Zweden with pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet and Cynthia Millar playing ondes martenot, was indeed a thrill. The music is full of contrasts, which the Philharmonic’s musicians brought out well. Sweet winds, acerbic brass, sharply staccato percussion and thunderous tympani. And that was just in the Introduction, the first of ten movements. By the end of Turangalila II, the seventh section, the ensemble was whipped into a frenzy, the music resolving into a massive major chord in a flourish of brass, strings and winds. Throughout the work, every section of the orchestra was used to maximum potential, practically a concerto for orchestra.
During the long and wildly enthusiastic ovation, the gentleman next to me turned to me and said he liked it! He described it as Holst fighting against Stravinsky, with Bartok poking at them. That sounded pretty accurate to me.
After the performance, I lingered in Geffen Hall’s lobby, sipping a cappuccino and admiring the sizeable crowd in a post-concert schmooze – a new experience since the recent renovation now boasted a comfortable space with generous seating and a cash bar that was still open after the concert.
Gamelan Dharma Swara at Lincoln Center (credit Gail Wein)
Next, I planned to attend the Philharmonic’s “Nightcap” concert, scheduled for 10:30 pm in the Sidewalk Studio, an intimate space created during the 2022 renovation of the building. Performing in this small space was Gamelan Dhamra Swara, a New York-based Balinese gamelan ensemble. The musicians gathered around two dozen gendèr (Indonesian xylophones), with four suling (flute) players and a couple of performers at drums and gongs. From the first rhythmic clanks of metal on metal, I was taken back to 2010, when I travelled with group to Bali (and filed this report on NPR).
It’s a lot of noise for the small space, and the sound of the percussion was loud and visceral. Once I got past the ear-pounding volume, the effect was mesmerizing. Through several selections, some modern, some traditional, the group showed off its musical mettle, along with performances by two dancers clad in ornate traditional costumes. Through the floor to ceiling windows looking out over Broadway, I could see passersby stopping to listen, gaze over the line of taxis on the street and hear the sirens of the inevitable emergency vehicles.
After almost three years on hiatus due to the covid pandemic, the Southland Ensemble returned to the concert stage on February 3, 2023 to perform Harmonium, experimental music composed by James Tenney. The venue was Frankie, a large studio building deep in the heart of the warehouse district in Boyle Heights. The Southland Ensemble is known for performing historically significant music. In selecting works by James Tenney for this concert, they gave voice to perhaps the most influential West Coast composer of the last 30 years. Three pieces, averaging about 20 minutes each, provided a full hour of pioneering harmonies from a variety of sustaining instruments, all masterfully played by thirteen top Los Angeles area musicians.
James Tenney was born in New Mexico and grew up in Arizona and Colorado. He had a long and distinguished academic career that included the University of Denver, the Julliard School and the University of Illinois. Tenney studied with a number of acclaimed composers, including Edgard Varèse, Harry Partch and John Cage. He also spent time at Bell Labs working in electronic music and he authored a number of articles on musical acoustics, musical form and perception as well as computer music. He taught at the Polytechnic Institute of Brooklyn, the University of California and York University in Toronto. Tenney is probably best known in Southern California as the Roy E. Disney Family Chair in Musical Composition at Cal Arts where he influenced an entire generation of West Coast composers.
Tenney was a well-known composer and theorist and his many performed works were on the cutting edge of musical development during his entire career. His pioneering work in alternate tuning systems and their perception was the focus of this concert. The three pieces that were performed are all essentially extended studies in the expressive power of new harmonic vocabularies.
Harmonium #1 was the first piece on the concert program. This piece dates from 1975/76 and is scored for an ensemble of twelve or more sustaining instruments. The Southland Ensemble players consisted of a string bass, cello, euphonium, some violins, clarinets, saxophone and flutes. The players were scattered separately throughout the large expanse of the Frankie studio space with the audience around the edges. A single, extended violin tone opened the piece, soon joined by a flute and a second violin. The other instruments followed, entering at various pitches, and eventually forming a sustained tutti chord that lasted some ten or 15 seconds. The players used a stopwatch at their music stands to time the start and finish of each in a series of chords as the piece progressed. All of the chords consisted of sustained tones with a crescendo/decrescendo that added some dynamic movement.
The pitches for each instrument were from an alternate tuning scheme and were marked up on the player’s parts. An electronic tuner was also used by the musicians to find the indicated pitch when it was outside of the twelve-tone equal temperament convention. For the wind instruments this involved alternate fingerings and other extended techniques to attain the composer’s intended pitch. The result was a series of sustained chords lasting for several seconds that were comprised of unconventional pitches from various combinations and subsets of the ensemble. Listeners experienced a sampler of sounds from a new harmonic language.
The venue was a fairly large open space and the acoustic was somewhat dry. This tended to isolate the higher register instruments into individual sounds. The full tutti chords benefited from a strong bass foundation and often filled the space with lovely warm tones. The presentation of sustained chords without any rhythmic or structural component invited the listener to examine the sounds with no preconceptions or expectations. Harmonium #1 is an intriguing presentation of new harmonies that evoke new and often mysterious emotions.
In a Large, Open Space (1994), the second piece on the concert program, was completed almost 20 years after Harmonium #1 and is identical in structure. This is also scored “for any 12 or more sustaining instruments” and the disposition of the Southland Ensemble players in the large spaces of the Frankie Studio remained as before. In a Large, Open Space opens with a strong tutti chord dominated by a warm sound from the strings in the lower registers. The woodwinds soon join in, adding to the comforting overall feel of the sustained chord. The piece proceeds as before, each chord lasting about ten seconds with some small dynamic movements to engage the listener. The lower tones tended to fill the space most effectively and the higher voices – especially the flute – occasionally provided dissonance and tension. The contrast between the warmer, lower register chords and the higher dissonant tones is more pronounced in this piece. This aides the intent of the composer to evoke new emotions from the new chords created by the alternate tuning. The playing of the Southland Ensemble was both disciplined and precise in the intonation of the unconventional pitches.
The third piece on the concert program was Harmonium #7 (2000). Although separated from the other pieces by a number of years, the format is the same; a series of “sustained tones for 12 or more instruments.” Harmonium #7 began with strong tones from the cello and bass with flutes and violins joining in their register on what sounded like the same note. Other instruments entered on this tone and then slowly dissembled in pitch. This proved engaging to the ear and produced some nice harmonies. As the piece progressed, the chords seemed more congruently organized by this sharing of pitches. The low bass notes especially acted to fill the room with warm sounds as the bottom end of a great tutti chord. The harmonies in this piece seemed more connected when the bass predominated and dissonance limited to the flutes and violins in their higher registers. The experimentation over the years by Tenney with this form, had, by 2000, resulted in a more cohesive overall sound.
Alternate tuning has become almost mainstream in contemporary music today. This concert reminds us of the expressive possibilities and the new emotional power inherent in unorthodox tuning systems. This performance by Southland Ensemble of three works by James Tenney honors the innovation and influence of one of the great composers of West Coast experimental music.
Harmonium was made possible with support from #VaccinateAll58.
The Southland Ensemble is:
Jennifer Bewerse Natalie Brejcha Eric KM Clark Joshua Gerowitz Morgan Gerstmar Heather Lockie Michael Matsuno Wiliam Roper Cassia Streb Christine Tavolacci Marta Tiesenga Dave Tranchina Brian Walsh
Elizabeth Huston and Catherine Litaker were the featured performers for Play Nice – An Evening of Two Harps, a concert presented by Synchromy and held on a rainy December 1, 2022. Originally scheduled for 2020, this concert was postponed for two years due to the Covid pandemic. Six pieces, including two world premieres, were on the program performed at the CadFab Creative gallery in the Culver City Arts District. A wide variety of unusual harp music was heard including solos, duos, extended techniques and pieces with integrated electronic processing.
The first half of the concert was titled Interstellar Space and opened with Suite Galactique, a solo work by Caroline Lizotte and performed by Catherine Litaker. This piece had two parts and the first, Exosphére, was a musical exploration of the extreme outer limits of earth’s atmosphere. This began slowly, with soft harp notes heard singly, then accelerating as more notes were added from the middle and lower registers. As the phrases moved up in pitch, the notes evoked the free and rising feeling of air escaping earth to the upper atmosphere. As the piece proceeded, more notes added a dimension of complexity that produced an introspective feeling. The playing was impressive and the shower of notes towards the finish produced a lovely sound that captured the giddy sense of the lightest of air molecules dancing in the outer reaches of the exosphere. The pitches continued moving upward and before trailing off in the very highest string register.
The second part of Suite Galactique was Hymne au Bon, and this had a more human and primal focus. As the programs notes explained: “The warrior sits down around a fire with his companions… The chattering effect in the very first bars suggest to us that the warrior is exhausted and cold after a hard struggle.” This was heard clearly as a buzzing sound created by a short piece of paper held in contact with one of the longer harp strings that was rapidly vibrating. The harp then produced a dramatic and familiar melody with a strongly Homeric sensibility. The feeling of relief that the warmth of a fire brings is present in the long runs of notes, aided by some singing by the harpist. Hymne au Bon has an ancient feel, a mixture of fatigue and wistful regret that artfully sketches the timeless image of a warrior resting after battle.
Starscape, by Jan Krzywicki, was next and intended as “…an evocation of night, the night sky and night thoughts.” This was performed by Elizabeth Huston and featured a continuous projection of changing star patterns on the back wall of the stage area. The music began with light trills accompanied by solitary notes and short runs. Drama was added as the piece progressed, with changes in dynamics, runs of notes that were variously faster or slower and some that were sharply struck. At times, the harp sounded a bit like a guitar, but with many more notes and pitches. Near the finish, a suggestion of tension crept in to the harmony but this did not detract from the overall feeling of space as mysterious and strange – but not menacing. A varied mix of playing techniques was required and this was accomplished with poise and confidence by Ms. Huston.
NCTRN V “beast of land and sea” followed, a world premiere composed by Nicholas Deyoe. The piece was commissioned by Synchromy with support from the American Harp Society. It is described in the program notes as a “solo for two harpists.” The opening tutti chord has a dark, uncertain feel and the subsequent harmonies were often dissonant but generally engaging. The two harps traded some interesting rhythms back and forth, and there was good visual communication between the players. As NCTRN V continued, a dark and murky feel developed, with the roiling texture suggesting a turbulent sea. The notes now had a more organic sound and towards the finish the harpists created a series of clicking sounds by running plastic rods along the tuning pins of each harp – all of this suggested whales signaling to each other in the dark depths of the sea. Harp music is seldom heard as a duo, and although this piece was at the margins of typical performance practice, and included extended techniques, it was played with great skill and coordination.
The second half of the concert focused on storytelling and opened with The Juniper Tree, by Rebecca Larkin. This was based on the Brothers Grimm story of the same name and was a disquieting reminder of how gruesome those old stories could be. The plot revolved around a young boy who is murdered by his step-mother, beheaded and cooked into a soup that his father was fed for dinner, unaware of its origin. The bones of the boy – all that is left of him – are buried by his younger sister under a juniper tree where his birth mother was interred. A bird, representing the boy’s spirit, soon appears in the tree singing beautiful songs. This bird flies about, collecting items from the townsfolk; a pair of dancing shoes for the sister, a gold chain for the father and a huge millstone that the bird uses to crush the wicked step-mother in revenge.
The story was vividly narrated by Leandro Cano while the harp duo supplied the accompanying music. The unfolding of this fairy tale was highly dramatic and the music kept pace with the swirl of emotions throughout. So well-matched was the music to the story line that the narration and the music became fused together in the listener’s brain. This was similar to watching a silent film accompanied by an orchestra – at some point the visual and the aural merge into a single perception. The harp playing was artfully executed and complimented the grim narration nicely. The Juniper Tree is an unforgettable story combined with artfully expressive music that leaves the listener simultaneously shaken and consoled.
Play Nice, by Eve Beglarian, followed and is well-named. The piece is intended to be performed by both Elizabeth Huston and Catherine Litaker on the same harp. Play Nice is disarmingly simple in its musical construction; the program notes describe it as “…totally diatonic, doesn’t even require two octaves on the harp, uses standard minimalist variation techniques, and in virtually every way plays nice, except for the performers. It’s actually a mean little thing.” The piece began with simple, single notes by Ms. Huston, seated conventionally at the harp. Ms. Litaker, standing to one side, joined in, adding her notes from the opposite side of the harp strings. With the repeating phrases and straightforward rhythms, a pleasing groove soon developed that was recognizably minimalist in both character and charm. The coordination between the players was impressive and visual communication had to be conducted while looking through the harp strings. Ms. Litaker commented later that she had to find her notes from what would be the opposite side of the harp from her normal hand position – a significant playing challenge, however straightforward the music. Play Nice is not only inventive and entertaining, but a chance to appreciate a duo performance in a unique configuration.
The final piece of the concert was the world premiere of {An End for a New Beginning} by Joshua Carro. This was aptly described in the program notes as “a work that symbolizes an interest to use instruments in new and unconventional ways.” Both harps were included as well as microphones, a large array of processing modules and the composer stationed off-stage at a laptop. A large three-dimensional image was projected on the back stage wall and this was programmed to change shape in response to the sounds from the two harps. The piece opened with the slapping of the lower harp strings so that deep, complex tones were sent into the microphones. The spherical image on the screen quickly morphed into a partially flattened doughnut that seemed to shimmer and squirm as the vibrations from the harps dissipated. Sticks were then drawn across the higher strings and this resulted in a series of sharp spikes around the perimeter of the image.
Various harp sounds were translated quickly into changes on the screen and the effects were mesmerizing to watch. All sorts of sounds came from the harps – buzzing, squealing, tones and thumping – everything, it seemed, except conventional melody. The extended effects were similar to those often heard on a piano, and in response the image rotated, swirled, expanded and contracted in a wide variety of shapes and contortions. The action was very smooth and the figure on the screen convincingly resembled a living organism. {An End for a New Beginning} boldly leaves behind traditional musical forms and content, replacing these with a new and intriguing amalgam of the sonic and the visual.
The Play Nice concert extended the creative horizons of the venerable harp, providing both inventive entertainment and intellectual enlightenment. The playing, while often far outside the scope of conventional harp performance practice, was superb and equal to the many technical challenges.
Play Nice was made possible by the Culver City Cultural Affairs Committee, the Culver City Arts Foundation and the American Harp Society.
On Tuesday, November 22, 2022, Brightwork newmusic’s Tuesday@Monk Space was host to the populist records recording label and several of their artists in a concert titled Ten Years of populist records. Andrew McIntosh, Rachel Beetz, Nicholas Deyoe and Aperture Duo all performed in a selection of music heard on CDs released over the ten year history of populist records. It was good to see a big crowd at Monk Space with everyone getting reacquainted after the scarcity of live performances during the pandemic.
Eggs and Baskets (1987), by Tom Johnson was the first piece on the concert program and was performed by Rachel Beetz, flute and Andrew McIntosh, violin. This is one of Johnson’s more distinctive forms, musical works driven by mathematics. The narration by Adrianne Pope explained that the notes of the flute and the violin illustrated how a number of eggs could be distributed among two baskets in all possible combinations. With two eggs – one in each basket – the flute, then the violin – each sounded a short note. Then the two eggs were placed, in turn, into each of the baskets and so the flute sounded two notes, followed by the violin. As the number of eggs increased, the placing of the eggs in the two baskets in all possible combinations grew more complex, with more pitches and notes coming from each instrument. In this way, a straightforward mathematical concept was spun into the structure of a whimsical musical piece reminiscent of Johnson’s earlier work, narayana’s cows.
As the number of eggs grew to five, 32 separate notes were required to account for all the possibilities of eggs in the two baskets. The notes now began to be perceived as a series of musical phrases and not simply as markers for the eggs; Beetz and McIntosh traded their notes with great precision and a fine sense of timing. At the finish, all of the combinations, from six eggs down to two, were played without pausing, and the stream of notes at various pitches now resembled music more than mathematics. All this all proved to be highly entertaining – Eggs and Baskets exemplifies how extraordinary music can be crafted from ordinary arithmetic.
Cat Lamb’s frame/frames (2009) followed, and this began with a sustained tone from an open violin string played by McIntosh. This pitch remained steady and constant throughout the piece while Rachel Beetz accompanied on a bass flute. The tone from the flute began at the same pitch as the violin, but was then bent slightly through a series of extended techniques. Ms. Beetz used alternate fingering as well as over-blowing and under-blowing to vary the pitch, sometimes only by a few cents and at other times by quarter or even half-tones. This produced a variety of intriguing blends and interactions as the flute note weaved in and around the steady pitch of the violin. All of the variations were sounded by the flute, and this was the more difficult instrument of the two to do so – but the playing was accomplished with great skill by Ms. Beetz. There is a haunting and introspective feel to this piece and it requires the listener to focus on the subtle changes. fame/frames provides a valuable illustration of the intimate relationships that are possible between similar pitches beyond those heard in conventional harmony.
My memories are never an accurate representation (2008), by Andrew Tholl was next, a solo piece performed by Andrew McIntosh on violin. Although very short, it was packed with every sort of advanced playing technique thought possible – and some that were not. There were squeaks, rapid runs of notes, fast phrases and great jumps in pitch. There was nothing like a melody or structure to this, just a series of highly expressive gestures and sounds. Andrew McIntosh played all this with accuracy and poise in a show of great virtuosity.
Stillness Is the Move (2022), by Rachel Beetz was next, performed by the composer. Ms. Beetz played the flute that was wired for computer audio processing, a foot pedal for looping and a position sensor worn on her head like a boom mike. As the position of her head moved up and down, the processed pitch of the flute notes also changed up or down. As the piece proceeded, bursts of flute notes were heard, like flowers sprayed into the sunshine. The sound was both airy and beautiful, producing a feeling of warm optimism. Ms. Beetz then lowered her head and the pitches of the flute were processed downward, creating an active rumbling which was looped and sustained. More higher pitches followed and these provided a vivid contrast. As the pitches changed and more sustain was activated, interesting harmonies often broke out, adding to a dreamlike quality overall. For all their complexity, the electronic elements performed flawlessly during the performance and the close acoustic of Monk Space revealed every detail in the resulting sound. The computer processing, sound amplification and flute tones worked well together and the result was very polished. Stillness Is the Move made a great first impression and this electronic configuration, combined with inspired flute playing, shows great promise.
Transgressions (2019), by Andrew McIntosh followed, performed by Aperture Duo with Adrianne Pope, violin and Linnea Powell, viola. This began with a sustained pitch in the viola, answered by the violin. Electronic sounds entered in a sort of counterpoint and this led into a nice interaction between the various tones. Some solitary pizzicato followed and the dry drawing of a bow across the strings, without intonation, added to a sense of mystery. Various extended techniques were heard with short bursts of tones, inviting the listener to appreciate the many subtle interactions and interesting harmonies. The playing by Aperture Duo was skillful and exact with Transgressions extending the vocabulary of their string duo in new and unusual directions.
The final piece of the concert was Nebula/Mattie (2022) by Nicholas Deyoe, who performed this on an electric guitar connected to a formidable array of processing modules, foot pedals and amplifiers. Each strum of the guitar brought forth a great wave of processed sound that was full of power and harmony. Even very light touches on the guitar strings translated into big sounds, and the reflections off the brick walls of Monk Space provided additional amplification. Deyoe went from strumming the guitar to bowing the strings and this seemed to increase the power by adding a stronger sense of continuity to the processed tones. At times it felt like standing in front of a thundering waterfall with the sound physically beating through your body.
Towards the finish, the bow was discarded and a guitar pick was employed. The notes were now heard singly and then processed into a shower of sounds like roman candles bursting in the air on the Fourth of July. This was not as relentless as the bowed sounds and made for a nice contrast in texture. Nebula/Mattie was an impressive solo performance demonstrating just how much sonic power can be deployed by a musician with no fear.
Ten Years of populist records was a reminder of how favored we are in Los Angeles to have several small record labels dedicated to the recording of local new music. The merchandise table offered a large number of populist CDs, a visible sign of their success and our good fortune.
Buffalo Philharmonic and its music director JoAnn Falletta brought their considerable world class talent downstate to Carnegie Hall on Monday. The hall was full, despite persistent rain and the fact that the program was entirely dedicated to a composer whose name and music are not familiar to the casual music fan.
The celebrated composer and conductor Lukas Foss (1922-2009) put his indelible stamp on Buffalo when he was music director of the Philharmonic, 1963 – 1971. With programming that included a healthy dose of new music, he paved the way for a taste for contemporary works in Buffalo. He made a deep impression on JoAnn Falletta, whose association with him goes back to Milwaukee Symphony where she was his assistant conductor in the 1980s. It’s evident from the way Falletta talks about – and performs – Lukas Foss, that she reveres the man and his music.
This year, the centennial of his birth, brought some of his brilliant and neglected works to the stage, five of which were featured this evening. The ensemble performed the music as if it were in their DNA, although, as I later learned, the works were new to these players.
JoAnn Falletta (credit David Adam Beloff)
The program, while full of collaborative performers, allowed the Buffalo Philharmonic to shine on its own in the first and last pieces on the program. Foss said of the first work on the program, Ode, that it represented “crisis, war and, ultimately, ‘faith.’” It was appropriately heavy and ominous with BPO’s brass shining through with impressively dense chords.
BPO’s concert master, Nikki Chooi, took center stage as soloist for Three American Pieces, a work which seemed to shout “Americana!” Chooi’s warm tone and heartfelt playing were evident throughout. In fast passages, Chooi showed off his virtuosity as his bow bounced rapidly on the strings, a spiccato effect. Elements of jazz and country fiddling were woven into the composition; Chooi made the most of each of these styles, supported by various orchestra soloists, notably William Amsel’s jaunty clarinet.
The flutist Amy Porter was featured in Renaissance Concerto, a composition commissioned by the BPO in 1986 for the flutist Carol Wincenc. Foss called it a “loving handshake across the centuries,” and in the process of writing the work, tapped Falletta to help gather lute songs for his inspiration. The orchestra navigated fast riffs in excellent intonation, supporting the soloist. Foss cleverly plays with rhythms, delaying a beat to create a jagged rhythm in the second movement. In the third movement, the soloist’s portamento pitch slides affirm the work’s modernism; a passage which was echoed by principal flutist Christine Lynn Bailey with a nicely matched tone. Porter navigated the extended techniques with aplomb, generating percussive sounds meshing in duet with tambourine. With a dramatic flair, Porter inched her way off the stage as she played the final measures.
BPO was joined by The Choir of Trinity Wall Street and Downtown Voices, for Psalms, a work written in 1956. Tenor Stephen Sands (who is also Downtown Voices director), and soprano Sonya Headlam delivered solos that were spot on and especially moving; beautifully punctuated by harp, tympani and strings. Fugal passages were well-executed, and, with Falletta’s encouragement and direction, never overpowering. The singers had the spotlight to themselves for Alleluia by Foss’s teacher Randall Thompson, an a cappella work that was stunningly gorgeous and reverently performed.
Symphony No. 1, written in 1944, was the earliest work on the program. Textures in the orchestration evoked the sound and style of Copland, mixed with Bernstein, mixed with Hindemith; a sound parallel to the “midcentury modern” style of architecture and furniture. The third movement displayed an appropriate amount of swing, and each of the principal string players were radiant in their respective solo passages in the final movement.
The Lukas Foss Centennial Celebration at Carnegie Hall was a fitting tribute to this under-recognized American composer. Next week, Falletta and the Buffalo Philharmonic head to the recording studio, and an album of the entire program will be released by Naxos next year.
On Saturday, September 17, 2022, the Meng Concert Hall at Cal State Fullerton was the venue for the world premiere of Why Women Went West, a new chamber opera by composer Pamela Madsen. The opera was presented in concert format, performing the musical elements and including the supplementary videos and electronics. Brightwork newmusic provided the main instrumental accompaniment from the stage with supporting musicians stationed all along the perimeter of the hall. Stacey Fraser, the acclaimed soprano, was the vocal soloist.
Why Women Went West is the story of Mary Hunter Austin, who left her Midwestern hometown in the late 19th century for a pioneer life in California and New Mexico. This is not a bawdy Calamity Jane-type send up of the wild west, but rather a deeply personal journey of self-discovery and hard-won independence. The story is filled with all the challenges and trauma experienced by self-reliant women of the time. Through this process, Mary Austin became a feminist, conservationist, writer and advocate for Native American and Spanish-American rights. The program notes state that the opera “…chronicles Mary Austin’s escape from persecution to transformation of white women’s privilege and passion for preservation of nature, history and indigenous culture.”
Why Women Went West is a two-act opera, with seven scenes in each act for a total running time of almost 90 minutes. Act I is titled “Leaving Home-Earth Horizon” and the first scene is “Echo: Empathy Superimposition.” This introduces the setting of the opera with a multimedia presentation consisting of video, sound track and electronics. The recorded accompaniment includes soprano Stacey Fraser, Aron Kallay on piano and the CSUF New Music Ensemble. The black and white video by Quintan Ana Wikswo shows scenes of mountains, forests and streams; a western landscape that is at once familiar, but at the same time fiercely primal, with a definite undercurrent of menace. Scenes of rough outdoor camping vividly depict the difficulties of traveling in such harsh terrain. The music here is ghostly and surreal, perfectly matching the images projected on the screen. Mary Hunter Austin’s journey through the west was clearly no vacation.
Subsequent scenes in Act I built on this sense of danger and the ominous. The musicians, having taken their places on stage at the close of the introductory video, begin with loud drumming and dark piano lines. The soprano vocal starts off in a low register but the overall feeling becomes a bit brighter with the entry of a reassuring violin passage that combines nicely with Ms. Fraser’s clear articulation and strongly expressive singing. More dark scenes follow, sometimes with video and other times without – often with the soprano voice but at other times with just the instrumental ensemble. “The Birds Here”, scene IV, features a video of hawks hunting above a mountain stream, “Owl’s Breath” was next and featured some really frightening scenes of young white owls. The instrumental ensemble, dominated by the bass clarinet of Brian Walsh, created a skittering cacophony of sounds that added to the unnerving imagery. Clearly, traveling through the 19th century American western wilderness was a formidable undertaking both physically and spiritually, forming the crucible for Mary Austin’s re-invented identity.
Scene VI, “The Necessary,” opens with video of a tree-filled landscape featuring roots and leaves in a series of darkly Gothic images. There is spoken text and the Brightwork ensemble enters, with soft vocals from Ms. Fraser underneath. The video ceases; it is as if the great weight of a difficult westward journey has finally been lifted. The acoustic ensemble now dominates, adding a welcome measure of optimism. The sweetly sung vocal line weaves in and around with beautiful harmony and the overall feeling becomes resolutely hopeful. High arcing soprano lines, confidently sung, add to a sense of deliverance and attainment – the long westward odyssey has been successfully completed. The final scene is stronger still, with stirring music that brings Act I to it’s reassuring conclusion.
The buoyant finish of the final two scenes of Act I, after what had been a long series of darker settings, makes for a contrast that is all the more striking for the listener. Composer Madsen’s expressive sense of harmony and control of texture is brilliantly fluid, with each scene carefully crafted so that the shadows in the music are not tedious or oppressive. The affirming relief felt in the music of the last two scenes of Act 1 proves most effective and is all the more gratifying as a result.
Act II has the title “The Land of Little Rain – California to the Land of Journey’s Ending-New Mexico”. The music of the opening scenes immediately establishes an exotic feel with a maraca and spoken text that describes an arid and inhospitable land. The feelings from these opening scenes in Act II, however, are more settled and secure, as if the trials of surviving in the wilderness are past and Mary Austin Hunter has now arrived and is successfully embedded into new cultural surroundings.
“Prayer for My Daughter” Scene III is especially powerful with Ms. Fraser’s expressive soprano voice paired with a lovely violin accompaniment. There is the pathos of powerful loss in this, but at the same time strength in the soprano line that rises ever-upwards, bringing out Ms. Fraser’s masterful command of her voice through all registers. This piece is perhaps the most moving of the entire opera and was beautifully effective. “57 Buzzards”, part of Scene IV, features sharp twittering from the woodwinds, percussion and the musicians surrounding the audience. There is a confused feeling to this and the instruments seem to be in opposition to the spoken text, with the bird sounds representing chaos.
The climax of the opera occurs in Scene V, “The Consecrating Mother / Mary, Mary by Herself.” A softly pensive piano and cello accompany Stacey Fraser singing the words of Mary Austin Hunter. The feeling is now one of accomplishment and hopefulness, it is as if Mary has finally arrived at the conclusion of her spiritual journey, having worked out her sense of independence and identity. The singing is beautiful, confident and dramatic with accompaniment to match. “Going West”, the final scene, is a stately summing up of the protagonist’s resolve to discover herself through the physical challenges of the wilderness and by assimilation into a new cultural context.
Why Women Went West, as given in this concert format, builds a solid musical foundation for the future staged production. The scoring, playing and singing are all on a very high order as are the video, electronics and sound engineering. Why Women Went West was funded with support from the National Endowment of the Arts, Opera America and the Wurlitzer Foundation. The libretto and text were by Pamela Madsen (after Mary Austin Hunter) and Quintan Ana Wikswo. Additional texts by T.S. Eliot, Terri Niccum and W.B. Yeats. Jen Kutler realized the electronics.
Pamela Madsen will be the featured guest composer in residence at Operation Opera, Cal State University Sacramento next year. A fully staged premiere of Why Women Went West is in the planning stage for their Opera Festival, to be held in early June 2023.
A video of the concert version is now available here.
Brightwork newmusic is: Sarah Wass, flute Brian Walsh, clarinets Shalini Vijayan, violin Ashley Walters, cello Nick Terry, percussion Aron Kallay, piano
The CSUF New Music Ensemble Eric Dries and Pamela Madsen, directors
The world premiere of Oratorio for the Earth by Pamela Madsen was heard in the Meng Concert Hall at Cal State University, Fullerton on May 14, 2022. If you couldn’t make it to the performance, a video of a quite satisfactory quality is now available online. This seven-movement oratorio is scored for a full orchestra, a large chorus and six vocal soloists who are the Hex Ensemble. The work offers a dramatic commentary on the uncertain state of nature and the earth in a time of portentous climate change. While the scope and scale of Oratorio for the Earth is daunting, composer Madsen’s score has risen to the challenge and the musicians have delivered a powerful and moving performance.
The structure of the piece is text-book oratorio, with four set-piece chorus movements interspersed with vocal solos and smaller settings by the Hex Ensemble. There are also spoken texts that function as recitative. The larger choral movements begin in winter and circle around to summer, following the seasons. The wide-ranging texts include sacred Latin as well as the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke, Robert Frost, Sitting Bull, Walt Whitman, Sara Teasdale, Mary Hunter Austin and William Butler Yeats. According to the program notes: “Oratorio for the Earth is part of a tryptic of concert-length works focusing on Earth and the environment…”
The news about nature, the earth and climate has been discouraging for at least a decade, and “Lost Horse Mine Lament”, the opening movement of Oratorio for the Earth, clearly reflects this. Church-like chimes are heard as the chorus sings softly in Latin “Truth, the light, the truth and the life – let there be light.” This continues in a warm, full harmony with the higher voices ultimately dominating. The singing turns pensive and a syncopated accompaniment in the percussion adds to the interesting harmonies in the chorus. The chorus is always very much in the foreground while the orchestral accompaniment is appropriately restrained. Molly Pease sings a beautiful mezzo-soprano solo based on a sorrowful Rilke text at the quiet finish. Throughout this movement, and through the entire oratorio, the large orchestra never overpowers the singing. This careful balance is primarily due to the skillful conducting of Kimo Furumoto, aided by the fine acoustic of the concert hall.
The succeeding movements generally follow the somber tone of the opening. “O, Lacrimosa: Ah, But the Winter”, the second movement, has an almost melancholy feeling with solemn piano chords and vocal lines that separate into layers, weaving in and out. The somber Rilke text portrays winter as death before the coming spring. “Center of all Centers”, movement III, is more unsettled, with dissonance in the orchestra and a soaring vocal line arcing above with text by Robert Frost. As with other movements, the orchestra is subdued, with only the occasional forte phrase. Towards the middle of this movement, there is a sudden tempo change as the rhythms become more active. A soloist sings from text by Rilke “Suddenly, from all the green around you, something – you don’t know what – has disappeared;” The chorus joins in full harmony and the feeling is one of an awakening as the text speaks of plants about to spring forth. The orchestra crescendos along with the chorus as this movement reaches its climax.
“O Lacrimosa: O, tear-filled figure”, movement IV, follows and this is a fine contrast to the previous chorus. The opening consists of short vocal phrases by the women soloists with only a few piano notes in accompaniment – the orchestra is tacet. A gentle soprano solo enters with the text “O tear-filled figure who, like a sky held back, grows heavy above the landscape of her sorrow.” More female singing is heard, layered in contrasting registers with a beautiful high soprano line. Movement V opens with a cautionary text by Sitting Bull: “Behold my friends, Behold my friends. They claim our mother Earth for their own.” The ominously deep chords in the piano nicely compliment the bass-baritone soloist and higher voices join in to create an austere harmony. The text soon turns to a Latin Adoramus te and this presents an intriguing fusion of traditional Christian liturgy and Native American spirituality: Christ’s sacrifice and redemption in the context of nature’s springtime renewal. The singing here by the Hex Ensemble is masterfully controlled and complimented by the suitably spare orchestral accompaniment.
The extraordinarily deep bass of James Hayden opens Movement VI “Now the Hour Bows Down” with Rilke’s dramatic text sung in German. This movement was commissioned by Nicholas Isherwood, another bass with an extraordinary vocal range. The orchestra gradually joins in adding anxiety and the feeling now becomes one of almost total despair. At this moment of deep anguish, the female voices enter in hopeful harmony and the text shifts to Psalm 69. Soon, male and female voices join together to sing “Save me O Lord, for the waters have come into my soul.” The deep bass is now singing purposefully in English as the volume builds and confidence increases. This is a welcome ray of optimism shining out at the end of what is probably the darkest movement in the entire oratorio.
The table is now set for the final redemptive movement, “Earth Horizon”, beginning with spoken text from Walt Whitman’s “A California Song! Song of the Redwood Trees.” This describes the fall of a dying redwood in the forest, accompanied by the orchestra and chorus. The feeling is at once sad and triumphant as the choral singing gradually increases in strength and optimism. The ensemble is both stirring and beautiful, without overwhelming the mood. As the choral text turns to “There Will Be Rest”, by Sara Teasdale, a sense of serenity runs through the layers and waves of music that flow outward. A series of orchestral trills and purposeful phrases are heard as the singing shifts to Rilke’s “All Is Love”. The chorus escalates the dynamic dramatically, then subsides as the text of “Earth Horizon” by Mary Hunter Austin is spoken. This is the philosophical core of the entire piece, articulating the disappointment in our treatment of the environment but leaving room for optimism; nature will recover and humans can re-establish a mutually beneficial relationship with the earth. This is followed by a haunting alto solo, soon joined by the full orchestra and chorus singing a soothing text by W.B. Yeats. With a gentle crescendo, the final movement – and Oratorio for the Earth – is completed.
With great power comes great responsibility. Perhaps the most impressive thing about Oratorio for the Earth is the discipline and restraint in both the writing and performing. The vast musical forces at the disposal of composer Madsen could well have spun out of control given the solemn subject of this work. The use of the orchestra, chorus and soloists is precisely balanced and provides a pleasingly varied sequence of movements. The many texts are used to good effect and the orchestral accompaniment always makes space for the chorus and soloists. The overall emotional arc of the oratorio is masterfully crafted and makes the final movement that much more memorable. Large-scale contemporary music is seldom heard these days but Oratorio for the Earth shows that this form can still deliver a compelling message.
The full video of Oratorio for the Earth is available here and the program notes are here. The movement titles and sung text are helpfully displayed on the screen, and this is especially useful for some of the quiet choral pieces – the chorus is seated well to the back of the stage and the softer words are sometimes difficult to hear. The program notes contain the complete set of the texts and these can be easily followed to mark when changes occur within the movements. There is also a complete list of the performers and the technical crew. The sound, video engineering, lighting and stage management are all first rate and free of any distractions. The video of Oratorio for the Earth is a fine production of a large, complex work and provides a clear conduit for the artistry on stage.
The HEX Ensemble is:
Joslyn Sarshad, soprano Molly Pease, soprano Lindsay Patterson Abdou, alto Fahad Siadat, tenor, director Scott Graff, baritone James Hayden, baritone Andrew Anderson, piano
The concert program listing all the performers is available here.
On Saturday, June11, 2022 the Ojai Music Festival evening concert featured Little Jimmy, by Andrew McIntosh along with Deep Water Trawling and Family Dinner, both by Matthew Aucoin. The Libbey Bowl was mostly filled as was the lawn seating. A perfect evening, clear and warm, added to the pleasant Ojai atmosphere.
Andrew McIntosh is a Los Angeles-based composer and gifted violinist who is also an avid outdoorsman. Andrew has made it to the summit of several peaks in the Sierras as well as Mount Shashta, and he can often be found hiking the local trails. Little Jimmy is named for a popular backpacking camp on Mount Islip in the San Gabriel Mountains. McIntosh has written several chamber pieces for strings, an opera – Bonnie and Clyde – and several microtonal pieces. He has also composed I Hold the Lion’s Paw, a large-scale work for the Los Angeles Percussion Quartet.
Little Jimmy springs directly from McIntosh’s environmental muse. Perhaps not surprisingly, this is a quietly nuanced percussion piece from a widely accomplished string player. The Libbey Bowl stage was set with hanging metal tubes, a steel plate, a vibraphone, triangles, a series of cymbals and a brake drum that brought to mind the inventive creations of Lou Harrison. Jonny Allen and Mari Yoshinaga were the percussionists while Conor Hanick and Matthew Aucoin were stationed at two pianos on opposite sides of the stage.
Little Jimmy opens in a series of triangle and percussive piano notes that give a rough, spiky feel, as if one is walking over the gravel of the San Gabriel foothills. A moment or two of silence follows and then a low roaring sound is heard from the rubbing of a rock on a piece of slate. A field recording of local bird calls evokes the remote landscape around a small creek or mountain stream. The vibraphone adds a few mystical tones, perhaps a glimpse of the high mountains ahead. The vibraphone plates are then bowed, adding to the sense of a transcendent immersion in nature.
As the piece proceeds, the quiet organic sounds give way to a more purposeful feel in the piano phrasing along with a few solitary chimes, perhaps signaling an ascent along the trail. Drones materialize with the drawing of cords across the piano strings. This sound intensifies while soft mallets on the metal tubes summon the mystical pull of the mountain peaks in the distance. A sudden, loud gong is struck followed by dramatic, low notes from the piano, signaling that the high point with a majestic view has been reached. After a short stretch of repeating phrases, perhaps indicating a descent, the bird calls and rushing sounds first heard at the starting point return. The rock is now rubbed on the brake drum along with a bowed cymbal that intensifies the feeling of completeness. A single chime sounds at the finish – a benediction in the cathedral of nature.
The subtlety of the piece was a perhaps a bit confusing to audience at first, but the quiet nuance encouraged close listening and the understatement soon came to be appreciated. Little Jimmy contains all the metaphorical elements of a picturesque hike in the San Gabriel mountains and was convincingly conjured through the imaginative use of percussion and two pianos.
An intermission followed and Deep Water Trawling, by Matthew Aucoin was next. This was everything Little Jimmy was not – loud, urgent and realized with formidable musical forces conducted by the composer. Despite these differences in approach and style, Deep Water Trawling shares with the McIntosh piece a similar attitude on the environment. The program notes state that Jorie Graham’s text for Deep Water Trawling “…addresses the issue of humanity’s impact on nature and the climate, presenting the perspective of the ocean from beneath in response to the problematic practice of fishing with a trawl net.” Accordingly, deep cello tones are heard in the opening along with piano notes in the lower registers. The instruments enter boldly, vividly evoking all the drama, mystery and pressure of the ocean depths. The vocal line “Ask us anything” initiates a dialogue between humans in the soprano voice and the creatures of the depths in the lower voices. There is a spooky and surreal feeling to this; we are clearly being called to account for over-fishing and other environmental transgressions perpetrated by humans in the ocean. As the piece proceeds, full voices and accompanying instruments weave a compelling and cautionary tale. Deep Water Trawling cries out as a powerful indictment of our stewardship of the sea and warns of the ultimate effects on our civilization.
Commissioned by the Ojai Music Festival, the world premiere of Family Dinner by AMROC co-founder Matthew Aucoin followed. This is a large-scale work consisting of a series of ‘mini-concertos’ connected together with poetry readings, spoken anecdotes and toasts such as might be offered at a large family dinner. The muscular musical forces on the stage gave vigorous voice to Aucoin’s vision of “dialogue movements, songful outpourings and raucous dances.” The AMROC personnel that made up the ensemble proved equal to rigorous task before them and performed brilliantly throughout this extensive piece. The sounds called for by the score were highly varied, depending on the scene, but the instruments and voices were always on the mark. Given its impressive length and heft, Family Dinner can trace no doubt its origins to Aucoin’s extensive experience in the world of opera. The music was artfully composed and skillfully performed, but stayed close to conventional gestures and forms. A dazzling platform for virtuosity, Family Dinner delivers almost too much – like an out-sized Thanksgiving meal.
The 75th anniversary edition of the Ojai Music Festival opened on June 9 and ran through June 12, 2022. A full program was scheduled by Music Director Zack Winokur including 17 core artists, 20 collaborators and participation by the American Modern Opera Company (AMOC). A wide variety of music was planned, from J.S. Bach to Andrew McIntosh and included a world premier by Matthew Aucoin. The Ojai weather was perfect and a sizable crowd surged in and around Libbey Park, almost as if the pandemic had never happened.
The Friday morning concert, titled Eastman, was given over entirely to the works of Julius Eastman and featured cellist Seth Parker Woods with five other musicians from AMOC, all led by director Zack Winokur. Davóne Tines, bass-baritone, wrote that each collaborator in the ensemble made a commitment to “…meet weekly, for over a year, to discover and digest Julius Eastman’s work, share personal stories about what his absence from our educations has meant, play his music and the music of his contemporaries, and build a collective knowledge and informed performance practice together. This work has culminated in more than just a concert, but a way of working collegially and collaboratively – with care and holistic engagement of material that seeks to honor it through deep conceptualization. This is our effort to pay homage,”
Julius Eastman was gay, Black and a composer of new music at a time when none of these things were popular. He died too young and penniless. Eastman’s long and difficult struggles might naturally be expected to inform his music with a certain anger and exasperation. The genius of this concert, however, was that of the five pieces selected for performance, the first four were grounded in a spirituality that illuminates Eastman’s music in a new and compelling way. This, along with the extraordinary dedication of the ensemble to thoroughly explore this music through extensive rehearsal, resulted in a truly memorable performance.
The first piece on the program was Our Father and, although one of Eastman’s last works, was the perfect invocation. Davóne Tines deep voice led with a powerful chant accompanied by the double bass and cello. The feeling was almost medieval with long sustained tones and spare harmonies that would have been at home in any cathedral. Eastman’s formative years were spent singing in church, and this influence was clearly very strong, even in his later career. Budda followed, a more evocative piece with soft piano notes and long, extended tones in the other instruments punctuated by pizzicato notes in the double bass. The vocal line was wordless and consisted of sustained tones. The lovely harmonies that formed give this piece an exotic and transcendental feeling.
Gay Guerrilla was next, opening with solemn, repeating phrases in the piano that evoke an air of expectation. Soon, four hands on the piano built up the density and tension. The piece proceeds in a general crescendo, and as the other instruments of the ensemble enter, there is a definite minimalist vibe. The sound turns more dramatic as the extraordinary bass voice of Davóne Tines enters in the lowest possible register, adding a sense of the ominous to the already anxious feel in the ensemble. The playing is expressive, yet disciplined, even as the drama builds. The dynamic increases and the entire ensemble is now engaged in full voice – the volume developed by such a small group is impressive. Dissonance creeps in, adding menace to the texture. The bass voice enters, again in a very low register, evoking an almost Biblical sense of judgment.
As the piece proceeds from this point, the intensity rises and falls, but the dynamic is always building with the sound becoming almost primal at times. The bass voice enters to dominate, quoting the text of “A Mighty Fortress” with all the power and immediacy of Luther’s original hymn. The ensemble is now at full cry and along with the deep bass vocal, the feeling becomes one of great strength. Gay Guerrilla is not animated by political activism or anger, but rather by the immense power of Eastman’s inner spiritual resources – a true masterpiece.
Prelude to the Holy Presence of Joan d’ Arc followed, perhaps the most overtly religious piece in the program. Davóne Tines again leads the way, chanting a series of repeating phrases: “Saint Michael said”, Saint Catharine said”, “Joan speak boldly.” The impact of Tine’s strong voice increases as these phrases are repeated over and over, sometimes singly and sometimes connected together. The accompaniment is all but submerged by the mighty words; this is praying that would be at home in any church. Eastman appeals to the saint directly, as the program notes state: “Dear Joan, I have dedicated myself to the liberation of my own person firstly. I shall emancipate myself from the materialistic dreams of my parents; I shall emancipate myself from the bind of the past and the present, I shall emancipate myself from myself.” Written just before he became homeless, Prelude to the Holy Presence of Joan d’ Arc is further evidence of Eastman’s remarkable inward strength.
Stay On It finished the concert, and this was an inspired bit of programming. One of Eastman’s earlier works, it is upbeat and optimistic, fueled by a relentless improvisational joy. The ensemble was bouncy, but precise, with sunny repeating phrases and a pleasing groove. A strong drum beat added to the intensity of the texture as the bass voice loudly proclaimed “Stay On It!”; one could only marvel at Davóne Tines vocal stamina. At about the midpoint of the piece, the rhythms became syncopated and irregular, and “Stay On It’ is now heard as encouragement. The ensemble then resumes with its initial energy, reaching an almost Caribbean level of exuberance. This cycle of musical dissembly and recovery recurs so that “Stay On It!” becomes an outright exhortation. When heard through the lens of the previous Eastman pieces in this concert program, Stay On It becomes a statement of the composer’s dedication to his art, ‘staying on it’ despite the many challenges he encountered.
The group of musicians performing this concert at the 2022 Ojai Music Festival are based in Los Angeles and have demonstrated an extraordinary commitment to the music of Julius Eastman. This level of dedication and expertise deserves a wider audience – we can only hope that the larger performance venues in Southern California will schedule them soon.
Eastman Personnel:
Emi Ferguson, flute Miranda Cuckson, violin Seth Parker Woods, cello Doug Balliett, double bass Conor Hanick, piano Davóne Tines, bass-baritone Zack Winokur, director
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
