Contemporary Classical

CD Review, Choral Music, Contemporary Classical, early music, File Under?

love & light – iSing Silicon Valley (CD Review)

love & light

iSing Silicon Valley, conducted by Jennah Delp Somers

Esteli Gomez, soprano; Cheryl Ann Fulton, harp

Avie Records

 

On love & light, the girl’s choir iSing Silicon Valley performs a program of ancient liturgical chants and Latin motets by contemporary composers. Many include the dulcet accompaniment of harpist Cheryl Ann Fulton, who arranges early music for the harp. Os Mutorum by James Macmillan opens the recording with a gentle spirit, introducing the listener to a program emphasizing healing and uplift. Star power and fetching lyrical singing is provided by soprano Esteli Gomez. Her performance on Kile Smith’s Psalm 113 is a particular standout. 

 

Jennah Delp Somers has fashioned an impressive program with iSing. Consisting of three hundred girl singers, it emphasizes recruiting from different cultures and socioeconomic backgrounds to bring communities together. Not only is this worthy advocacy, but iSing performs beautifully under Delp Somers’s direction. Performing challenging yet abundantly appealing works  such as Kenyon Duncan’s hocket filled chorea lucis, Gabriel Jackson’s ebullient Ubi Flumen Praesulis, and the luscious, harmonically intricate Lux Aeterna by Sunji Hong, the group displays a commanding presence that belies their ages. The latter piece was new to me, and has become a particular favorite.

 

Like much of Hildegard’s music, O Virtus Sapientiae has a wide ranging melody. Gomez sings it with command and  rhythmic fluidity, accompanied by recessed voices carrying a sustained chord for accompaniment. Anonymous early music is arranged for the ensemble and harp. O Maris, Stella Maris, on which Gomez sings the chant, is memorable among these. Also affecting is a harp solo based on O Columba. The group performs Salve Virgo Virginum with immaculate diction and pacing. 

 

Monstra Te Esse Matrem, by Kile Smith features polychords interspersed with solo sections by Fulton. Soft dynamics are performed with exquisite control. Three pieces by Andrew Smith (no relation), Ave Regina Caelorum, Ave Maria, and Regina Caeli, round out the program. Ave Regina Caelorum combines chant with chordal stacked seconds that in places sounds like the tintinnabuli style of Arvo Pärt. Ave Maria once again harmonizes chant with lush chords. The high-lying soprano line is impressively performed. Regina Caeli begins with the chorus singing chant that is succeeded by overlapping lines and bright harmonies. 

 

If more communities had this kind of program for young people, that fosters connections but cedes nothing of musical excellence, think of what America’s support for the arts would look like. Recommended

 

-Christian Carey

 

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Los Angeles

Isaac Schankler – Because/Patterns

Aerocade Music’s Because/Patterns is an album of experimental music by composer Isaac Schankler. Three new works are featured and performed by top Los Angeles-area musicians. Each piece is the product of the relationship that develops between the acoustic instruments and accompanying electronic constructions. Schankler is perhaps best known as the artistic director of People Inside Electronics, an organization dedicated to ambitious and innovative uses of electronics in new concert music. This album marks the high level of his efforts in this area.

The first piece is Because Patterns/Deep State, with Aron Kallay on piano, Vicki Ray on prepared piano and Scott Worthington playing bass. This begins with an electronic track full of sharp rattling rhythmic sounds that alternate on both channels. Deep, booming bass sounds from Worthington occur at regular intervals, followed by a whirring sound that increases in loudness and finally dominates. Some quietly repeating piano notes slowly push their way into the texture, gaining quickly in volume and creating a nice rhythmic groove in the process. The whirring returns, accompanied by drumming and a variety of industrial sounds – humming, buzzing, clicking and rumbling – these are imposing, although not quite menacing. A siren is heard in the foreground, sustained and urgent, building a sense of anxiety.

Synthesized string sounds appear like the sunrise on a cool morning invoking a more hopeful and optimistic feeling. As the whirring and drumming recede, a light rain of appealing piano notes is heard and soon dominates to bring a welcome sense of cheer. The ominous electronic sounds, however, return to continue the pattern of alternating layers that rise and recede as the piece moves forward. The piano playing by Kallay and Ray is warm and lyrical – immediately recognizable as inspired by human creativity. The deep electronics are never menacing, but always stand apart from the music.

As the dark mechanical sounds recur, they evoke the regimented constraints of a modern existence. When the lighter piano notes appear with their optimistic tones and agreeable rhythms, we are reminded of those times when our humanity is allowed to prevail. These two states struggle for control, but neither seems able to completely displace the other. The persistence of optimism is the message here; life is never so grim that all possibility of hope is extinguished. Because Patterns/Deep State is an artful exploration of the contending forces present in our culture, and offers a powerful assurance of human resilience.

The second work, Mobile I, features violinist Sakura Tsai along with electronic accompaniment enhanced by spectral analysis. This opens with sustained notes in the violin followed by a pause and then some light skittering with pizzicato that builds tension. The sustained tones return, but are now accompanied by a pure electronic tone that shines like a cool beacon through the increasingly complex flow of phrases issuing from the violin. The electronic tones vary in pitch but never overwhelm, acting like a calm backdrop to the now frenzied passages expertly played by Sakura Tsai. The tension ratchets higher as rough, scratchy sounds evoke a convincing sense of suffering and agony. The electronics now become more animated and percussive, adding to the level of anxiety. The violin finally breaks out in a series of fast, nicely articulated phrases, as if sprinting towards freedom before fading at the finish. Mobile I artfully contrasts the vividly expressive sounds of the violin with more reserved tones from the electronics, a combination that, surprisingly. works to magnify the emotional response of the listener.

The final track is Future Feelings and features pianist Nadia Shpachenko. This opens with a lightly metallic wash in the electronics and swirls of strong piano notes. As the piece moves forward, the piano dominates, unreeling clouds of lovely phrases played with that characteristically sensitive Shpachenko touch. Although for the most part quietly atmospheric, some drama is occasionally added when the piano dips into the lower registers in a series of rapid, descending scales. Soft beeping tones – clearly electronic – enter from underneath, yet these seem perfectly at home embedded within the lush melodies and warm textures of the piano line. The extravagantly beautiful playing of Ms. Shpachenko almost steals the show, but the subdued electronic presence is memorable precisely for how much it contributes to the warm sensibility of this piece. Future Feelings is exquisitely expressive music, with just the right balance of masterful playing and superbly complimentary electronics.

Because/Patterns is remarkable listening and a new benchmark of just how highly evolved the combination of acoustic instruments and electronics has become in the service of musical expression.

Because/Patterns is available now via digital download from Bandcamp, Amazon, Spotify, and other retailers. A 12” vinyl record with a unique color or pattern combination and can also be ordered via Bandcamp.






CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, File Under?, Violin

Olivia de Prato – Panorama (CD Review)

 

Panorama – Olivia de Prato (New Focus)

 

Violinist Olivia de Prato has established herself as a staunch advocate of new music. In addition to her work with Mivos Quartet, she is a talented soloist. On her second solo release for New Focus Recordings, Panorama, she undertakes a recital disc of female composers. A number of the pieces include electronics, fleshing out the solo texture in diverting fashion.

 

The album opens with Missy Mazzoli’s violin plus electronics piece Tooth and Nail (2010). The original version was written for violist Nadia Sirota; this is a transcription for violin. The piece begins with string sounds in the electronics accompanying the live violin. De Prato digs into the vigorous passagework, executing arpeggiations and glissandos with incisiveness. As the piece progresses the electronics add a lower register to the piece, ending the piece. This is probably my favorite of Mazzoli’s instrumental works.

 

Jeom Jaeng Yi (Fortune Teller) by Jen Shyu is inspired by American polyartist Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, including some of her poetry as a spoken word component. The gestures in the solo part are based on speech rhythms. Speaking isn’t constant but de Prato makes clear the connections between violin and voice. There is a mournful cast to the piece: someone’s fortune was disappointing.

 

The title track, for violin and electronics by Angelic Negrón, employs a bath of ambient synths and supple legato phrasing from de Prato, often with glissandos, that employs sumptuous high notes. Mallet samples and piano press the music forward, with repeating passages and pizzicato in the violin responding to the post-minimal electronics. Gradually the music picks up speed, with regularly articulated synth chords and oscillations in the violin. The texture becomes fuller, with a return of synth ostinatos, and once again upper register violin glissandos soar over the top of the varied palette of electronic sounds. The coda features a two note oscillation and clouds of chords accompanying the violin’s final melodic strands.

 

Mapping a Joyful Path, by Miya Masaoka, employs pitch bends in places in the synth parts. Mostly, however, the electronics part consists of sustained sine tones that are varied in register, with overtones skirting in and out of the texture. De Prato plays with varying bow pressure, aggressive repeated notes, microtones in double stops, and Eastern sliding tone to interpret a multifaceted and fetching piece. It finishes with a held altissimo note in the violin and the drones receding.

 

The recording concludes with Balconies by British composer Samantha Fernando. The piece can be played by five live violinists or one with a pre-recorded part. It begins with an arpeggiated flourish and overlapping ostinatos. After another iteration of the opening arpeggio, the texture thickens in the second section, moving from the triadic opening to secundal chords articulated with repeating notes. Soft pizzicatos interrupt the chordal texture, and the arpeggio announces a third section, this one supplying more spacing, but no less complicated harmonies. Melodic fragments are taken up, breaking up the verticals for a time. Melody and richly constructed chords then interact. The original gesture is reconfigured as chords in the alto register, followed by a coda of pizzicatos. Balconies is an arresting piece on recording. I would love to hear de Prato and four friends playing it live.

 

Once again, Olivia de Prato has presented a program of fascinating musical discoveries. Panorama supports female composers with advocacy and skill. Recommended.

 

-Christian Carey

CD Review, Composers, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, Experimental Music, File Under?

Hearing Landscapes Hearing Icescapes – Lei Lang (CD Review)

Hearing Landscapes Hearing Icescapes

Lei Liang

New Focus Recordings

 

From 2012-2022, composer Lei Liang did a residency at the Qualcomm Institute at UC San Diego, where he is a full professor. At Qualcomm, Liang worked with scientists in a variety of disciplines –  software developers, robotic engineers, material scientists, cultural heritage engineers, and oceanographers – to infuse his music with ecological and ethnographic elements. The result, Hearing Landscapes Hearing Icescapes, are two electronic works that incorporate samples, folk songs,  and a few live musicians. 

Hearing Landscapes is an homage to Huang Binhong (1865-1955), a gifted landscape painter. The audio components of this electronic score were in part realized by analyzing the types of brushstrokes used by Binbong, and translating them into sound. Visual artists did further analysis of the painting using their own methodologies. There are three samples from 1950s China used successively in each of the piece’s movements: a hu-aer folk song performed by Zhu Zonglu, a renowned singer from northwest Qinghai Province, xingsheng (crosstalk) in the Beijing dialect by comedians Hou Baolin and Guo Qiru, and guqin performer Wu Jin-lüe playing “Water and Mist over Xiaoxiang.” Other sonic devices used by Lei Liang include a “rainstorm” made by dropping styrofoam peanuts in an open piano, and the distorting of spoken voices to create indecipherable “tea house chatter.”

 

It is fascinating to  learn of the roles of many integrated disciplines used to fashion Hear Landscapes. The musical results are compelling. In “High Mountain,” the “strokes” found in the melodic lines, passages of upper partial drones, and the piano storm, ebb and flow and set the stage for Zhu Zonglu’s singing. Movement 2, “Mother Tongue,” a reference to Lei Liang’s own preferred dialect, creates swaths of distressed, unintelligible speech alongside the banter of the two comedians. “Water and Mist” returns to the clarion harmonics and brushed melodies. Dripping water appears alongside Wu Jin-lüe’s elegant playing of the guqin. A passage that incorporates sustained strings follows, succeeded by a lengthy passage of  solo guqin and water sound receding until the piece’s conclusion.

 

Hearing Icescapes uses different source material, including recordings of contemporary performers: David Aguila, trumpet, flutist Teresa Diaz de Cossio, and violinist Myra Hinrichs. Oceanographers provide sounds they had recorded in the nearly inaccessible Chuckchi Sea, north of Alaska. It takes echolocation as a formal design, with one part of the piece indicating the “Call” and the other the “Response” of this phenomenon. Ice, wind, bearded seals, belugas, and bowhead whales create an extraordinary variety of sounds that, without this project, would be available to be heard by few humans. At over twice the duration of Hearing Landscapes, Hearing Icescapes is expansive, the first movement gradually unfolding from the cracking of thin ice to flowing water to an effusive whales’ chorus at its close. Throughout, crescendos and diminuendos of water sounds are accompanied by short whistles from whales. The live instruments are fairly subdued, playing sustained tones underneath the surface of the soundscape. 

 

The second movement begins with snatches of the main source material, a combination of the ice noises and whale song. The live instruments are then foregrounded, imitating the whale sounds in a response to the first movement’s mammalian outcrying. Hinrich uses bow pressure to create an imitation of the ice noises. Aguila is an imaginative interpreter of the more boisterous sounds from “Call,” and de Cossio mimics the whale whistling with considerable fervor. A pause, followed by falling ice, demarcates the movement’s structure. Once again, the whales take up their echolocation, this time in a virtual colloquy with the live instruments. The combined forces end the piece in thrilling fashion.

 

Artists are often, by necessity, so focused on short term deadlines for projects, that they don’t get to innovate. Lie Liang’s decade spent with his colleagues at Qualcomm Institute has resulted in considerable innovation and two significant works that resonate with cultural studies and ecology, while at the same time providing diverting music. Recommended. 

 

-Christian Carey 

 

Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Brightwork Newmusic Trio

A Brightwork Newmusic concert was staged at Boston Court Pasadena on Saturday, March 18, 2023. A program of intensely complex music was performed, including pieces by Khachaturian and Bartok from the 1930s and three works by contemporary composers. Aron Kallay, pianist, Shalini Vijayan, violin and Brian Walsh on clarinet comprised the highly talented Brightwork trio of Los Angeles area musicians. The intimate Marjorie Branson Performance Space at Boston Court, which underwent some upgrades during the pandemic, was perfectly suited to the ensemble, the music and the audience.

The concert opened with Trio for Violin, Clarinet and Piano (1932) by Aram Khachaturian, consisting of three movements. Khachaturian was born in Tiblisi, Georgia in 1903 and was strongly influenced by the traditional folk music and dominant Armenian culture of this remote Russian province. The 1917 Russian revolution, civil war and subsequent incorporation of Georgia into the Soviet Union were significant events in his early adulthood. Khachaturian moved to Moscow to study music and eventually enrolled as a composition student at the Moscow Conservatory. Growing up in remote Armenia, enduring great political turmoil in his formative years and then submitting to the rigors of the Moscow Conservatory resulted in music of powerful expressive intensity combined with an affable exotic charm.

These attributes are on full display in Trio for Violin, Clarinet and Piano. The first movement “Andante con dolore, con molto espressione” opened with a series of pensive piano chords that became stronger on each repeat. The violin and clarinet soon entered, each with independent lines, weaving in and around each other. Aron Kallay’s piano contributed a swirl of notes, increasing the density of the texture dramatically. With the andante tempo, the feeling is solemn, yet very expressive, especially when the violin line soars in sustained tones over the moving lines below. A mix of slow phrases were followed by more rapid passages and the precision of the three players working through these complex interactions was impressive.

The second movement, “Allegro”, increases the pace significantly and independent lines pour rapidly out from each instrument. The phrasing, although complex and driven by a faster tempo, was maintained in superb cohesion – a further testament to the technical skill of the ensemble. The feeling was wide, expansive and grand. “Moderato”, the final movement, opens with a lovely clarinet solo from Brian Walsh that is answered by the piano. Fast passages follow, the clarinet doubling the violin, with both remaining solidly on pitch. As the movement proceeds, the interplay between the three instruments evolves beautifully. Echoes of folk music are heard amid powerful conventional 20th century gestures. Trio for Violin, Clarinet and Piano is a masterful mix of Khachaturian’s musical influences, skillfully performed by the Brightwork ensemble.

Jasper Drag (2000) by Alvin Singleton followed. The title refers to the horrific 1998 murder of James Byrd, Jr., a black man, who was beaten by three white men and then dragged behind a pickup truck for three miles near Jasper, Texas. This piece was originally commissioned by Michigan State University for the Verdehr Trio. The opening is a series of solemn, two-note piano chords, separated by brief silences. The clarinet enters first with low, then very high pitches that establish an unsettling atmosphere. The violin and piano enter in their turns with solo passages that add to a rising sense of distress. A long sustained clarinet tone is heard against an agitated violin, effectively increasing the tension. The ensemble occasionally plays together, but usually proceeds with independent lines. Overall, there is a certain austerity present, even in the more active sections. There are stretches of churning tutti, but the instruments mostly take their turns playing singly, sustaining the general feeling of anxiety.

This music is not a metaphor for the barbarity of the crime; there are no long wailing passages or over-the-top pyrotechnics. The feeling is rather one of deep shame for an unspeakable act of violence that has escaped from a dark past into our presumably enlightened present. Jasper Drag eloquently articulates the condemnation of a society where such an atrocity is still possible.

Dash (2001), by Jennifer Higdon was next and this began with a crash of sound from the entire ensemble. Every instrument boldly proclaimed each note, and the dynamic never diminished throughout the entire piece. The tempo was fast and the complexity of the independent lines compared favorably with the earlier Khachaturian piece. The attention to technical detail by the Brightwork trio was remarkable; it seemed as if every instrument was furiously playing all the time. Throughout, there was a joyful and rowdy feeling as the piece charged along with a seemingly endless supply of high energy. Dash might have been inspired by the relentless ride that is our daily life.

Sea Change (2009), by Pamela Madsen was next and this was something completely different. Madsen, who has created large scale works, chose the trio for this piece as a more direct way to focus her composition with its sympathetic view to ecology and the environment. The piece was preceded by a short poetic narration that ended with “You are most loved, most lost, most beautiful.” Simple and direct, the opening passages consisted of lovely repeating lines with gently moving parts in the violin and piano, sustained supporting tones from the clarinet. This was in a mild dynamic and moderate tempo, creating a stately and organic feel. The ensemble nicely evoked an aqueous sense of flow and movement, always shifting and on the move, but static in form. All of this made for a contrast to the charged and often furious music heard in the first half of the concert. As Sea Change continued it slowly gathered momentum, getting louder, faster and more syncopated. By the finish, however, the sea had changed again, dropping back into the easy restraint of the opening. Sea Change was astutely programmed for this point in the concert program and gave the Brightwork ensemble a chance to present a more intimate sound.

The final work on the concert program was Contrasts (1938) by Bela Bartok. Built around a series of dance forms, Contrasts was in keeping with the energy and vigor of the opening trio by Khachaturian, and made a fine bookend to the concert. The first movement, “Verbunkos (Recruiting Dance)”, began with a strong staccato melody in the clarinet, a pizzicato line in the violin and robust rhythms in the piano. A portentous, late 1930’s atmosphere was immediately established in the mind of the listener. There was a slightly out-of-control feel to this that never let up, perhaps evoking the inept dancing of enthusiastic soldiers. Overall it was strident, powerful and loud with an ominous undertone. The clarinet playing was particularly expressive with a number of complex and over-the-top passages.

“Pihenő (Relaxation)”, the second movement, was slow, quiet and full of sustained notes from the clarinet and violin. A low rumbling in the piano carried forward the sinister undertone that was present in the first movement. “Pihenő” provided a tense quiet after the spirited “Verbunkos” the but the disconcerting line in the piano added further gloom. The tension was nicely sustained by the ensemble as the piece continued along until it faded away in a mysterious finish.

The final movement was “”Sebes (Fast Dance)” and this marked the return to a lively tempo and strong dynamics. The resolute tutti phrasing included a roiling texture in both the piano and clarinet that built into a series of shouts. The rapid rhythms and complex surfaces were nevertheless artfully negotiated by the players. After a brief pause, the tempo slowed and the sounds became more sustained and languid. Only the piano persisted with its darker line underneath. A dark descent followed before a sudden jump back into the rush of technically difficult passages and labyrinthine lines. A very rapid violin solo was expertly performed by Ms. Vijayan and the rest of the ensemble then joined in for a furious tutti finish.

Bartok is perhaps most familiar to us through his well-known Concerto for Orchestra, a restrained and atmospheric work written during World War II. Contrasts is a much more animated and provocative piece that brings to life all of the anxieties present prior to the outbreak of the war. In the same way, the Khatchaturian piece, Jasper Drag and Jennifer Higdon’s Dash also reflected their own contemporary apprehensions. Pamela Madsen’s Sea Change gave us the space and contrast necessary for an appreciative comparison. We are fortunate in Los Angeles to have musicians capable of performing this important music at such a high level.

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, File Under?

Chamber Music from Hell – Chris Opperman (CD Review)

Chamber Music from Hell

Chris Opperman

 

Chris Opperman, Synclavier, piano 

Kurt Morgan, programming, electric bass 

Mike Keneally, electric guitar 

Ryan Brown, drum set 

Jason Camelio, trombone 

Brianna Tagliaferro, cello 

Marco Minnemann, drum set 

The New Jersey Percussion Ensemble (Peter Jarvis, Payton MacDonald, Mike Aberback, Paul Carroll) 

Ursula Joy Opperman, Synclavier 

 

Purple Cow Records

 

When you have two Synclavier players on a recording that begins with a comic spoken introduction (“Where is Everybody?” – these reappear periodically in a robotic voice), it is tempting to suggest that the composer, Chris Opperman, must be writing a post-Zappa homage. Without a doubt, Zappa, Mike Keneally, Adrian Belew, and other artists in the art rock vein are sources of inspiration for Opperman; Keneally even makes a cameo guitar solo, tearing it up  on “Are We Living in a Computer Simulation?” 

 

These inspirations are only part of the mix, alongside Opperman’s own distinctive post-tonal concert music. He creates vivacious, complex, and tautly compact pieces on Chamber Music From Hell. A series of number compositions, each around a minute, are cases in point. They combine an acerbic pitch language with pith and wit. “Shades of Beige” is densely scored, and “Longest, Blackest Scarf” is a windswept piece with the rhythmic challenges that Babbitt posed for the RCA synthesizer: here the music is half live/half Synclavier. “Spider Yo-yo” is a grooving canon,  “Dancing Mimic” an ebullient piece for flute and cello, and “Hooded Stick Thinker” adds synth to this complement, with speedy lines in octaves concluding the set. 

 

New Jersey Percussion Ensemble performs “Owl Flight,” with scratches, timpani thrums, and a slowly stroked cymbal introducing the nocturnal sojourns of this most mysterious bird. This is followed by a mid-tempo rhythm with a florid tabla solo played atop it. A full-throated blast from the whole group ends the piece; perhaps the owl has found its prey. “Waking Up” begins sotto voce, a s synth pad providing a modal ostinato over which soaring string melodies are layered. “The Black Ball” is a polymetric prog rock song with more than a hint of “Supper’s Ready” by early Genesis; Ryan Brown plays a rousing drum solo, then joined by bassist Kurt Morgan, and then a full onslaught of keyboards. 

 

Chamber Music from Hell concludes with another suite, the Cribbage Variations. The first few are examples of Klangfarbenmelodie, with angular melodies corruscating throughout. “Mid-December” includes a puckish flute solo played in canon with synth. “Babbitt Time” also finds the muse of the RCA Synthesizer irresistible; Opperman crafts a compelling rendition of Milton Babbitt’s pitch language too. “At the Grave of Anton Webern” adopts the pointillism of the Second Viennese composer and is, of course, short in duration. 

 

Opperman’s piano takes center stage on “The Play,” while “Level Pegging” is a series of synth fanfares. “Muggins” features fast flute flourishes and synth brass interjections. “The 144,000” is a piano solo which begins with mid-register ostinato, followed by thunderous octaves, and then a reprise of the gentle repetitions. “Knock knock Bach” is a fugue for synthesizer and trombone, a demented recasting of the second Well-tempered Clavier fugue. Cribbage Variations’ finale, “The Show,” features dissonant arpeggiations, at first in the soprano register, then in bass octaves. These two registers overlap, and a huge crescendo moves the piece into major with the entire ensemble playing a syncopated groove. The chords are spiced up with extended tones and a gradual diminuendo brings the piece, and album, to a close.

 

Opperman is an imaginative arranger of the heterodox forces at his command. His music is varied and always distinctive. Recommended.

 

-Christian Carey

Classical Music, Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Lincoln Center, New York, Review

Turangalila at New York Philharmonic / Nightcap with Gamelan Dharma Swara

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)
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.

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Piano

Nicholas Chase – Tiny Thunder

Tiny Thunder is a new CD of graceful piano music by Nicholas Chase, released February 10, 2023 by Cold Blue Music. This album includes two new works performed by pianist Bryan Pezzone. The press release for Tiny Thunder states that: “Held in motion by their internal logic, these pieces drift and weave through alluring, often serene musical landscapes.”

Nicholas Chase has enjoyed a long career as a composer and performer. He has appeared in a number of concert festivals in Europe and the US. Chase has participated in the Whitney Biennial in New York and was an inaugural Composer Fellow at the international Other Minds Festival in San Francisco. At the California Institute of the Arts, Chase studied with Morton Subotnick, Bunita Marcus, Stephen L. Mosko, Mary Jane Leach and James Tenney, among others.

While carefully circumscribed within its stylistic boundaries, the piano music of Tiny Thunder is capable of a wide range of expression. Often quiet and serene, there is never any flashy technical excess in the more active stretches and the music is understated even when it turns agitated and turbulent. There is little formal structure or harmonic progression; the refined playing by Bryan Pezzone is the critical element for realizing the composer’s intentions.

Zuòwàng, the first track, opens with a series of soft notes followed by silence that allow the tones to ring out. The tempo is moderate and deliberate so that the simple phrases evoke a settled feeling. Spare harmonies, consisting of two or three tones, gradually add notes from the deep bass registers to provide a reflective sensibility. High plinking notes occur every so often, as if sending a signal. There is no extended melody, just short phrases separated by moments of silence – this is intimate music inviting close listening. Bryan Pezzone’s delicate touch on the keyboard is essential, maintaining a gentle and introspective quality. As the piece proceeds, more notes are added to the phrases and they occasionally break into separate lines for short stretches. There is a final return to the simple phrasing of the opening just before Zuòwàng arrives at its fading finish.

The second track on the CD is Tiny Thunder, a longer piece at almost 20 minutes duration. This piece is written for four hands and was realized in the recording by overdubbing. As with Zuòwàng, this begins with simple piano lines and short phrases in a slow, dreamy tempo. The notes are nicely sustained and brief intervals of silence allow the tones to fully ring out. A shift to the lower piano registers along with more prominent bass notes in the phrasing create a quietly powerful feel. A high melody line against the very low bass notes adds tension. When the phases move up to the middle registers, the rhythms become more agitated and culminate with light tremolos.

Delicate high notes are heard at 6:50, accompanied by solitary deep bass notes. There is an almost ominous feeling in this. As the piece proceeds, single notes heard in the upper registers are joined in harmony by deep, sustained tones below. The tension grows with the higher notes straining for optimism while being weighed down by the lower line. Soon, a fuller harmony is heard with many new notes and roiling tremolos in the phrasing.

Lush and dramatic, waves of sound are soon flowing off the keyboard. A repeating series of high notes is reminiscent of raindrops. The harmonies in the lower registers paint an image of clouds moving across a dark sky. There is a stormy feel with strong phrases and many driving notes. The piece continues on, gradually increasing in tempo and dynamic followed by a swirling, pounding texture. A final low chord rings out to finish the piece. The playing throughout is beautifully expressive without resorting to keyboard histrionics. Tiny Thunder is one long crescendo that builds from a pensive tranquility to a convincingly vigorous tempest without exceeding the expressive limits of its economical musical materials. Tiny Thunder is a polished combination of refined music and a thoughtfully sensitive performance.

Tiny Thunder is available directly from Cold Blue Music.

Contemporary Classical, New York, Piano

Adam Tendler: Inheritances

Adam Tendler (credit Cameron McLeod)

When the pianist Adam Tendler received a windfall of cash a few years ago, he chose not to blow it on such ephemeral items as rent and groceries. Instead, he commissioned 16 composers to write short works, and assembled those into a program called Inheritances which he performed at The 92

nd Street Y, New York on Saturday in the collection’s New York premiere. Inheritances is deeply personal for Tendler: the money was an unanticipated bequest from his father, whose death itself was unexpected.

Nearly all of the music was tender and gentle; an impression that was formed from both the interpretation and the compositions themselves. Though it could have been monotonous from so much music in a similar mood and pace, the evening unfolded as a through-composed work with a discernable emotional arc.

An intense peak at the center of the program was inti figgis-vizueta’s hushing, which was coordinated with home video clips from Tendler’s childhood. It was stark, energetic and physical, with Tendler rising to his feet several times to fiercely pound the keys, alternating with poignant moments in which the Tendler on stage gazed up at the child Adam on the screen.

Inheritances began with an audio montage by Laurie Anderson called Remember, I Created You; after which Tendler, clad in a tight short-sleeved dress shirt that strained to contain his impressively bulging biceps, launched into Missy Mazzoli’s Forgiveness Machine. Mazzoli’s music was beautiful, tonal and lyrical, like many of the works that followed. Prepared piano in Scott Wollschleger’s Outsider Song added a variety of timbre to the lovely lullaby. Angelica Negron’s You Were My Age was whimsical in its staccato melody. What It Becomes by Mary Prescott was eerie and somewhat dissonant, yet still tender. Sarah Kirkland Snider’s rich chorale, the plum tree I planted still there, led into False Memories, a jazz-inflected dreamy piece by Marcos Balter. Pamela Z’s Thank You So Much changed up the texture by including a pastiche of voices mixed on a laptop, with the pattern and rhythm of the speech echoed in the keyboard music.

We don’t need to tend this garden. They’re wildflowers by Darian Donovan Thomas was a new-age style piece over which Tendler intoned an extended monologue of memory fragments. The final selection, Morning Piece by Devonte Hynes, evoked both metal and Bach, and Tendler ended Inheritances with a long slow decrescendo to Hynes’s music.

Ten of the 16 composers were in the audience: Timo Andres, Marcos Balter, inti figgis-vizueta, John Glover, Missy Mazzoli, Mary Prescott, Sarah Kirkland Snider, Darian Donovan Thomas, Scott Wollschleger and Pamela Z (Laurie Anderson, Angelica Negron, Ted Hearne, Christopher Cerrone, Nico Muhly and Devonte Hynes were not able to attend).  As the applause began at the conclusion of the performance, Tendler motioned for the composers to stand. I spotted Pamela Z and Missy Mazzoli in the brief moment before the entire audience was on its feet in a standing ovation, a tribute to Tendler, his late father and the music.

Contemporary Classical

Seattle Symphony announces 2023–24 season

Assistant Principal Cello Nathan Chan (photo: Seattle Symphony)

Seattle Symphony has unveiled its 2023–24 season, replete with familiar repertory (including The Messiah, Bach’s St. John Passion and two Beethoven and Mahler symphonies), plus family concerts, holiday and community events, pop/Hollywood-style programs ranging from Disney and Harry Potter to Joe Hisaishi and David Bowie, and a bevy of blue-chip soloists and guest conductors (Lang Lang, Emanuel Ax, Joshua Bell and Marin Alsop among them). Thomas May has aptly summarized the season’s overall shape and scope, so I’ll focus on its contemporary music offerings, an area where the announced lineup is something of a disappointment.

With no Music Director to provide a coherent vision (the position has been vacant since Thomas Dausgaard’s abrupt resignation in January 2022), and with staff turmoil leading to the departure of Elena Dubinets (the executive behind most of its recent commissions and initiatives, now decamped to LPO) and the discontinuation of the acclaimed [untitled] series (which showcased genres other than conventional orchestral works), the Symphony’s new music programming has become unfocused, even lackluster, with no major commissions forthcoming in the 2023–24 season, nor any mainstage events comparable to 2022’s Buddha Passion, 2019’s Surrogate Cities or 2015’s unveiling (and premiere recording) of the critical edition of Ives’ Fourth Symphony. And although next season’s calendar boasts dozens of 21st century compositions, many of them are in the mold of the mandate-fulfilling, stylistically-inoffensive short works that have become commonplace on North American orchestra programs.

Dalia Stasevska and Lauri Porra (photo: Kari Pekonan)

Nevertheless, there are several highlights to look forward. And what follows is an opinionated listing of some of them:

  • Dalia Stasevska (a successor to Osmo Vänskä as chief conductor of the Lahti Symphony Orchestra) returns to the mainstage to conduct her husband Lauri Porra’s Entropia Concerto for Electric Bass, with Sibelius and Anna Meredith also on the program. Porra is a crossover artist who could be regarded as a Finnish counterpart to someone like Edgar Meyer. He’ll also appear at the Symphony’s Octave 9 space in a chamber work called Cabins & Hideouts. All of these events will be in mid-November
  • Conductor David Robertson, who has an impressive new music pedigree (he was the first American to serve as Ensemble Intercontemporain’s music director), has written a new piano concerto for his other half Orli Shaham. They’ll perform it two weeks after the Porra events, along with Lydia Tár’s favorite Mahler symphony
  • Speaking of Vänskä, he’s slated to return in March—not, alas, to conduct Sibelius. But alongside the scheduled Tchaikovsky and Prokofiev warhorses, his program will include an interesting—and as-yet unrecorded—piece by the Korean-born, London-based Donghoon Shin. Despite its Steinbeck-alluding title, Of Rats and Men, its inspiration comes from Kafka and Bolanõ. In April, Vänskä will premiere another Shin composition (this one inspired by Yeats) with the Los Angeles Philharmonic
  • Alisa Weilerstein arrives to perform Lutosławski‘s Cello Concerto, which might well be his most underrated work, and one in which he rather uncharacteristically establishes an oppositional, dialectic relationship between soloist and orchestra (personal note: many years ago as a student at USC, I played in the Concerto‘s West Coast premiere with Gabor Rejto as soloist)
  • Another April 2024 event features Ralph Vaughan Williams’ often-recorded but rarely-performed Sinfonia Antartica, which the composer adapted from his soundtrack to the 1948 feature film Scott of the Antarctic. This seventh of Vaughan Williams’ nine symphonies is perhaps the least admired of the lot (aside from the non-canonical A Sea Symphony, which is more of an oratorio), often inhabiting an uncomfortable no man’s land between program music and symphonic ambitions. But it’s also one of Vaughan Williams’s most colorful scores, featuring wind machine, organ, and a Sirènes-style women’s chorus. In the manner of last season’s presentation of Messiaen’s Des canyons aux étoiles, the music will be accompanied by a multimedia presentation featuring journal entries and photographs from Scott’s doomed 1910–13 expedition

Steven Mackey (photo: Kah Poon)

The Symphony’s diminutive Octave 9 space will continue its newfound and successful scheme of double Friday night recitals (at 7 PM and 9 PM), which in addition to the aforementioned Cabins & Hideouts event, will include the following:

  • Hub New Music, the Boston-based quartet whose instrumentation duplicates that of the fondly-remembered Seattle Chamber Players (flute, clarinet, violin, cello), will perform on October 6, with a program featuring a world premiere by Nina C. Young, an experimentally-oriented composer who now teaches at USC, along with works by Daniel Thomas Davis and Angélica Negrón
  • February 2 will bring Steven Mackey’s Memoir, scored for string quartet, a pair of percussionists and a narrator. Premiered in May 2022, it’s a theatricalized setting of an unpublished memoir written by Mackey’s late mother (who was also the subject of his violin concerto Beautiful Passing, recently featured on Flotation Device via its premiere recording conducted by David Robertson—if only he would bring that to Seattle!). Mackey is a rock guitarist who got involved in instrumental composition through the influence of the Downtown New York improv scene and the broader international avant-garde—something of an American counterpart to Heiner Goebbels or Steve Martland. His music is often quite engaging in its unexpected juxtapositions of styles, but it can also drift into sentimentality, so I’ll be interested to see where in that spectrum this as-yet unrecorded work falls

Ludovic Morlot at [untitled] 2019 (photo: James Holt/Seattle Symphony)
2023–24 will mark the Symphony’s second full season without a Music Director, and its third full season (added to two COVID-shortened ones) under the leadership of its embattled President & CEO Krishna Thiagarajan. That the organization has returned to a full schedule—and that its musicians have maintained the orchestra’s impressive musical standards—is remarkable under such circumstances, especially given the compounding challenges of the pandemic and the effect of the city’s lingering social and economic ills on its civic and cultural life. Still, it’s hard to look back on the Ludovic Morlot/Simon Woods era (2011–19), with its succession of contemporary music triumphs, often presented through the innovative (and now abandoned) [untitled] series, without feeling a disconcerting sense of nostalgia—a gnawing fear that the glory years of the Northwest’s new music scene have ended, a perception reinforced by the fact that none of the composers, conductors and guest artists mentioned above currently reside in Washington state.

After Morlot’s final [untitled] concert in 2019, I noted how dramatic and reinvigorating his tenure had been for the Symphony, how this “exceptionally charismatic and personable conductor” had “succeeded beyond all expectations at winning the hearts and minds of the city”. Today, Seattle desperately needs another agent of musical rejuvenation. Something that’s not easy to find—but no other musical institution in the region can match the Symphony for prestige, reach and built-in resources. And so as its Board and administration continue their secretive search for the next Music Director, undoubtedly preparing to audition visiting conductors as candidates in the coming season, one can hope that enough hard lessons have been learned, and enough organizational agility regained, that dreams of Emerald-tinted musical splendors will include not just those in the past, but those yet to come as well.