Miles Okazaki – Miniature America (Cygnus Records)
Miles Okazaki – guitar
Jon Ibragon, sopranino saxophone, slide saxophone, voice
Caroline Davis, alto saxophone; Anna Weber, flute, tenor saxophone
Jacob Garchik, trombone, bass trombone
Matt Mitchell, piano; Patricia Brennan, vibraphone
Ganavya, Jen Shyu, Fay Victor, voices
David Breskin, producer
Miles Okazaki’s latest recording, Miniature America, is one in which his compositional process has changed. He spent time sketching elements of sculpturist Ken Price’s work and was also inspired by the intricate line drawings of Sol Lewitt. The pieces created as a result of this research were coined “Slabs” by Okazaki, process pieces that include text, notation, and his own line drawings. These are then performed with a measure of aleatory.
The chance procedures don’t end there. In addition to sung passages, there are also spoken word snippets from various poets, ranging from Sylvia Plath to William Blake. Most of the texts were obtained using a findex, a compendium of final lines from poems. The speech rhythms of these are in turn used by Okazaki and his colleagues to create musical phrases. It is an ingenious amalgam that Okazaki credits to collaboration with producer David Bresken, who first suggested the findex.
There is a masterful group of instrumentalists in Miniature America’s ensemble, as well a trio of female voices that embody both singing and speaking in an equally expressive approach. Sometimes, the musicians and singers hold the same pitches or intone using the same rhythms, at others, such as in the beautiful, soulful “And the Deep River,” a voice takes a melodic solo turn. The album’s opening, “The Cocktail Party,” features pianist Matt Mitchell playing an alt version of cocktail piano while the rest of the space is abuzz with chatter. “The Funambulist” uses a chromatic set of pitches spread out over multiple octaves, with Okazaki and trombonist Jacob Garchik accompanying the voices, which include stratospheric squeaks Swingle Singers style. The participants are willing to bring a lightness to the proceedings that moves alongside the ample virtuosity. Speaking of which, there is “The Funicular,” in which Okazaki, vibraphonist Patricia Brennan, alto saxophonist Caroline Davis, and Garchik trade mercurial riffs with expert timing. “Lookout Below” contains flurries of riffs and dissonant interjections at a hypersonic tempo. “Zodiacal Cloud” is more reserved, but its mysterious chords shimmer in a captivating way.
Miniature America includes many miniature pieces, and the overall feel is of a suite of interconnected music. A longer serving of music is supplied in the penultimate piece, “In the Fullness of Time,” where the players work with drone bass octaves to create overtones, with a melismatic vocal added alongside instrumental arpeggiations. The closing track, “A Clean Slate,” is a spoken fugue with guitar accompaniment, ending with the line, “The Show is Over.” Okazaki’s compositional shift is abundantly rewarding, and Miniature America is highly recommended.
NEW YORK – Composer Louis Karchin has been prolific, even during the pandemic years. In a program at Merkin Concert Hall of chamber works and songs composed between 2018 and 2024, he was abetted by some of New York’s go-to new music performers, who acquitted themselves admirably throughout.
All photos: Julie Karchin.
Stephen Drury is an abundantly talented pianist. But even with a repertoire list as lengthy and challenging as Drury’s, Sonata-Fantasia (2020, New York Premiere) is an imposing addition. The piece is in four large sections combined into a single movement, with elements such as chromatic and bitonal harmonies, chains of angular gestures, trills, and thrumming bass notes appearing frequently. One of the distinctive techniques employed pits a middle register chord repeated against impressionist sounding arpeggios cascaded above and below it. Apart from the meditative third section, sprightly virtuosity ruled the day.
Two Sacred Songs (2018, World Premiere) were workshopped via Zoom during the pandemic. Soprano Marisa Karchin and pianist Steven Beck performed these settings of George Herbert, a seventeenth century poet and Anglican priest. The soprano has radiant top notes, clear diction, and a sure sense of phrasing. “Denial” requires all of these characteristics, its wide vocal range matching the various emotions on display in the poem. Beck is a versatile pianist, who matched Marisa Karchin’s attention to the intricacies of the texts and provided vivid accompaniment. The two were a powerful pair when demonstrating the intensity of “The Storm.”
Beck frequently plays with instrumentalists too, and he performed Sonata quasi un Capriccio (2023, world premiere) with violinist Miranda Cuckson, a longtime collaborator of Karchin’s. This association benefited both piece and performance, as the composer knows how reliable Cuckson is, even in stratospheric altissimo lines. Sonata quasi un Capriccio is a white-hot piece filled with dramatic flair. It closed the first half.
The second half was also a mix of vocal and chamber music. The poet Steven Withrow heard Karchin’s music and was impressed. He approached the composer and suggested providing two texts based on paintings – San Vigilio: A Boat with a Golden Sail by John Singer Sargent and I And the Village by Marc Chagall – for Karchin to set as art songs, the result being Compositions on Canvas (2021, World Premiere). Soprano Alice Teyssier, joined by Beck, clearly reveled in the detailed texts, the first describing Sargent’s relationship to Italian patrons, the second detailing a virtual menagerie of animals found in Chagall’s painting. Karchin’s songs supply many coloristic shifts, dynamic gradations, and widely spaced gestures to encompass the imagery found in Withrow’s words. Teyssier navigated these handily, and Beck’s accompaniment glistened persuasively, particularly in the impressionist-simulating arpeggiations.
The concert concluded with a substantial work that, while maintaining Karchin’s musical language, provides a few hat tips to the concert tradition. Trio for Violin, Cello, and Piano (2019) was performed by the Horszowski Trio: Jesse Mills, violin; Ole Akahoshi, cello; and Rieko Aizawa, piano. Cast in three movements that run over twenty-five minutes, its first movement is marked Allegro con spirito and in sonata form. It begins with a mercurial upward arpeggio in the piano that references the opening gesture of Robert Schumann’s Piano Quintet. This is quickly countered by descending sixteenths. Gradually, lines compact into whorls of stacked thirds and seconds with trills adding zest. The presence of ascent is underscored by upward leaps in a subordinate theme in the cello. The tempo of the development shifts three times, slower and then quicker, with a misterioso section deconstructing the constituent themes. A recapitulation embellishes the material with even more scalar sixteenths, building in intensity until it closes with a forceful, registrally duplicated major third.
The second movement, marked Lento, begins with thirty-second note pile-ups and octave bass notes in the piano undergirding a sustained violin solo. A tremolando duet between the strings is succeeded by sul ponticello playing. The cello and piano imitate the violin’s sustained tune in canon against pulsating piano left hand octaves. A slow chain of rising, alternating intervals unveils a gradual reference to the first movement. Silvery piano arpeggiations and long chromatic ascent in the piano accompany the theme in several string variations.
The final movement, marked Vivace, begins with sustained low F octaves in the piano and a low F tremolando in the cello. The latter instrument adds short trills to abet a triplet-filled motive in the violin. These are succeeded by angular imitation in all three instruments, with the conflict between ascending and descending permutations of similar lines being restored. Pizzicato and trills in the strings are next set against the triplet passages in the piano, the variations in instrumentation opening a potent development section. Eventually, arpeggiations of seconds and fourths succeed the added note triads, and eighth note triplets once again propel the violin. A series of descending sustained bass notes in the piano are set against quarter note triplets in the strings, effectively stretching out the prior thematic material. This is followed by a kaleidoscopic reframing of all the motives from the third movement. The coda has a compound feeling, with quarter note and eighth note triplets overlaid and a fortissimo Bb major chord to conclude.
One of Karchin’s gifts as a composer is the ability to employ a relatively consistent musical language to a number of expressive ends. The variety of the program at Merkin Hall was impressive, as was the high quality of all of the music. One hopes that recordings of these pieces will soon be forthcoming.
With his new solo program, Etudes/Quietudes, Austrian guitarist Wolfgang Muthspiel celebrates the acoustic guitar, the instrument he switched to at the age of 13. (He had been trained to play classical music on violin.) The core of this new recording is a collection of concert etudes composed by .Muthspiel. Each of these 11 etudes explores a different aspect of the music for guitar, ranging from reflective to animated.
The etudes are linked by four other pieces, such as Muthspiel’s heartfelt homage to Bill Evans (“For Bill Evans”); a sarabande by Johann Sebastian Bach (on which he improvises with elements from the sarabande, consisting of 3 pieces); a theme by Paul Motian (“Abacus”), partly improvised; and a fast miniature called,”Triplet Droplet.”
With Etudes/Quietudes, Muthspiel effortlessly spans the gap between the two musical worlds that have been decisive in his musical life: the classical guitar and the art of improvisation derived from jazz. However, this program is not a crossover effort, as Muthspiel blurs the boundaries that might limit his creativity. Both on stage and in the recording studio, the guitarist achieves an intimacy that de-emphasizes the music’s technical demands, yet places a continuous parlando, a constant musical speech, at the center.
Etudes are basic exercises for musicians. They serve to refine certain skills and develop into captivating concert pieces. “I wrote my own etudes to practise certain technical aspects. Then I fell in love with the compositional process they inspired,” says Muthspiel. “Etudes celebrate craft!” he continues, “Craft is a central point for me – all the musicians I admire have spent a lifetime working on their personal sound.“
“The composer and guitarist draws parallels here to meditation and sport and emphasizes the beauty of repeated practice, which he personally enjoys as a grounding ritual. Just like spiritual practices and athletic training, etudes foster a deep-rooted mastery,” he explains. “It’s a basic attitude from which creativity blossoms.”
The new album, Etudes/Quietudes presents compositions that are primarily concert pieces. Muthspiel enjoys playing in front of audiences. Although these pieces are written specifically for the classical guitar, they can also be performed on other instruments. The etudes were recorded at the Vienna Radiokulturhaus. The album was mixed in the south of France with the great Gerard Haro at Studio La Buissonne.
“For me, this album is a musical narrative – a reflection of my journey from violinist to classical guitarist to jazz musician,” shares Muthspiel. “I invite listeners to join me on this sonic journey to experience the essence of my story translated into music.”
Etudes/Quietudes is released on CD and LP on Clap Your Hands (CYH) and is available on all major streaming platforms. In addition, the score with the 11 etudes can be purchased as a download or in the form of a printed music book that also includes the CD.
TRACKS 1. Etude Nr 1 (Tremolo) 3:01 2. Etude Nr. 4 (Pedal) 3:31 3. Triplet Droplet 1:18 4. Etude Nr. 5 (Chords) 1:31 5. Etude Nr. 6 (Triplets) 2:29 6. Etude Nr. 7 (Brahms Minor) 3:41 7. Etude Nr. 8 (Melting Chords) 3:12 8. Etude Nr. 9 (Schildlehen) 2:31 9. Etude Nr. 10 (Sixths) 2:23 10. Etude Nr. 11 (Vamp) 1:36 11. Etude Nr. 12 (Furtner) 3:15 12. Etude Nr 13 (Arpeggio) 1:35 13. Sarabande (Johann Sebastian Bach Lute Suite BWV 995) 1:43 14. Between Two Sarabandes 2:53 15. Sarabande (Reprise) 1:46 16. Abacus (Theme by Paul Motian) 3:02 17. For Bill Evans 3:43
CD AND DOWNLOAD AVAILABLE ON OCTOBER 18, 2024. (CYH0012). WWW.CLAPYOURHANDS.CH
Live Recording at ORF RadioKulturhaus Vienna – “Ö1 Radiosession” Host: Helmut Jaspar / Sound: Martin Leitner Mixed by Gérard de Haro at Studio La Buissonne
By Dana Reason, Oregon State University & Paris Myers, MIT Media Lab
The lights dim. Nothing. Then pink. Sophia, played by Kristin Young, a NY based lyric coloratura, emerges in a neon pink bodysuit. She paces what appears to be a cat walk; both aware of and unbothered by the audience’s presence. Subtly, one of the pianists, Emil Droga, beautifully shapes improvised, ambient atonal phrases–a teaser warm up of sonic whimsy. The opera has begun.
In composer Tod Machover’s 2023 production of VALIS, frequencies of sound and light are woven together with advanced, algorithmic instruments to investigate the multidimensional nature of one’s reality. The opera is an adaptation of Philip K. Dick’s 1981 science fiction classic, VALIS, which follows the life of Horselover Fat, a schizophrenic man whose existence becomes consumed by a beam of pink light so visceral and otherworldly it could only be generated by God.
The story of VALIS first captured Machover ‘s imagination in 1987, while working with famed IRCAM composer and conductor Pierre Boulez. Machover was commissioned to write the first iteration of his opera VALIS for the Pompidou Center. His avant-garde use of improvisation, novel technology, and popular music history throughout the score is a testament to the innovative voice of the composer. In its 2023 premiere, VALIS provocatively investigates asynchronous, simultaneous existences. With its integration of AI and interactive systems, you’d think it was constructed yesterday. Machover’s creation of VALIS 35 years ago is a testament to his visionary musical, multimodal approach.
There is no orchestral pit in Machover’s 2023 production – the musicians are integrated in the same plane on stage–perhaps a modernist reckoning. The ensemble consists of several instruments: synthesizers, percussion instruments, and piano.Physically, the stage is triangulated with musicians on the audience’s left, separated by a walkway pointing going towards the audience, with the actors and singers to the right. Screens of all eras and sizes checker the stage, coaxing the viewer’s attention to and from timelines. Live video feed toggles between real and filtered existence. Feeding and refeeding us images; viewer and viewed.
With multiple perspectives of sensorial intake possible at any time throughout the production, the composer (Machover) and director (Jay Scheib) simultaneously occupy alternate spaces: Machover conducting the work he composed, Scheib, performing live video of the work he directed. Scheib’s live video is supplemented by other cast members gingerly holding video cameras. Screens became a vessel for the audience to feel an interactivity with the actors–to feel embedded in the characters’ happenings.
The main character of Horselover Fat–Philip K. Dick’s alter-ego–is played by artist-vocalist Davóne Tines. Tines, who recently performed in various operas such as Anthony Davis’ X:The life and Times of Malcom X, immediately reminds us of the power, deep sensitivity, and grit required to embody such a complex character–musically and psychologically. Vocally, Tines’ range exquisitely captures fleeting moments of euphoria and prolonged emotional chaos through his classically operatic and refreshingly original style.
Visually and sonically, real time improvisation and reactions create a living pulse between the composition, the performers, and their working with live technologies. This immediacy of working with responsive technologies creates alternative senses of space-time, being and non-being, conscious and unconscious–real and imagined narratives.
New instruments are imagined and actualized real-time throughout the opera, demonstrating the next generation of co-composition between humans and intelligent musical machines. “Mini’s Jar,” a hand-held prism-like jar is discretely covered with sensors that transmit the performer’s creative, human input to a custom musical A.I created by Manaswi Mishra. Max Addae performs on stage with his new instrument “VocalCords.” Real time, he shapes and expresses musical tension–emotional vocal textures are magically reimagined through A.I. powered instrumentation.
A wide sonic spectrum envelops the audience–from very high notes arced into emotional invocations and evocations to the expressionistic deep bass-baritone sound of David Cushing (Dr. Stone). Timur Bekbosunov, (as character Eric Lampton), shares an evocative duet with soprano Maggie Finnegan. Rose Hegele (as Gloria Double), pulls us into her character with luminescent expressivity and an earthiness. The percussionist, Maria Finkelmeier is central to the energy, and the thrusts of change that Machover’s music embodies. There is counterpoint, and polyphony throughout: lighting, screens, sounds, interactive sheets of sounds, sparseness, then density (the kind you feel from a romp with a Cecil Taylor big band) and variance (the feeling of a Yiddish folk song at one point, a throwback to big early synth pop-rock and blues inspired American music).
Machover conducts a row of synthesizers with no bodies playing them. One hears large swaths and patches of synths (and string music, but no strings). Unisons between the ensemble and vocalists act as a poignant creation of melodic syntax. The listener sinks into the sound, and is nearly swept away as it passes through the body of the audience.
VALIS rewards curiosity. And it will move you. It understands our collective reckoning with transient and nebulous systems. Chaotic, multivariate systems. But it’s not chaos. It makes perfect sense. The physicality of sound, movement, melody, and attention are always centered and central. The audience is invited to enter a private space. A memory, a life lived, a sound. Participate in the sensorial feast however you so choose.
Review of Valis: MIT Theater Arts Performance Cambridge, MA Sept 8-10, 2023
Untuxed, a series of informal, intermission-less Friday-night concerts, returned to Seattle Symphony last night in the hands of its inaugurator, Ludovic Morlot, the Symphony’s former Music Director and current Conductor Emeritus. The program consisted solely of Shostakovich’s wartime Eighth Symphony (1943), a massive piece that can betray a deficient ensemble, with its multitude of lengthy and exposed solos for woodwinds, cello and violin (whose associations with death and funeral music in European are readily embraced by its composer), and by the perennial balance challenges posed by Shostakovich, whose legacy is littered with the corpses of performances that conveyed only two dynamic levels: with brass and without brass.
The Eighth is also a piece that has languished in the shadow of its neighbors, including the epic Fourth Symphony (banished before its premiere in 1936, and still unheard at the time the Eighth was composed, suggesting that Shostakovich might have intended the latter as a substitute for the former), the popular Fifth (whose first movement is echoed by its counterpart in the Eighth with its broad tempo and dotted rhythms that are interrupted midway through by a rough march), the Sixth (whose long, slow first movement is followed by two faster, shorter ones), and the martial Seventh and autobiographical Tenth. No. 8, in fact, had only been mounted once before by Seattle Symphony: in 1985 conducted by the composer’s son Maxim.
For all these reasons, Morlot’s selection of the Eighth to anchor the season’s first subscription week (whose full-length Thursday and Saturday concerts additionally featured Boulez and Ravel) was an audacious one, especially coming right after the ensemble’s summer layoff, and requiring part-time players to to cover the additional flute, bassoon and percussion parts plus a fortified complement of low strings).Happily, the musicians were more than ready for the task. The sparse audience attending the huge onstage forces experienced the full expressive and dynamic range set out by the composer, starting with the somber main theme of the opening Adagio, presented by the first violins with minimal vibrato in contrast to the lusher tone used for the more extroverted second theme. The piercing climax that came ten minutes later was the loudest unamplified sonority I can recall hearing at Benaroya Hall since Bluebeard’s Castle in 2012, and its subsidence into the prolonged English horn solo that concludes the movement was handled exquisitely by the Symphony’s longtime specialist Stefan Farkas (who received the first soloist’s bow afterwards).The mechanistic viola melody that launches the second of the work’s two scherzos is the one excerpt from the Eighth that regularly gets quoted in popular media—usually in connection with wartime Russia. Its rendition Friday night was aptly militant but not muddled. The clattering climax that concludes this movement was another high point, with the drums’ brutal at the forefront, but not enough to drown out the dotted figures in the remaining instruments, whose subsidence from fff to pp as the fourth movement’s passacaglia theme emerges was another transition whose dynamic subtlety is often lost in less careful hands.The success continued in the closing Allegretto, which requires virtuosity from many instruments (including the bass clarinet), plus enough interpretive restraint to convey the slightest touch of optimism at the work’s C major conclusion (Mariss Jansons calls it “a small light at the end of a very long tunnel” that’s possibly just an illusion).
Shostakovich has always been one of the 20th century’s most controversial and contradictory composers. Haunted by censorship and the threat of imprisonment (or worse), his music was championed by Britten and Bernstein, and praised by Rudolf Barshai for “leaving its blood on the stage”, but also dismissed as “bad Mahler” and “battleship grey” by Boulez and Robin Holloway. Whatever one’s feelings about it, though, it’s impossible to survey the landscape of late- and post-Soviet music—Schnittke, Silvestrov, Ustvolskaya, Pärt, Gubaidulina, etc.—without recognizing its inexorable connection to Shostakovich. Unlike Prokofiev, who was arguably a greater composer, but a historical dead-end who left no stylistic heirs, Shostakovich articulated a world view that managed to embody the experience and expression of multiple generations of Eastern European composers.
Seattle Symphony has had a long affinity for Shostakovich, extending back to Gerard Schwarz’s lengthy tenure as Music Director. The presence of several orchestra members who grew up in the Soviet Union surely helps as well. In that sense it’s fitting for his music to accompany the resumption of the Untuxed series following a 2½ year absence brought on by post-COVID consolidation and the executive turmoil that reached a head with the acrimonious departure of Thomas Dausgaard as Music Director in January 2022, leaving a gap that will finally be filled by Xian Zhang’s arrival in Fall 2024. It’s a testament to the caliber of its musicians and the leadership of its section principals that the artistic standards of the Symphony have remained so high despite the organization’s offstage issues.
Jennifer France, soprano; Lotte Betts-Dean, mezzo-soprano
Volker Hemken, bass clarinet
James Crabb, accordion
Juho Pohjonen, piano
Andrey Lebedev, classical guitar
Swedish Chamber Orchestra
Brett Dean, violist and conductor
Composer and violist Brett Dean has spent a number of years engaging with Hamlet, creating a controversial, successful, and musically compelling eponymous opera premiered in the UK in 2017 and subsequently produced at the Metropolitan Opera. Rooms of Elsinore (BIS, 2024) collects pieces serving as character sketches written in advance of the opera, those recasting material from the opera that premiered concurrently or subsequent to its premiere, and new musical imaginings of Hamlet. It is fascinating to compare to the opera’s music, but one needn’t have heard it to find Rooms of Elsinore an engaging stand alone listen.
The vocal work And Once I Played Ophelia is sung by soprano Jennifer France, who is accompanied by the Swedish Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Dean. Its text is adapted from Shakespeare by Matthew Jocelyn, and it is a visceral piece cast in five movements. Interestingly, Jocelyn uses words that Ophelia says in the play and also lines directed at her (Hamlet’s “get thee to a nunnery”) The first section, marked “Fast, breathless,” is rife with stridency (a deliberate expression, not because France’s voice is anything but pliant) and intense, angular lines. “Hushed, distant, mysterious” begins with pianissimo utterances that indeed sound far off. Eventually, the singing moves closer in the soundstage, now lyrical yet enigmatic in expression. The third movement, marked “Fast, agitated,” uses the text “This is the ecstasy of love” as a recurrent motif that is elaborately described. France demonstrates adroitly rendered, ringing high notes alongside intimidating vocal fry. Dean employs brisk ostinatos with tritone weighted harmonies to add to the hysteria. It closes with a breathless recitative passage, as if all the energy has dissipated like the air from a balloon. The music moves attacca into the fourth section, “extremely still.” From questioning pianissimo to altissimo sustained notes, an entire range of expressive vocality is brought to bear in the “willow tree” text by France. The section concludes with a high register cello solo recasting some of the soprano’s music. The final section, “Slow austere,” begins by harmonizing the cello’s music with the string section, with clarion sostenuto lines followed by ones in supple decrescendo, employing the “Good night ladies … sweet ladies” text. The piece ends with a mysterious, thwarted gesture in the instruments. And Once I Played Ophelia … brings the listener straight into the soundworld of Dean’s Hamlet, and is superlatively performed by France and the Swedish Chamber Orchestra.
Dean and pianist Juho Pohjonen play the duo The Rooms of Elsinore, each musically describing part of the castle. It begins with “I. The Dark Gate,” with descending scalar string lines set against sepulchral bass melodies in the piano. Gradually, the viola and piano crescendo and ascend together to their high registers. The viola then plays rhythmic lines against chordal sections in the piano, the stringed instrument bridging to the second movement with an altissimo ostinato. “II. The Four Gate Courtyard” continues the viola line alongside lush verticals from the piano amid tuplet flourishes. A gradual decrescendo closes the movement, only to be followed closely upon by “III. The Platform,” with a sliding tone abetted theme in the viola against repeated notes and arpeggiations, including a bass register flourish, in the piano. A pause is followed by the viola descending in sliding harmonics against low register punctuations in the piano. Open strings close the movement. “IV. The King’s Chamber” positively bustles with florid runs, pizzicato passages, ascending chromatic harmonies, and quick attacks. As the centerpiece of the piece’s seven-movement framework, it is the longest movement (4’02”), and also the most developmentally consistent, presenting as a rondo. Sustained viola with microtones and punctilious fragments from the piano are developed in “V. The Chapel,” while silences are interspersed by duo attacks in “VI. The Queen’s Chamber,” which part way through splits runs between them. The movement ends with repeated note passages and a chromatic viola melody contrasted with color chords in the piano. Rooms of Elsinore concludes with “VII. The Trumpeter’s Tower,” in which repeated bass notes in the piano are juxtaposed with high chords and a liquescent viola melody. A long decrescendo ensues, with high viola harmonics and a slowed-down set of piano harmonies.
Photo: Bettina Stoess
Gertrude Fragments is performed by mezzo-soprano Lotte Betts-Dean and classical guitarist Andrey Lebedev. “I cast thy knighted color off” begins the group with a wide-ranging, angular setting. Betts-Dean has a versatile instrument, with a strong lower register and blossoming high notes. The guitar part is well-crafted, with elements of lute songs alongside chromatic harmonies and modernist gestures, notably the acerbic attacks in the second song, “Wring from him my cause.” The texts are adaptations of statements by Hamlet’s mother, Gertrude. They are more aphoristic than the Ophelia texts, but still afford wide emotional range. The third song, “My too much changed son,” is melismatic, almost sobbing at its beginning before a sense of gravitas is regained. “How is’t with you?” is the shortest and sparest of the songs, almost a preparation for the concluding “If words be made of breath,” which includes plaintive sighs alongside glissandos.
Bass clarinetist Volker Hemken performs Confessio, a ten minute long solo that references the entrance of Polonius. It is a technical tour-de-force, depicting the emotional tumult of the scene in lines throughout the compass of the instrument, special techniques, and a wide dynamic range.
In the final piece, accordionist James Crabb is the soloist in the twenty-minute long concerto The Players. Material from the analogous scene in the opera included Crabb as part of the cast, playing alongside pantomiming actors. The concerto includes an introduction and closing material for Crabb added to musical material from the opera, deftly translated in its scoring for the ensemble. In the play/opera, Hamlet nearly loses control of his faculties, with manic explosions and a clear desire for revenge. The scene is depicted not only by the accordion, but taunting winds, bumptious percussion, and bitonal strings.
The Players is an energetic closer for Rooms of Elsinore, an inspiring recording that suggests that Dean’s obsession with Hamlet may have room yet for more music about the dark prince of Denmark. If the works here are his last exploration of the play, Dean is still left with a tremendous legacy. One of my favorites recordings thus far in 2024.
Okay, I’ll admit it; this year I’m having a bit of trouble letting go of summer. Especially because September has brought the temperature down just enough to enjoy being outside; not so the new normal of climate change we experienced in July. The band Cal in Red seems similarly preoccupied. They released a number of singles during the summer, including the excellent “Kitchen,” on which they are joined by James Mercer (The Shins, Broken Bells). But the band held off on releasing their debut album Low Low until August 30th. It’s worth the wait.
They are a duo of brothers, Connor and Kendall Wright, from Grand Rapids, Michigan, and share vocal and instrumental duties in the studio. Low Low is indie rock, but with a delicate touch. Auto-tuned vocals are used as a texture rather than because of any liabilities. “Flagstaff” has a loping vocal chorus undergirded by powerful rhythm guitar and emphatic, economical drumming. It has a recently released video that shows the band in an Arizona tour stop and onstage, where Kendall plays guitar and Connor bass and synthesizers. “My Love” has duet vocals, an overlapping set of riffs as lead-in material to the verses and bridge. and soaring falsetto in the chorus.
“Boyfriend” is filled with eighth note repetitions in the bass-line and short syncopations in the rhythm guitar. A wash of synths and gradually unfolding vocals supply a slower layer, warmly spacious in its delivery. “1985” casually references that bygone era with art rock guitars and vocoder. “Frontside” is not only the best song Cal in Red has released to date, it also has a video that is an homage to countless eighties films. From the club to watching an apartment from the street, an innocent crush moves to obsession.
Low Low is a memorably tuneful debut that listeners may want to play on their way to the beach – just one more time.
Olivia De Prato, violin;Victor Lowrie Tafoya, viola;
Constance Volk, flute; Szilárd Benes and Katherine Jimoh, clarinet
Mivos Quartet, Quatuor Bozzini
Ensemble Dal Niente, Michael Lewanski, conductor
On Geister, a double-CD release on Kairos, the music of Joël-François Durand receives benchmark performances by some of the best performers in contemporary classical music today. It features works from 2005-2022. Originally from France and currently based in the United States, Durand is Professor of Composition and Director of the School of Music at the University of Washington.
Over the course of his career, Durand has increasingly used microtones in his works. Since 2019, he has added the technique “beating,” in which two pitches are placed very close together, creating strong fluctuations. Another signature aspect of his style is intricate development of linear material.
His First String Quartet (2005), played here with fastidious detail by the Mivos Quartet, predates this investigation, but its use of simultaneous pizzicato and arco attacks, microtonal duets, and altered bowing, makes for an intricate musical surface. Written in the same year is In the Mirror Land, a duetplayed by Constance Volk, flute, and Katherine Jimoh, clarinet. The technique of shadowing, with the clarinet slowly emerging from its overlapping into the background, is important to the piece. Then the duo supply heterophonic overdubs of strident lines. La descente de l’ange (2022), for violin and clarinet, played by violinist Olivia De Prato and clarinetist Szilárd Benes, addresses similar concerns, but with its own distinct formal trajectory.
De Prato also provides a tour de force performance of the solo work In a Weightless Quiet (2020). At twelve minutes long, the intensity of the piece’s energy never flags.The use of open strings in the aforementioned beating technique appears at structural points in the piece. Then fortissimo fast repeated notes and bowed glissandos are juxtaposed against the beating, harmonics. and multi-stops. It finishes with altissimo secundal passages, double stops, and harmonics – a difficult piece delivered with élan.
Ensemble dal Niente, conducted by Michael Lewanski, performs Mundus Imaginalis (2015), the largest of the works programmed. Bass drum and a clattering metallic ostinato supply a syncopated groove. Lines overlap, at times contrapuntally, at others doubling to create reinforced textures. The tempo fluctuates, and semitones suggest cadences, only to be canceled swiftly by dissonant verticals. The incorporation of microtones intensifies as the piece progresses. Forte lower brass and chimes are added as it reaches its climax. Then a gradual denouement with a slowing of the percussive groove, chimes, colorful chords, repeated notes in the harp, and sustained wind solos that disassemble the opening material. Overtone verticals provide the piece with a stirring conclusion.
Geister, schwebende Geister … (2020) is a highlight. It also uses off-kilter percussion, corruscating melodic intervals, and open strings against small intervals to create beating and copious glissandos. Soloist Victor Lowrie Tafoya and Ensemble dal Niente, conducted by Lewaski, provide a fantastic performance that would serve as an excellent introduction for anyone curious about Durand’s music.
Cast in four movements, String Quartet No. 2 (2020), “Cantar de amigo,” played by Quatuor Bozzini, once again begins by bringing together previously mentioned techniques: the pulsation of tight beating intervals, sharp attacks, and bent sustained notes. Another texture prominent in the quartet is repeated notes set against glissandos. The tuning pitch, A = 440Hz., appears over and over, treated by all of the aforementioned techniques rather than settling into the in-tune version one would expect to hear before the beginning of an orchestra piece. The second movement begins to add harmonics above the A. The third movement puts hollow retorts of different notes below A, most relating to fifths above and below (E + D: other open strings found in the quartet in conventional tuning). The A bends this way and that, with microtonal glissandos distressing its centricity. With loud utterances, a high E starts to take prominence, only for A’s to cluster against it, and then low open strings weigh in as well. The only movement that begins attacca is the last, which at nine and a half minutes is of a significantly longer duration than those preceding. It begins once again with glissandos, but this time these start in the low strings, only gradually having all registers represented. In addition, some move in lower sliding figures, thus are higher up on the stringboard than the usual open sonorities. This creates a bit more of a covered sound. Midway through, octave A’s make a veritable cadence, only to be replaced by beating seconds in various registers. After a significant absence, a dash of repeated notes enter. Overlapping glissandos create a swath of blurred sonorities that persists throughout the middle section of the movement. Multi-octave A’s continue to announce each sectional division. As the piece progresses, glissandos ascend and descend into overlapping, mutable pitch schemes. High B cancels the penultimate octaves, leading to a final section in which the glissandos first grow smaller, prevailingly microtonal, and then wend their way towards A played pianissimo and cut off abruptly. String Quartet No. 2 is a combination of centricity, ambiguity, and extended harmony: a fascinating and successful work played with riveting poise and superlative attention to the smallest details by Quatuor Bozzini.
Geister is a collection to which I plan to regularly return to listen. It is one of my favorite recordings of 2024.
On the 18th and 19th of August Dave Smith’s 75th birthday was celebrated at Café Oto with two concerts of his music, performed by Jan Steele, Janet Sherbourne, and himself. Each concert began with Smith, who is an extremely masterly pianist performing works of his, and concluded with Steele and Sherbourne performing his major work, Albanian Summer.
Albanian Summer was written in 1980 for Steele and Sherbourne, and performed widely by them for a while. These performances were the first in about 30 years. The work is a sort of travelog of a number of summers that Smith spent in Albania in the 1970s, and includes over its approximately 45 minute duration evocations of Albanian bagpipes (which is how the piece starts), Albanian Communist “anthems,” folksongs, and dances. On both evenings it was engaging and enjoyable and rousing. The performances were completely compelling.
The first concert began with Smith playing three quite substantial works. On the Virtues of Flowers, a half hour long piece, celebrates the therapeutic and restorative powers of flowers as part of a treatment of hospital patients, and was written for a concert by John Tilbury to mark the 30th anniversary of a hospital of the West Sussex Health Authority. The sort of jazzy meditative music which begins and ends the work frames what might be described as post minimalist fast and flashy material. The other two works on the concert were shorter and possibly more dynamic pieces, which were originally intended as parts of a set (Smith has written a number of evening long sequences of sorter pieces which he calls piano concerts), that he says “never materialized.” Nails is forceful and hard as. All This and Less came together as a reaction to a review of a concert of music by friends and associates of Smith’s by Nicholas Kenyon in the Financial Times in 1979: “Satie without the wit; Ravel without the grace; Cage without the silence; Rakhmaninov without the tunes: the recent music of Gavin Bryars and John White is all this, and less.”
The second evening’s concert began with Smith playing fourteen pieces from his First Piano Concert. The Concert was a reaction to the more than one hundred tangos that were written by many composers, including Smith, for the Tango Project of Yvar Mikhashoff. Hearing one of Mikhashoff’s “Tango Marathons” at the Almeida Festival in 1985, Smith thought that “it was apparent that many of the featured composers had not seriously engaged with any form of tango.” In reaction he wrote a set of 24 pieces for piano, each 3 to 4 minutes long, each one “relating to specific musical genres or piano playing styles, western or non-western, well-known or obscure, real or imagined.” The fourteen played on this concert included as well as a tango and a bossa nova, a Charleston, a Calypso, and Hokey Cokey, and some vaguer forms: Afterhours, Nocturne, and Avash Avash (which is an arrangement of a section of Albanian Summer.) Smith’s playing in both evenings was powerful and satisfying.
Both of the concerts were, to put it one way, well attended, or, to put it another way, mobbed; and both were full of the joviality that one would expect from a birthday party. So not only did they offer the opportunity to experience a sizable and satisfying sampling of a serious and impressive composer’s work, they also were a festive celebration of that composer’s accomplishments.
The Prom on August 10 was presented by The National Youth Orchestra, conducted by Alexandre Bloch and Tess Jackson. The 160 members of the orchestra, who completely filled the stage, were joined by the almost as large cohort of NYO Inspire, who were in various places in the hall, including the gallery, some boxes, the choir seating areas behind the stage, and, eventually, in the aisles of the stalls. The program began with the Overture to The Flying Dutchman by Richard Wagner, and concluded with the Symphony No. 1 of Gustav Mahler. In between those were two works, Orpheus Undone by Missy Mazzoli and Three, Four, AND… by Dani Howard , which was a BBC co-commission, receiving its first performance.
The Mazzoli, written in 2020, is, of course, concerned with the Orpheus story, which, as Mazzoli said in an interview for the Chicago Symphony, where she was composer-in-residence, “has been told a million times.” The present work was based on material from her earlier (2019) ballet about the Orpheus story, Orpheus Alive. Mazzoli said that Oprheus Undone “focuses on a very specific, small moment of the story, right when Eurydice has died and gone to the underworld, and has left Orpheus.” Steve Smith, in his program note for the Proms concert, speculates that there, in fact, might be more it: he thinks that the piece is concerned with “how, in times of trauma, time comes unstuck; sped up to a frenetic pace and slowed to near stasis seemingly at once.” The beginning of the first part of the piece, entitled ‘Behold the Machine, O Death,’ is marked by a regularly repeating wood block beats against which are strands of other music suggesting varying other tempos. The beats of the wood block disappear and periodically recur, but the pulse it marked seems constant in various ways, playing out against the opposing pulses, suggesting the variability of the perception of time. The second section, entitled ‘We of Violence, We Endure,’ suggest the pondering of an event in its aftermath, and is marked by piano figuration, wandering and eventually melting into the greater orchestral texture, which then fades away. All of this is very effective and moving and was performed with enormous understanding and commitment by the orchestra, conducted by Bloch.
Three, Four, AND… by Dani Howard, who was during the time of its composition the NYO’s resident artist, was written with a fair amount of input and interaction with the orchestra’s members, to celebrate the tenth anniversary of NYO Inspire. Howard wrote a tune called As One, which members were encourage to make their version of and record and upload. During the orchestra’s spring residency members made suggestions as to things they would like to see included in this piece, which was composed specifically for the Proms concert. The original tune and those requests were incorporated into the final work. Three, Four, AND… is an ebulliently optimistic work, offering a kaleidoscopic array of different very effective orchestral textures, some including unusual sound effects, expertly shaped to reveal the next cohort of musicians, leading to the concluding climax. The orchestra was conducted in this work by Jackson.
The concert concluded with a masterful performance of the Mahler First Symphony and a really staggeringly wonderful encore (which can be found at about 2:11:36 in the recording of the concert). It would be hard to oversell the many awesome qualities of the concert, which was brimming with playing that was as accurate and precise as one could ever hope for and at the same time so full of commitment and enthusiasm. The recording of this concert can be found for a limited time at ttps://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m0021r1f.