Cello, Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, New York, Orchestras

Sphinx Virtuosi and New York Philharmonic Play Black American Composers

Cellist Seth Parker Woods with New York Philharmonic, Thomas Wilkins conducting. Music by Nathalie Joachim on October 17, 2024 (credit: Chris Lee)

Black American composers dominated the programming at two of New York City’s major institutions last week — a 180° turn from the typical fare of Dead White Men at most orchestral concerts.

On Wednesday, October 16, Carnegie Hall presented Sphinx Virtuosi — the flagship ensemble of the Sphinx Organization, an organization whose mission it is to encourage careers of Black and Latino classical musicians and arts administrators. Thursday at Lincoln Center’s Geffen Hall was New York Philharmonic’s program “Exploring Afromodernism” — a program which was repeated on Friday. Both concerts featured outstanding and committed performances of mainly 21st century classical works.

Sphinx Virtuosi at Carnegie Hall on October 16, 2024 (credit Brian Hatton)

Sphinx Virtuosi is a conductorless chamber orchestra of 18 Black and Latino string players. It can be hard to pull off cohesive performances without a conductor, but it was immediately apparent that this ensemble was up to the task. The concert began with a reworking of Scott Joplin’s overture to his opera Treemonisha, arranged by Jannina Norpoth. The work infused classical gestures with blues, gospel and a bit of ragtime. The most effective and exciting selection was the world premiere of Double Down, Invention No. 1 for Two Violins by Curtis Stewart, performed by Njioma Chinyere Grievous and Tai Murray. It was a brilliant display of virtuosity from both violinists, playing off one another in a keen game of counterpoint which included a fiery display of fiddling as well as percussive foot-stomping. The audience roared its approval with a lengthy standing ovation. Stewart’s other work on the program was the New York premiere of Drill (co-commissioned by Carnegie Hall, Sphinx Virtuosi and New World Symphony). Percussionist Josh Jones, a member of the ensemble, was the soloist. It was a wild piece with frenetic drumming countered by subtle moments of gentle trills on wood blocks. All in all, it was a roiling cluster of excitement.

Music by Derrick Skye, Levi Taylor and the 19th century Venezuelan-American Teresa Careña, rounded out the brief program, which included a five-minute promotional film and comments by Sphinx Organization president Afa Dworkin.

The New York Philharmonic’s program was a wonderful display of a range of talents and generations conducted by Thomas Wilkins. It began with Carlos Simon’s Four Black American Dances, which impressed right away with the composer’s great orchestration. The rich first movement showcased the brilliant playing of every section of the Philharmonic, including a rollicking solo by concertmaster Sheryl Staples, who showed off her great artistry later in the work as well. After a somewhat schmaltzy second movement (“Waltz”) and predictably percussive third (“Tap!”), the final section (“Holy Dance”) began with a mystical aura which devolved into a loud and jaunty display.

The New York premiere of Nathalie Joachim’s concerto Had To Be, written for the cellist Seth Parker Woods began with an off-stage band replicating a New Orleans-style “second line.” After a smooth transition into a slow and lush passage by the orchestra on stage, the solo cellist had a lyrical soulful melody. The second movement, “Flare” launched with boisterous brass and percussion, which tended to drown out the strings. “With Grace,” the final movement, was beautifully emotional. Though the soloist wasn’t given an especially virtuosic part, Woods’ stage presence dominated throughout the work. Wilkins graceful conducting infused an appropriate amount of emotion into the performance.

David Baker’s Kosbro was intense from its very beginning, with driving rhythms, insistent timpani whacks, double-tongued brass and winds and angular melodies. Written in the 1970s, the work was an effective combination of jazz and classical styles.

William Grant Still’s gift for melody, harmony and orchestration made me wonder why this particular work – Symphony No. 4, Autochthonous, (the subtitle refers to indigenous people) isn’t programmed more often. Still’s superb orchestra writing balanced winds and strings in a dialogue which Wilkins navigated beautifully, each exchange infused with profound meaning.

Beyond the demographics of the composers, a similarity on both of these programs was that each of the works by the living composers was an olio of styles. In each case, the creators sought to include a variety of folk, pop, jazz and other cultural idioms in a single composition. It may be unfair to generalize, because the selections were undoubtedly programmatic decisions. I promise not to make a broad generalization until I hear more music from each of these composers, which I am eager to do.

With regard to the focus of these two concerts, I am going to say something very unpopular: Nobody is proclaiming that there aren’t enough White rappers or that Anglos aren’t well enough represented in, say, Latin jazz or conjunto music. And yet in recent years there has been great emphasis on striving for diversity in classical music. I’m not saying we shouldn’t work very hard to be inclusive of all Americans — or of all peoples in general for that matter — to be a part of this art form, this culture. I’m wondering aloud why it seems especially crucial in classical music.

Let’s discuss.

Be that as it may, the Sphinx Organization has been a leader in encouraging careers and celebrating people of color in classical music for over 25 years. They have done an admirable — nay amazing — job, welcoming hundreds of young musicians into the art form, creating role models for future generations, and creating an environment in which it is not only comfortable, but encouraging for young musicians to get involved and excel in the field.

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

Splinter Reeds – Dark Currents (Recording Review)

Splinter Reeds – Dark Currents (Cantaloupe)

 

Splinter Reeds, the West Coast’s first wind quintet, has distinguished themselves as advocates for living composers. Dark Currents, their latest recording for Cantaloupe, features two twenty-ish minute long pieces, Tall Grass (2022) by the totalist composer and Bang on a Can member Michael Gordon, and Antenna Studies (2018) by Paula Matthusen, a professor at Wesleyan who is one of the finest experimental electronic composers of her generation; both works were written for Splinter Reeds.

 

Gordon  has steadily developed an eclectic musical language that exhibits fluency and variety in large scale forms. The entire first section of Tall Grass is about ascent, with overlaid ostinatos in polyrhythms reaching for the skies. Alongside the melodic material are held notes that accompany and intersperse them, as well as periodic rests. The lines drop out for a long held altissimo note, then resume, the bass clarinet joining with a microtonal scale. The brakes are put on the section by a held low note, followed by an effects-filled solo from the bass clarinet. In the next section, the material slows, creating triadic arpeggiations that both ascend and descend, with octave leaps in the bass. It is like the aural equivalent of a close-up. A chorale-like passage ensues, and the section cadences in mid-register octaves and trills. The fast tempo returns with the melody ghosted in pairs and passages of hemiola that gradually unravel into their constituent elements and then knit back together, punctuated by multiphonics. The slow tempo returns in a soft, mysterious section. A galloping fortissimo passage announces the piece’s climax, rife with repeated notes. A denouement provides a slender version of the piece’s original ascent, and Tall Grass ends with an inconclusive single note. 

 

Matthusen’s Antenna Studies starts pianissimo with half tuned-in radio blasts and held sine tones, and sampled percussion, followed by non-pitched wind sounds, such as breath and pops. Sustained single tones in the winds enter on the same pitch as the electronics and accompanied by flashes of radio static. Brief canonic passages are introduced, with secundal intervals and deliberate detuning used to create beats. Sustained bass clarinet arrives two octaves lower, working its way up harmonic partials, soon followed up an octave and then haloed by electronics. The entire group soon engages in holding notes and hocketing in various registers. An interlude contains repeating patterns, warm synth chords, a held altissimo note and, once again, a plethora of non-pitched wind sounds. Overlapping mixed interval scales, the winds re-enter as the electronics recede to an upper register drone. A general crescendo is sculpted from repeated notes in the winds and another secundal tune, this time in the electronics.  Uptempo ostinatos, interspersed by a tart chord, continue alongside a wide registral swath of electronics. There is a long decrescendo in which a sampled voice joins sustained winds, closing with the electronics and acoustic instruments finally on equal footing

 

The two pieces that are on Dark Currents contrast well. Both are strong additions to their respective composers’ catalogs  that benefit from skillful playing and artful musicality by Splinter Reeds. Recommended.

 

  • Christian Carey

 

 

Chamber Music, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Tuesday, October 15th: Sacred and Profane, Sirota and Clement at Symphony Space

Tuesday, October 15th: Sacred and Profane, Sirota and Clement at Symphony Space

 

Tomorrow, Robert Sirota and Sheree Clement, two New York based composers,  combine forces to present Sacred and Profane, a shared portrait concert at Symphony Space (7:30 PM, tickets here). Sirota may be best known for his stints as President at Peabody and Manhattan School of Music, but he’s remained active as a composer all along. Clement has also been involved as an arts administrator, having served as President of League of Composers/ISCM, Executive Director for New York New Music Ensemble, and, currently, on the board of Association for the Promotion of New Music. Like Sirota, Clement’s primary activities are as a composer. Her works bring together political engagement, humor, and dramatic, often staged, presentations. 

 

The musicians performing are a bevy of NYC’s finest contemporary players: soprano Ariadne Greif, baritone Paul Pinto, the Momenta Quartet, cellist Benjamin Larsen, pianist Hyungjin Choi, flutist Roberta Michel, violists Jonah Sirota and Nadia Sirota, and percussionist Katherine Fortunato. And yes, the two violists are Robert Sirota’s progeny, prodigious players with a number of ensembles and in solo contexts. 

 

Each composer has contributed two pieces to the program. Sirota’s A Sinner’s Diary (2005) is for flute, two violas, cello, percussion, and piano, and Broken Places (2016) is for flute and cello. Receiving its premiere is Clement’s Mermaid Songs (2024) for soprano and string quartet. The live premiere of her vocal duet Table Manners (2020), directed by Mary Birnbaum, includes forty pounds of silverware in its staging. Who’s doing the dishes? You’ll only find out if you attend the concert!

 

 

 

CD Review, File Under?, Improv, jazz

Miles Okazaki – Miniature America

photos dimicology.net

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.

 

 

 

Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Louis Karchin A Retrospective at Merkin Hall (concert review)

Louis Karchin: A Retrospective

Merkin Concert Hall

September 22, 2024

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.

-Christian Carey 

 

CDs, Contemporary Classical, Guitar, jazz

Wolfgang Muthspiel with Etudes/Quietudes – Solo Live Recording at ORF Radiokulturhaus Vienna Celebrates Craftsmanship and Creativity

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

Contemporary Classical

VALIS by Tod Machover Opera Review

VALIS by Tod Machover

Opera Review

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
Watch the Valis Trailer
Click the link to learn more about  Opera of the Future
Contemporary Classical

Untuxed, and Shostakovich, return to Seattle Symphony

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.

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Brett Dean – Rooms of Elsinore (CD Review)

Brett Dean

Rooms of Elsinore

BIS CD

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.

 

-Christian Carey

 

CD Review, File Under?, Pop

Cal in Red – Low Low (CD Review)

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Cal in Red – Low Low (B3SCI Records)

 

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.

 

-Christian Carey

 

Cal in Red – Frontside