Tag: Contemporary Classical

CD Review, Contemporary Classical

Music for Violas, Bass Clarinets & Flutes

Released on Thanos Chrysakis’s Aural Terrains label, Music for Violas, Bass Clarinets & Flutes unfolds as a considered gathering of voices. The instrumentation itself suggests a downward gravity, an attraction to breath, wood, and string as sites of glorious friction. Across the program, Jason Alder, Tim Hodgkinson, Chris Cundy, Yoni Silver, and Lori Freedman inhabit the lower reeds with an intimacy that borders on corporeal. Vincent Royer and Jill Valentine draw violas into their extremes in either direction, while Carla Rees and Karin de Fleyt allow flutes to hover, flicker, and occasionally wound the air.

The album opens with Gérard Grisey’s Nout (1983) for solo contrabass clarinet, a work that seems to arrive already half submerged. Its quiet beauty is multiphonically arrayed, each tone carrying the weight of an interior life too dense to be articulated outright. There is a self-examining melancholy at work, like a nautilus shell cracked open to expose its chambers, once inhabited but now resonant only with memory. The sound moves forward hesitantly, aware of its own fragility, until it is pierced by something harsher and more elemental. A foghorn-like call slices through the darkness, a fleshly blade that refuses narrative consolation. In its wake, biography itself seems to dissolve. Footprints are erased by high tide, and what remains is the fact of sound as survival in a hostile expanse.

From this eroded shoreline, Niels Christian Rasmussen’s Gestalten (2018) for bass clarinet and tape introduces a different kind of tension, one between the human trace and an environment that feels uncannily clean. Bell-like sonorities bloom within the electronic layer, accompanied by exhalations and points of light that seem to puncture shadow rather than dispel it. Against this backdrop, the bass clarinet enters as an imperfect presence, its tone roughened by time, carrying residue wherever it goes. There is a sense that the instrument stains the surrounding purity simply by existing within it. The music dwells in this unease, allowing purity and profanity to entangle until neither can be isolated. What emerges is not conflict but recognition, an acknowledgment that human sound is always marked, always implicated, and therefore alive.

Thanos Chrysakis’s Octet (2018) expands the field outward, bringing together two violas, three bass clarinets, baritone saxophone, and two alto flutes in a work that feels ritualistic without ever becoming ceremonial. The relationships therein are tactile and deliberate, offered up as if to time itself rather than to any listening subject. Overtones converge and separate, brushing against the perceptual edge, creating the sensation of watching a film while remaining acutely aware of what lies beyond the frame. With the composer positioned behind the camera, we are left to infer motive and movement, to speculate about cause and consequence. Yet the music offers space rather than instruction. In the gaps between gestures, the listener is free to wander, gather fragments, and rearrange them into provisional meanings. The result is quietly linguistic, a vocabulary shaped by force and friction rather than syntax.

Salvatore Sciarrino’s Hermes (1984) for solo flute returns the focus inward, tracing a line between tenderness and restless wakefulness. The music moves with the unsteady logic of insomnia, never entirely abandoning itself to calm. Extended techniques shimmer at the edge of audibility, suggesting something otherworldly, an aura that hovers just out of reach. It is less an effect than a presence, something felt before it is understood. Karin de Fleyt’s performance captures this fragility with remarkable poise, allowing the flute to become both messenger and message, its divinity inseparable from the physical act of producing sound.

That sense of exposure deepens with Aura, a bass clarinet improvisation by Yoni Silver based on Iancu Dumitrescu’s work of the same name. Here, the terrain grows rougher, more unstable, as if structure itself were beginning to fail. Notes split apart under pressure, their internal components laid bare. The reed salivates, the sound fractures, and what might once have been wonder turns inward, confronting its own limits. There is a foreboding quality to this performance, an intuition of collapse, yet it is rendered with such honesty that it becomes strangely affirming. The beauty here is not decorative but visceral, emerging from a willingness to remain exposed.

Lori Freedman’s To the Bridge (2014) stands as the emotional and conceptual center of the album. Featuring the composer on bass clarinet, clarinet, and voice, the work introduces the human presence as a culmination. Her vocalizations recall the fearless inventiveness of Cathy Berberian, even while being wholly her own. The bass clarinet playing is extraordinary, coaxing from the instrument a saxophonic sheen that bristles with a charged, almost dangerous pleasure. Across these miniatures, Freedman traverses extremes of temperament, from boisterous assertion to quiet self-examination, never losing sight of the work’s fundamental drive. At its core, this is music about endurance, about finding ways to persist when language alone is insufficient.

Tim Hodgkinson’s Parautika (2019) follows with a kind of gentle recalibration. Scored for two violas and three bass clarinets, it might suggest density or weight, yet the prevailing impression is one of translucence. The gestures are brief, direct, and unencumbered by excess, allowing the music to communicate with immediacy. Even as the piece closes on a more declarative note, it feels earned rather than imposed.

The program concludes with Chrysakis’s Selva Oscura (2017/18) for viola and bass clarinet, a work that distills the entire preceding journey. Its language is pared down to essentials, each sound placed with intention, each silence given weight. It is a sustained meditation, etched onto the surface of an unfamiliar world. In its economy, it invites reflection rather than resolution. We are not transported somewhere else so much as returned, altered, to the selves we were at the outset.

Taken as a whole, this collection is marked by a rare integrity. Despite its reliance on extended techniques and abstract forms, it never relinquishes its commitment to storytelling, even when the contours of that story remain elusive. The music does not explain itself, nor does it demand comprehension. Instead, it lets listening serve as a form of dwelling. Thus, we are free to encounter ourselves without judgment, to leave changed in ways that may only become clear when time grants us the distance to recognize what has taken root.

by Tyran Grillo
Concerts, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, New York

Pierre-Laurent Aimard at the 92nd Street Y

Composer George Benjamin.

Pierre-Laurent Aimard in Recital

92nd Street Y

November 19, 2025

Published in Sequenza 21

 

NEW YORK – Pianist Pierre-Laurant Aimard has had a long and fruitful collaboration with the composer George Benjamin. Aimard’s recital program this past Wednesday at the 92nd Street Y was conceived and built around two of Benjamin’s pieces, Shadowlines, a group of six canons for solo piano, and Divisions, a new four-hand piece on which the composer joined him for this New York premiere. 

 

The other programmed works were meant to complement the Benjamin pieces and proved to be strong foils for them. Nikolai Obukhov (1892-1954), a Russian who, during the Bolshevik Revolution, resettled in Paris, is an esoteric and intriguing figure. He created an alternate version of music notation, developed decidedly different methodologies for total chromaticism, and engaged in a kind of mystical masochism: he used his own blood to correct compositions, mirroring artistic travails to the sufferings of Christ. Eccentricities aside, Obukhov’s Révélation (1915), performed with great intensity by Aimard, is highly engaging, a tantalizing glimpse of an underserved oeuvre.

 

Aimard is regarded as one of the most eloquent interpreters of the music of Pierre Boulez (1925-2016). Indeed, he was heard just last month performing selections from Douze Notations (1945) with the New York Philharmonic. Here he played the composer’s Piano Sonata No. 1 (1946), another prodigious piece from the nascency of the postwar avant-garde. Unlike the second sonata, in which Boulez suggested he “blew up the form,” this piece keeps a toehold in the tradition of the genre, all the while testing its limits with post-tonal formations and elliptical phrasing. It is, like all the other works on the program, considerably demanding. 

Aimard and Benjamin.

Like Boulez, Benjamin studied with Olivier Messiaen, and the two were also connected by collaborations in performance. Shadowlines may not entirely blow up classical tradition – it is, after all, composed of a half dozen canons – but Benjamin shares with Boulez an affinity for post-tonal writing and herculean virtuosity. And like the Notations, each section takes on an entirely different character, with mercurial shifts of register, gesture, and density. 

 

The second half featured Le Tombeau de Couperin (1919) by Maurice Ravel (1875-1937). The Couperin in question, in a line of distinguished composers, is François (1668-1733), whose elegant suites formed a template for Ravel’s own tombeau, this one commemorating friends of the composer who had been killed in World War I. If listeners might reasonably expect the piece to have a mournful cast, they are likely to be surprised by the ebullience of much of it. Most of the movements of Le Tombeau de Couperin have been orchestrated, and in the piano version one can hear the vivid colorations that may have helped to inspire their being recast for larger forces. 

 

Divisions was finished just this year, and when crafting the work Benjamin clearly had his collaboration onstage with Aimard in mind. Four-hands music has a choreographic element to it: how do two pairs of paws operate without overcrowding among 88 keys? Is there enough “elbow room?” Benjamin writes parts that take risks in this regard, with the primo (right side) player occasionally reaching over an active secondo (left side) player to add a bass note to the proceedings. Similarly, the secondo invades primo territory for alto register countermelodies and widely dispersed harmonies. In Divisions, one can hear affinities to all of the other pieces on the program – kudos for curating – with use of dissonance alongside counterpoint, dance-like rhythms alongside angular gestures – in a mélange of materials. Benjamin and Aimard have been touring this program to a number of cities. One hopes this serves double duty as rehearsals for a forthcoming recording.

 

-Christian Carey

 

by Christian Carey
Classical Music, Commissions, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, jazz, Lincoln Center, New York, Orchestras, Premieres

NY Philharmonic Revels in a Rainbow of Colors

Violinist Nicola Benedetti performed Wynton Marsalis’s Violin Concerto with the New York Philharmonic on November 13-16, 2025 (credit Jake Turney)

An expansive palette of colors was on display at the New York Philharmonic concert at David Geffen Hall on Friday. David Robertson shone a light on the performers and the scores, exposing nuances of hues, pastels, brights and brilliance.

The entire program – Igor Stravinsky’s Petrushka, the Violin Concerto by Wyton Marsalis and the world premiere of a new work by Caroline Mallonee – focused on color and mood. I had high hopes in particular for this performance of Petrushka, to erase my memory of a flaccid reading of the work a couple of years ago. The Philharmonic redeemed themselves, as Robertson elicited a vivid performance that was cinematic in its expression. The work exploits every section of the orchestra, so much so that it is practically a concerto for orchestra.

Lakeside Game by Mallonee also evoked rich visual images. The work was co-commissioned by the Philharmonic, as part of its impressively large commissioning effort Project 19. Mallonee’s inspiration was her childhood memories of walks along Lake Michigan, with the sound of skipping stones and imagery of shimmering sun-dappled water. The music was a montage of scenes on a carefree summer day, and more than once was reminiscent of Samuel Barber’s bucolic composition Knoxville: Summer of 1915.

The great musical polymath Wynton Marsalis wrote Concerto in D for Violin and Orchestra in 2015 for Nicola Benedetti (the two wed this year). It’s a tour de force for both soloist and orchestra, a display of virtuosity for the entire 45 minutes of the four movement work. Benedetti was completely at home with the artistry, varied techniques and technical demands that the score called for. A mix of jazz and classical genres, the music boasted a shifting kaleidoscope of styles. From the first moment of the piece to the last, everyone on stage looked like they were having a ball.

by Gail Wein
Choral Music, Classical Music, Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Criticism

Estonians Play Their Pärt

Estonian Festival Orchestra, Credit Fadi Kheir
Carnegie Hall’s Arvo Pärt festival began with the Estonian Festival Orchestra, violin soloists Midori and Hans Christian Aavik and the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir. (Photo credit Fadi Kheir)

In listening to a three-hour concert of music by Arvo Pärt, the brilliance of the Estonian composer’s craft becomes clear. His use of percussion is a masterclass in orchestration, announcing the beginning of a piece with a chime, punctuating string passages with a ding or a gong, and clamorous timpani rolls in rare fortissimo moments.

This all-Pärt concert on October 23 was the first program in a season-long celebration of the 90-year old composer at Carnegie Hall. Pärt holds the Composer’s Chair at Carnegie this season (that’s the Richard and Barbara Debs Composer’s Chair, to you). The occasion was also the American debut of the Estonian Festival Orchestra, founded in 2011 by Paavo Järvi, who conducted this performance.

Much of Pärt’s music is deceptively simple: descending scales, modest melodies repeated over and over, block chords and spare orchestration. He is a master of form as well, building a clear emotional arc in every composition, playing on extreme dynamic markings. This was deftly demonstrated by the Estonians, with pianissimo passages that were barely perceptible and subtle shades of softness, holding thunderous fortes for special moments. Another effective technique is his unabashed use of silence – in such a patient way that there is no compulsion to jump in and fill the void.

Only one work on this program reminded me why I have avoided listening to Pärt’s music for many years. The second movement of Tabula Rasa, one of the longest works on the program, was an exercise in restraint. Slow and repetitious without forward motion, it ultimately was tedious and boring. The way this music stopped time seemed to resonate with many in the audience, just not me. Besides that, the performance, which featured two violin soloists – veteran Midori and young upstart Hans Christian Aavik – was a remarkable and compelling work.

Some of the other works performed this evening surprised me with their varied sounds and compelling forward motion, both melodically and harmonically. This was not how I thought of Pärt’s compositional style.

The last piece on the program, Credo, was by far the most interesting and varied. Interspersing JS Bach’s Prelude No. 1 on solo piano (played by Nico Muhly) between Pärt-ian passages, some bellicose, some tender, was exciting.

The Estonians also brought along the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir, who performed Adams Lament with the orchestra before being joined by the Trinity Choir for Credo. The combined choirs showed off their special sound in the encore, Pärt’s Estonian Lullaby.

WQXR-FM broadcast the concert on its Carnegie Hall Live series, and it is available for on demand listening at WQXR.org.

Carnegie Hall’s celebration of Arvo Pärt continues throughout the season. Upcoming events, beginning with tonight’s Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir are listed at this link.

by Gail Wein
Chamber Music, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Festivals, Percussion, Women composers

2025 Festival of Contemporary Music at Tanglewood

2025 Festival of Contemporary Music at Tanglewood – July 24 – July 28, 2025

Tanglewood Music Center in the cool green Berkshires of Massachusetts (credit Aram Boghosian)

Every summer since 1964, the Tanglewood Music Center presents its Festival of Contemporary Music. According to Tanglewood’s materials:

The Festival of Contemporary Music (FCM) is one of the world’s premier showcases for works from the current musical landscape and landmark pieces from the new music vanguard of the 20th century. FCM affords Tanglewood Music Center Fellows the opportunity to explore unfamiliar repertoire and experience the value of direct collaboration with living composers.

Over the four FCM concerts (of the total of six) I heard carefully honed performances by the Tanglewood Fellows, Fromme players and the Mexican percussion quartet Tambuco.

Gabriela Ortiz is the director of FCM this year, the latest in the many high notes that the Mexican composer is enjoying. In the past season, she was composer in residence at Carnegie Hall, Curtis Institute, and Orquesta Sinfónica de Castilla y León; her commissioned works were premiered at New York and Los Angeles Philharmonics, and she won three Grammy awards.

Ortiz’s FCM programming traced the lineage of Mexican composers from Chavez to Lavista to Ortiz herself and to her student Diana Syrse, showed off the versatile talents of the Mexico-based percussion ensemble Tambuco and the incredible capacity of the Tanglewood Fellows to learn and perfect carefully honed performances of a mountain of new music.

Two beefs: Each program ran at least 25% longer than its stated duration. Each was densely programmed, and the ultralong set changes between each piece (often involving dozens of percussion instruments) were not accounted for in the production schedule. Nor were the often-lengthy introductions by Ortiz.

And, rather than presenting a spectrum of works by a range of composers, Ortiz programmed a great deal of her own music with a smattering of other works to provide context. This was in contrast to previous years in which a broader survey of music was presented.

Ortiz’s music is high-quality and thoughtful, employing interesting sounds and techniques, rhythms and sonorities, often telling a story in vivid colors and gestures. But pretty much every piece wore out its welcome, going on long after I felt it should have ended, without bringing in new ideas or furthering the experience of the piece.

A member of Tambuco playing the marimbula at Tanglewood’s Festival of Contemporary Music 2025 (credit Gail Wein)

Which brought to mind a question that nags me from time to time – why don’t composers have editors? Authors of books have them. Journalists have them. But no one seems to be telling a composer, “Draw a double bar already, would ya?” Come to think of it, it may be the test of time that serves this purpose. There’s a lot of music written over the past 500 years that is justly neglected. Conversely, there’s good reason that many war horses in the canon have endured. It’s collective taste making, standing the test of time.

The program on July 25, “Mexico, Cuba, the U.S., and One Hundred Years of Percussion” featured, predictably, a barrage of percussion, and in every piece at least one unusual instrument was on stage. In Ortiz’s Rio de las Mariposas for two harps and steel drum, the disparate instruments blended surprisingly well. The glass harmonica gave Mario Lavista’s Musicas de Cristal a soundscape all its own. The soft slow music was enhanced by the ambient rustle of trees outside Ozawa Hall. Amadeo Roldán’s Rítmica V and Rítmica VI included a cascade of diverse instruments, the most unusual of which was a marimbula, a cross between a giant mbira (African thumb piano) and a cajón (a wooden box which the percussionist slaps with their hand). Hearing the mechanical sirens in Edgard Varese’s landmark Ionisation, was the peak of a memorable performance of that iconic 20th century work.

On July 26, the program “Music of Migration and Exile” included music by Ortiz and the Mexican-American composer Ricardo Zohn-Muldoon. This program, as all the others that I heard at the FCM, were marked by truly spectacular performances by the fellows. All around they play like much more seasoned pros, and with an enthusiasm and bravado that more experienced hands sometimes lack.

Zohn-Muldoon’s Suite from Comala is an extract of a larger work based on Pedro Páramo, a classic Mexican novella by Juan Rulfo. Zohn-Muldoon added guitar to this score for Pierrot ensemble plus percussion and guitar. The combination worked especially well in this alluring work, as the guitar sometimes aligned with the strings, and at other times with the percussion.

In addition to the programs I detailed above, the festival highlighted the talents of the American composers Ellen Reid and Gabriela Smith. It was great to hear some concert music from Mexico that doesn’t often get to U.S. stages. And there’s nothing like getting to revel in the sounds of contemporary concert music for four days, especially in the picturesque environs of the Tanglewood Music Center.

by Gail Wein
CD Review, Chamber Music, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, Recording review, Recordings, Twentieth Century Composer

Tobias Picker, NOVA (Recording review)

Tobias Picker

NOVA

Various Artists

Bright Shiny Things

 

Composer Tobias Picker won a Grammy for his 2020 operatic version of The Fantastic Mister Fox, and many pianists have first encountered him through the diatonic piece The Old and Lost Rivers. Picker has another side to his musical persona that is in no small measure reflective of his time as a student of Milton Babbitt, Elliott Carter, and Charles Wuorinen. The Bright Shiny Things recording NOVA includes chamber music that celebrates these high modernist roots, as well as forays into postmodernism. 

 

The title work is the latter, a riff on both the appropriate accompaniment, at least in Manhattan, for a bagel and cream cheese, as well as a send-up of one of Franz Schubert’s most enduring chamber pieces, the Trout Quintet. The result is lively, with tongue in cheek humor giving way to expert writing for the instruments, the composer distinguishing himself as a performer, undertaking the piano part. 

 

The recording sessions for NOVA were completed at various times, and some of the performers are no longer living. The late Lynne Harrell’s performance in Suite for Cello and Piano is memorable. He plays with yearning legato in“Serenade,” its first movement, and puckish pizzicato in “Daylight,” its second. Ann-Marie McDermott, who is still with us, also distinguishes herself, with expressive and assured playing throughout. The third movement, “Lament,” is more dramatic than doleful, and Harrell performs with incendiary phrasing. The suite’s final movement, titled “Alone,” is still a duo, but it is lonesome and solitary in its demeanor. Another departed musician, Peter Serkin, plays Three Pieces for Piano with sensitivity and virtuosity in equal measure, elucidating the complex phrasing of “Svelto,” its first movement, emphasising the dynamic and rhythmic nuances in the second, “Liberamente,” and, performing the assertive gestures of the “Feroce” third movement con brio. 

 

Happily most of the performers are still around to enjoy the fruits of their labors. Pianist Ursula Oppens makes multiple appearances, with Charles Neidich in “Nocturne,” a brief, gentle duet, and solo in the more extensive “Pianorama.” Violinist Young Uck Kim and Emmanuel Ax collaborate well on Invisible Lilacs, a three movement piece with an opener marked “Fast,” which it certainly is here, a pensive “Elegy,”, and a concluding “Moto Perpetuo” movement that is impressively played. 

 

The disc’s final piece, Blue Hula. features Speculum Musicae, a chamber ensemble that boasted some of the best performers of modern classical music. It is a formidable piece that suits them well, with a finely etched gestural profile of corruscating lines. As the piece progresses, its rhythmic drive increases, culminating in the breakneck pace of the third movement, marked “very fast.” 

 

NOVA presents another side of Picker’s music, one that embraces complexity but sacrifices none of the directness of expression that characterizes his more recent music. 

 

-Christian Carey

 

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Chamber Music, Contemporary Classical

Mara Gibson – Unseen World

Unseen World is a new release by composer Mara Gibson on the Mark Masters record label. The album consists of five works composed between 2020 and 2024 that are inspired by vivid visual art that is both expressive and complex. Various instrumental ensembles are employed including a piano and cello duet, a brass quintet, trumpet duet, woodwind duet and a large chamber orchestra. The meticulous writing present in the scores, the outstanding technique of the musicians and remarkable efforts by the soloists make Unseen World an impressive realization of contemporary musical expression.

The first piece on the album is Swansongs (2022). This is a three movement work that features Albina Khaliapova at the piano and Eduard Teregulov on cello. The piece is inspired by Swedish artist Hilma af Klint (1862-1944), and was commissioned by the performers.

“Hilma’s Symmetry (and Chaos)”, the first movement, opens with a deliberate series of strong and dissonant piano chords that rise successively in pitch. This soon changes to a rapid, running line in the piano accompanied by long sustained tones in the cello underneath. A sense of anxiety builds as the lines weave in and around each other. The cello adds to the tension with sharp pizzicato phrases and bright arco passages. About two thirds through, there is a sudden slowdown, with a mournful cello solo accompanied by single notes from deep in the piano. The movement ends with a solitary low note in the lowest piano register. The piece is just three and a half minutes long and the liner notes suggest that this movement is reminiscent of the “…expressionistic paintings of the beginning of the 20th century.” A very apt description.

“Hildegard”, the second movement, opens with a low growl in the cello followed by a quickly running stream of piano notes in the upper registers. Right from the beginning there is a sense of heightened tension. The cello soon joins in with faster gestures and the lines again weave in and around each other, alternating between conflict and cohesion. The low tones from the cello contrast nicely with the higher moving notes in the piano. About midway, the piano and cello are heard in the same middle/low register and this replaces the tension with a feeling of chaos and confusion. The tempo slows from its frenetic pace, and quietly subdued notes are heard from the piano at the finish. The fast tempo, changing dynamics and complex texture of this movement highlight the seasoned technique that the two musicians have brought to this piece.

The final movement, “Lock and Key”, begins in a completely different direction with soft piano notes. A mournful, sustained tone is heard high in the cello, bringing a painful feel to this. The cello continues in its slow, expressive line with the piano grimly accompanying underneath. The two performers of this piece write in the liner notes: “Hypnotizing harmonies of the movement force the listeners and performers to detach from the fast-paced reality and focus on their inner world.” “Lock and Key” is a satisfying contrast to the first two movements and provides a fittingly solemn ending to Swansongs.


Next is Fight|Flight, (2020), written in close collaboration with the Atlantic Brass Quintet, who premiered the piece in 2022. The piece was inspired by both the human responses to danger and the making of honey by bees. A strong buzzing sound is heard at the opening, produced by the brass players using only their mouthpieces. This establishes the unmistakable context of frenetic flight. Warm brassy tones are soon heard, as if we are in the presence of a large swarm of bees. A sharp and loud trumpet call enters, announcing the more militant ‘fight’ motif. Soon all the brass players are exchanging sharp phrases back and forth, as if sparring. The various horn lines soon dissemble into a general melee. The technique and dynamic interplay in this section is impressive and the result sounds like more than just five players. The congenial mouthpiece buzzing returns in the last minute of the piece, as it slowly fades to its finish. Flight Fight is an inventive combination of the diverse sounds that can be conjured from a single brass quintet.

Pranayama (2021), is a woodwind duet performed by Melody Wan, flute and Thomas Kim on clarinet. The inspiration for this piece comes from yoga breathing practice and the painting “Ringing Lung”, by Anne Austin Pearce. Low, slow clarinet tones open the piece suggesting intentional patterns of breathing. The flute joins in and the flowing tones weave their way through various registers and colors. There is a meditative feel to this with just the slightest tinge of sadness. A rapid trill in the flute, then followed by the clarinet, add some energy and optimism along with loud and quick runs up and down a series of scales. The dynamics rise and fall suggesting the movement of air in breathing. As the piece proceeds, the occasional dissonance and pitch bending add intensity to the textures, matching the fluidity of the visual art. The piece ends as quietly as it started. With its many moods and nuances, Pranayama rests squarely on the virtuosity of the performers, and they do not disappoint.

Snowball (2024), was inspired by a Susan B. Anthony quote: “The older I get, the greater power I seem to have to have the world. I am like a snowball – the further I am rolled, the more I gain.” This piece is for two trumpets, performed by Jena and Matthew Vangjel who recorded this piece just a week before the birth of their second child.

Snowball opens with a muted solo trumpet repeating a line of solid, declarative notes. The second trumpet enters, similarly muted and in the same register with a lovely harmonic interleaving of the two parts. The mute on one trumpet is then changed and this provides a striking contrast in timbre. As the piece proceeds, the mutes are alternately changed – or removed – producing an ever-changing series of surfaces and colors. The tempo and rhythms are steady and direct, but with a just enough complexity to engage the ear. Towards the finish, the dynamic levels increase, bringing out the familiar forward boldness inherent in two solo trumpets. Snowball artfully reveals many surprising sonic possibilities, all lurking in the conventional trumpet.

Escher Keys (2021) is the most ambitious work of the album, a full blown bassoon concerto in three movements with a duration of 26 minutes. The soloist is Darrel Hale and the 39 piece chamber orchestra is conducted by Scott Terrell. Lithographs and a woodcut by the artist MC Escher provided Gibson with the visual inspiration for this piece and the result is a rich mixture of intense abstraction and powerful expression. As the liner notes explain: “Each movement juxtaposes traditional and non-traditional instrumental relationships between Hale interjecting his statements and the orchestra responding with atmospheric tessellations…”

“Ascending and Descending”, the first movement, opens with solemn, sustained tones in the strings with a quiet drum beat underneath. The bassoon enters in the same fashion and immediately rises to the top of the texture. Woodwinds and the brass join in with bold notes of dissonance accompanied by tense rhythms in the strings and anxious tones from the bassoon. Rapid runs by the soloist and short repeating phrases in the orchestra add to the tension. About midway, the tempo slows and the sustained tones briefly return with the bassoon leading the way. An ascending run of pitches in the winds and brass add energy, followed by a lonely bassoon solo that brings an isolated and melancholy feel. The bassoon playing is very expressive here and the solo continues with slowly descending notes to quiet conclusion. A final deep tone is heard in the string bass at the finish.

Movement two is “Three Worlds” and this begins with solitary and tentative growls from the bassoon, slow and sustained at first, but escalating into bouncy and rapid rhythms. Now the bassoon is heard in a higher register, accompanied by the strings and an oboe trading short, snappy phrases. More woodwinds join in and the various lines alternately separate, then join in tutti chords. There is a wonderful mix of cascading and descending pitches always on the move, playfully chasing and swirling around each other. Towards the finish, a solemn bassoon solo produces a more introspective feeling and the piece ends quietly on a low tone. “Three Worlds” exhibits excellent musicianship and coordination between the soloist, especially given the many complex responses summoned from the orchestra.

The concluding movement for Escher Keys is “Day and Night” and “Waterfall”. There is a subtle, rural feel to this, as the liner notes explain: “Beginning in the sky of the first image, the listener moves back and forth, side to side.” The movement opens with high, sustained flute tones that establish an air of mystery. The solo bassoon enters with a moving line – at first with a curious feel, then with bolder declamatory passages. The rapid notes could suggest the activity of birds in a field. Long, flowing orchestral passages are soon heard underneath, suggesting a pastoral river scene. This becomes progressively more complex as the various orchestral sections follow with independent lines that weave in and around the soloist.

After a brief silence there are low, growling tones by the solo bassoon that suggest a bit of sadness and frustration. Warm string tones enter as the bassoon and a solo violin exchange phrases, building tension. A breathy sound is heard from the bassoon, followed by a more conventional, solitary notes. Concerto for Orchestra springs to mind; “Day and Night” delivers a level of atmospheric mystery similar to the Bartok classic.

Strings enter with ascending figures comprised of blurred pitches. Loud percussion and the bassoon are heard in the foreground – more anxious now. The concerto concludes with a long sustained tone in the bassoon and a high, questioning violin note. Escher Keys is abstract music inspired by abstract art. The vivid expression heard in the ear matches the intensity of the optical experience of the eye. The fidelity of the music to the visual is result of Mara Gibson’s masterful score, the precise playing in the orchestra and the virtuosity of soloist Darrel Hale.

Unseen World is available as a digital download or physical CD from Mark Custom.

by Paul Muller
Canada, Chamber Music, Classical Music, Composers, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, New York

Preview: Pianists Adam Sherkin and Anthony de Mare: “Composers in Play XV”

Pianists Adam Sherkin and Anthony de Mare (courtesy of the artists)

The Canadian pianist/composer Adam Sherkin shares music from his home country on an extensive program at Merkin Hall in New York on March 15, 2025. “Composers in Play XV” is presented by Piano Lunaire, an organization launched by Sherkin and his colleagues in 2018. On this occasion he joins forces with the American pianist Anthony de Mare.

Together the two perform music by (mostly) living Canadian composers for one and two pianos.

Each of the performers has connections with some of the creators. In Sherkin’s case it is himself as the composer of Ink from the Shield for two pianos, which has its world premiere performance this program. De Mare has a 30+ year friendship with Rodney Sharman, and was one of the people who encouraged the composer to write a series of “Opera Transcriptions,” three of which are on this program.

The composers represent a geographical cross section of Canada: Vivian Fung hails from Edmonton; Ann Southam (the sole non-living composer on this program) was from Winnipeg; Kelly Marie-Murphy from Calgary, and Linda Catlin Smith and Sherkin from Toronto.

by Gail Wein
Classical Music, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Festivals, New York, Opera, Vocals

Compelling and Visceral: “In a Grove” and Arooj Aftab at Prototype

In a Grove at Prototype Festival 2025 (credit Maria Baranova)

PROTOTYPE – OPERA | THEATRE | NOW defines itself as a “festival of visionary opera-theatre and music-theatre works”. Its presentation of In a Grove (January 16 – 19, 2025) was as close as Prototype comes to conventional opera in the context of eschewing tradition. It was also one of the most compelling productions I’ve seen in a long time. The intimate setting at La MaMa’s Ellen Stewart Theater augmented the visceral impact.

The story unfolded in four sections, each expressing a different character’s point of view of a murder in the woods. If that description sounds like the Kurosawa film Rashomon, it’s because that film was based on the same book: In a Grove, a century-old short story by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa.

The four singers: John Brancy, Chuanyuan Liu, Paul Appleby, and Mikaela Bennett, all excellent vocalists and actors, played multiple roles. Surtitles were projected above the stage, but for the most part they were not necessary to decipher Stephanie Fleishman’s effective libretto.

Christopher Cerrone’s melodic material was memorable without being trite. As I left the theatre after the performance, the haunting lament of the last scene continued to ring in my ears. Director Mary Birnbaum’s concept was exceptionally powerful in its simplicity, with no props and no set, save for a large pane of glass that glided in to bisect the stage at certain points. The glass panel also served as a mirror in some scenes.

Cerrone’s vocal score was accompanied by ten instrumentalists of the Metropolis Ensemble, led by Luke Poeppel (standing in for music director Raquel Acevedo Klein on the day I attended). The orchestration included some appropriately eerie effects, such as drawing a violin bow across the edge of a xylophone.

I was very much captivated by this powerful drama and its excellent performance.

The Pakistani-American singer and composer Arooj Aftab’s performance couldn’t be classified as an opera at all, though one can think of her concept album Night Reigns as a dramatic song cycle in the guise of pop culture. She appeared with her band for a one-hour set at HERE’s Dorothy B. Williams Theatre January 15 – 17.

Aftab’s style bridges world music and jazz with an ethereal aesthetic. Her presentation was casual and unusual – she distributed shots of whiskey to the audience in mid-show. It was also transporting; an atmosphere and music that took me out of the real world, and her clear lilting voice had an emotional impact. Never mind that most of the words were in Urdu. The meaning came across easily.

In this intimate space, seeing Arooj and her band – harpist Maeve Gilchrist, bass player Zwelakhe-Duma Bell Le Pere and Engin Kaan Gunaydin on percussion – was a visceral, and, enhanced by whisps of smoke created by dry ice, often ethereal experience.

by Gail Wein