Missa Wohlauff gut Gsell von hinnen and other works
Cinquecento
Hyperion Records
While not as famous today as Josquin, Heinrich Isaac (1450-1517) was a contemporary and rival much esteemed during his lifetime. The main work programmed on this recording, Missa Wohlauff gut Gsell von hinnen, makes an explicit connection between the two composers. Comment peult avoir joye?, a monophonic chanson also set polyphonically by Josquin (included on the CD for comparison’s sake), was the subject of a paraphrase mass set early in his career by Isaac. Later, when Isaac was in the service of the Habsburg Emperor Maximilian I, the composer discovered a contrafactum text of the song in German, Wohlauff gut Gsell von hinnen. With this in mind, Isaac decided to revisit his earlier mass and greatly expand and elaborate it. The result was one of the most extensive and imposing works of his career.
A six-voice setting, subgroups thereof appear frequently, and the same reduced scorings seldom recur adjacently, creating a wide variety of textures. The male vocal sextet Cinquecento sings with impressive resonance, rendering the counterpoint with clarity, phrasing with sensitivity, and tutti passages with sonority. They adopt flowing tempos that befit the overlapping lines, particularly those in canon. Missa Wohlauff is a tour-de-force of a variety of canons: intervallic, proportional, 4-ex-2, and 3-ex-1 (two of them used in the Agnus Dei to end triumphantly).
The recording also contains a half-dozen motets: some of Isaac’s finest. O decus ecclesiae has a tenor built out of the white note, or “natural” hexachord, that subtracts and replaces notes throughout the piece, creating an intricate structure out of initially simple means. The motet is formidably scaled, in excess of twelve minutes in duration, with melismatic upper parts, thickly scored tutti, and a subterranean bass line. The second half moves in a sprightly three against the steady tenor. Recordare, Jesu Christe has a canon in the middle voices and overlapping rhythms in the others that prevent the procedure from being obvious; it closes with a hushed cadence of considerable beauty. Judea et Jerusalem may be by Obrecht, another member of the Josquin generation who deserves more attention today, instead of Isaac. A responsory from the Christmas Vigil built up from the chant in the bass, it consists of imitative counterpoint in long phrases adorned with sumptuous verticals.
Cinquecento’s recording makes an eloquent case for Isaac as a composer of the first rank. Recommended.
Territorial Songs, a new CD release from the Our Recordings label features 72 minutes of distinctive recorder music by Sunleif Rasmussen. A native of the remote Faroe Islands, Rasmussen is nevertheless widely known for his compositions. He received critical acclaim in 2002 when his Symphony No. 1, Oceanic Days won The Nordic Council Music Prize. A particular passion of Rasmussen over the years has been the composition of recorder music and this CD is the product of his creative attempts to bring the recorder into a contemporary context. Michala Petri, a prominent recorder player, performs on all the pieces and whose virtuosity is clearly key to this project. The eleven tracks on the CD span a wide range of musical forms – from recorder solo pieces to accompaniment by small ensembles – all the way up to a full orchestral treatment. Rasmussen has made the recorder the centerpiece for all the works on this album and he has succeeded brilliantly in bringing new relevance to this seemingly humble instrument.
Flow (2012), for recorder and string trio, is the first piece on the album and consists of three movements. Inspired by Mozart’s Flute Quartet in D Major, K. 285, Flow as heard on this album is a world premiere recording. The “Allegro” opens with a nicely active rhythm in the strings while the recorder rides above the accompaniment with an agile phrasing that features an impressive flexibility. The harmonies offer a hint of tension so that the result is pleasant and unsettling at the same time. The part writing is complex, but beautifully played and the recorder darts in and out of the broken rhythms that make up the overall texture. “Tranquillo”, the second movement, begins with soft cello notes that produce an easy and relaxed feel, propelled by an ambling pizzicato line in the violin and viola. The recorder entrance features an almost clarinet-like timbre and includes a series scales and runs that contrast well with the strings. At about 4 minutes into this movement, low buzzing cello sounds build a strong foundation while at the same time introducing an element of tension as the pizzicato line becomes more frenetic. Soon, the recorder sounds fuzzy as well, and the piece slowly loses it’s opening tranquility. Towards the finish, high, thin and sustained tones in the violins add a feeling of sharpness. The Esbjerg Ensemble accompanies with skill and sophistication. The part writing is brilliant here, with each instrument making a distinctive contribution to the whole.
“Rondeau”, the third movement, features busy string phrases with the recorder melody reaching to the heights above. There is a sort of a stop-and-go feel to this; the passages are independent in the various parts and detached from the recorder line. As usual, the ensemble is tight and it seems as if there are more instruments playing than scored. The orchestration is artfully done, always leaving enough acoustic space for the clean sounds of the recorder solo. Impatient and active, the recorder is allowed cut through the texture and at times, dominate. All of this results in an appropriately upbeat ending to Flow.
The second work on the CD is Jeg (2011), and this features the bass recorder accompanied by a cappella choir, the Danish National Vocal Ensemble led by Stephen Layton. Based on Danish modernist poet Inger Christensen’s text, the piece opens with a hauntingly deep recorder solo that establishes an exotic feel. As the choir enters, several separate lines of voices are often heard as the recorder obbligatto weaves in and around the vocals. Once again the orchestration is extremely precise, allowing a complex interplay to unfold between the voices and the newly-entered soprano recorder. The vocals are faintly reminiscent of Benjamin Britten and carry the drama solidly forward, always engaging the listener. A solemn recorder solo completes this piece.
Sorrow and Joy (2017), another world premiere recording, is the third piece on this CD and is written as a fantasy for solo recorder. The opening line is clear with a simple, declarative melody inspired by Thomas Kingo’s, hymn Sorrig og Glæde (sorrow and Joy). The tone is somber and reserved but soon variations in the melody lighten the mood, as if the melancholy is lifting. In his excellent liner notes, Joshua Cheek writes of this piece: “Thomas Kingo, (1634 – 1703), was a clergyman and poet whose works are considered the high point of Danish Baroque poetry. For the musical component Rasmussen takes Kingo’s melody and subjects it to 12 figural variations, which become increasingly virtuosic, the final variation also functioning as a cadenza.” The great underlying strength of the hymn tune compliments all of these variations superbly, even as the agile recorder notes dart in and around the stolid cantus firmus. Sorrow and Joy is perfectly centered in its Baroque context, equally pleasing to the ear and brain. The performance by Michala Petri is simply sublime.
Winter Echoes (2014) follows, a work for recorder and 13 solo strings, as performed by the Lapland Chamber Orchestra directed by Clemens Schuldt. This begins in the strings with a low growl accompanied by short, insistent passages in the upper strings. Quiet recorder phrases thread carefully through the string passages which are scored to allow space for the solos. The piece progresses in three sections, creating what amounts to a convincing portrait of the wintry mix of weather common among the islands of the North Sea. The recorders employed progress from bass to sopranino and as the pitches rise, the mood progresses from dark to light. The very high recorder passages towards the finish add a compelling, icy sting. Winter Echoes is more complex than, say, Vivaldi’s “Winter” movement of The Four Seasons, but both share the same needle-sharp edges.
Territorial Songs (2009) is the final piece on the album and is a concerto for recorder and orchestra consisting of five short movements. The solo recorder is accompanied by the Aalborg Symphony Orchestra. According to the liner notes: “The idea for the piece came from the singing of birds. In nature, bird song has two main functions: to defend a territory and to attract a mate. Rasmussen extended this idea of ‘territorial space’ to the orchestra as well letting some sections play independent of the conductor, marking their own territory within the orchestral landscape.”
“Leggiero”, the first movement, opens with tubular bells at the start followed by rapid orchestra phrases. The recorder line is independent of the orchestra and has a distinctly abstract quality that goes its own way. The bells add a touch of the transcendental, as if the forest is a cathedral. The interplay between the orchestra and recorder nicely captures the confident chirping of a bird in the wood. “Misterioso”, the second movement, continues with the tubular bells and repeating mystical phrases in the harp, followed by muted trumpets. The recorder enters with syncopated passages that weave in and out of the accompaniment to great effect. Pizzicato strings bubble beneath the recorder, adding to the mystery. This is extremely well orchestrated, allowing the recorder to dominate the texture without getting lost in the accompaniment. The movement is abstract and complex, yet beautifully cohesive.
The final movement, “Leggiero”, opens with insistent drum beats and powerful lower string phrasing. The other sections of the orchestra join in to create a swirling palette of sound. The recorder enters with a dizzying series of scales ending with a sly solo stretch. The orchestra and recorder take turns dominating, but never interfere. A fabulously frenetic finish completes the concerto. With Rasmussen’s brilliant writing, the recorder stands a bit taller now in the woodwind family. Territorial Songs is a masterful pairing of the full orchestra with the slender sound of the recorder such that the excellent orchestration and solo playing contribute equally to its exuberant success.
Territorial Songs is available from Amazon Music and is also distributed by Naxos.
Composed between 1985 and 2001, the 18 Etudes by György Ligeti are an eloquent summary of the techniques he had developed throughout his career. They rival the best collections of etudes for piano while adding substantially to the variety of technical means to be explored, particularly in the realms of polyrhythm and sonority.
There are a number of recordings of the Etudes and it is difficult to choose a favorite: different ones excel at various aspects of these multifaceted works. Danny Driver’s is a strong contender. Amply powerful where required, Driver’s playing also brings out a variety of dynamic shadings, with passages of exceptional delicacy (notably absent in some other interpretations). For instance, Driver’s rendition of “White on White,” in which both hands play white note collections, is diaphanous in the beginning and coda and incisive in the moto perpetuo middle. He demonstrates mastery over the technical challenges and has a keen sense for the reference points found in each Etude.
Several interests that Ligeti developed late in his career impacted the language of the Etudes: the minimalism of Steve Reich, African music, and an abiding love of rhythmic canons that expanded to encompass the work of Conlon Nancarrow. One can also see in the list of dedicatees – Pierre Boulez (to whom the first three Etudes are dedicated), Mauricio Kagel, György Kurtág, and Pierre-Laurent Aimard among them – the music and performance qualities of others respected by Ligeti that in turn filter through the Etudes.
There are three books of Etudes, the first containing six, the second eight, and the last book four. Many have self-imposed restrictions that create intriguing, at times playful results. For instance, the first Etude Désordre consists of ascending and descending polyrhythms, with the left hand playing only black keys and the right white keys, thus juxtaposing pentatonic and pandiatonic collections. Galamb Borong also has a different scale for each hand, the two whole tone collections meant to stand in for the scales of Balinese gamelan. Automne à Varsovie is a canon in polytempo, with overlapping relationships of 3,4,5,6,7, and 8, and a perpetually descending motive.
Coloana Infinita, the 14th Etude,is the tour-de-force among formidable pieces. The original version was viewed as unplayable by humans, and made into a player piano piece a lá Nancarrow. The revised version is scarcely less daunting, Thick pile ups of chords build a multi-textured ascent. It sounds like at least three hands are required, but Driver manages just fine with two, wielding intensity and virtuosity in impressive fashion. He provides a similarly energetic performance of Vertige, its fortissimo, chromatic music, this time descending, devolves into a soft rumble only at its conclusion.
The final work of Book Three, a brief Canon, is rendered with effusion and a coy, pianissimo coda that is an enigmatic valediction. Canon demonstrates Ligeti’s continued inspiration and considerable imagination late in life. Driver’s recording is a fitting celebration of the composer’s legacy. Recommended.
LOUD Weekend, TIME:SPANS, Tanglewood and Bard are all back on stage this summer with in-person audiences
Fans starved for live music over the past year and half can rejoice and indulge – many summer festivals are back in the game. In this roundup, we’re mainly covering indoor concerts. As charming as it is to experience a performance under the stars, helicopters overhead, unpredictable weather, distracted audiences and competing bands nearby detract from the artistic experience.
Bang on A Can founders David Lang, Michael Gordon and Julia Wolfe (credit Peter Serling)
When it comes to contemporary music programming, LOUD Weekend put on by Bang on a Can at MASS MoCA is the densest. There are more than two dozen sets over two long days (July 30 and 31), performed by a range of the BOAC marathon’s “usual suspects”, along with some very special guests. This “eclectic super-mix of minimal, experimental and electronic music” (according to their press materials) may be some consolation to those who eagerly anticipated the organization’s inaugural Long Play Festival in New York City in spring 2020. That one was postponed indefinitely along with everything else in the world last year.
Kronos Quartet
BOAC co-founder and co-artistic director Michael Gordon said in a written interview, that the Bang on a Can team decided that regardless of the Covid restrictions MASS MoCA instituted, and however limited the audience needed to be, they were going to go ahead with the festival. “We just had to start playing live again, and having a festival meant that musicians were working. It has been so important to Bang on a Can over the pandemic year, as we presented 10 live-stream marathons and commissioned 70 new pieces of music, to keep the spirits of the creative music community alive and kicking,” he said. “One of the pluses was that the Kronos Quartet, which is usually unavailable due to European touring, was able to join us this summer.
“Everyone is psyched to be playing live,” Gordon continued. “After a year everyone – audience, composers and performers – is a little rusty. Now suddenly people are amazed to be in the same room with a cello or a bassoon.”
Bang on a Can All-Stars
The illustrious folks at BOAC are bringing thirsty audiences a true glut of performances: two programs by the Kronos Quartet, three by the Bang on a Can All-Stars, the pianist Lisa Moore playing a world premiere by Fred Rzewski, who passed away in June 2021, a tribute to the dearly departed Louis Andriessen, and a set of world premieres by young composers who participated in this year’s Bang on a Can Summer Festival (a professional development program at MASS MoCA that has been going on for nearly two decades). Giving more detail would become a laundry list; there’s plenty more to be excited about and all the details are online. It’s almost too much, like an enormous buffet after months of starvation, but it won’t take long to get used to this new new normal.
At a somewhat more measured pace, TIME:SPANS in New York City also pulled out all of the stops with a drool-worthy lineup replete with world premieres and works written for and realized by an unusual new instrument. The roster at the 2021 TIME:SPANS festival, which is produced and presented by the Earle Brown Music Foundation Charitable Trust since 2015, is anchored by Talea Ensemble and JACK Quartet.
Soprano Tony Arnold
The two programs featuring JACK – one in which the quartet is joined by the eminent soprano Tony Arnold and the other consisting entirely of world premieres of works written in 2021 – are hard to resist. Throw in two concerts performed by Talea Ensemble, another with Alarm Will Sound, and an Anthony Cheung composer portrait concert featuring the Spektral Quartet joined by the flamboyant flutist Claire Chase and the dazzling violinist Miranda Cuckson, and, well, you get the picture. There’s lots to be excited about in these 11 concerts over a timespan of 13 days.
As a prelude to the live concerts, presentations of works composed for the EMPAC Wave Field Synthesis Array, a 3D sound system with 240 small loudspeakers, kick off the festival August 12-16. New works by Miya Masaoka, Bora Yoon, Nina C. Young, and Pamela Z for the system will presumably provide an experience exponentially more immersive than Surround Sound.
Artistic director Thomas Fichter explained in a written interview that they are continuing to deal with Covid-related uncertainties, such as foreign travel restrictions. Also, he said, “We very carefully created a safety protocol for audiences, performers and staff. Audience capacity in the hall [at DiMenna Center] is reduced to about 50% from what we had in other years because of spaced seating.”
Thomas Adés (Photo: Marco Borggreve)
Tanglewood’s Festival of Contemporary Music, usually a weeklong affair, has been hewn to three programs on July 25 and 26. Thomas Adès directs the Festival, and Kaija Saariaho, Judith Weir, Per Nørgård, Sean Shepherd, and Andrew Norman are among the composers whose music is performed by the spectacularly talented fellows of the Tanglewood Music Center.
Nadia Boulanger
And in mid-August, the annual Bard Music Festival chimes in with its typically out-of-the-box thematic programming, this year taking a 360 look at “Nadia Boulanger and Her World”. Programs juxtapose Boulanger’s music with that of her mentors, contemporaries, students and historical influences. Composers represented range from Monteverdi to Gershwin to Thea Musgrave – a dozen chamber and orchestral concerts jammed into two weekends, August 6-8 and August 12-15. For audiences who can’t be there in person, some of the programs will also be livestreamed on the Fisher Center’s virtual stage at Upstreaming.
These ambitious summer festivals are hopeful harbingers of the fall season.
Shifting quarantine rules, the rise of the delta variant, travel restrictions and venue protocols have made it difficult for presenters to plan much in advance. Hopefully, concert-goes will forgive late announcement and last-minute changes, and give all a wide berth of understanding, compassion, patience, and ticket revenue.
Emil Holmström, Joonas Ahonen, piano and keyboards;
Jani Niinimaki, Jerry Plippomem, percussion
Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra, Hannu Lintu
Ondine
This recording includes three live recordings of compositions from the 1990s by Magnus Lindberg. Hannu Lintu leads the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra in energetic and focused renditions of two of these challenging works, bringing out considerable detail from Lindberg’s vivid orchestrations. A quartet of pianists and percussionists perform the chamber piece, Related Rocks, an interesting corollary to the larger compositions.
By 1990, when Lindberg had completed Marea, he was already an established composer. Particularly noteworthy was 1985’s Kraft, with a large orchestra, multiple soloists, enormous gongs, and influences from German industrial music, notably Einstürzende Neubauten. Marea is for more modest forces, a sinfonietta; however, it sounds larger than the sum of its parts. The titlemeans “tides,” and the piece is a single movement set of variations. There is much in Marea that is muscularly scored, indicating the powerful ebb and flow of the ocean. Indeed, the flowing nature of the music overwhelms its constructivist design to create densely imprinted textures and dramatic climaxes.
The chamber piece Related Rocks (1997). for a quartet of pianists and percussionists with electronics, was written at IRCAM. It has a similar instrumentation to the Bartôk Sonata for two pianos and percussion, and its raucous ending is certainly Bartôkian in design. Most of the piece departs from this script, with a blending of the instrumental cohort rather than the bifurcation of the Bartôk sonata. Lindberg explores gamelan-like harmonics with spectacular shimmer. Rhythmic canons between piano and pitched percussion provide rigorous contrast for the more vertically oriented passages. Lindberg demonstrates both the percussive and sonorous qualities of the instruments, and the software he uses allows one to morph from one sound to the next.
Aura (1994) is dedicated to the memory of Wiltold Lutoslawski, who passed away while Lindberg was composing the piece. At forty minutes in duration, it is the longest piece in his catalogue. Cast in four movements, played attacca, with a scheme of fast-slow-scherzo-finale, Lindberg has said it is neither a symphony nor a concerto for orchestra. Instead it seems to flow organically, with successive movements commenting on their predecessors. The concerto designation is tantalizing because material is often deployed in smaller cohorts of the orchestra and soloists. The first movement’s brass fanfares are followed by ricocheting counterpoint from winds and strings. Each successive climax adds to the complexity of the vertical chords that announce it. Winds, strings, brass, and percussion each take a turn as active ensembles. A general pullback allows for diaphanous strings and whorls of woodwinds to blend together. This is supplanted by edgy ostinatos and rangy clarinet passages. The trading off intensifies, bringing the movement to a fortissimo pileup and moto perpetuo coda that leads into the spectral verticals that begin movement two.
Lindberg is not known for writing slow movements, but the second one of Aura qualifies. Blocks of harmony are connected by trumpet filigrees. Overtone chords and long string lines are underscored by stentorian timpani and succeeded by wind trills. The chorale-like movement of the harmony continues, until heraldic brass announce descending cellos and divisi string harmonies. Oscillating cells and intricate blocks of chords cascade through much of the rest of the movement, with echoing harmonics and busily moving pitched percussion giving decay a boost. Percussion – gongs notable in their appearance – and glinting winds bring the movement to a close. It is followed by a Scherzo, with skittering lines, repeated motives, and wide-ranging cascading verticals. The finale is a boisterous summation, with allusions to the music that has come before, motorized by post-minimal ostinatos, generously scored string melodies, and triumphal brass. Aura is an imposing, impressive piece.
Scott Wollschleger’s music has great emotional range. Dark Days explores an atmospheric and lyrical side to his composing for piano. Wollschleger has collaborated with pianist Karl Larson for some time, and this collection of pieces created over a number of years attests to the felicitous nature of their work together.
The tile piece is both the briefest and most dissonant piece. It was composed on the day of Trump’s inauguration and channels Schoenberg’s atonal phase, but in a subdued manner. Much of the music here emulates impressionism instead of expressionism. One can often hear the influence of Debussy’s Preludes on works such as Tiny Oblivion and Brontal 2, “Holiday”. Music Without Metaphor resembles Satie in its delicate modal segments and slow rhythmic underpinning. Blue Inscription and Brontal 11, “I-80,” on the other hand, represent another throughline in Wollschleger’s work; his affinity for the New York School, particularly the music of Morton Feldman. Wollschleger is quick to point out that his graduate instructor at the Manhattan School of Music, Nils Vigeland, was one of Feldman’s prominent students and interpreters, and another influence on his music.
It is most interesting when Wollschleger combines these two demeanors, as on Brontal 6, where frequent rests and modal figurations coexist with pointillist fragments. The last two selections, Secret Machine 4 and Secret Machine 6, are considerably charming. They mark a return to the modality, whole-tone scales, and short motives of Debussy, with frequent ostinato repetitions. Dark Days is a well considered collection and it benefits from Larson’s assured interpretations.
-Christian Carey
Performance of Dark Days at Roulette on May 6, 2021:
On February 26th, twenty-five years into their recording career, Mogwai hit #1 on the UK charts. The band’s two previous full length releases were in the Top 10 in the UK, but the success of As the Love Continues, their tenth album, is remarkable.
Known for a live act that is one of the loudest in history, Mogwai retains a musicality that often hews close to the shaping of post-rock, with varied textures supplied both by synthesizers and electric guitars replete with pedals. The looping melody of “Dry Fantasy” evinces minimalist sympathies, as does “Here We, Here We, Here We Go Forever,” the latter combining a looping chordal ostinato with drums supplying one of the more danceable grooves in the band’s catalog.
Vocals treated with vocoder appear on a couple tracks, and the album opens with a spoken word excerpt – Benjamin John Power (Blanck Mass) apparently speaking in his sleep – that also serves as the song’s curious title, “To the Bin My Friend, Tonight We Vacate Earth.” What follows seems to emanate from a dreamstate, with heartbeat drums and haloing of harmonics giving way to overlapping melodies for synth-piano and guitar that provide a slow burn prior to one of the band’s patented anthemic choruses. Mogwai often gives their music enigmatic titles. The track “Ritchie Sacramento” was inspired by a record store clerk’s mishearing of Ryuichi Sakamoto. However, the piece, the only one with non-modified vocals, is more somber than this pun would suggest, referencing grief, not just for the COVID year, but for departed musician friends, among them David Berman.
Some emphases have changed, and As the Love Continues shows the band savoring a temperament for exploration. But Mogwai still makes thunderous rock. “Ceiling Granny” is inspired by a scene from TheExorcist, and the terror that Braithwaite experienced upon viewing it is translated into roaring guitars and triple forte drumming.
Listen to an interview with Stuart Braithwaite and some live performances below.
Kronos Quartet excepted, there have been a lot of really bad arrangements of pop music for string quartet. Part of the problem is that the arrangers of these covers attempt to translate a medium that involves amplification, electronics, and a flexible sense of rhythm into straight notation for acoustic ensemble. Attacca Quartet’s Real Life, on the other hand, sees the opportunity for collaboration in electronic music covers.
Their recordings are subjected to production from some of the top electronic musicians in the industry: Tokimonsta, Squarepusher, and Daedelus among them. The songs are by the artists Flying Lotus (“Remind U” is a particular standout), Louis Cole, Anne Müller,and Mid-Air Thief. The title track, by Cole, features propulsive beats that are offset by chordal strings and the song’s melody doubled in octaves. After a fragmentary opening, Mid-air Thief’s “Why” is populated with reverberant crescendos. Pizzicatos, drumset, and quirky harmonies give Squarepusher’s “Xetaka 1” a fascinating, off-kilter feel, like Bartôk in a blender.
At thirty-five minutes, the recording doesn’t overstay its welcome, with several of the selections truncated from their original versions. A welcome exception is “Drifting Circles” by Anne Müller, in which minimal ostinatos adorn the song’s sumptuous chord progression and evolving textures are explored. Cole’s “More Love Less Hate” provides an aphoristic, supple coda to the proceedings.
Tamara Stefanovich (piano), Katherine Bryan (flute), BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, BBC Philharmonic, Ilan Volkov
Two concertos and two substantial orchestral works by Scottish composer Martin Suckling are programmed on This Departing Landscape, his debut portrait CD. The White Road (after Edmund de Waal) is inspired by De Waal’s ceramic artworks. It features flutist Katherine Bryan, a friend of Suckling’s since childhood – they played in youth orchestra together, and she managed to extract a promise of this commission some twenty years ago. Her virtuosic and energetic performance is remarkable. The violin part consists of frequent registral shifts, microtones, and angular melismas, often at high speed. The White Road includes a series of cadenzas punctuated with brash interruptions from the orchestra. The orchestral writing also consists of “virtual flutes” that Suckling makes by selecting particular string harmonics with an uncanny resemblance to the flute’s sound quality.
Release has a terrifying opening, with stentorian tutti followed by portentous silences. Gradually the spaces are filled in with echoes of microtones, then an English horn and viola duet, and a song-like theme in the upper register. Cascades of polyphony replace the tutti to create even more reverberant releases.
Although the piano is a fixed pitch instrument, microtonal harmony plays a significant role in the concerto too. Suckling, like Julian Anderson (a colleague who writes the liner notes for the CD) picks different instruments from the orchestra to supply quarter tones related to deviations from equal temperament in the overtone series. Anderson calls this technique “macrotonality,” and it is an effective way to exploit rich timbres. The rhythmic design is also intricate, with frequent use of polyrhythms.The concerto is cast in five movements, a fifteen movement first movement marked “Vigorously” followed by three intermezzi and a passacaglia as the finale. The first movement has a Carterian division of forces, with the piano interacting with different subsets of the orchestra: cor anglais and viola (the same combination found in Release), then strings, clarinets, oboes and horns (which contains some truly mind-blowing sounds), piccolo and violin, claves, and back to solo viola to finish the movement.
In Intermezzo 1 – Implacable, a vigorous moto perpetuo inhabits the upper register with gradually introduced bass pedal points unfolding a chromatic ground against the dissonant counterpoint above. This leads attacca into the second Intermezzo, marked Luminous in which hushed repeated notes and chromatic melodies on the piano are accompanied by high string harmonics, brief wind melodies, and brass swells. Intermezzo 3 has a more aggressive cast, with determined piano attacks, overblown flutes, and acerbic string lines. The final movement is a passacaglia that begins delicately, with ornamented lines in the piano and sustained strings. The piano builds corruscating lines over the ground bass, successively joined by members of the wind family who play sustained passages. Arcing strings and brass chords crescendo before cutting off to allow the solo piano to return to music reminiscent of the reflective opening, which here leads to a hushed close. Tamara Stefanovich is a powerful performer with a commanding presence, full sound, and facility in fleet passages. She also plays, in places such as the close of the final movement, with considerable delicacy. The Piano Concerto is an impressive, formally inventive, addition to the genre.
The title work concludes the CD. In his program note, Suckling expresses the desire to “write twenty minutes of orchestral music that lives its life in a perpetual state of high energy.” He achieves this goal, creating an imaginatively scored and formally intricate work. It begins with attacks from percussion and disjunct pitch cells and glissandos from strings and winds. These gradually accrete into a short ostinato in which bass octaves are followed by gear shifting gestures that alternate between sections of the orchestra. This ends with an accelerating, thunderous climax of hammering bass octaves and fortissimo polytonal tutti chords. It is succeeded by a quieter, but no less vivid, section for altissimo flutes and sustained strings. A sudden breakthrough of loud brass chords, exuberant drumming, and oscillating strings propels the piece forward only to be cut off in favor of solo timpani repetitions.
The second movement begins attacca, with flute filigrees returning, set against brass swells this time, with a horn melody that begins to reestablish a sense of tonality. The brass moves from chorale to coloristic overtone chords. Microtonal adjustments added by instruments joining create a bevy of shimmer. Suckling maintains this spectral aura, tweaking it with overtones added and subtracted. In the midst, a lyrical theme appears first in lower brass and then oboe. We move gradually from microtones to a blurring into the micropolyphonic spectrum, with glissandos, clusters, and sustained notes competing for the field. This builds into an intense cluster chord that is echoed by a just major triad and then a harmonic laden overtone passage. Polychords in a reverberant echo, stacked verticals, and slashing melody are succeeded by an echo of the beginning of the first movement’s percussion attacks, which closes the piece.
Martin Suckling has an unerring sense of pacing and is an abundantly talented orchestrator. This Departing Landscape establishes him as a distinctive voice. One hopes his second portrait CD isn’t long in coming.
Louis Andriessen has died. He was a highly idiosyncratic composer of music that, like the man himself, inspires great love. Encountering his music as a young composer changed my life. Encountering him as a conductor and producer was one of the greatest joys of my life.
Louis was an incredibly gregarious, gentle, funny, wickedly funny, intelligent, well-read man. He treated everyone as a peer, regardless of age or career stage. Always curious and encouraging, he would ask young composers after their work, talk about his favorite American television shows (the “highly ironical” Desperate Housewives and South Park were among his favorites), who relished being in the company of people (a rarity among composers). During the 2014 Andriessen75 festival in Washington, DC , it was striking to see him become increasingly withdrawn as performer friends completed their stints and left him behind. His wife, the violinist Monica Germino, explained that he was a very social person and likes having people around him who loses something of himself when he has no one around for mischief. For Louis, balancing that part of his personality with the essentially lonely aspect of our profession meant regulating his schedule. He always kept a two hour window in the afternoons clear for his “naps”–periods of restful downtime devoted not just to relaxation but also to some comopsition, especially on the road.
As a composer, Louis is often grouped with the early generation of minimalist composers. His music, however, never focuses enough on process to really be considered minimalist (he preferred to think of that music as “repetitive music” anyway). The truth is that his musical interests were broad and rather catholic. He is said to have written the first 12-tone piece in Dutch music history, is a published scholar, with Elmer Schoenberger, of Stravinsky (The Apollonian Clockwork, an impressively bizarre book in which it’s impossible to tell what is true and what is embellishment, let alone one authorial voice from the other), and wrote densely maximalist music theater that, yes, incorporates repetitive aspects. He also loved Bach and counterpoint, and the juxtaposition, particularly in the chorale preludes, of two different tempi for dramatic effect. Most famously, and no doubt through his love of Stravinsky, his music is highly ironic. And yet, occasionally, rarely, when called for, as in the waltz setting of the Song of Songs in part four of La Commedia, he could be sincere to the point of sentimentality.
His influence is one of personal and political aesthetic as much as musical. “Who are you composing for: who’s going to play, where’s it going to be played and for whom,” he wrote in 1980. “If you ask yourself these questions and try to come up with some kind of answer then you’re already deeply immersed in the field of cultural politics.” (Everett, 2006) This meant embracing all art as political, an attitude that led him and other young composers to form the Notenkrakers collective, founding the ensemble De Volharding, and engaging in disruptive non-violent protest against the perceived problems of Dutch musical life in the 1960s and 1970s. This attitude permeates a great deal of Dutch and AMERICAN new music. It is impossible to think of groups like Bang on a Can, Alarm Will Sound and my own Great Noise Ensemble, among many others, without such an outlook.
Louis’ best pieces have a sense of maximalist importance beyond their often profound subject matter. State power, Marxism, Anarchism, Catholicism, the nature of time and even matter itself are all themes he explored. Each piece is also perfectly constructed with a musical logic that embraces tonal consonance and emancipated dissonance; minimalist repetition with maximalist architecture. His “monsters,” as he called his large works, are cathedrals of sound (in the case of Hadjewich, literally!). They are among the most important works of the late 20th and early 21st century. I hope that one of their most unique aspects, their instrumentation, does not severely limit their performance moving forward as they often have so far. At the same time, a performance of one of Andriessen’s monsters is always an event because of the challenge of mounting them. That specialness is part of the appeal, too.
They say to never meet your heroes or they will disappoint you. Louis Andriessen was the exception that proved that rule. He was gregarious, generous, mischevous, encouraging and supportive. In Amsterdam in 2011, we attended a concert together by the Steve Lehman Octet. The absolute virtuosity of those musicians and the metrical magic in their music was astounding, and Louis was like a giddy boy taking it in, wondering out loud how they did it. that joie de vivre was infectious, as was his encouragement of younger musicians. He sometimes seemed to lack ego (though he certainly had one. How could he not?). I still cannot believe that I was lucky enough not just to meet him, but to work with and befriend him!
A giant has fallen. Living in a world without Louis feels apocalyptic. Or, it would, if he himself didn’t seem to have an ironic relationship with death. “Death is when you don’t piss anymore, you don’t shit anymore, you don’t think anymore” sings the boys’ choir at the end of “Dancing on the Bones” in the Triology of the Last Day. It is a part of life as much as birth and everything in between. That attitude is also one of his great lessons. To paraphrase Gabriel Garcia Marquez, said: don’t cry because it ended; smile because it happened.
