Category Archives: Classical Music

Margaret Bonds: pianist composer, and teacher

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Margaret Bonds (1913-1972) was a pianist, composer, and teacher of music. I probably first became aware of her as a teenager, through some of her arrangements of spirituals for "classical" voice, especially as sung by Leontyne Price (e.g. He's Got The Whole World In His Hand, which Price commissioned from Bonds in the early 1960s) but have only recently delved more deeply into her work, and realized that many of her compositions --- the classical songs and some piano pieces are what I've really gotten into so far--- should be considered classics of 20th century American music. I expect they will become---indeed, hopefully, many of them already are---a permanent part of the classical music repertoire.

Most recently, I was reminded of Bonds by an excellent essay by pianist and composer Ethan Iverson, whose blog Do the M@th is essential reading for those interested in jazz and/or classical music. "Black music teachers in the age of segregation" emphasizes their contribution to the musical development of jazz musicians, both by teaching European techniques and theory, and leading ensembles often covering a wide range of music styles, sometimes integrating African-derived and African-American-developed elements and procedures. Iverson doesn't mention Bonds in his essay, but she is yet another example of a black musician whose role as teacher was important in American music---although her compositions and (sadly, probably under-documented) live performances are equally important contributions.

Bonds as teacher, as well as performer and composer, figures prominently in the diaries and essays of Ned Rorem---she was one of his childhood piano teachers in Chicago, and helped him with his first forays into notated composition. Rorem's discussion of his time with her, as well as with other childhood teachers, in the essay "The Piano in My Life" from Setting the Tone: Essays and a Diary is engrossing.

It was time for a real teacher... Margaret Bonds .... at twenty-two was a middle-western "personality", having played Carpenter's Concertino with the Chicago Symphony under the composer's direction, and being herself a composer of mainly spiritual arrangements and of original songs in collaboration with Langston Hughes. ... At our first lesson, she played me some ear-openers, The White Peacock by Griffes, and Carpenter's American Tango. Had I ever heard American music before? ...

Margaret Bonds played with the authority of a professional, an authority I'd never heard in a living room, an authority stemming from the fact that she herself was a composer and thus approached all music from the inside out, an authority that was contagious. [...]

The first piece I wrote down, "The Glass Cloud," was influenced by Margaret's other prize pupil, Gerald Cook. [...] In the years to come his identity with Margaret would shift from student to colleague as the two-piano team, Bonds and Cook, became a glamorous enterprise at Cerutti's in New York, and at Spivy's Roof. When Margaret went her separate way to marriage, motherhood, documentation of Negro song, opera writing, and death, Gerald turned into the greatest living accompanist of the Blues, working first with the lamented Libby Holman, then--and still--with Alberta Hunter.

Did I outgrow Margaret Bonds? Why were lessons discontinued? If there was an objection to a seeming glib jazziness chez elle, Margaret thought of herself as classical and deep. (Conversely, I feel as influenced by prewar jazz as by "serious" music. Not the tune itself but Billie Holiday's way with a tune taught me to knead a vocal phrase, just as Count Basie's piano playing still shapes my piano composing.) In any case Margaret and I lost track of each other until we had all moved East during the war. Then we remained close friends until she died.

The whole essay is a great read, simultaneously sketching with vivid strokes aspects of an era in American music and American life, and of Rorem's musical development.

There is much more about Bonds at the pages for the 2016-2017 exhibitions "Margaret Bonds: Composer and Activist" and "Margaret Bonds and Langston Hughes: A Musical Friendship" at the Georgetown University Library (where some of her papers are held) including music manuscripts, photographs, concert programs, and correspondence from, among others, Rorem, Hughes, and Andy Razaf (whose stationery sports a sidebar listing songs he composed and/or wrote the lyrics to). Directly relevant to the matter of Black teachers and the institutions they worked in as a crucial resource in the development of American music is this from the exhibition text:

Throughout the 1950s, Bonds continued her work as a composer, performer and teacher. In addition to private lessons, she joined the staff of East Side House Settlement, a non-profit social services organization committed to serving New York’s underprivileged youth. At East Side House she taught weekly music classes, hosted performances featuring African-American composers, and served as music director for the annual spring musical.

There may be a lot to rediscover about her influence, as a teacher, on jazz and classical musicians, especially African-American ones, during this period in New York. East Side House Settlement is still active.

As far as her work as composer is concerned, from what is available on disc or digital streaming I'm particularly partial to her pieces for solo piano, and her songs. What is available in these genres is extremely good, and should find a permanent place in the repertoire of pianists and singers. Although the list of works in her Wikipedia entry is not lengthy, there is much that looks promising that does not appear to available in recordings or online performances; one hopes that will change.

 The Bells, based on the spiritual Peter Go Ring Dem Bells, from her Spiritual Suite for Piano, beautifully melds influences from European and American classical music (especially Debussy, Ravel, and perhaps Americans like Charles Tomlinson Griffes (who crops up in the Rorem quote above)) with African-American spirituals and pianistic touches reminiscent of jazz or perhaps the popular music of the time. Here it is played by Thomas Otten as part of a 2013 symposium on Bonds' work:

The other two movements, Dry Bones and Troubled Water, are also on youtube played by Otten at this symposium; below, Troubled Water, based on the spiritual Wade in the Water, is played by Samantha Ege:

The Youtube listing for Ege's performance gives the date of Troubled Water as 1967, but Randye Jones' online biography (which also displays the abovementioned concert program) also lists it as part of the Spirituals Suite, which it dates to the 1940s or early 1950s.

Bonds' setting, published in 1959, of Three Dream Portraits by Langston Hughes is superbly done. The only version for low male voice with piano that I've found on Youtube in acceptable sound is an excellent one by baritone Thomas Hampson with Kuang-Hao Wang on piano:

(Dorian Hall deserves mention for a superb performance with Dr. Timothy Cheek on piano, but there is unfortunately a lot of distortion in the recording---this would appear to be a casually recorded, though musically top-notch, recital.) There are several female voice versions on Youtube in good sound, for example one sung by Bonnie Pomfret with Laura Gordy on piano; another by Icy Simpson with Artina McCain on piano and one by an unidentified singer and the Ritz Chamber Players. The live recital recording of no. 1 in the series, Minstrel Man, by Nicole Taylor with Joan Sasaki on piano, is also worth mentioning, though the recorded sound quality is not perfect. Yolanda Rhodes and Josefina Gandolfi also do an excellent job with this song.

The settings of Hughes' Songs of the Seasons are also excellent. Below, an excellent live performance (the vocalist is Louise Toppin) of Summer Storm from a valuable 2013 symposium on Bonds, available as a sequence of youtube videos, that includes lectures as well as performances of works by Bonds and by her teacher, Florence Price (e.g. Price's Night, beautifully sung by the extraordinary countertenor Darryl Taylor).

In this symposium Toppin also performs several excellent songs that are not listed in the Wikipedia entry on Bonds. Stopping by Woods and The Pasture, from 1958, are on texts by Robert Frost; Feast, on a text of Edna St. Vincent Millay. Winter Moon, another of the four Songs of the Seasons, is available in a studio recording by Toppin with John B. O'Brien on piano. Bonds' songs also work beautifully sung by baritone Malcolm Merriweather with Ashley Jackson on harp rather than piano: Winter Moon from Seasons, To A Brown Girl, Dead (1933) on a text by Countee Cullen, and the Three Dream Portraits appear on a CD along with Bonds' Christmas cantata, Ballad of the Brown King, to words of Langston Hughes. Little David is an example of Bonds' setting a traditional African-American spiritual melody and text:

Here, as in many of Bonds' arrangements of spirituals, the piano part doesn't provide a conventional chordal background, nor does it double the voice---it is new musical material that is entirely Bonds', and contrasts with the vocal line while being absolutely appropriate to it.

Last but not least, perhaps Bonds' best known song is her setting of Langston Hughes' The Negro Speaks of Rivers, composed around 1936 and first published in 1944. Bonds spoke of the great personal significance of this poem to her, in an interview with James Hatch quoted in Jones' online biography:

I was in this prejudiced university [Northwestern, where she matriculated in 1929 and where, according to Jones, "she was allowed to study but not to live or use their facilities"], this terribly prejudiced place–I was looking in the basement of the Evanston Public Library where they had the poetry. I came in contact with this wonderful poem, “The Negro Speaks of Rivers,” and I’m sure it helped my feelings of security. Because in that poem he [Langston Hughes] tells how great the black man is: And if I had any misgivings, which I would have to have–here you are in a setup where the restaurants won’t serve you and you’re going to college, you’re sacrificing, trying to get through school–and I know that poem helped save me.

A favorite performance of mine is Gerald Blanchard's, from his CD on Blue Griffin:

Thomas Hampson gives a mellower, less urgent reading, but beautifully phrased and recorded, and making the text exceptionally intelligible:

One can also find on youtube a mixed-chorus SATB arrangement of this setting---it is not clear to me whether the arrangement is by Bonds herself or not, though I suspect it is---which would be well worth tracking down by interested choirs.

There's much more to be said, and investigated, about Bonds and her work; some of the links above, especially the Kilgore dissertation and the brief online Randye Jones biography, are good starting points, as is the Song of America page on Bonds. I have a copy of Mildred Denby Green's Black Women Composers: A Genesis, which has more on Bonds, her teacher Florence Price and others, on the way, as well as an Anthology of Art Songs by Black American Composers, edited by Willis Patterson (published by Hal Leonard Corp.) that includes the score of Three Dream Portraits. I'm looking forward to seeing what I discover in this anthology, although I'll probably be studying the musical content of, rather than singing, the Dream Portraits, while searching for scores for the Songs of the Seasons and the Frost and Millay settings, which are not included in that anthology. But I'll stop here for now, and leave you to enjoy her music.

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De Guise-Langlois & Morgenstern Trio in Messiaen's Quartet for the End of Time, and Dover String Quartet in Mendelssohn Op. 80, at the Tucson Winter Chamber Music Festival

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On Wednesday, March 7, 2018, at the Leo Rich theater in the Tucson Convention Center, I heard two of the best chamber music performances I've ever heard.  As part of the 25th Tucson Winter Chamber Music Festival, clarinetist Romie de Guise-Langlois and the Morgenstern Trio performed Olivier Messiaen's Quatuor pour la fin du temps (Quartet for the end of time), for a standard piano trio (piano, violin, cello) plus clarinet, and the Dover Quartet performed Mendelssohn's String Quartet in F minor, Opus 80.  You may find in my reviews that I tend to emphasize the positive, and not belabor it when a performance could have been better, instead concentrating on how much I have gotten out of the performance that was actually given.  So let me emphasize that that is not the case here: one could imagine performing these works a little differently, perhaps, but not better than was done here.  This was an extraordinary, unforgettable evening of music.

Program for the first performance of Quatuor Pour la Fin du Temps

The Messiaen is a piece I have valued for decades; I know it to the point of recognizing many of the themes when played in concert, but (unlike some other works) I have not internalized it to the extent of being able to replay significant parts of it in my head.  I have long considered it one of the most significant pieces of twentieth century chamber music; the performance by de Guise-Langlois and the Morgenstern made it clear that it is one of the pinnacles of music of any time or place.  It is inspired by the biblical book of Revelations, and deeply informed, as was all of Messiaen's music, by the composer's intense and very personal form of Catholic faith, and while it should be experienced in this light, with the aid of Messiaen's own program notes (and the obvious signposts provided by the movement titles), it is of universal value and appeal regardless of the auditor's faith or lack of faith.    A translation of Messiaen's notes is included in the Wikipedia article on the piece.  (References like "blue and orange chords" evince Messiaen's synaesthesia, in which harmonies evoked experiences of color.)  I won't try much to describe the significance of the music or the experience of listening to it, since Messiaen's notes give a pretty good idea of what's in store.  In this regard I'll just say that he is strikingly successful at achieving---roughly speaking, as the color experiences will not be available to most of us and the specific religious references are more inspiration or metaphor than something reproducible or verifiable---what he describes in the notes:  the music is powerful, beautiful, glorious.

Alex Ross' 2004 New Yorker article (reviewing a book on the piece by Rebecca Rischin, and a performance by the Met Chamber ensemble) provides further valuable background and reaction to the piece, which he calls "the most ethereally beautiful music of the twentieth century".  It was composed primarily in 1940-41 while Messiaen was imprisoned in the German prisoner of war camp Stalag VIII, and first performed there in 1941.  Parts of it were apparently begun earlier (notably the third movement, Abîme des Oiseaux (Abyss of the Birds, for solo clarinet).  I am not sure how deeply the music was influenced by the conditions under which it was composed, since in style, content, and intensity it does not seem to me radically different from his work before and after the war.  It's possible that the composition of the work for a medium-size chamber group may be one of the most important effects of the quartet's origin in a POW camp---it may be my own ignorance, but most of the other great works I am aware of by Messiaen are either for piano (or piano and voice), or large groups like orchestra or orchestra with chorus.

Ross differs from Messiaen in how he describes the "Seven Trumpets" movement, writing:  "the gentlest apocalypse imaginable. The “seven trumpets” and other signs of doom aren’t roaring sound-masses...".  Whereas for Messiaen it is "Music of stone, formidable granite sound; irresistible movement of steel, huge blocks of purple rage, icy drunkenness. [...]terrible fortissimo[...]".  How one experiences it may depend on the performance, I guess, as well as the auditor.  Ross calls the "Trumpets" section "Second Coming jam sessions", and in connection with the piece overall (not necessarily this movement), my wife also mentioned a kinship with jazz.  This should be understood in light of the rather wide range of jazz my wife and I listen to --- not just bebop and swing masters like Bob Rockwell and colleagues, but avant-garde artists like Charles Gayle and Peter Broetzmann, and modern if not quite avant-garde groups like Kenny Werner's quartet, Charles Lloyd with Bill Frisell, and the Billy Hart Quartet, just to mention a few groups we have recently heard live.  Indeed, the Lloyd/Frisell combo and the Hart quartet (with Ethan Iverson on piano, Mark Turner on sax, and Ben Street on bass) are especially prone to episodes of Messiaenic intensity: continually evolving ecstatic/reflective grooves, carefully crafted harmonic coloration, dancing rhythmic complexities, calm serenities bringing to mind Baudelairean realms where "tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté, / Luxe, calme et volupté".

As I said above, the performance by de Guise-Langlois and the Morgenstern was one of the best things I've ever heard.  Clichés like "riveting", "stunning", etc...apply without reservation and quite literally:  my attention did not wander for a moment during the long performance, and the audience sat in the proverbial stunned silence for ten or twenty seconds after the musicians lowered their bows and instruments, before breaking into a standing ovation.  Of course, S.O.'s have become disconcertingly common these days (it especially annoys me when people stand and clap as a prelude to an early run for the exits), but this one was fully deserved. Ross' generally positive review of the performance he attended remarks that it "lacked the total unanimity that makes a great performance of the Quartet seem like a mind-reading séance".  This performance had no such lack, although our close vantage point in this relatively small auditorium disclosed that the mind-reading was taking place in the usual way, through ears and eyes, as they very actively looked at each other, nodded for cues, sometimes swaying to the music.  It was indeed a kind of séance.  De Guise-Langlois' clarinet playing is remarkable in its dynamic and expressive range and sensitivity to the other musicians; I got the impression (perhaps misguided) that her attention to the other musicians may have been the crucial ingredient binding them into a unit capable of such a sublime achievement.  She has a wide range of expressive timbre at her command, but overall I would say skewed toward clarity and purity of tone.  Catherine Klipfel's tone, on a Steinway D, was great for this piece, bell-like with just enough of a touch of hollowness and edge to add complexity and not to be icily pure.  Everyone played superbly and I will be on the lookout for the Morgenstern and de Guise-Langlois in other repertoire.  De Guise-Langlois seems to me clearly a rising superstar of the classical clarinet.  I didn't find any single link at Youtube that I felt gives an adequate idea of the full range of what she can do, in a sympathetic medium-size chamber context.  I did very much like a contemporary (though relatively conservative stylistically) duet with piano, composed by Kevin Puts.

The space above the stage in the Leo Rich auditorium was larded with microphones for this performance, and highlights of Tucson Chamber Music Festival are eventually broadcast on Classical KUAT-FM, 90.5/89.7 FM, so I recommend trying to find out when this will happen and streaming the broadcast over the web.  (It may be a long time from now, though.)  I would be thrilled if it eventuated in a full-fidelity digital recording---the Arizona Chamber Music Association does sell CDs of past festival highlights, so we can hope this performance will appear on such a disc in the future.

Ross recommends the 1975 recording by Tashi as "still unsurpassed" (at least in 2004).  I have long had this on LP, but have done most of my listening to this Deutsche Grammophon CD featuring Daniel Barenboim on piano (Youtube link here).  I also recall getting a lot out of an excellent performance at the Santa Fe Chamber Music festival in the 1990s, and a really wonderful performance of the solo clarinet movement at the Smithsonian American Art Museum's concert series a few years back.  I think it was part of a concert by the ensemble Eighth Blackbird.  I haven't revisited the recordings I own since the Tucson concert, because I don't want anything to displace it in my memory, although I think it is now time to start listening, as this is a piece of music I want to "git in my soul," as Charles Mingus might say.

I'm not sure if I'd heard of the Dover quartet before this performance of the Mendelssohn.   I quickly decided that the Dover is one of my favorite string quartets ever.  String quartets can sometimes sound strident---an effect that may depend partly on the type of strings they are using.  The Dover was anything but, with a warm, even at times mellow timbre that nevertheless had plenty of texture and was compatible with great intensity and drive where needed.    The F minor quartet, Opus 80, was composed in the shadow of the death of Mendelssohn's beloved sister Fanny; within a few months of its composition, Mendelssohn too was dead.  It is a masterpiece, and the Dover did it full justice.  The outer movements had plenty of intensity.  The slow movement had a bit more autumnal, meditative, mellow pastoral feel --- I had a sense that this movement, too, could have been given more intensity and a different, more anguished, emotional tone in places, but not the sense that such an interpretation would have been preferable, particularly in light of the Sturm und Drang that was often in evidence in the outer movements.  An outstanding performance, also fully deserving of the standing ovation that ensued.

Ensembl Mitdvest: Muczynski, Bach, Birtwistle, and Dvorak at Kastelskirken, Copenhagen

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At Kastelskirken in the Kastellet fort in Copenhagen today (19.11.2017) a wind quintet drawn from the Danish Ensembl MidtVest played Robert Muczynski's woodwind quintet, opus 45; J. S. Bach's Partita in A minor for solo flute and basso continuo (bass clarinet); Harrison Birtwistle's Five Distances for Woodwind Quintet, and an arrangement by David Jolley of Antonin Dvorak's String Quartet # 10 in E minor, opus 51. With its white rectangular interior and tall mullioned windows with clear panes affording views of the 17th century buildings, with their steep tiled roofs, around the spacious raked-gravel courtyard inside the fort, and the Danish state flag with swallowtail streaming in the wind, as well as strollers and the occasional patrolling pair of soldiers on the grassy outer rampart, Kastelskirken was an atmospheric location for a concert on a blustery late-fall afternoon. The quintet is Charlotte Norholt, flute; Blanca Gleisner, oboe; Tommaso Longquich, clarinet; Niel Page, horn, and Yavor Petkov, bassoon.

I did not previously know American composer Robert Muczynski (1929-2010), and am delighted to have been introduced to him. The wind quintet is a super piece, in a melodic, more or less tonal style, with plenty of brio and humor at times, especially in the opening Allegro risoluto, but also beauty and seriousness, especially in the second movement (Andante). His style is personal rather than derivative, but to give a rough idea what to expect, one might cite some commonalities with impressionism, flecked with a little bluesiness in places (to my ear); Poulenc and other composers of that era; Rorem, William Schuman, and others of that ilk, even while I had a clear sense that he was aware of post-tonal developments and able to incorporate aspects of them where it made musical sense. A great pleasure to hear and I will seek out a recording and other chances to hear it again. An interview with Muczynski by classical DJ Bruce McDuffie is very much worth reading.

I thoroughly enjoyed the Bach also. Flutist Norholt used quite a bit more rubato than I'm used to in Bach, especially in the very familiar first movement of this piece, but it was not an impediment to enjoyment.

It's always good to finish off the first part of a program with a substantial, crowd-pleasing potboiler to send folks into intermission with, and the MidtVest did just that with Harrison Birtwistle's Five Distances. The English composer, born in 1934, is generally considered a pretty austere, uncompromising atonal composer, and this was no largo sweetota, but the piece has structure, recognizable recurring elements, variety and beauty. The MidtVests' performance seemed perhaps more expressive and intense, than the Boulez/Ensemble Intercontemporain performance I linked above, though it's hard to compare a live performance to a recording. The audience (which I estimate numbered around 70-90) seemed to have no trouble connecting with it, and it received a rousing round of applause.

After the break, an excellent performance of a familiar and well-loved Dvorak string quartet, arranged for wind quintet. At first I though it was missing something in the phrasing that could perhaps only be provided by the original strings, but fairly quickly settled in to enjoying a committed and successful performance.

An excellent concert all round, with the superb, and to me, unfamiliar, Muczynksi and Birtwistle pieces real standouts. Kudos to the MidtVest for top-notch playing and for succeeding with an adventurous program.

Schumann: Papillons, Blumenstück, Novellette; Novaes, Arrau, Sokolov

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Since my last post involved some Schumann piano pieces, I thought I should link to some performances of them:

Papillons, Op. 2, Guiomar Novaes, piano:

Blumenstück, Opus 19 in Db major, Claudio Arrau, piano:

Novellette, Op. 18 No. 8 in F# minor.  Grigory Sokolov, piano:

Orion Weiss with the Salzburg Marionettes: Schumann, Debussy

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Not sure why this has been sitting around as a draft, but I'm belatedly posting it now; good music is always relevant:

Really glad I finally decided to go see and hear the Salzburg Marionette Theatre with pianist Orion Weiss play Los Alamos on Nov. 1 (2014), because Weiss' Schumann was a revelation, and his Debussy superb as well.  With relatively spare sets and costuming, the Marionettes accompanied Weiss in Schumann's Papillons, Opus 2, a succession of short dance movements bookended  by an introduction and finale.  The Marionettes' storyline seemed to involve a love, or at least flirtation, triangle.  Relatively lighthearted, as was the music (at least for Schumann).  The music was my main focus and it held my attention.  Superb music, superbly played.  Perhaps even better were the two longer pieces, played without Marionette action, the Blumenstück in Db, Op. 19, and the Novelette no. 8 in F# minor.  I'm no expert on Schumann's piano music, but I have the impression that many of Schumann's longer works in general can be difficult to interpret effectively---it is easy for them to appear unstructured, longwinded, and/or even a bit repetitive.  No such problem here.  Long developmental passages had a definite trajectory, and both on the level of phrases and the overall structure, Weiss penetrated to the musical meaning of the piece instead of just letting the notes unspool.   When I spoke with Orion after the concert he mentioned that it can be challenging to make the main theme in these pieces still meaningful, and bring something new to it, each time it recurs; he definitely succeeded.  I've sometimes felt like the Los Alamos Concert Association's Steinway D can sound not quite brilliant enough, and perhaps like the action is a bit heavy, slowing things down a bit.  Not so much recently, though.  I enjoy hearing how different that piano can sound each time a different artist plays it, and Weiss got a great tone out of it, balanced between brilliance and purity and warmth and complexity, and played with great facility though not in a technically showy manner.  (I suspect that just to sound at ease in these pieces is quite a technical challenge!).

Unfortunately although Weiss has quite a few CDs out, for example Scarlatti sonatas, and Rhapsody in Blue (on different CDs!) on Naxos, his Schumann is not available on disc.  If he ever puts out a disc of Schumann, I'll snap it up; in the meanwhile I'm going to investigate the piano music in more depth.

After intermission, we were treated to Debussy's relatively rarely performed La Boîte a Joujoux (The Toy Box).  This was explicitly composed as music for a marionette ballet, and the sets were much more elaborate and beautifully done, the music and action perfectly integrated.  The music, appropriately, is a tad less adventurous than the great piano-only works like the Preludes, with perhaps more standard sounding pentatonic and whole tone material, and a bit less complex and coloristic harmony, a bit more emphatic and regular rhythm at times (and explicit punctuation of the action), but still, very rewarding, and perfectly played.  Atogether a wonderful, transporting evening of music and stagecraft.

Addendum:  I found this Nov. 2 post by the piano technician for LACA--- if it refers to the previous night's concert, as the photo of the artist also suggests, then I join Orion in thanking him for a great job getting the piano ready.

Bach, Johannes-Passion, Bachchor und Orchester Hannover, Marktkirche

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I attended a performance of J.S. Bach's Passion according to St. John (Johannespassion) by the  Hannover Bach Choir and Orchestra last night at the Marktkirche in the central market square of Hannover's old town. I may or may not have listened my way through this work on LP as a youngster, and probably did overhear it on the stereo growing up, but this is probably my first careful listen to the whole piece. (About two hours, no intermission though a brief episode of tuning between the two sections.)  A very rewarding if, obviously, fairly solemn two hours.  Really superb choral singing with the different vocal parts sufficiently distinct and the words very clear (well, especially with the aid of a program given my limited German) but the choir unified.  Remarkably dramatic effect when the choir portrays the crowds present at the high priest's and Pilate's interrogations of Jesus, contrasting with the choir's other main role as expressing Christian sentiments from a point of view that is not necessarily within the narrative aspect of the piece (but might also be taken so, as expressing another aspect of experience of some in the crowd).  The latter is usually in hymn-like chorales, but also often (as in the opening "Herr, unser Herrscher dessen Ruhm") in more complex and extended episodes with more involvement of the orchestra.  The visible wind instruments were baroque in appearance, there was a large lute, and I suspect the string section and most or all of the rest of the orchestra was original style instruments as well.  Tempos were relatively fast, and the resulting sound was excellent, though for some reason the orchestra came across with less clarity than the singers---the relatively reverberant acoustic of the tall, relatively open North German gothic brick hall church maybe having something to do with that. On balance I think the original instruments and the chosen tempos gave a somewhat rough, unprettified, but still accurate and well-played, effect that worked extremely well in the piece, accentuating its seriousness.  Some passages, in which the choir and orchestra engaged in extended contrapuntal reflection upon a dramatic development, or expression of the crowd's intention or reaction, with voices and instruments becoming a swirl of fast-moving harmonies and passing tones, attained an eerie and dramatic effect that reminded me of some twentieth century postserialism, maybe Ligeti or Penderecki.   The soloists were really excellent and did everything well.  Such a performance is definitely not about attention-getting individual vocals but all the soloists did have, in performances that were consistent throughout, some songs that really stood out in expressing key moments in the drama.   Alto Christian Rohrbach has a beautiful clear voice and delivered "Es ist vollbracht!" perfectly; the soprano soloist (either Miriam Meyer or Nadine Dilger; two sopranos are listed in the program) was especially affecting (though never overdoing it) with "Zerfließe, mein Herze" ("Dein Jesus ist tot!"); bass Albrecht Pohl did a great job of handling a variety of vocal tasks in combining the role of Pilate with many additional bass arias.  Johannes Strauß was especially outstanding as the Evangelist---he has an amazingly clear and beautiful tenor voice, deployed with perfect control.

Of course an extended piece like this with religious and dramatic aspects is an occasion for plenty of reflection on musical aspects of the piece but also on these in relation to the human condition.  One of the more interesting aspects of this piece for me was the amount of attention given to the political and social aspect of the story: the interaction with Pilate (I don't fully understand what's going on here yet), the issue about Jesus being called "King of the Jews" but asserting "My kingdom is not of this world", the high priest and the servant, and later the crowd after the exchange with Pilate "Shall I crucify your king?" "We have no King but the Emperor", calling for Jesus' crucifixion.  (There seems to be an emphasis on "the Jews" delivering Jesus to Pilate and calling for his crucifixion in this text.)

A superb, clear, controlled and well-thought-out performance and a perfect way to get better acquainted with this serious, reflective, many-faceted masterwork of Bach's.

Duke Ellington Sacred Concerts---Oxford University Jazz Orchestra and Schola Cantorum Oxford

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Just came from an extraordinary concert at the Sheldonian Theatre in which the Oxford University Jazz Orchestra and the Schola Cantorum of Oxford performed a version of Duke Ellington's Sacred Concerts, with two pieces from composer and baritone Roderick Williams' Oxford Blues Service inserted in the Sacred Concert running order.  This constituted the second half of the program; I'll perhaps write in another post about the first half, which featured many good things but a sound balance that was slightly problematic at times, with the band occasionally drowning out the excellent guest soloist, alto saxophonist Nigel Hitchcock.  (I can't allude to the first half, though, without mentioning the really superb singing of first-year Olivia Williams in "Lookin' Back" and "Feelin' Good".)  In the second half, the balance was suddenly almost perfect, the bass acoustic throughout, the swing consistent and unforced, and immediately with the meditative baritone saxophone solo, originally performed by Harry Carney, that introduces "In the Beginning God" we were immersed in Duke Ellington's world of sound and his personal take on religion and spirituality.  Besides the excellence of the band, choir, and soloists, the conducting and preparation of the musicians by Schola conductor James Burton was clearly crucial to the success of this performance.  Nigel Hitchcock's beautiful alto playing was another crucial ingredient, but the regular band members who played key solos, like the baritone sax in "In the Beginning", the clarinet in "Freedom", the plunger-muted trumpet in "The Shepherd" did themselves and the Duke proud as well.  The Roderick Williams pieces "Gray Skies Passing Over" and "The Lord's Prayer"  fit in perfectly, being in a somewhat harmonically lush jazz-to-mid-twentieth-century pop vocal style very similar to parts of the Ellington vocal score, but more contrapuntal, with, I think, an echo of English, and even perhaps Renaissance, church music.

Besides getting real swing from the ensemble, Burton kept things relaxed but accurate, with a real dynamic range, the band in balance with the soloists (Ellington's writing presumably helps here too), expressive phrasing and control over the pace and development of each piece.  "Freedom" was another standout, done with intense feeling and great energy, drawing roars of approval from the audience.  But all the movements were executed superbly, and there were many such moments.  The tap-dancing of Annette Walker, in "David Danced Before The Lord" was another highlight.

This was an utterly professional-sounding performance that felt infused with the passion of people who are together reaching a level they may or may not have reached before, in the zone, giving the audience a musical experience not to be forgotten.  The Sacred Concerts may be a work best experienced live---it was certainly immensely effective, enjoyable, powerful, and moving in this performance.  Bass player and alto Lila Chrisp who is in both groups apparently had the idea that they should join forces in this piece.  I'm very grateful to everyone involved for making this happen and really filling the Sheldonian with the spirit---especially the spirit of Duke Ellington and his band.

 

Des Américains à Paris

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Via Ned Rorem, a really nice photo and audio montage promoting a program of a cappella choral music by some of Nadia Boulanger's American pupils: Ives, Copland, Bernstein, Barber, Stravinsky, Copland, Reich, Glass.   If I were in Luxembourg or deep Southwest France in March, I'd definitely go out of my way to hear this. High-resolution photos; it's worth making the video full-screen.

Viet Cuong, Moth

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For at least a few more days you can stream Moth, by classical composer Viet Cuong, performed, at the Midwest Band Clinic, by the Brooklyn Wind Symphony conducted by Jeff Ball, on Performance Today.  It is also available, probably more permanently, at his website and on his Soundcloud page.  I like the piece a lot.  The performance is excellent, really remarkable for an all-volunteer ensemble.  The style is fairly modern for PT, which is to say it is, roughly, in the idiom of tonal Western classical music from the 1920s and 1930s, with perhaps a smidgin of minimalism.  At first listen I thought it made clear use of the language of Stravinksy, especially Petrouchka and Le Sacre du Printemps, as well as of something resembling the post-Stravinsky and neoclassical phase of the 1930s, say, Milhaud, Poulenc, Constant Lambert, but without descending into pastiche.  On my second listen, with better sound, I was a bit taken aback by what I perceive as strong influence from Le Sacre, both in form and in content.   I am less startled by that after further listens.  Form-wise, it intersperses sections with ostinato, theme repetition (certainly key ingredients of Sacre), and other tension building devices (like modulation, especially stepwise upward modulation, which I don't think are found much in Sacre), with more pensive interludes, often tinged with a minor feel.  Just that kind of alternation is a main structural principal of Sacre.  As my references to neoclassicism and modulation above might suggest, there's somewhat more standard tonal content in Cuong's piece, thought it also has very strong Stravinsky-like "modal" or scalar elements, and occasional vaguely Iberian-sounding moments.  (As an aside, just thinking about harmony in Le Sacre makes me wonder if there is any standard dominant-to-tonic resolution at all in the piece---I think not, or not much.)

Cuong knows how to recombine and play with motives, scales, harmonic tropes and other elements to create interest, unify the piece and move things along in a satisfying way.  He shows this from the outset, with a clever motive consisting of a rising and descending scalar figure, played against a similar but inverted figure (or perhaps they are both fragments of the same extended figure that they evolve into, running up and down on flute, changing direction at different pitches), then relaxing into some Iberian-ish sounds.  At 1:30 we get melodic material very reminiscent of Le Sacre, and around 2:10, I think, the first hint of a four-note figure, which one might notate 3 4 2 1 in minor, also very reminiscent of Sacre (indeed it is very close---and would be identical if the last two notes were interchanged---to the initial four notes of a motive, 3 4 1 2 3 1 in minor with the last two notes twice as long as the preceding four, found in Sacre) that will become increasingly important.  Much of this material is developed and cleverly  combined through what sound to me like various key changes.  Around 3:30 things get more urgent, drums, with ostinato and repetition, especially of the four-note theme, and rising modulation.  (I wonder if there is some influence of John Adams' Harmonielehre here; I am reminded of it, but haven't listened to the Adams piece recently enough to tell.  Or maybe I should just can the speculation about influence.)  Around 4:10, quickly peak tension gives way to a mellow contrapuntal woodwind interlude, and there follows a long stretch with some alternation of faster and more complex passages, building a bit more each time, with pullbacks to this sort of mellowness.  Around 6:30 things seem to get more organized for a final buildup.  The ending, with an upward brass gliss emerging out of the ensemble to a momentarily held note, and then a sudden drop to tympani-punctuated chord, reminds me a little bit of Le Sacre too.

The program for this piece seems to be the gyrating flight of a moth before, and eventual immolation in, a flame, which is also in obvious parallel with Le Sacre's program, of a virgin obliged to dance herself to death in a pagan rite.  So I suspect the structural and idiomatic parallels to Le Sacre are no accident, although the overall tone is much lighter, and at 8'38 in this performance, the piece is of course much shorter.  I interpret these parallels, especially as dextrously integrated with harmonic movement at times quite uncharacteristic of Le Sacre, as a bit of a cheeky and light-hearted tour-de-force of compositional virtuosity.  The thematic material does have interest, but might be a little more on the generic side than ideal in places.  That is not really a problem in this piece.   I enjoyed some of the other pieces on his site but did find some of them a bit lacking in gripping melody.  Sound and Smoke I and II sound tailor-made for something like a fantasy movie soundtrack, and are extremely well done.  Part I sounds just as you might think from the subtitle "feudal castle lights", while Part II I found more distinctive.  I have a feeling that with some even stronger melodic material, perhaps some passages with some longer more sustained lines, Cuong could be really dangerous.  Hopefully Cuong will come up with more gripping melodic material in whatever way is necessary, whether from moments of personal inspiration or by ripping it off with exquisite taste à la Stravinsky if necessary.  (I exaggerate, Stravinsky fans... peace, I am one of you.)  Some of Cuong's other pieces show ability in more contemporary idioms.  He is only 24, a graduate student in composition at Princeton.  He is clearly getting a lot of recognition, as the list of awards, commissions, and performances on his webpage shows.  So he probably has a good career assured.  I hope he has his sights fixed on greatness; I'll be very interested to see what comes next.

Bonus:  On that December 12 PT stream, available for a few more days, the Brahms serenade (end of the 2nd hour) performed by the Sinfonia da Camera, if played on a good stereo, is magic.  (On first hearing through a cheap radio I was unimpressed.  Maybe it is all about the bass, although I think an undistorted treble helps too.)

Paul Groves, Joseph Illick at Santa Fe Festival of Song: Duparc, Britten, Liszt, Rachmaninoff

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On August 8th, we were treated to singing of transcendent beauty from tenor Paul Groves, with superb accompaniment by pianist Joseph Illick, in deeply felt and well-conceived interpretations of  songs by Henri Duparc, Franz Liszt and Sergei Rachmaninoff, and Benjamin Britten's wonderful and imaginative arrangements of British Isles folksongs.  The recital was part of the Santa Fe Festival of Song, a project of Performance Santa Fe (the organization formerly known as the Santa Fe Concert Association) in which singers who are in town to perform at the Opera give art song recitals.  Groves is Florestan in Santa Fe's Fidelio this year, and after hearing him in this recital, I'm eagerly anticipating his performance in that role.

Groves' voice is sweet and clear, but very powerful when he wants it to be, without losing any clarity or getting ragged at volume.  His control over breath, and dynamic range are amazing and deployed to great interpretive effect.  I don't believe that there is a single ideal way of interpreting most songs (though of course some songs may support a more limited range of workable approaches than others)...but I will say that Groves' performances of almost all of these songs were sheer perfection---while one could imagine a different approach being equally successful if equally well-executed, I mostly couldn't imagine anyone singing these songs better than Groves did here. He used the full range of vocal expression available to one with a top-of-the-line trained operatic voice. While a more subdued approach, with climaxes not quite as operatic in their intensity, could work equally well in many of these songs, and indeed provide a perfect opportunity for superb artistry by those who don't quite have the unbelievable volume and projection required for major-stage opera, I am not one who takes the view that operatic intensity should be banished from art-song interpretation. Groves' performance here was an illustration of how perfect and appropriate an approach informed by operatic experience, and empowered by an operatic technique and voice, can be in the art song.

The concert began with Duparc.  I thought the first song, Le manoir de Rosemonde, came off as perhaps a tad too intense and vocally operatic an interpretation, though flawlessly sung.  This might have been in part a matter of gauging the room sound; the Santa Fe United Methodist Church sanctuary is of modest size, with a relatively live and reflective acoustic.  What followed ranged from superb to sublime.  Extase was languorous and hypnotic, Soupir serene and heartfelt, Phidylé an entrancing mélange of rapture and whatever the right word is to express a slightly wistful, mildly sensual, very french kind of elegant wallowing in wistful nostalgia.

Following this, a definite change of pace with five Benjamin Britten settings of British folksongs. A substantial musical contribution from Britten here, with sometimes humorous, often very pretty and always very original settings that enhance, rather than working at cross-purposes to, the feeling and folk flavor of these songs. The Brisk Young Widow had verve and humour. In Sally in Our Alley, Groves did a superb job of putting across a broadly humorous, multi-verse narrative, with an unexpectedly poignant turn in the end. As pointed and effective an artistic meditation on class division as you will find anywhere, while avoiding dourness and simultaneously celebrating the joy of life.  Early One Morning was quiet and poignant, beautifully shaped by Groves, while in The Lincolnshire Poacher and Ca' the Yowes Groves used the more robust side of his voice to great effect in an earthier vein. At the reception following the concert, Groves remarked these Britten folksong settings are actually the most difficult to sing of the works on the program, because of their choppier, less legato line if I understood correctly. (Speculating, this may in part be a peculiarity of singing in English, at least compared to the more vowel-centered nature of French and even Russian (and of course Italian and even German, although neither of these two languages were used in this program)). Of course, that comparison may be more likely to apply once one has put in the hours and years of work necessary to do long lines with the rock-solid breath support and control, and imperturbable legato where necessary, required by the French and Russian-language works on the program.

Next up was a group of four Victor Hugo poems set by Franz Liszt, ranging through a wide range of moods and emotions, from the flirtatious humor of Comment, disaient-ils, to the over-the-top protestations of love in Enfant, si j'etais roi, to the long-lined, sensual love poetry of Oh! quand je dors  (another case where the adjective "sublime" applies to Groves' rendering).  Very colorful, sometimes dramatic, settings of these poems.  Excellent music that I did not know before this recital, and that I was very glad to be made aware of, especially in interpretations of this caliber.

The recital concluded with three songs of Sergei Rachmaninoff.  In the Silence of the Night (Fet), How Fair this Spot (Galin), and Oh Never Sing to Me Again (Pushkin). Again perfectly sung, with focused and specific portrayal of emotion, startling in their beauty and impact.

For the encore, Groves brought out baritone Kostas Smoriginas for an unexpected treat---the duet "Au Fond du Temple Saint" from Bizet's The Pearl Fishers. They took it perhaps a tad faster than I think optimal, but did a fabulous job---Groves' vocal control, and ability to do high, soft, and sweet as well as powerful and passionate was a key here, as was Smoriginas' incredibly deep, full, and powerful baritone, depth and darkness balanced by plenty of high-in-the-mask, projecting resonance that did not shade at all into brittleness.  Smoriginas is Escamillo in Santa Fe's Carmen this season; I will not hear Carmen until its last performance, but based on this duet, Smoriginas has just the voice this role needs, and should be amazing in it.  In many recordings I have of this aria, the baritone recedes a bit into the mix compared with the tenor (who is a bit more the star of this aria)---so it was great to hear the baritone part so clearly in this classic romance-meets-bromance potboiler. When the tenor and baritone united in singing the melody in sync partway through, the effect was thrilling.

At the reception I overheard Mr. Groves thanking the organizers for the opportunity to give a recital while in Santa Fe, and lamenting that while opera singers love to do recitals, there are not as many opportunities for them as there were even as recently as the 1990s, when he could do lengthy recital tours in Europe and elsewhere. Listen up, agents, impresarios, and program committees because some of us are on the lookout for the kind of intense and transporting experience of aesthetic perfection one gets from hearing a singer of the caliber of Paul Groves up close in recital.