Music in Time’s offering this evening presented a delightfully rich and consistently excellent program of compositions from composer/accordionist Guy Klucevsek, performed by the composer. Director Kennedy’s introductory remarks to the packed auditorium culminated with the assertion that Mr. Klucevsek’s work is “expanding what ‘post-classical’ music can be.” Given the amazingly wide range of composers and musicians our intrepid accordionist has worked with, this is no idle assertion. And it is completely correct. Klucevsek’s music draws from several folk traditions that feature his instrument, a deep grounding in classical tradition, and a deep love for the music of our own time that bubbles, keens, and slides forth with the insistent nature of klezmer, yet holds time hostage in its reedy richness.
Klucevsek opened with Four Portraits, written in response to four characters from Michael Cunningham’s book, The Hours. Its rolling beauty served as a good introduction to its composer’s style. Melding classical elements with folk and pop, the keening languor of its melody contrasted nicely with the bop of triads in the bass. By his third number, any question of Klucevsek’s supreme virtuosity were laid to rest as Soft Landing’s sheets of sound covered the audience with a warm, thick tone and a melody that brought to mind Coltrane…well, if Coltrane had played the oud.
Dancing on the Volcano brought together three pieces of Eastern European music…with one by Burt Bacharach! It’s joyfully crab-like rhythm belied its complexity, sometimes bursting forth with at least four distinct parts, all coming from ten fingers and one instrument. The next work, a tribute to Ástor Piazzolla, titled Bandoneóns, Basil, and Bay Leaves, began with soft yet complex chords that modulated (as Piazzolla’s did…) through unexpected and interesting changes before hitting a true tango stride. A chord based melody then took over in the form of a blindingly fast series of arpeggios igniting the stage and taking the audience with it. As the music slowed back down and became more tender, a cell phone rang… Frankly, I’m getting sick of reporting this happening…don’t let it be you!
And then it was World Premiere time! My Walk with Ligeti, a memorial for Klucevsek’s friend György Ligeti, called forth the spirit of that master of the microtone, yet did so easily within the idiom of the accordion. Not an easy feat to write or play, but what a joy to hear…
The performance closed with its title piece, The Well-Tampered Accordion, a wonderful set made up of works taken out of their original context and placed together as a showcase of possibilities. It throbbed and bopped through pieces that ranged in sound from Bach-like toccatas to Reich-like phases with such ease, it was hard to believe that these works were not originally intended to work together. As the last part of this work softly diminished to its ending, another cell phone rang! People, please! I love my cell phone. It is very useful. When I am going to hear a musician of this caliber, I cut my cell phone OFF.
Klucevsek received a standing ovation, and another inspiring chapter of Music in Time closed.
