It was back to the Piccolo Spotlight Concert Series for me this evening, with a big bonus in the form of attending this concert with my family! The welcoming environs of New Tabernacle Fourth Baptist Church proved a wonderful site for hearing the full Piccolo Spoleto Conservatory Orchestra, again under the able baton of Maestro Donald Portnoy. Hearing a full orchestra in such a space proved quite thrilling, and I’d bet that there wasn’t a bad seat (acoustically speaking…) in the house. The closeness gave everyone in the room something of an up-front view of an orchestra at its work, and the building’s height gave their sound room to breathe without a sense of being cramped.
This evening’s concert showcased the work of modern American composer Stephen Paulus, who gave the audience a bit of background about the works we were to hear prior to the concert. Paulus’ music, though thoroughly modern (and I do mean thoroughly…), finds an effortless sense of grounding in tonality. Yes, there are a few dissonances, but they are never offered just for effect, and are in no way the raison d’être like so much of avant-garde music. If I were forced to compare his work to another composer’s, I think the only person I could choose would be English composer Robert Simpson. Not because they sound anything alike at all, but because both composers draw from the complete history of music what they need, and give it their own instantly recognizable stamp. For the most part, the orchestra played this exciting music superbly. I did however (once again…) catch an occasional bit of muddiness on the part of the violins. But, on to the show!
Our first offering was the Rhapsody for Violin and Orchestra, a short work which premièred in 1996, making it the “oldest” work performed. CSO Concertmaster Yuriy Bekker handled the solo duties proving yet again how incredibly fortunate this city is to have such a talent in its midst. The work splashes into life and quickly settles into a rippled flurry from the strings as the soaring melody searches in vain for a place to land. As the full orchestra washed in on the scene, I was struck by Paulus’ simple, yet sophisticated inversions amongst the lower pitched instruments. Mr. Bekker’s tone sounded full and confident, a welcome relief; I’ve still got the harrowing desolation of Schnittke’s Quintet playing havoc with my psyche from the last time I saw him perform! There is a fluid sense of motion throughout this piece (and indeed, through all three works…) that never lets up, no matter how still or quiet the music may become. That sense may be the parallel I find with Robert Simpson, who focused on time in a (somewhat) similar fashion. Rhapsody’s melody, though occasionally sending Mr. Bekker flying around his fingerboard, mostly casted a languid arc. This was interestingly juxtaposed with the rambunctious activity of the orchestra underneath and around it. As a whole, it left me with the feeling I had been suspended over a great body of water, sometimes churning, sometimes quiet, yet always in motion.
Our second work of the evening brought the College of Charleston’s Deanna McBroom to the stage for the charged and stimulating song cycle, Erotic Spirits. Our soprano has a big voice! But its sheer size comes with an exacting precision and clarity that, coupled with her near perfect diction, is a joy to hear at work. This cycle takes ancient poetry dedicated to the celebration of…well, you know…and gives it the nod and wink of a completely new reading. The insistent rush of Eros kicked things off with rhythmic vitality. Together We Celebrate Love proved to be a particular highlight for me. It’s quiet, melancholy beginning swelled through fascinating modulations, like a soundscape of Robert Fripp’s wrapped around a mountain stream of a melody. How Sweet provided a charming, yet insistent rhythm. In Love’s Delicay, a series of gossamer filaments, I found myself focusing on the orchestra, and once again encountered Paulus’ mastery of tying together chord progressions in the bass sections. Is this the fluidity of this music? Doing a Filthy Pleasure Is, and Short kind of speaks for itself, but was sure fun to type! Goaded on by the percussion, its warning becomes a delicious relenting. I found Alone, Lonely a bit plodding in comparison to the other songs, but then, that’s kind of its point. Fireflies chattered an ever rising wedge. The closing song, Late Evening, created a sense of the sea at peace; the lover has not come, but will in dreams.
If you haven’t noticed yet, there’s been a bit of a water theme here. So, it’s appropriate that the closing work of this concert was Paulus’ Sea Portraits. Sunrise starts a while before dawn, creating an ominous melody with oriental flourishes. As day breaks, a muted, serious melody gradually gives rise to moments of gaiety whose quiet shimmers become ever more pronounced. Our marvelous cello and viola sections opened Sailing, with a spiraling race of a melody which the whole crew takes in unison until a bit of punctuation from the flutes takes us on a different tack. The wind blows, sometimes strong, sometimes quiet, but never stops. Indeed, the boat never drops anchor, it just sails off as the movement ends. Storm begins low and slow, as the clouds gather and find their strength. The angular and robust melody then charges with thrilling impact. Muted trumpets begin the closing movement, Moonlight on the Sea, and as the strings took up its sadly flowing melody, I was reminded of the Zen koan about the monkey grasping at the moon’s reflection in water. But Paulus doesn’t intend for the monkey to be trapped grasping at what can’t be grasped; boom! He looks up, and takes in the whole scene; reflection, water, and the moon itself. An effervescent and thrilling ending!
Stephen Paulus’ work is lush, durable, and wholly American. Even if you’re not a big fan of modern composers, I urge you to seek out his work. It is in the process of becoming an important addition to not only the story of American music, but also to the world.
