This
new compilation of works by the American composer Jeremy
Beck surveys a number of his pieces from the 1990s. At the
same time he also samples an earlier work just to prove -
for the record, so to speak - that Beck was committed to
tonality and a recognizable musical vernacular long before
that became the hip bandwagon it is today. Indeed, though
there are traces of Copland, Ravel, Debussy and minimalism
here, the strongest impression is that of an original voice
celebrating music. Without self-consciousness, without paralyzing
abstraction, Beck reminds us that music is movement, physically
and emotionally.
The
collection takes its title from a choral song Beck wrote
while teaching music in Russia in the early 1990s. Surprisingly,
it’s very short, just over two minutes, but clearly has significance
to the composer, who wrote the text himself. That text, inspired
by the composer’s people-watching in a St. Petersburg park,
grasps at that elusive moment between night and dawn, between
dream and wakefulness. This is the horizon that Beck’s music
is always traveling toward.
The
disc leads off with a fine performance of a string quartet
titled “Shadows & Light.” The first movement digs into
an energizing strum not unlike the cutting-edge repertory
typically played by the Kronos Quartet or even Ethel, the
amplified quartet, though Beck’s piece is all acoustic. The
second movement of the work, three times longer than the
first, starts with slow, intense music, inspired by Russian
hymnody, though without using Russian melodies or modes.
The buildup of tension breaks into a syncopated presto, recalling
a few fragments of the first movement. The choral chords
keep undercutting the faster music, with which it struggles
and intertwines, including what the program booklet identifies
as some improvisational passages. With wrenching power, the
hymn pulls the music into a remote, peaceful ending. The
piece is given a committed performance by the Nevsky String
Quartet in good studio sound.
Heather
Coltman plays the
Four Piano Pieces very effectively,
though the recorded sound is a little closer than would be
ideal. The first piece, “Prelude,” is a thoughtful structure
of questioning melody and twisting arpeggios. “Dance” is
punchy and mechanical, almost like a Conlon Nancarrow player
piano piece, though without mathematical ratio to demonstrate.
The third piece, “Meditation,” is another study of ineffables,
using suspended tones to capture an elusive state. The set
ends with a “Toccata” not much shorter than the other three
combined. The piece is a restless, glittering flight of riffs
that only stops because it has to end somewhere.
Russian
violinist Tatiana Razoumova, who was also the compelling
leader of the Nevsky Quartet in the above recording of “Shadows & Light,” returns
here to play Beck’s
Sonata No. 2 with pianist Maria
Kolaiko. The first movement is a study of emotional (not
religious) “Rapture,” captured with lyric gestures and contrasting
droll wit. Interestingly, though this was written in Iowa
after the composer returned to teach in the U.S., it is the
most Russian-sounding of the works here. The movement builds
up to a long coda. The second movement, “Reminiscence,” looks
back at the first within the context of new, brighter, much
more American-sounding material. Intentional or not, it sounds
like the composer looking back at his return from Russia
to the United States with mixed emotions. Razoumova and Kolaiko
bring the music to life.
The
eponymous choral song serves as a lodestone for these pieces,
with a searching melody underpinned by restless keyboard
patterns. The recorded sound is rather congested, putting
the chorus in close-up focus in what sounds like a small
room, though the University of Northern Iowa Concert Chorale
sings expressively.
Beck’s
Sonata for
flute and piano is the earliest work included here, dating
from 1981. Academic serialism still held sway at that point,
and I remember hearing the serialist composer Mel Powell
saying on a national radio broadcast around that time that
the battle between serialism and tonality was over and that
his camp had won for good. How arrogant and out-of-touch
that now seems, for while the giants of the academic genres
obliviously strutted about, neo-tonal composers like Beck
where springing up in a grassroots move to take back tonality.
One can certainly hear Beck staking out his claim here in
music both charming and striking, but it also lacks the clarity
and boldness of his more recent pieces, particularly “Shadows & Light.”
The
disc closes with an exhilarating percussion work, “Kopeyia” (pronounced
ko-pay-YEE-ya), which was inspired by studies of West African
drumming, and takes its name from the village in Ghana where
Beck did his studies. It presents a glorious layering of
driving rhythms with one trance-like pause for a gentle swelling
and sinking of mallet-instrument washes of sound. But while
the idea for this exhilarating piece is African, Beck brings
his Euro-American melodic sense into it, as well. The Northern
Iowa Percussion Ensemble clearly relishes this music, playing
the rhythms with tremendous snap and pressing forward as
the music builds to a thumping end.
With
the variation in recording venues, personnel and years, there
are some sonic ups-and-downs throughout this recording, but
that is to be expected for a compilation of this sort. And
were the music not so vitally enjoyable, I might carp about
the short overall timing for this disc. But the music is
well worth hearing and Innova deserves thanks for putting
another relevant voice in front of the public eye.
Mark Sebastian Jordan
Also reviewed on Musicweb by Jeremy Beck on Innova:
Pause and
Feel and Hark