The première of Jones's
Tuba Concerto was broadcast
on Seattle's KING–FM radio station. I took a recording
of the piece at that time, so when this CD arrived I already
had some knowledge of the work. It's a very strong piece,
imbued with a warm lyricism, full orchestrations and some
unusual twists and turns along the way. Commissioned in
memory of her husband – aeronautical engineer and amateur
tubist, James P Crowder – the piece is more celebration
than memorial and even though there is a desolation about
the end of the slow movement, the music is still full of
questing, forward-looking, gestures. The finale seeks to
emulate in music a wind tunnel – Crowder's specialisation
was in wind visualization, making it possible to see the
motion of air as it flows over solid objects at high speed – where
the engine starts up, gains momentum then, once at top
speed, the tuba unleashes a
moto perpetuo, intercut
with more reflective passages. At 23 minutes it's about
as long as a Concerto for this instrument could be, indeed,
the finale could benefit from a little pruning to make
it more interesting, for, whilst Jones writes that, "the
tuba has amazing range, agility and versatility, and in
the hands of a master performer it can command the stage
on an equal footing with any instrument" I cannot
agree about the range of the instrument as one which can
hold the stage over a period of time. For me, the best
example of "concerted" music for solo tuba is
still the late, great, Wally Stott/Angela Morley's theme
music for the BBC radio sitcom
Hancock's Half Hour.
But this is a worthy effort and much of the music is very
enjoyable, and Jones is a composer whose work we cannot
afford to miss, so I must not, and indeed cannot, be overly
critical.
The
Symphony is an altogether different
prospect. Perhaps being removed from the constraints of
writing for a virtuoso soloist and being allowed to let
his imagination run free this work shows the better, and
more interesting and imaginative, side of Jones the composer.
In one continuous movement, in four sections, this is real
symphonic music. Starting with the pre–recorded sound of
blowing wind, the orchestra gradually enters in a kind
of Sibelian forward rush of semiquavers before we're into
Jones's own American language. This is very powerful stuff
indeed, brilliantly constructed, superbly orchestrated,
thrillingly compelling. Jones builds a big climax at the
end of this most exciting and invigorating opening section – big
music, exactly the kind of thing I would expect from a
pupil of Howard Hanson, a composer who certainly knew how
to build climaxes – which is followed by a pastoral slow
movement, very American, very tuneful. A wild scherzo,
again brilliantly orchestrated, comes next, taking the
place of the sonata form development section; here we're
partly in the west but we're equally at home in urban conurbations.
Another big climax – Jones can really handle his material
well – and the work ends in the most beautiful Ivesian
transcendentalism.
Whilst the
Concerto is a fine work it is
the
Symphony to which you will return for it has
much more to give and is a more complete, and completed,
work. The performances are excellent, Schwarz leading strong
performances and the orchestra responding with fire and
passion. The recording is one of Naxos's best – the Benaroya
Hall has the most stunning acoustic – giving a good concert
hall perspective on the big orchestra. With good notes
this is an absolute must for anyone with an interest in
what is happening in contemporary composition, or just
wants a truly satisfying listen to some strong, and enjoyable,
contemporary music.
Bob Briggs
And a further perspective from Rob Barnett
...
Samuel
Jones was a pupil of Howard Hanson at the Eastman School.
He has been composer-in-residence at Seattle since 1997.
Amongst the works he has written for Gerard Schwarz's orchestra
is
Janus (1997) and a Horn Concerto (2008); the
latter presumably for that outstanding hornist John Cerminaro,
the Seattle principal.
The
two works here are of about the same duration and together
make for modest LP-type playing time at best - but this
is at
Naxos price. A pity we could not also have had the other
two Seattle works. Enough!
The
creativity of this composer is expressed through an accessible
tonal idiom. His language is only slightly inflected with
the conventions of lyrical Americana. Equally there's no
obvious jazz insurgency.
The
Tuba
Concerto is not one of those melodically vapid display
concertante pieces. Jones puts Olka through his instrumental
paces at every level. Of sharply etched inventive substance,
it just happens to be a Tuba Concerto. It moves from
Herrmann-style aggression to the sleekly singing
Andante into
adagietto with
its deeply satisfying concluding ‘purr’. Jones can sometimes
sound like a mix of Malcolm Arnold and Vaughan Williams,
the latter of whom also wrote a strong concerto for the
instrument although without the grave mien of the Jones.
The Concerto was written in memory of wind tunnel engineer
James P Crowder - also an amateur tuba player - and was
commissioned by his widow.
The
single movement
Third Symphony is based on the impressions
of the Palo Duro Canyon, twenty miles south of Amarillo,
Texas. It was premiered by the Amarillo Symphony. It operates
at various levels including catching something of the epic
scale of the Canyon and its native Indian heritage. At
11.10 we encounter a great singing theme. A rippling melodic
lilt is followed by discreet woodwind sent spinning among
the orchestra with its evocation of stern statuesque pillars.
The work rises to epic Hansonian statements with Sibelian
cross-currents as in the string shimmer at 21:01. One
can feel climaxes built and evoked rather than unleashed
explicitly. This has a familiar yet fresh manner which
is in part redolent of the Hanson Sixth Symphony - 19:02
onwards. The symphony ends in a discreetly gentle bell
carillon veering down into silence.
The
recording is full of directional stimulation, good signal
spread and ear-tingling detail.
I
won't be avoiding further contact with Samuel Jones’ music
- quite the contrary.
Rob Barnett
Naxos American Classics page
Christopher
Olka (tuba) 
