I sat down to type up this review late on the evening of Tuesday 
                1 June 2010. Halfway through doing so, wanting to check a date, 
                I went to the 
website 
                devoted to Benjamin Lees, where I was faced with the following 
                announcement: “IT IS WITH PROFOUND SADNESS THAT THE FAMILY 
                ANNOUNCES THE PASSING OF COMPOSER BENJAMIN LEES ON MAY 31, 2010”. 
                This review - written on the day after the composer’s death 
                - necessarily becomes more of a memorial than I intended it to 
                be when I sat down to put it together. 
                  
                Lees was born in China, brought up and educated in California. 
                From 1949 to 1954 he studied with George Antheil who acted as 
                a largely unpaid tutor out of respect for Lees’ abilities. 
                From the mid-1950s onwards his works began to be performed quite 
                widely and by distinguished performers, without his ever perhaps 
                becoming a ‘major’ figure in American music. A Guggenheim 
                fellowship enabled him to spend much of his time in Europe in 
                the second half of the 1950s. Never a composer who aspired to 
                be thought of as especially ‘American’, these European 
                years were important for Lees, years when he could evolve his 
                own voice without direct involvement in the style wars of American 
                music. Prokofiev, Bartók and Shostakovich became important 
                exemplars for Lees. 
                  
                In a 
1987 
                interview with Bruce Duffie, when the interviewer enquired 
                “in a great number of your own works, you have used the 
                traditional approach - Slonimsky calls it accessibility - which 
                makes your music attractive to conductors and soloists.  
                Is this something you have consciously built in to your pieces, 
                or is this an outgrowth of what you wanted to write innately?”, 
                Lees answered as follows: “The accessibility, I suppose, 
                comes from something that George Antheil told me when I was studying 
                with him.  He put it very succinctly, and it was one of those 
                catch words which stuck in the memory.  He said, “Music 
                must have a face.  A theme must have a face, something which 
                is really recognizable, both to you and to the listener.”  
                And again, it matters not what style a person writes in, but it 
                cannot simply be amorphous.  It cannot be really formless 
                and it cannot be merely notes spinning”. Certainly Lees’ 
                music never seeks to exclude listeners, or to make their life 
                needlessly difficult by the flaunting of the composer’s 
                ‘cleverness’. Nor, on the other hand, does he write 
                down, or write to please some lowest common denominator of taste 
                and demand. Like any substantial composer, Lees seems always to 
                have been true to himself, to have been serenely unworried, so 
                far as one can judge, by matters of mere fashion or popularity. 
                Honesty, indeed, has always struck me as one of the hallmarks 
                of his work, a directness of communication. It seems appropriate 
                that he should once have said that “there are two kinds 
                of composers. One is the intellectual and the other is visceral. 
                I fall into the latter category. If my stomach doesn’t tighten 
                at an idea, then it’s not the right idea.” 
                  
                Most attention - and perhaps rightly so - has been paid to Lees’ 
                orchestral works, not least his five symphonies. But, as this 
                disc demonstrates well and clearly, he also had plenty to say 
                in that other ‘classical’ form - the string quartet, 
                of which he wrote six. This rewarding Naxos disc contains three 
                of them in fine performances by the Cypress Quartet, for whom 
                the fifth and the sixth were written. 
                  
                The Cypress Quartet begin their programme with Lees’ first 
                quartet, written in 1952, and premiered the following year in 
                Los Angles - and in 1954 played in New York by the Budapest Quartet. 
                In three movements (moderato-adagietto-allegro vivo) it has an 
                appealing grace, at its most obvious in the adagietto, a lovely 
                moment that exudes a simplicity - created by considerable art 
                - and only slightly troubled lyricism that has a more or less 
                pastoral quality. In the movement that precedes it some crisp 
                and dynamic writing alternates with more reflective passages. 
                In the last movement - essentially a rondo - the writing is engagingly 
                animated, seeming to speak out of a mind full of ideas and eagerness. 
                A quartet well worth hearing - especially when so well performed 
                - but not yet fully embodying the composer’s mature voice. 
                
                  
                The two ‘late’ quartets give us that voice in abundance. 
                The four movements of the fifth quartet (measured - arioso - quick, 
                quiet - explosive) form a musical argument of considerable density, 
                marked both by striking moments and a sense of larger design. 
                The writing for cello at the opening of the first movement, and 
                the ensuing dialogue with the other instruments is one of those 
                striking moments. Another comes in the second movement when an 
                aggressive intervention by the cello disrupts the meditative conversation 
                of the two violins. The more one listens, the more such moments 
                one discovers. The third movement is a miniature delight (it lasts 
                less than two minutes), music of evanescent beauty. The contrast 
                with the fourth movement could hardly be more marked - full as 
                it is of musical contention and turbulence, of assertion and annoyed 
                counter-assertion, a conflict not so much resolved as serving 
                to fuel a still angry ending. 
                  
                Where the sixth quartet is concerned the composer’s markings 
                for its four movements say most of what the mere reviewer might 
                want to say about the work: “measured, dolorous - calm, 
                steady - quiet, eerie - unhurried”. And they are! The use 
                pizzicato passages is a particular feature of this quartet - notably 
                at moments in the first and third movements. Without any wilful 
                oddity or eccentricity, Lees creates some fresh and interesting 
                effects at more than one point in this quartet. To say that one 
                can ‘hear’ his respect for Bartók and Shostakovich 
                is not, repeat not, to belittle his work as derivative. It is 
                merely to recognise that, like 99% (or more!) of all artists, 
                Lees was not a toweringly inventive figure. He was a highly accomplished 
                craftsman who had listened to, and learned from, the music of 
                the past and the present; a composer who refused to be merely 
                modish or to chase the fashionable at the cost of fidelity to 
                what he 
felt to be right for him. 
                  
                It is, I hope, timely to celebrate Lees’ achievement, immediately 
                after his death. Not a composer of spectacular fame, he worked 
                with a seriousness and truth that some more famous fall short 
                of. 
                  
                
Glyn Pursglove  
                  
                Other Lees reviews on MWI 
                http://www.musicweb-international.com/classRev/2003/Sept03/American_Concertos.htm 
                
                  
                http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2008/Sept08/Bloch_Lees_ar00422.htm 
                
                  
                http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2008/July08/Bloch_Lees_ar00422.htm 
                
                  
                http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2000/jan00/lees.htm 
                
                  
                http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2000/mar00/lees.htm 
                
                  
                http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2008/June08/Lees_TOCC0069.htm 
                
                  
                http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2003/Aug03/lees_symphonies.htm 
                
                  
                http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2003/Sept03/Lees_Balada_Zwilich.htm 
                
                  
                http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2003/Sept03/Lees_Hobson.htm 
                
                  
                http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2003/Sept03/bishop_shawn.htm