John ADAMS (b. 1947)
Absolute Jest (2013) [25:40]
Grand Pianola Music (1982) [31:54]
St Lawrence String Quartet
Orli Shaham, Marc-André Hamelin (pianos)
Synergy Vocals
San Francisco Symphony/Michael Tilson Thomas, John Adams
rec. live, 2013/15, Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco
SFS MEDIA SFS0063 [57:34]
In March 2014 I reviewed
for MusicWeb International Seen and Heard a concert in Symphony Hall, Birmingham
by Michael Tilson Thomas and the San Francisco Symphony. This was the opening
concert in a European tour and Absolute Jest was on the programme.
I enjoyed that performance very much so I was delighted that this SACD offers
the chance to listen to it again in detail and at greater leisure.
The piece was written for the centenary of the San Francisco Symphony which
fell in 2011. Subsequently Adams drastically revised the opening section of
the score and it’s this 2013 definitive version that is played here.
In a booklet note Adams describes Absolute Jest as “a colossal
twenty-five minute scherzo in which I take fragments of Beethoven’s
music and subject them to my own peculiar development techniques.” The
Beethoven works that Adams has raided are mostly the Sting Quartets Opp, 131
and 135 as well as the Grosse Fugue. He also throws in a number of
references to Beethoven’s symphonies, notably the first movement of
the Seventh Symphony and the scherzo of the Ninth. Since I’m less familiar
with the string quartets than with the symphonies it’s the symphonic
allusions that I registered most strongly.
Absolute Jest is scored for string quartet and a large symphony orchestra.
On this recording, as in Birmingham, it’s the St Lawrence String Quartet
who do the honours. In Birmingham they were discreetly amplified – a
very necessary step to prevent their sound being drowned by the orchestra.
No such problems arise on disc, of course, and the quartet is nicely in the
foreground, which is right and proper.
The notes accompanying this disc make a very interesting point, which was
not covered, so far as I recall, in the Birmingham concert programme note.
Larry Rothe, the author of an excellent history of the San Francisco Symphony,
points out that the word “jest” derives from the Latin word gesta,
meaning a noble deed. He says: “A jest is not therefore by definition
a thigh-slapper, nor is Absolute Jest a comedy.” That’s
a most interesting insight and it explains why Michael Tilson Thomas has described
the score as one of the composer’s most profound. Nonetheless, having
reacquainted myself with the piece I think I’d stand by the verdict
that I reached last year: “what struck me on a first hearing –
and this is not to suggest a lack of profundity – was how entertaining
and witty the score was: it is well entitled ‘Jest’. Much of the
music is high-spirited and full of vitality and at times it is clearly rhythmically
intricate, as one could tell from MTT’s beat.” However, I now
better appreciate the serious – or should I say thoughtful – side
of the piece.
In the extended opening section there is constant energy and forward momentum.
A good deal is made of the 6/8 rhythm that one hears in the first movement
Allegro of Beethoven’s Seventh. Though rhythmic propulsion
is the first feature to strike the listener I have now been able to discern
more lyricism and also the sheer intricacy of the writing than was apparent
to me in Birmingham on first hearing the music. The piece is in six sections
and it’s not until we reach section 4, Meno mosso, some fifteen
minutes after the start, that the pace eases. This section begins with quiet
musing from the quartet against a subdued, shimmering orchestral background.
Are we to take this as the scherzo’s trio, I wonder? The section is
a welcome and necessary chance to catch one’s breath after all the preceding
activity. However, the respite doesn’t last long; as soon as 2:10 into
the section the pace starts to pick up again and gradually the music accelerates
excitingly into the Vivacissimo section. By now I had almost forgotten
that the piece is inspired by Beethovenian fragments but small thematic cells
continue to pop up in the texture. In the last section, Prestissimo,
the string quartet, in Adams’ words, is “furiously riffing over
the opening chord progression of the Waldstein Sonata.” The
music is breathless and joyous but Adams has one more surprise up his sleeve.
You might expect a fast and furious ending; instead Adams cuts off the quartet
and full orchestra and the last word – a quiet one – is provided
by a deliberately mis-tuned piano and harp.
After listening to the Birmingham performance I wrote this: “What struck
me forcefully as I listened was how well matched, how complementary, are Adams’
and Beethoven’s music in the sense that both make such a virtue of the
use of rhythm to impel their music. It seems so obvious that I don’t
know why I’ve not previously made the connection but the juxtaposition
of the two composers in Absolute Jest brought it home very strongly.”
I would now add to that verdict that the work is an exciting and very superior
entertainment. The performance by the often hyper-active St Lawrence String
Quartet and by Tilson Thomas and his fine orchestra is razor-sharp and, I
would suggest, definitive. This is an important Adams work and a major addition
to his extensive discography.
Grand Pianola Music is a much earlier work; in fact it is a score
that owes a lot to his minimalist beginnings. It’s a piece that has
attracted scorn in some quarters – unfairly, I believe – not least
on account of the unashamedly corny Big Tune in the last of its three sections.
It’s much more modestly scored; double woodwind and brass, tuba, percussion,
including two bass drums, two grand pianos and three female singers. These
singers make a crucial contribution to the textures, singing wordlessly; Adams
calls them “sirens”. The members of Synergy Vocals make a wonderful
contribution to this performance.
This is not the first time that the composer has recorded the piece; he set
down a studio recording in 1993 with the London Sinfonietta (Electra Nonesuch
7559 79219-2). Writing in the booklet that accompanies that disc Adams says
that he wrote Grand Pianola Music “not to épater les bourgeoisie,
but rather for the sheer pleasure of hearing certain musical “signals”
– one could even call them clichés – piled up against one another.”
I don’t believe the work is profound but it is intricate and intriguing;
it’s also a lot of fun.
Opening with gentle minimalist “chugging”, the first section is
initially quite soothing but as it unfolds you sense purpose too – and
momentum. Gradually the music grows in intensity until the heavy brass join
in (7:06). The music is now both louder and edgier and the piano writing presages
what we’ll hear in the third section. As the music recedes into gentleness
again (around 11:14) the singers do indeed sound siren-like. The second section
follows without a break. Most of this section features quiet, calm and consonant
music though there is one sudden and strident loud section (at 2:10). Once
that’s past the music calms down again, in Adams’ delightful description
“ending up in a slow, serene pasture with a grazing tuba.”
Initially the third movement, in Adams’ words “rocks back and
forth between tonic and dominant” until (at 1:30) it arrives grandly
and unambiguously in the major key, paving the way for That Tune
(2:36). This tune is deliberately corny, as is Adams’ treatment of it,
but any composer who can entitle the last movement of a Chamber Symphony ‘Roadrunner’
has to have a keen sense of irony and humour. But forget about the corny nature
of the tune; the construction of the music is fascinating and often intricate.
I really enjoyed this performance – and what luxury casting to have
Marc-André Hamelin as one of the pianists.
I said Adams had recorded this piece before. That 1993 rendition benefits
from the customary virtuosity of the London Sinfonietta, who are by no means
shaded by the excellent San Francisco players. The recording itself still
sounds well but it’s not as vivid as the new SFS Media version and on
the old recording the piano sound is a bit harsh and tinkling at the treble
end.
The SFS Media recording of both pieces is very truthful; the sound has great
impact. Though both performances are live the audience is silent; there’s
applause only after Grand Pianola Music. The playing time is rather
ungenerous but the value lies in the music and the performances.
This is a cracking disc and all Adams devotees will want it.
John
Quinn
Previous review:
Michael Cookson (Recording of the Month)
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