Carmen arcadiae mechanicae
perpetuum (1977-78)
Silbury Air (1977)
Theseus Game
for large ensemble with 2 conductors (United
States premiere) (2002)
Alarm Will Sound
Alan Pierson, conductor
Music In Action
Christine Myers, conductor
On an
icy, blizzard-ridden night in Manhattan, Alarm
Will Sound considerably raised the temperature
inside Miller Theatre with a fiery tribute
to Sir Harrison Birtwistle, whose throbbing
rhythms seem ideally suited for the group’s
energy. Its kinetically engaging conductor,
Alan Pierson, led the first two scores from
memory, with precise, clearly articulated
downbeats that could serve as a model for
aspiring conductors.
Carmen
arcadiae (the title a tribute to Paul
Klee) is formed from "six mechanisms
which are juxtaposed many times without any
form of transition," and like much of
Birtwistle’s music, explores carefully conceived
rhythmic patterns that rub up against each
other in nervous marriages. If Klee is the
muse, the piece might be viewed as his painting,
"The Twittering Machine," gone utterly
out of control. As the work’s ruthless momentum
kicked into high gear, the musicians seemed
almost delighted in the effect, playing with
the work’s jostling chunks of sound.
Contrary
to its pastoral-sounding title, Silbury
Air seems more like a menacing nightmare.
The title refers to Silbury Hill, a mysterious,
prehistoric five-acre mound in Wiltshire,
and the music displays a similar sober, inscrutable
quality. After a softly oscillating beginning,
the ritualistic mood begins to set in, with
constantly shifting tempi making an uneasy,
ever-changing landscape. The piece ends with
four stark harp chords, here played with stinging
authority by Bridget Kibbey.
The
word "labyrinth" is often used in
describing Birtwistle’s work, and it’s an
apt one. Just as if one were lost in a real-life
maze, it’s difficult to perceive the whole
of Theseus Game after a single hearing,
but its craft and deception are compelling.
Even though it was written twenty-five years
after the two works on first half of the program,
it seems to be engulfed by rhythms that eventually
overtake the persons presenting it.
Here
the musicians were aligned in rows, creating
a block directly facing the audience (think
Greek chorus), with the two conductors at
far right and far left, and two music stands
at center stage. The players of the main ensemble
follow each of the two conductors, as indicated
in their score.
The
intriguing conceit is that individual musicians
emerge to carry the melodic line (Theseus’
thread), and in this case, periodically walked
up to the front for their solo turns. The
spirited Alarm Will Sound musicians were augmented
by a dedicated, talented crew of players from
Music In Action, a program of the Manhattan
School of Music. If nothing else -- and the
evening had much more to offer -- it was simply
heartening to see music of such complexity
tackled with such confidence and aplomb by
young performers. Kudos to their conductor,
Christine Myers, who collaborated with Pierson
in making the 35-minute work hang together.
For all the dire comments on the state of
classical music, evenings like this one made
me feel optimistic and enthusiastic about
the possibility of another virtuoso display
of Birtwistle in say, another hundred years
or so.
This
forward-thinking group probably discourages
singling out musicians, but in this performance
I can’t help but mention violinist Courtney
Orlando, Jacqueline Leclair on oboe, and the
enthusiastic percussionists Payton MacDonald,
Jason Treuting and Lawson White. Seth Brodsky’s
imaginative program notes included an 1862
depiction of Theseus and the Minotaur by John
Williams Waterhouse, Birtwistle’s diagram
of the "pulse labyrinth" used in
Silbury Air, and an interview with
the composer structured as a kind of parallel
universe to the performance, mirroring his
gorgeous structures.
Bruce Hodges
http://www.alarmwillsound.com/