GlassReichBryars
Mar. 21st, 2010 17:42![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starladySo two weeks ago I went to see a performance of pieces by Philip Glass, Steve Reichs and Gavin Bryars at the Annenberg Center in Philly. I never really grasped that the Annenberg existed until this year, which is too bad, or Orchestra 2001, which joined Relâche and the Philadelphia Singers for the Reichs piece, but they are all pretty cool.
The entire program consisted of premieres--Philadelphia in the cases of the Reichs and the Bryars, and world in the case of the Glass. The Bryars piece consisted of two laude (songs) from his Cycle Lauda Cortonese, for solo female chorus. Let me just say, the ladies of the Philadelphia Singers are really, really good. I went to a college well-known for its music program, which had the side effect of making me a horrible snob about such things as quality of performance and whether the audience knows not to clap between movements and is too undiscerning with standing ovations, but all three of the ensembles were just really good. I particularly liked Relâche, but I thought Orchestra 2001, who only play contemporary music and who all wore a crimson accessory of some kind during their performance, were also great.
So, I liked the laude a lot, though I'm no connoisseur of vocal music. I also really, really liked the Steve Reichs, which was his You Are (Variations). It was interesting to me to compare the Reichs with the Glass, since both of them are very much the sort of contemporary music that people who don't like contemporary music point to as first example of why. I don't know; in some ways the recent trend in contemporary music to revisit tonality annoys me (Philadelphia composer Jennifer Higdon being the first person I can think of off the top of my head); it almost seems like a retreat. On the other hand, as all three pieces and particularly the Bryars showed, you can do some amazing things with tonality, especially when it's decoupled from traditional ideas about development. Anyway, the Reichs: continuous variations on a theme, with the chorus singing text and the orchestra playing various instruments including marimbas.
Really, though, I went for the Glass piece, Persephone. I had no expectations beyond the fact that it would sound like Glass, and it did, and I was happy, though for me it didn't quite match up to his Tirol Piano Concerto. I should explain that I hated Glass until I literally had a conversion experience at the American premiere of that piece; it nearly brought me to tears, which never happens, and I have loved Glass ever since. I don't think Persephone is earth-shaking by any means, and there's an extent to which Glass, like Notting Hill in Chesterton's novel, has created his own supplanters, such that his music is beginning to sound a little…familiar. (And his composing for movies is certainly part of that.) Still, though, it was great; the orchestra in particular is reduced to half-strength, so that the piece is almost a duet between the chorus and the orchestra, with the chorus typically taking the lead even though they're only singing wordless syllables. It was interesting to compare the Reichs and the Glass; the Glass piece had that characteristic driving rhythm in the lower parts, while the Reichs had more of a sense of motion toward a place rather than in place, almost; I think that's partially because the chorus in Reichs was singing meaningful phrases, and the music was naturally structured around that. Anyway, I really should have taken notes while I was listening, as I used to do in college; I did have fun, though, eavesdropping on what people were saying in the lobby about the Glass afterwards, ranging from "wonderful" to "hackneyed" and "trite." Everyone seemed to agree that the interplay between chorus and orchestra was superb, and the best part of Persephone, I'd have to agree.
Also, dear Annenberg Center, WTF was with the lack of program notes about these pieces, it was very frustrating, particularly given the attention paid to the music on the programs of future shows.
The entire program consisted of premieres--Philadelphia in the cases of the Reichs and the Bryars, and world in the case of the Glass. The Bryars piece consisted of two laude (songs) from his Cycle Lauda Cortonese, for solo female chorus. Let me just say, the ladies of the Philadelphia Singers are really, really good. I went to a college well-known for its music program, which had the side effect of making me a horrible snob about such things as quality of performance and whether the audience knows not to clap between movements and is too undiscerning with standing ovations, but all three of the ensembles were just really good. I particularly liked Relâche, but I thought Orchestra 2001, who only play contemporary music and who all wore a crimson accessory of some kind during their performance, were also great.
So, I liked the laude a lot, though I'm no connoisseur of vocal music. I also really, really liked the Steve Reichs, which was his You Are (Variations). It was interesting to me to compare the Reichs with the Glass, since both of them are very much the sort of contemporary music that people who don't like contemporary music point to as first example of why. I don't know; in some ways the recent trend in contemporary music to revisit tonality annoys me (Philadelphia composer Jennifer Higdon being the first person I can think of off the top of my head); it almost seems like a retreat. On the other hand, as all three pieces and particularly the Bryars showed, you can do some amazing things with tonality, especially when it's decoupled from traditional ideas about development. Anyway, the Reichs: continuous variations on a theme, with the chorus singing text and the orchestra playing various instruments including marimbas.
Really, though, I went for the Glass piece, Persephone. I had no expectations beyond the fact that it would sound like Glass, and it did, and I was happy, though for me it didn't quite match up to his Tirol Piano Concerto. I should explain that I hated Glass until I literally had a conversion experience at the American premiere of that piece; it nearly brought me to tears, which never happens, and I have loved Glass ever since. I don't think Persephone is earth-shaking by any means, and there's an extent to which Glass, like Notting Hill in Chesterton's novel, has created his own supplanters, such that his music is beginning to sound a little…familiar. (And his composing for movies is certainly part of that.) Still, though, it was great; the orchestra in particular is reduced to half-strength, so that the piece is almost a duet between the chorus and the orchestra, with the chorus typically taking the lead even though they're only singing wordless syllables. It was interesting to compare the Reichs and the Glass; the Glass piece had that characteristic driving rhythm in the lower parts, while the Reichs had more of a sense of motion toward a place rather than in place, almost; I think that's partially because the chorus in Reichs was singing meaningful phrases, and the music was naturally structured around that. Anyway, I really should have taken notes while I was listening, as I used to do in college; I did have fun, though, eavesdropping on what people were saying in the lobby about the Glass afterwards, ranging from "wonderful" to "hackneyed" and "trite." Everyone seemed to agree that the interplay between chorus and orchestra was superb, and the best part of Persephone, I'd have to agree.
Also, dear Annenberg Center, WTF was with the lack of program notes about these pieces, it was very frustrating, particularly given the attention paid to the music on the programs of future shows.