Week Two: Art & Soul
Saturday, July 14th - White Recital Hall
Sunday, July 15th - St. Mary's Episcopal Church
Richard Lavenda: Chiaroscuro
Michael Gordon, Joshua Hood, Richard Ryan, Garret Arney
Eric Sammut: Zapping Trio
Jane Carl, Richard Ryan, Garret Arney
Daniel Kellogg: Divinum Mysterium
Michael Gordon, Jane Carl, Kristin Velicer, Maria Crosby, Hsing-ay Hsu, Garret Arney
Saturday, July 14th - White Recital Hall
Sunday, July 15th - St. Mary's Episcopal Church
Richard Lavenda: Chiaroscuro
Michael Gordon, Joshua Hood, Richard Ryan, Garret Arney
Eric Sammut: Zapping Trio
Jane Carl, Richard Ryan, Garret Arney
Daniel Kellogg: Divinum Mysterium
Michael Gordon, Jane Carl, Kristin Velicer, Maria Crosby, Hsing-ay Hsu, Garret Arney
Program Notes:
Program Notes by Andrew Granade
Richard Lavenda: Chiaroscuro
As we open our week on the “Art and Soul of Chamber Music,” it seems fitting that we spend this week hearing composers who might not be familiar to you. Unlike the larger forms of classical music like the symphony and opera which focus on the “great masters” of the classical canon, chamber music has long been a form open to new composers and new sounds. As a result, chamber music audiences seem to enjoy experimenting and trying new composers, finding new favorites in the process. Richard Lavenda might be that new favorite for you after tonight, as his music appeals to a variety of listeners because he combines his background in jazz and rock (which results in the rhythmic energy common to his music) with a contrapuntal melodic sense derived from his classical training. He is currently Professor of Composition and Theory at Rice University where he has taught since 1987.
Chiaroscuro certainly displays the inventiveness and restless experimentation at the heart of chamber music in its unusual instrumental grouping of alto flute, bassoon, vibraphone, and doublebass. Lavenda wrote the work for Benjamin Kamins, principle bassoonist for the Houston Symphony for two decades and now a professor colleague of Lavenda’s at Rice. When he set out to write the piece, Lavenda asked Kamins what he would like to play. Kamins had one request: that “after years of being an orchestral bassoonist…the other instruments not drown him out.” Lavenda treats the four instruments as equals, blending unusual but beautiful colors from a variety of combinations of texture and register and allowing each instrument to take the lead through the work’s ten-minute duration. As Lavenda explained, “Chiaroscuro explores many of the timbral and textural combinations afforded me by the unusual ensemble we created. The alternating fast and slow sections differ in affect and character, and while I would hesitate to label either as the light or the dark areas that define the painting style that gives the piece its title, there certainly are audible shadowings, blurred borders, and complementarities.”
Eric Sammut: Zapping Trio
We live in an age of specialization where people are expected to identify their passions early and then live their lives beholden to that childhood interest. I have elementary-aged children and constantly hear that if I don’t get them in (insert sport or art form here) at a young age, they won’t be able to (compete or perform) when they are teenagers. Learn coding at age 8, start violin at age 6, become a soccer star at age 4. The era of specialization is especially true when it comes to the art of chamber music. We have composers in one corner and performers in the other. One creates the music on the page and the other realizes it in performance. Unlike in earlier eras, when performers were composers and composers were also performers, the twain shall never meet in 2018.
Perhaps that’s why I’m so intrigued by the composer of the Zapping Trio, Eric Sammut. Sammut began studying piano as a child and, according to our modern traditions, should have continued on to become a pianist. But as a teenager, he discovered percussion and attended the Conservatoire supérieur de musique de Lyon, becoming a professional percussionist. His first major position was as the principal percussionist at the Orchestre de l’Opera National de Lyon, where he discovered a love of the marimba, ultimately winning the Leigh Howard Stevens International Marimba Composition in 1995. He now was a marimba specialist, touring and performing and winning the principal percussionist job at the Orchestre de Paris and the marimba instructor position at the Paris Conservatoire. However, Sammut enjoyed improvisation and jazz and Bach and Edith Piaf and couldn’t find music to fit his interests. So he began composing, becoming recognized around the world for his marimba solos and chamber music featuring the marimba as much as for his performing. He broke out of the specialist mold by keeping his ears open to new influences and then passing on his changing passions to his audiences.
Zapping Trio demonstrates Sammut’s embracing the openness that lies at the heart of chamber music in its instrumentation and style. Sammut wrote the work for the unusual combination of marimba, clarinet, and bass and then asked those musicians to play like a small jazz combo. The work opens with an improvisatory marimba solo before launching into a marimba groove. About a minute into the work, the clarinet and bass begin their own improvisatory section before settling into a 1920s Tin Pan Alley-era style. After this dual introduction, the marimba and clarinet move into an extended duet, swapping the melody between them, each playing in a complementary style with the bass acting as their rhythm section. Following a lyrical middle section, the opening groove returns, this time reimagined as a 1950s-era popular song – you can almost hear Jacques Brel or Edith Piaf singing this delightful trio to a close.
Daniel Kellogg: Divinum Mysterium
This second week of Summerfest is full of living composers, showing what is truly foundational to the art and soul of chamber music – that it is a living, breathing, transforming art that is more vital today than at any time in history. Modern composers love the flexibility of timbres available to them in chamber music versus established large ensembles, and the variety of styles they can play with in their compositions. So from the shadings of dark and light in Chiaroscuro and the jazzy grooves of the Zapping Trio we come to the more esoteric and atmospheric pleasures Divinum Mysterium.
As with Richard Lavenda and Eric Sammut, Daniel Kellogg is probably a new composer to you. After completing composition degrees at Yale University, Kellogg began teaching at the University of Colorado, and since taking that position, he has steadily been accumulating awards and recognition from major groups around the United States for his stylistic diversity, formal rigor, and heartfelt emotional connection. His work Divinum Mysterium, the result of a commission from eighth blackbird, ably demonstrates these facets of his music and has become one of his most-performed compositions. Kellogg decided he wanted the work to retell the world’s creation as found in the book of Genesis using the tune “Of the Father’s Love Begotten” as a melodic anchor. Here’s how he describes the work’s genesis:
“The opening verses of John’s Gospel and the several that follow are among my favorite passages of scripture. John writes that not only was the world created through Christ, but Christ is also the light that will overcome the darkness by restoring the creation. This was the plan from before there was existence: it is circular, beautiful, and offers complete hope. We humans are not in fact a cosmic accident but are the result of the greatest work of art (the creation), by the greatest artist (Christ). We are not alone, but in fact are loved.
This piece is a personal response to the overwhelming beauty of the creation and the magnificent forces that were involved in its beginnings. I am moved to capture glimpses of this story in music. I wanted to dwell on God’s terrifying presence and power, His Light that is all glorious, His compassion and love, and the response of rejoicing.”
“Divinum Mysterium is the name of a text by Prudentius that was translated and set as a hymn called “Of the Father’s Love Begotten.” Singing this hymn each Advent season in our family’s church is one of the most beautiful and striking experiences in my musical memory. It was unlike any other musical experience I knew: we sang it in unison and without accompaniment except for tonic bell tones between the phrases. I felt connected to the people of ancient times who used it to express their praise, and yet it felt vibrant and contemporary. It remains my favorite hymn.”
“When I set out to write a piece about the creation this melody came to mind as the perfect vehicle to represent my Christian understanding of the creation. This melody is sung at the beginning of the piece, played by piano and cello at the end, and woven throughout each movement.”
“Evermore and evermore.”
The five-movement work begins with a statement of the hymn, followed by the chaos of creation represented by disconnected melodic lines that flow among the instruments. The second movement opens with the pulsing stillness of the world covered with water until God enters this darkness in a haunting flute melody that hovers over the dissonant clusters and arpeggiation of the rest of the ensemble. The movement ends with the flute speaking creation into being, leading into the third movement, “Light.” The energy and clear diatonicism of this movement combines with its high range and rhythmic groove to celebrate the creative spirit. After this outpouring, it is necessary to “Rest” with a lyrical, long-lined movement featuring the string instruments. The final movement is full of “Rejoicing” for this act of creation, starting with a beautiful rendition of “Of the Father’s Love Begotten” that is constantly interrupted by startling outburst, as though no one on stage can help but shout about the glory of what surrounds them. Hopefully this piece will send you out into the world with a fresh appreciation of the beauty, the soul of the world around you.
Richard Lavenda: Chiaroscuro
As we open our week on the “Art and Soul of Chamber Music,” it seems fitting that we spend this week hearing composers who might not be familiar to you. Unlike the larger forms of classical music like the symphony and opera which focus on the “great masters” of the classical canon, chamber music has long been a form open to new composers and new sounds. As a result, chamber music audiences seem to enjoy experimenting and trying new composers, finding new favorites in the process. Richard Lavenda might be that new favorite for you after tonight, as his music appeals to a variety of listeners because he combines his background in jazz and rock (which results in the rhythmic energy common to his music) with a contrapuntal melodic sense derived from his classical training. He is currently Professor of Composition and Theory at Rice University where he has taught since 1987.
Chiaroscuro certainly displays the inventiveness and restless experimentation at the heart of chamber music in its unusual instrumental grouping of alto flute, bassoon, vibraphone, and doublebass. Lavenda wrote the work for Benjamin Kamins, principle bassoonist for the Houston Symphony for two decades and now a professor colleague of Lavenda’s at Rice. When he set out to write the piece, Lavenda asked Kamins what he would like to play. Kamins had one request: that “after years of being an orchestral bassoonist…the other instruments not drown him out.” Lavenda treats the four instruments as equals, blending unusual but beautiful colors from a variety of combinations of texture and register and allowing each instrument to take the lead through the work’s ten-minute duration. As Lavenda explained, “Chiaroscuro explores many of the timbral and textural combinations afforded me by the unusual ensemble we created. The alternating fast and slow sections differ in affect and character, and while I would hesitate to label either as the light or the dark areas that define the painting style that gives the piece its title, there certainly are audible shadowings, blurred borders, and complementarities.”
Eric Sammut: Zapping Trio
We live in an age of specialization where people are expected to identify their passions early and then live their lives beholden to that childhood interest. I have elementary-aged children and constantly hear that if I don’t get them in (insert sport or art form here) at a young age, they won’t be able to (compete or perform) when they are teenagers. Learn coding at age 8, start violin at age 6, become a soccer star at age 4. The era of specialization is especially true when it comes to the art of chamber music. We have composers in one corner and performers in the other. One creates the music on the page and the other realizes it in performance. Unlike in earlier eras, when performers were composers and composers were also performers, the twain shall never meet in 2018.
Perhaps that’s why I’m so intrigued by the composer of the Zapping Trio, Eric Sammut. Sammut began studying piano as a child and, according to our modern traditions, should have continued on to become a pianist. But as a teenager, he discovered percussion and attended the Conservatoire supérieur de musique de Lyon, becoming a professional percussionist. His first major position was as the principal percussionist at the Orchestre de l’Opera National de Lyon, where he discovered a love of the marimba, ultimately winning the Leigh Howard Stevens International Marimba Composition in 1995. He now was a marimba specialist, touring and performing and winning the principal percussionist job at the Orchestre de Paris and the marimba instructor position at the Paris Conservatoire. However, Sammut enjoyed improvisation and jazz and Bach and Edith Piaf and couldn’t find music to fit his interests. So he began composing, becoming recognized around the world for his marimba solos and chamber music featuring the marimba as much as for his performing. He broke out of the specialist mold by keeping his ears open to new influences and then passing on his changing passions to his audiences.
Zapping Trio demonstrates Sammut’s embracing the openness that lies at the heart of chamber music in its instrumentation and style. Sammut wrote the work for the unusual combination of marimba, clarinet, and bass and then asked those musicians to play like a small jazz combo. The work opens with an improvisatory marimba solo before launching into a marimba groove. About a minute into the work, the clarinet and bass begin their own improvisatory section before settling into a 1920s Tin Pan Alley-era style. After this dual introduction, the marimba and clarinet move into an extended duet, swapping the melody between them, each playing in a complementary style with the bass acting as their rhythm section. Following a lyrical middle section, the opening groove returns, this time reimagined as a 1950s-era popular song – you can almost hear Jacques Brel or Edith Piaf singing this delightful trio to a close.
Daniel Kellogg: Divinum Mysterium
This second week of Summerfest is full of living composers, showing what is truly foundational to the art and soul of chamber music – that it is a living, breathing, transforming art that is more vital today than at any time in history. Modern composers love the flexibility of timbres available to them in chamber music versus established large ensembles, and the variety of styles they can play with in their compositions. So from the shadings of dark and light in Chiaroscuro and the jazzy grooves of the Zapping Trio we come to the more esoteric and atmospheric pleasures Divinum Mysterium.
As with Richard Lavenda and Eric Sammut, Daniel Kellogg is probably a new composer to you. After completing composition degrees at Yale University, Kellogg began teaching at the University of Colorado, and since taking that position, he has steadily been accumulating awards and recognition from major groups around the United States for his stylistic diversity, formal rigor, and heartfelt emotional connection. His work Divinum Mysterium, the result of a commission from eighth blackbird, ably demonstrates these facets of his music and has become one of his most-performed compositions. Kellogg decided he wanted the work to retell the world’s creation as found in the book of Genesis using the tune “Of the Father’s Love Begotten” as a melodic anchor. Here’s how he describes the work’s genesis:
“The opening verses of John’s Gospel and the several that follow are among my favorite passages of scripture. John writes that not only was the world created through Christ, but Christ is also the light that will overcome the darkness by restoring the creation. This was the plan from before there was existence: it is circular, beautiful, and offers complete hope. We humans are not in fact a cosmic accident but are the result of the greatest work of art (the creation), by the greatest artist (Christ). We are not alone, but in fact are loved.
This piece is a personal response to the overwhelming beauty of the creation and the magnificent forces that were involved in its beginnings. I am moved to capture glimpses of this story in music. I wanted to dwell on God’s terrifying presence and power, His Light that is all glorious, His compassion and love, and the response of rejoicing.”
“Divinum Mysterium is the name of a text by Prudentius that was translated and set as a hymn called “Of the Father’s Love Begotten.” Singing this hymn each Advent season in our family’s church is one of the most beautiful and striking experiences in my musical memory. It was unlike any other musical experience I knew: we sang it in unison and without accompaniment except for tonic bell tones between the phrases. I felt connected to the people of ancient times who used it to express their praise, and yet it felt vibrant and contemporary. It remains my favorite hymn.”
“When I set out to write a piece about the creation this melody came to mind as the perfect vehicle to represent my Christian understanding of the creation. This melody is sung at the beginning of the piece, played by piano and cello at the end, and woven throughout each movement.”
“Evermore and evermore.”
The five-movement work begins with a statement of the hymn, followed by the chaos of creation represented by disconnected melodic lines that flow among the instruments. The second movement opens with the pulsing stillness of the world covered with water until God enters this darkness in a haunting flute melody that hovers over the dissonant clusters and arpeggiation of the rest of the ensemble. The movement ends with the flute speaking creation into being, leading into the third movement, “Light.” The energy and clear diatonicism of this movement combines with its high range and rhythmic groove to celebrate the creative spirit. After this outpouring, it is necessary to “Rest” with a lyrical, long-lined movement featuring the string instruments. The final movement is full of “Rejoicing” for this act of creation, starting with a beautiful rendition of “Of the Father’s Love Begotten” that is constantly interrupted by startling outburst, as though no one on stage can help but shout about the glory of what surrounds them. Hopefully this piece will send you out into the world with a fresh appreciation of the beauty, the soul of the world around you.