Declamation – James Kazik; Parade of the Charioteers – Miklós Rózsa, arr. James Nova; Sonata Pian’ e Forte – Giovanni Gabrieli; The River Bells – Steven Verhelst; Capriol Suite – Peter Warlock; Seven Bagatelles – Frigyes Hidas; Egmont Overture – Ludwig van Beethoven
This was a blast. The trombone choir is twelve Juilliard students who study with, and are directed by, Joseph Alessi who is also principal trombonist of the New York Philharmonic. All twelve players performed in all seven pieces on the program. It’s the first concert I’ve ever gone to where they handed out earplugs in the lobby beforehand. (For the record, I did not use them though I saw others who did.)
Declamation was exactly that, and it was a thrilling, if brief, introduction to the amassed brass sound. The Parade that followed was a march that I noted was almost regal. I also wrote that it had a John Williams quality, but there I was wrong. The piece was written as part of the score for the movie Ben Hur, so I guess the Williams connotation should have been the other way around—Williams was perhaps Rózsa-esque.
Hello, Gabrieli. This was easily my favorite work of the afternoon. Gabrieli is known for his antiphonal church writing, where one choir (voices or instruments) would be in one part of the church while a second would answer from another area. There was no real space for separation on Wednesday afternoon, but the delineation of two four-voice ensembles was crystal clear. And the Forte portion of Pian’ e Forte was effected by both playing together, joined by the other four players, too. The piece made a great impact on me via its clearly defined compositional techniques.
The River Bells was very rhythmic and percolated along, with some solo callouts along the way, as well. It was energetic, in a contained way, and then switched to a calm interlude that reminded me of a folk song that was just plain beautiful before returning to the high energy feel (that went on a bit too long for me).
The six-movement Capriol Suite was familiar to me from its orchestral version, though it started life as a piano duet. The first movement had a nice Renaissance feel with antiphonal writing, while the second seemed almost like a hymn tune set against muted accompaniment (the mutes created a quasi-buzzy sound at times). The third movement was dance like both in sound and in terms of the choreography of the mutes. The fourth had a perpetual motion feel that increased in speed and then increased in speed again. The fifth was gentler—I found myself wondering if it was rooted in an actual lullaby—sweet, and even poignant, including its brief coda. The final movement was brisk and energetic and, even in its ending, almost harsh.
The Seven Bagatelles began with a fanfare and then sort of morphed through a quick movement, a gentle movement, a muted movement with slightly dissonant chords, and then a return to the rocking feel. A brisk, full movement followed that seemed to have a modern feel, or a film score feeling. A ponderous section followed that gave me the feeling of the composer saying, “Look what I can do,” though not in an entirely pleasing way. A fun waltz followed that included a few slides for an almost comic effect before returning to another fanfare to close the piece out.
The Beethoven, also familiar to me, had dramatic unison/octave writing for its beginning. Dark chords followed and then the music fully unfolded. It was a fairly effective adaptation of major orchestral writing, though at times I felt there was almost a touch of overkill. Still it allowed for the full amassed sound of twelve trombones—and they definitely made a statement. But I liked the statement of the Gabrieli better. I’m glad I got to hear it and all of the other pieces in this intriguing concert.
ConcertMeister
No comments:
Post a Comment