CONTEMPORARY MUSIC REVIEW

Solos and Interactions

October 6, 2002

Citywinds


By Jeff Rosenfeld

There must have been plenty to do on Sunday, between fair weather and playoff baseball, because barely more than a dozen people showed up at Old First Church in San Francisco for the Citywinds concert. The dedicated few were rewarded with a contemporary program played with panache.

The best of the concert was its second half, devoted to works by Matt Ingalls and David Sampson and the Ingalls work, CrusT for Clarinet and Tape nearly overshadowed the rest of the concert. In this tightly crafted interplay of electronics and soloist, Ingalls managed the tape console while Robert Bailis, the Citywinds clarinetist, was the solo performer. Throughout the concert, Bailis shone with a sweet, singing tone, but in CrusT he also displayed a wide range of technical wizardry.

The 13-minute CrusT starts relatively simply, the clarinet part building gradually through an abundance of trills and eventually soaring through a long improvised cadenza about six minutes into the work. A long, climactic sequence of electronics alone follows, building to a roar like a jet engine before dissipating into a cascade of clattering sounds. This proves to be a natural launching point for the soloist to work back into the soundscape (with staccato passages recalling the jazzy finale of Aaron Copland's Concerto for Clarinet) and eventually the piece works toward a transfixing ending. The clarinet slips away on a quiet sustained note that reflects the work's opening.

The tape for CrusT is based on sounds of an actual clarinet — presumably from the Oakland-based composer/performer's own instrument. Despite the wide range of sounds emanating from the tape, simple rhythmic gestures and pitch and register relationships bind soloist to electronics. Ingalls effectively manipulates the clarinet's mechanical and acoustic quirks to give the tape a satisfying interactive role. The integration with Bailis was so good that it seemed irrelevant who or what was producing which sound. We were enveloped by clarinet: its sassy, cool, and purr pushed to the nth degree but never into the kind of a grand joke or tone painting that marked Morton Subotnik's landmark clarinet/tape works of a few decades ago.

Conservative at the core

By contrast David Sampson's woodwind quintet, In Memoriam: W.E.S., was wholesomely conventional. This work (from 1981) is part of the ongoing revival of extramusical inspiration and frank tonality. Sampson wrote the quintet as an homage to his brother, who was killed in a civil rights clash in North Carolina. Flutist Esther Landau pointed out to the audience the harsh chords that represent fear and the mournful but beautiful music that later represents tragic loss and peace. I lost track of programmatic intentions, however; the musical narrative is strong enough on its own.

The 14-minute work is a succession of several linked sections. The opening was rather plain, perhaps establishing an expectant mood, but lacking interesting counterpoint. However, things picked up dramatically in the inner sections and the extended final section, which features a series of solos for the various instruments. The music remained relatively uncomplex, but it was melodically inspired. The final horn solo was an eloquent conclusion. All in all, it was a wonderful display for the burnished tones of Citywinds (Landau, flute; Laura Reynolds Chrisp, oboe; Bailis, clarinet; Zachary Limacher, horn; Carla Wilson, bassoon).

The chain of solo passages in the Sampson actually recalled a similar device that opens Samuel Barber's Summer Music. This familiar wind quintet was one of three warhorses on the program before intermission. The Summer Music and Gyorgy Ligeti's Six Bagatelles were colorfully, expressively played. The Ligeti was an interesting foil for the Sampson quintet. Whereas in the Bagatelles Ligeti tests his ability to make the most out of a single note or chord or rhythm, Sampson seemed sometimes to intentionally limit himself so as not to overtax the listener. The Ligeti is ultimately more tightly constructed, demanding tremendous precision from the players. Citywinds was definitely up to this challenge.

Between the Ligeti and Barber was the Sonata for Horn in F and Piano by Paul Hindemith. Limacher made the music seem smooth and comfortable, emphasizing the nobility of the horn but seeming a bit restrained. Rather than seizing the piece with grandeur or daring, he allowed the far more intricate piano part to carry Hindemith's musical argument. Accompanist Michele Arnold Limacher responded with the requisite momentum and subtlety to make this approach work well.

(Jeff Rosenfeld is an oboist with the Kensington Symphony, West County Winds, and Pacific Wind Ensemble. He is a freelance science journalist and author of the recent book, Eye of the Storm: Inside the World's Deadliest Hurricanes, Tornadoes, and Blizzards.)

©2002 Jeff Rosenfeld, all rights reserved