The Story of Minimalism – Part One: A New Way of Listening

“What you hear depends on how you focus your ear. We’re not talking about inventing a new language, but rather inventing new perceptions of existing languages.” – Philip Glass

 

If you’ve tuned into All Classical Portland recently, you may have come across some music your ears weren’t expecting to hear from a classical radio station. On a recent Wednesday morning, Christa Wessel shared Philip Glass’s Piano Etude No. 6 from a new CD by Víkingur Ólafsson. One late Thursday night, Andrea Murray treated us with Max Richter’s On the Nature of Daylight. While both these works could be argued to be “classical” pieces, they stand out for the way they pervade popular culture and entertainment – both Glass and Richter have composed extensively for films and television.

Richter and Glass’s pieces can be described as examples from a movement and genre in classical music known as “minimalism.” Minimalism started in mid-1960s on the experimental outskirts of classical music. Now, minimalism has become an international phenomenon that has profoundly influenced the direction of new music in the U.S. and beyond, leading to the claim of minimalism as the “common musical language” of the late 20th and early 21st centuries.

Philip Glass, Études, No. 6, performed by Víkingur Ólafsson

 

Minimalism is also a prime example of how labels and categories in music and art can be inherently limited, making it hard to see how trends grow, change, redefining themselves over time. By absorbing a diversity of influences, and in turn influencing so many areas of our musical culture, minimalism breaks down the walls commonly forged between “high” and “low” art in classical music. Minimalism has reached the corners of almost every part of musical culture, from film scores to pop albums, jazz riffs to contemporary classical soundscapes. And has grown beyond its own label: evolved over time, branching out, becoming something arguably more “maximal” than minimal.

Max Richter, “On the Nature of Daylight,” performed by the Ataneres Ensemble

 

What happens when a music appears to transgress the boundaries of what is “classical”? What happens when a music attempts to closes riff created between composer and audience in early-20th century modernist music? What happens when a music re-conceptualizes the very core of how we listen, reuniting audiences with sound as a visceral experience and emotional affect? This is the story of minimalist music.

 

Minimalism’s Origin and the Four “Vanguard” Composers

The journey minimalism has taken is a long one, but let us start at the beginning. The original minimalist movement was not restricted to music, touching nearly every art form, including the visual arts, literature, film. Minimalism originated in a slew of underground activity in the cinema, music, painting and sculpture in the late 1950s and early 1960s, centered in New York and San Francisco. There were strong links between early minimalist composers and artists, with performances often taking place in art galleries and lofts rather than traditional concert venues. And similar to minimalist art, minimalist composers were reacting against the complexity, density, and sheer difficulty of recent modernist music.

A charismatic group of four composers are typically labelled at the “vanguard” composers of minimalist music. They were all born within several years of each other – La Monte Young (b. 1935), Terry Riley (b. 1935), Steve Reich (b. 1936), and Philip Glass (b. 1937). An eclectic array of musical ideas influenced this initial group, making it difficult to describe the movement itself in anything but broad terms. We can, however name some commonalities. Core to minimalism is the reduction of materials to a minimum. Procedures are simplified, and often what goes on in the music is immediately apparent to a listener. Minimalist music typically features repetition, diatonic scales and harmonies, a grid of steady beats, without a change in tempo (making it similar to certain genres of Baroque music), and monochrome or terraced dynamics (unlike the expressive fluidity of the Romantic and modernist eras).

The “vanguard” of minimalist music. (clockwise from upper left: La Monte Young, Terry Riley, Steve Reich, and Philip Glass.)

 

Notably, all four of these vanguard composers were brought up in the Western classical tradition, studying music at various prestigious classical music schools. However, these composers stand out for the way they created art that stood outside of the establishment – being influenced by other, non-Western styles including Indian raga and African drumming. Minimalist music is often seen as a rejection of European modernist trends such as the complex and mathematically-strict Serialism. There is an intentionally sparse use of traditional elements of form and style in minimalist music. It returns to the roots, the basic elements of music: melody, modality, and rhythm.

 

A key predecessor to minimalism’s radical simplicity were recent avant-garde trends in music, especially the music John Cage. Cage’s 4’33”, for example, take reductionism to the extreme, and could be seen as the ultimate minimalist composition – the performer does not play a single note, allowing everyday sounds to formulate the aural experience of the piece. Another aspect minimalism took from the avant-garde was the aleatoric: creating unpredictability in performance by abandoning conventions like rhythm and tempo. Aleatoric techniques are especially employed in the music of La Monte Young. Take, for example, Young’s “The Melodic Version Of The Second Dream Of The High-Tension Line Stepdown Transformer” From The Four Dreams Of China (yes, a mouthful of a title). The work is played by eight muted trumpets, who play four distinct, recurring tones in a spontaneous, improvised style.

 

La Monte Young, “The Melodic Version Of The Second Dream Of The High-Tension Line Stepdown Transformer” From The Four Dreams Of China, performed by the Theatre of Eternal Music Brass Ensemble

 

La Monte Young is probably the least known of the minimalist vanguard, but he is generally considered to have launched the movement with his “long-tone” pieces. While a graduate student at Berkeley in 1958, Young submitted a work for his composition class he called Trio for Strings. But it is not just any conventional Trio: it is long, monotonous, and consists of only three notes. His professor refused to give him a grade for the work. There is thought behind it, however: the entries and exits of the three tones are paced to create different harmonic effects that emerge in and out of the texture.

Young’s Trio for Strings reflects a lot of his later music, which centers in on a small number of pitches sustained for long periods of time. His Composition 1960 No. 7, for example, consists only of the notes B and F#, instructed “to be held for a long time.” Young’s The Tortoise: His Dreams and Journeys (1964) is a type of improvisation, where instrumentalists and singers come in and out on various harmonics over a drone by a synthesizer.

With not much to listen for in Young’s sparse scores, the listener’s attention is directed to more minute changes in pitch and timbre that happen as a musician attempts to sustain a pitch on their instrument. Young’s music is striking in that deliberately disregards classical music’s tendency to be a teleological narrative with a clear opening, development, climax, and resolution. In Young’s music, goal-oriented directionality is replaced with an overt stasis.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-No6_12i_BE

La Monte Young, Trio for Strings, performed by the Trio Basso.

 

It was the lack of structure and narrative Young’s Trio for Strings that likely contributed to his  professor refused to give him a grade for the project. The piece was, however, admired by a fellow student named Terry Riley, our second vanguard composer. Riley, who had once performed in an ensemble of Young’s, branched out from Young by exploring patterns with more repetition than sustaining tones. Riley is known for his experiments with tape loops, short segments of spliced tape that when fed through a tape recorder play the same sounds over and over again. His tape piece Mescalin Mix (1960-62) piles up many such tape loops over a regular pulse, creating a creepy collage of interacting phrases and utterances.

Riley’s most well-known work, In C (1964), applies a similar process to live instruments. The piece consists of 53 melodic cells in numbered sequence, the whole score fitting on one page. The piece can be performed by any group of instruments, with one performer providing a rhythmic motor on the note C. As the performers move through each cell, the number of repetitions in each part and the coordination of parts are left indeterminate. The sonic result is an unpredictable and ever-changing landscape of layered sounds over a hypnotic pulse, with a gradual shift from  consonance to dissonance and back as certain notes are introduced and disappear from the cells. Riley’s technique of repeating cells of material is called modularism: using a repeated, cell-like motif as the basis for an entire work – in other words, taking repetition to an extreme degree.

Terry Riley, In C, performed by the VENI Academy.

 

Steve Reich, our third vanguard composer, grew upon this idea of modularism, using it to create a process-oriented musical language of subtly shifting elements that change over time. Many of Reich’s compositions use a technique called phase-shifting, where musicians play the same material but “out of phase” with each other like a closely-spaced canon, with each part starting at a slightly different time and even proceeding at different speeds from one another.

Like Riley, Reich’s initial musical explorations were made on tape. His first tape piece to use phase-shifting, It’s Gonna Rain, begins with a repetitive loop of a recording of a preacher on a New York street. Reich doubles the loop so that two copies are playing at once, but at slightly different speeds. One loop gradually moves ahead of the other, causing the loops gradually shift in and out of rhythm with each other, like turning a musical kaleidoscope. Another early tape piece of Reich’s is his Come Out (1966). Again, Reich begins with a tape loop of a spoken phrase (“come out to show them”). This time, however, the texture grows from two, to four, to eight simultaneous loops, each slightly out of phase with one another. The words of the speaker become incomprehensible, a mash of vowels and consonants remain.

Steve Reich, It’s Gonna Rain

 

Reich later applied his phase-shifting concept to acoustic instruments. His Piano Phase (1967), for example, recreates this effect using not tape, but two pianos. Both pianos begin by repeating the same simple melodic line in unison, but one piano gradually speeds up until it is a full beat ahead of the other piano. Each performance of Piano Phase will be slightly different, as the number of repetitions; speed of the transitions; and, consequently, the length of the piece are up to the performers. It is fascinating to observe how new rhythms emerge out of the ever-shifting interactions between the two melodies of Piano Phase. Into the 1970s, Reich pushed into this area of rhythm even further. Much of his music became percussion-oriented, with superimposed layers of polyrhythms that in many ways parallel styles of African drumming. (An example of this is his Drumming of 1970-1).

Steve Reich, Piano Phase

 

Reich formed his own ensemble and has made a living by performing, touring, and recording his works. This ensemble drew in a wide range of listeners, not just from the classical world, but those accustomed to jazz, rock, and pop music. Philip Glass, our final member of the vanguard, was similar to Reich in that he also struck out of the musical establishment by forming his own ensemble. Glass stands out, however, through his more roundabout means of arriving at minimalism. He was at Juilliard when Young, Reich, and Riley’s early performances were happening in New York, and then left to study composition in Paris with Nadia Boulanger. It was there that Glass became influenced by non-Western music, particularly through working with the great Indian sitarist Ravi Shankar. Glass became Shankar’s assistant on the soundtrack for the 1966 film Chappaqua, and his work since the 1960s became heavily shaped by Hindustani classical music. Various facets of this style– including circular rhythmic organization, melodiousness, and simple harmonic progressions which place an emphasis on consonance – parallel similar trends in minimalism.

Ravi Shankar feat Philip Glass, Ragas In Minor Scale from Passages

 

Philip Glass had studied at Julliard with Steve Reich and made contact with him again after his travels in Europe and India. Influenced by Reich’s rhythmic phase-shifting music, Glass began to simplify his music down to what he described as ‘music with repetitive structures.’ Examples in this style include Strung Out (1967) and Music in 12 Parts (1971–4), a massive four-hour piece scored for voices, electric organs, flutes, and saxophones. Glass’s music is quite idiosyncratic and often immediately recognizable to a listener familiar with his work. His pieces, built on a foundations of cyclically repeating triadic patterns, represent a unique confluence of Indian music, minimalism, and Glass’s own expressive sensibility, at once emotionally charged and held back in melancholic restraint.

https://youtu.be/8f8Zp-i6Lis

Philip Glass, Music in 12 Parts (Part 1)

 

Young, Riley, Reich, and Glass all emerged onto the music scene around the same time, standing out from the classical music establishment through music that created new hypnotic listening experiences, wherein emergent complexities in rhythmic and melodic interactions arise out of a radical simplicity of materials. As we have seen and heard, however, individual stylistic differences distinguish each composer from one another. Young’s minimalism emphasizes drones and static sounds, and while drones were also central to Riley’s music, he developed more rhythmic cyclical patterns on top of the stasis. Reich’s incorporation of phase shifting and additive/subtractive rhythmic processes created a minimalism based not in stasis, but time and motion, and Glass took this style further through his studies with Ravi Shankar and his unique harmonic language.

 

“Men”-imalism: Beyond the Vanguard

These individual differences considered, it is worthwhile to note that all four members of the vanguard have expressed uneasiness with being grouped under the label of minimalism, a foreshadow to the way minimalism would soon break out in many different directions. In creating the story of the Young-Riley-Reich-Glass “vanguard,” music history also ends up passing over many composers who don’t perfectly fit the prescribed mold, slipping through the cracks of recognition. The way that music historians have singled out a vanguard group helps provide us with an introductory overview of early minimalism’s elements. However, it also creates an exclusive, narrowly male narrative of minimalism, neglecting the many women composers who were working on the frontiers of the central New York minimalism scene. Crucial female figures like Pauline Oliveros, Joan La Barbara, Meredith Monk, Eliane Radigue, and Laurie Spiegel expanded beyond the borders of minimalism by delving into radical experimentations in electronics, computer-based music, and performance art, and are deserving of a post on their own.

Midori Takada.

Consider, for example, Midori Takada, a female a composer and percussionist in Japan who released a series of records – first with the Mkwaju Ensemble, then on her own – in the 1980s. Takada plays an impressive range of instruments and found objects – from marimbas and gongs to ocarinas and Coca-Cola bottles – using layers of overdubs to create an ensemble of her own. Her work recalls numerous aspects of minimalism. In her 1983 album Through the Looking Glass, layered textures and interlocking rhythmic patterns recall Steve Reich, with an atmospheric and hypnotic feel akin to the drone-based works of Young and Riley. Ultimately, however, Takada creates a contemplative and whimsical sound that is unique to her alone.

Midori Takada, “Mr. Henri Rousseau’s Dream” from Through the Looking Glass

 

Minimalism as a New Way of Listening

Can we call Takada’s work “minimalism” despite a lack of direct association with the original vanguard? Rather than associating minimalist style with a certain generation of composers or certain named compositional techniques, it might be more helpful to view minimalism as a music that encourages a certain way of listening.

It is common to hear minimalist music described as hypnotic or meditative. In Glass’s music, the cyclic repetition of chords creates a moving tapestry of sounds, plunging open-eared listeners into an altered psychological state. You don’t need to pay attention to each note as it passes to feel the effect of the music. In fact, you often can’t, with too many rhythmic and melodic layers to pick out one line from the rest of the texture. In this way listening to minimalist music is a lot like listening to the rain – you don’t hear each drop in isolation, rather, your ears become immersed in a symphony of interactions.

The key here is that minimalist music is non-teleological. Most classical music follows a linear, arch-like storyline, with harmony and melody that move in patterns of building anticipation and tension, to a peak and release. Minimalist music, as musicologist Susan McClary notes, seems to have no past or future tense, with the present –what is going on right here – seeming to unfold forever. There is not necessarily a felt need to “arrive” anywhere. In this space, the listener is fee to travel among the layers of the present moment. If melody were the x-axis and harmony were the y-axis in a musical plane, the shifting rhythms and emergent textural density of minimalism creates a new x-axis, an added third dimension to the experience of music.

Steve Reich, Cello Counterpoint, performed by Rose Bellini

 

Listening to minimalist music is like being inside of a process. In his essay “Music as a Gradual Process,” Reich describes his music as a process that once set up and loaded, runs by itself. The composer steps back from the materials and lets bloom a sonic result that is vaster than any individual creator, standing on its own almost like a force of nature. The experience of minimalist music is different than just walking up to a finished painting, it’s a journey you must move through from start to finish to get the full effect of the piece. Hearing the very gradual changes among repeating parts allows the listener to experience interactions between melodies, rhythms, and harmonies, at every stage of how they relate to one another.

Where did minimalism go from here, as a radically process-oriented music? Read Part Two for the rest of minimalism’s story.

 

References

  1. Allan, Jennifer Lucy. “The Trouble With Menimalism: Rescuing Histories From The Cutting Room Floor.” The Quietus. 20 Mar 2018. Web. Accessed 2 May 2018. http://thequietus.com/articles/24245-minimalism-sexism
  2. Burkholder, J. Peter, Grout, Donald Jay, and Palisca, Claude V. A History of Western Music. 9th New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2014. Print.
  3. Davis, Elizabeth. “Introducing Philip Glass: A divisive but hugely influential figure in contemporary music.” Royal Opera House. 29 Sept 2014. Web. Accessed 15 April 2018. http://www.roh.org.uk/news/introducing-philip-glass-a-divisive-but-hugely-influential-figure-in-contemporary-music
  4. Dayal, Geeta. “Ambient pioneer Midori Takada: ‘Everything on this earth has a sound.’” The Guardian. 24 Mar 2017. Web. Accessed 15 April 2018. https://www.theguardian.com/music/2017/mar/24/midori-takada-interview-through-the-looking-glass-reissue
  5. Gann, Kyle. “A Course in Postminimalism.” KyleGann.com. Web. Accessed 29 March 2018. http://www.kylegann.com/AshgatePostminimalism.html
  6. Gann, Kyle. “A Forest from the Seeds of Minimalism: An Essay on Postminimal and Totalist Music.” Program for Minimalism Festival of the Berliner Gesellschaft fur Neue Musik, 1998. Web. Accessed 29 March 2018. http://www.kylegann.com/postminimalism.html
  7. Hazelwood, Charles. “Adventures in motion and pitches: how minimalism shook up classical music.” The Guardian. 2 Mar 2018. Web. Accessed 29 March 2018. https://www.theguardian.com/music/2018/mar/02/minimalism-music-revolution-charles-hazelwood
  8. May, Thomas. “Transforming America’s Music: A Milestone Year of Adams, Glass, and Reich.” 8 Feb 2017. Web. Accessed 15 April 2018. https://live.stanford.edu/blog/february-2017/transforming-americas-music-milestone-year-adams-glass-and-reich
  9. “Minimalist music: where to start.” Classic FM. 29 Nov 2012. Web. Accessed 29 March 2018. http://www.classicfm.com/discover-music/periods-genres/modern/minimalism-guide/
  10. Service, Tom. “Minimalism at 50: how less became more.” The Guardian. 24 Nov 2011. Web. Accessed 15 April 2018. https://www.theguardian.com/music/2011/nov/24/minimalism-at-50
  11. Uno Everett, Yayoi. “Glass Breaks the Ceiling: Minimalism in Our Culture of Repetition.” Huffington Post. 19 Dec 2013. Web. Accessed 15 April 2018. https://www.huffingtonpost.com/yayoi-uno-everett/glass-breaks-the-ceilingm_b_4466034.html

Harry Rabinowitz

On Tuesday, May 8, All Classical Portland will be naming its Music Library in honor of Harry Rabinowitz (1916-2016), a British conductor and composer known for his television and film music. Rabinowitz is best known for having conducted the scores for over 60 films, and he regularly appeared on TV and radio throughout the 1950s and ‘60s, where he was a conductor on the BBC Radio and later head of music at BBC TV Light Entertainment London Weekend Television. (Scroll to the bottom of this page to explore a photo gallery of Harry Rabinowitz over the years!)

The late director Anthony Minghella, whom Rabinowitz collaborated with on numerous occasions, described him as “the UK’s best kept secret.” Rabinowitz worked with orchestras around the world and played a key role in the British broadcasting and film industries. We honor him today not only for these important contributions but also for his longtime support of All Classical Portland. Let’s step back for a moment to commemorate his wide-ranging and fully lived life.

Rabinowitz was born in Johannesburg, South Africa. At the age of nine, a neighbor began showing interest in playing piano and dragged Rabinowitz into it. Shortly after, Rabinowitz began taking piano lessons himself, delving into the world of music and never looking back. Rabinowitz attended Witwatersrand University in South Africa, where he studied politics, piano, and composition.

In a way, Rabinowitz’s musical career began with one of his first jobs, where he was a pianist in the sheet music department of a Johannesburg store, playing music for potential customers. With the onset of World War II in 1942, however, Rabinowitz joined the South African army, eventually reached the rank of corporal. During this time, he worked for the Entertainment Unit. Rabinowitz taught soldiers to play music on whatever instruments they could get their hands on. Apartheid would not be established until 1948, but Rabinowitz recalled having to rehearse ensembles with black musicians in secret. “This white man, only 21 years old,” remarked Rabinowitz, “had to write a pass to allow men on to the street.”

After his time with the South African Army, Rabinowitz got his start in conducting the orchestra for a show called Strike a New Note in Johannesburg. In a 2008 interview with Peter Korn, Rabinowitz describes his experience there: “While there I realized there was a discrepancy in timing between the stage and the pit. To overcome it I had to stand up and wave my hands and I seized a rolled-up newspaper – my first baton – and conducted the stage and the orchestra at the same time. And that was the beginning of my feeling that I could really master difficult situations in music.” Rabinowitz never did bother to go out and buy a baton after the newspaper incident. “Working in the studios there was always some jerk of a conductor who left his pencils, erasers and baton,” he described in the same interview. “So all through my professional life I’ve used findings.”

In 1946, Rabinowitz left South Africa to study conducting at the Guildhall School of Music in London. There, Rabinowitz quickly established himself within the industry, largely in thanks to a lucky chance encounter that initially launched off his conducting career. Walking along Piccadilly Street with rainwater seeping through his shoes, Rabinowitz ran into the well-known actor and comedian Sid James, his best man at his wedding in 1944 and a former comrade from the South African army. James promptly brought Rabinowitz to the office of the bandleader and impresario Jack Hylton, where he told Hylton that Rabinowitz would “do anything you like musically.” Just like that, Rabinowitz found himself playing the piano for the BBC radio show Variety Band-Box, and performing as a session musician at EMI’s Abbey Road recording studios. His conducting work began shortly thereafter in 1950 with Philip Torre’s musical Golden City, set in the South African gold rush of 1886.

All Classical’s Edmund Stone on Rabinowitz’s encounter with Sid James: 

“Once he told me he was out of work, broke and unable to get work in London.  He was walking down a London street when he bumped into Sid James, then a famous comedy film actor and with whom Harry had served in the South African military.  Sid immediately took Harry to see a management friend who arranged for Harry to get work conducting for the BBC.  This illustrates that even someone as great as Harry, or perhaps WHY Harry is so great, is that he remembers the acts of kindness and knows they are never wasted: he is living proof of that. It is a great, if understated tale, of how one person can make such a huge difference in not only another human’s life but in all our lives due to the ripple effects it has.  Harry’s friend reached out to one person, but Harry, through that seminal act of one kindness, reached the whole world.” 

Listen to “The Talented Mr. Rabinowitz” episode of The Score™

Of course, Rabinowitz’s first gigs weren’t all just luck. In a 2015 interview, Rabinowitz credits much of his success to learning to read music “very quickly and very accurately” at an early age. “A score which would normally take somebody 20 minutes to put right,” he noted, “…I reckon I can do it in seven-and-a-half minutes.” This skill would become especially useful in 1953, when Rabinowitz became a conductor of the BBC Revue Orchestra. The Revue Orchestra was a house band for BBC’s “Light Programme,” a radio station which streamed light entertainment and music from 1945 to 1967. The orchestra also played for TV shows such as Hancock’s Half Hour and The Goon Show: this was during a time when variety and comedy shows were often backed by a live orchestral accompaniment. In the meantime, Rabinowitz remained active as a pianist, playing on Midday Music Hall and Piano Playtime.

Rabinowitz moved through several different posts through the 1960 and ‘70s. In 1960, he became the head of music for BBC TV Light Entertainment, conducting the orchestra for shows including the Val Doonican Show, Peter Cook, and Dudley Moore’s Not Only… But Also. Rabinowitz composed the music for several shows as well, including The Frost Report (1966). During this period, Rabinowitz had the opportunity to conduct the United Kingdom’s Eurovision Song Contest entries on two occasions, in the years 1964 and 1966. Eurovision is an annual TV song competition where each participating country submits an original song to be performed live, with viewers casting votes to determine the winner (akin to an international version of shows like American Idol or The Voice).

Rabinowitz struck out as a freelancer in 1977, the same year he was awarded the title of Member of the Order of the British Empire (MBE) for his services to music. Rabinowitz began venturing beyond his reputation as a conductor and arranger of light and popular music to pursuing directing and composing opportunities in theatre, films, and broadcasting. He served as the music director for several West End musicals, including the first-ever run of the Andrew Lloyd Weber and TS Eliot musical Cats (1981) and Don Black and Lloyd Weber’s Song and Dance (1982). In the composing realm, Rabinowitz wrote the music for the TV series the Agatha Christie Hour (1982) and Reilly: Ace of Spies (1983), and his theme music for Love for Lydia (1977) was nominated for an Ivor Novello award.

Where Rabinowitz was arguably in the greatest demand, however, was for his film scores. (In one year, 1991, he recorded the music for nine movies!) Some of his best-known scores include Chariots of Fire (1981), Return to Oz (1985), The Remains of the Day (1993), The English Patient (1996), and The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999). Rabinowitz’s final film score assignment, at the age of 87, was Cold Mountain (2003).

Additionally, during this period Rabinowitz collaborated with London Symphony Orchestra in the recording of over twenty film soundtrack and studio session recordings. As his reputation as a conductor of light and popular music spread to the U.S., Rabinowitz spent seven seasons as a guest conductor with the Boston Pops Orchestra (1985-1992), and appeared at the Hollywood Bowl with the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra in the 1980s. Rabinowitz was certainly a busy man, and he was regarded as a popular and highly professional conductor among his colleagues. Not wasting his colleague’s time by over-rehearsing was an important value for Rabinowitz as a conductor, and he once said in an interview that “In almost all the sessions I’ve conducted the musicians have left smiling.”

Edmund Stone gives us another story of Rabinowitz, this time with the London Symphony:

“When Harry was 94 he was scheduled to conduct the London Symphony in a film music concert.  He asked if I would produce a CD of the program for him to follow along with the scores.  Later I learned the concert was a huge success and there had been an unscripted piece of entertainment.  During a particularly vigorous upbeat Harry’s baton broke in two on the music stand, with the top half of his baton flying over his shoulder into the audience.  Without missing a beat Harry continued conducting with what was left of his baton.  The other half was caught by an audience member who then passed it along until it reached the front row.  With the Maestro still conducting the baton stub was then given to a bass player who passed it, section-by-section, until it reached the concertmaster who waited until the music was over before handing it to Harry.  The conductor immediately asked the lead violinist to kneel, and knighted him on the spot.”

Even after retiring for good at the tender age of 94, Rabinowitz continued to involve himself in the arts and tried his best to play the piano every day. In his later years, he divided his time between his home in Provence, France, and Portland, Oregon, where he stayed from November to April. Portland is where his second wife, Mitzi Scott, was from, whom he had met in France. Together, they were active participants in the arts community, regularly attending the Oregon Symphony, Portland Opera, chamber music concerts, and theater productions.

Rabinowitz made friends with people from all over town, and was adored by many for his amiable and witty personality. He met former All Classical Senior Announcer Robert McBride in 2007, when he and his wife Mitzi joined All Classical Portland on a trip to Russia. “I loved them both immediately and we remained friends,” Robert later remarked to an Oregonian reporter. Harry and his wife were long-time supporters of All Classical, even calling in from France to donate to All Classical’s annual fundraiser. On his program The Score, Edmund Stone worked with Harry as a guest several times (and once even filled in for Edmund as host!)

Edmund Stone recounts his time with Rabinowitz on The Score:

“Harry was my co-host several times on The Score but our best moments were after the recordings when we visited a local pub.  His anecdotes were legendary, like the time he was conducting a film music recording session in London.  There was a power outage and together with the engineer Harry asked musicians who had driven to the session to quickly get their car batteries.  By connecting these they were able to complete the recording session.  This may be the only time 20-30 vehicles were involved in a recording as much as the musicians.”

Rabinowitz died at his house in France in June of 2016, only three months after his 100th birthday. He is survived by his wife Mitzi Scott, his three children, Karen, Simon and Lisa, from his first marriage to Lorna Anderson, and four grandchildren.

Click the “read more” button below to explore a photo gallery featuring Harry Rabinowitz (thanks goes to Mitzi Scott for providing these wonderful images).

Harry Rabinowitz

References

  1. “Harry Rabinowitz.” Wikipedia.com. Web. Accessed 3 April 2018.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_Rabinowitz
  2. “Dessert Island Discs: Harry Rabinowitz: Music Played.” BBC Radio 4. Web. Retrieved 3 April 2018. http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b0606vtx#play
  3. “Harry Rabinowitz – Chariots of Fire, The Remains of the Day, The English Patient, The Talented Mr Ripley – is 100 today.” Classical Source. 26 March 2018. Web. Accessed 3 April 2018. http://www.classicalsource.com/db_control/db_news.php?id=3630
  4. “Harry Rabinowitz, composer and conductor, dies at 100.” BBC News. 23 June 2016. Web. Accessed 3 April 2018. http://www.bbc.com/news/entertainment-arts-36606891
  5. “Harry Rabinowitz, TV and film composer and conductor, dies aged 100.” Classic FM. 23 June 2016. Web. Accessed 23 June 2016. http://www.classicfm.com/music-news/latest-news/harry-rabinowitz-obituary/#HmvY6Fc7yWFGbEug.99
  6. Korn, Peter. “Q and A with Harry Rabinowitz.” Pamplin Media Group, Portland Tribune News. 17 Jan 2008. Web. Accessed 3 April 2018. http://pamplinmedia.com/component/content/article?id=61914
  7. “Harry Rabinowitz Biography.” IMDb.com. Web. Accessed 3 April 2018. https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0704948/bio?ref_=nm_ov_bio_sm
  8. “Obituary: Harry Rabinowitz (1916–2016).” London Symphony Orchestra. 23 June 2016. Web. Accessed 3 April 2018. https://lso.co.uk/more/news/561-obituary-harry-rabinowitz-1916-2016.html
  9. Laing, Dave. “Harry Rabinowitz Obituary.” The Guardian. 23 June 2016. Web. Accessed 3 April 2018. https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/jun/23/harry-rabinowitz-obituary
  10. Wang, Amy. “Harry Rabinowitz, conductor who lived part time in Portland, is dead at 100.” OregonLive. 1 July 2016. Web. Accessed 3 April 2018.  http://www.oregonlive.com/art/index.ssf/2016/07/harry_rabinowitz.html
  11. “Harry Rabinowitz.” AllMusic. Web. Accessed 3 March 2018. https://www.allmusic.com/artist/harry-rabinowitz-mn0000506631
  12. Harry Rabinowitz. The Times. 24 June 2016. Web. Accessed 3 April 2018. https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/harry-rabinowitz-m8w0p03pz
  13. “Farewell, Harry Rabinowitz.” All Classical Portland. 30 June 2016. Web. Accessed 3 April 2018. https://www.allclassical.org/spotlights/harry-rabinowitz-dies-at-100/
  14. “History Pub: Harry’s First Hundred Years: A Rousing Conversation with Recent Centenarian Harry Rabinowitz (28 March 2016).” http://portland.daveknows.org/2016/03/28/history-pub-harrys-first-hundred-years-rousing-conversation-recent-centenarian-harry-rabinowitz-28-march-2016/
Image of CD of Mozart Violin Sonatas

Tomas Cotik explores Mozart

Violinist Tomas Cotik, Assistant Violin Professor at Portland State University, is also an internationally-renowned concert and recording artist.  He has done extensive study of fellow Argentine Astor Piazzolla, in several acclaimed recordings (Naxos); a complete series of Schubert’s violin works (Centaur); and now the violin sonatas of Mozart.

Mr. Cotik has been a guest in All Classical Portland’s studios on a number of occasions, including live performances on Thursdays at Three, and he’s a welcome and familiar face here at the radio station.  In my chat with Tomas (click on player, above), we talk about his process of acquiring just the right edition of the score, to exploring Mozart’s development from the composer’s visit to Paris (1778, age 22), to his final years in Vienna.  These violin sonatas reflect his audience’s tastes (in Paris, Mannheim and Vienna), and his own stylistic growth and maturity.  Mr. Cotik, along with longtime piano partner Tao Lin, carry us through Mozart’s life in these works with great sensitivity, verve and expression.

Debussy and the Poetic Image

The 100th anniversary of Debussy’s death was this past March 25th. Debussy’s adventurous uses of harmony and orchestration would come to impact nearly every distinguished composer of the early and middle twentieth century. His music leaves behind classical structures and agendas and moves toward beauty for beauty’s sake. One experiences a profound sense of dreamlike improvisation and wandering when listening to Debussy’s music.

How did Debussy come to reach these new territories of sound? Enter Europe at the end of the 19th century. In the world of classical music, it was rapidly becoming more difficult for composers to have their new music performed. For the first time, classical music was experiencing the rise of a permanent repertoire of older works by eminent figures such as Mozart and Beethoven. Concert programs, filled with repeat performances of staple classics, left less room for contemporary pieces.

Living composers, struggling to secure a place in this crowded repertoire, faced the challenge of writing works that could offer something new, yet would still be considered worthy of being played alongside the established canon. This challenge, a paradox of creating new sounds while still respecting the classics, became the defining feature of modernist music at the fin de siècle.

Each composer found their own individual solutions to this challenge, leading to a proliferation of diverse styles and approaches in classical music. Some composers, such as Mahler and Strauss, extended the romantic harmony of Wagner. Others went on to explore new “post-tonal” ways of organizing pitch, eventually leading to practices such as atonality (music that lacks a key or tonal center) and serialism (music based on formulaic orderings of the twelve notes of the chromatic scale).

One composer often considered a leading “founder” of this new modernist movement was Claude Debussy (1862-1918). Common for all modernist composers was the act of defying traditional aspects of the language of classical music. Debussy, however, arguably challenged not only the language, but the whole way of conceptualizing and listening to classical music.

Portrait of Claude Debussy from 1909.

The son of a civil servant, Debussy was born in France and studied at the Paris Conservatory. Debussy’s music, however, breaks away from his traditional training, indulging in sound for sound’s sake and in the simple pursuit of pleasure and beauty. Unlike established practices in Western music which create a sense of tension and resolution through goal-oriented motion towards a tonic key, Debussy’s music undermines the need to resolve entirely. Instead, in Debussy’s music, the listener is invited to enjoy each moment as it comes. While there are still definable keys in Debussy’s music, he moves through them via non-goal oriented processes: one sound world merges and melds into another. Debussy’s music often consists of juxtaposed images, which he creates out of motives, harmony, exotic scales, or tone colors.

Debussy found new ideas from a multitude of diverse sound worlds: Russian composers such as Rimsky-Korsakov and Musorgsky, medieval music, and music from Asia, including Chinese melodies Javanese gamelan music. Debussy also heavily drew from non-musical sources, including Impressionist painting and Symbolist poetry. Debussy’s music focuses more on color and texture, rather than form and harmony. In his orchestral works, Debussy centered on the employment of different instrumental timbres. Oftentimes one instrument will be associated with a particular motive. In this way, the shape and structure of Debussy’s works are defined more by contrasts of timbre and texture rather than tonal function or other traditional formal devices.

 

Debussy and Impressionist Painting: Trois Nocturnes

Claude Monet’s impressionist painting Charing Cross Bridge, 1903

A term that is often heard in conjunction with Debussy’s name is “Impressionism,” a style of painting centered in Paris that concentrated on depicting the effects of light and color of a scene rather than clear and exact detail. (Artists from the original Impressionist circle of the 1860s and 70s included Pissarro, Monet, Degas, Renoir, and Sisley, but Debussy was actually a contemporary of later painters such as Paul Gauguin and Vincent Van Gogh, known now as the Post-Impressionists). Similar to Impressionism, Debussy’s works typically suggest a mood or atmosphere, rather than expressing a strong emotion or depicting a narrative or story.

Debussy’s Nocturnes for orchestra, a suite of symphonic poems, is an apt example of the influence of Impressionist paintings on Debussy’s work. Composed during 1897-99, Debussy borrowed the title not from the music genre of the same name, but of a series of Impressionist paintings by the American artist James McNeill Whistler. The three movements of Debussy’s Nocturnes are shrouded in shadow, like the way Whistler’s paintings evoke hazy scenes in the absence of direct light.

Arrangement in Grey: Portrait of the Painter, 1872 by James McNeill Whistler.

For the first movement Nuages (Clouds), Debussy wrote that he sought to capture “the unchanging appearance of the sky with the slow and melancholy progress of the clouds, ending in a gray dissolution gently tinged with white,” and he commented to a friend that he was thinking of the play of clouds over the Seine in Paris. In Nuages, we hear Debussy’s use of “images” come to the fore. These images – characterized by factors like motive, rhythm, and pitch collection, are repeated, altered, and layered throughout the piece, creating an almost visual kaleidoscopic experience that moves beyond the typical method of presenting, developing, and recapitulating themes.

The first image of Nuages emerges in the opening theme, a pattern of alternating fifths and thirds. These alternating intervals suggest movement without a clear sense of direction, akin to drifting clouds. Throughout the movement, this image repeats itself, but is slightly shifted each time, with winds replacing the strings, new intervals such as full triads and seventh chords replacing the original thirds and fifths.

Debussy’s Nocturnes is comprised of three movements: Nuages (Clouds), Fêtes (Festivals), and Sirènes (Sirens). 

Superimposed upon this first image is a second idea, a motive in the English horn that rises and descends in a different time meter than the other instruments (4/4 time against 6/4 time). Unlike the first oscillating idea, this second image remains relatively intact each time it appears, and is always played by the English horn.

Interspersed between the two images are several contrasting episodes, including a chordal idea in the strings and a unison melody that gradually intensifies. Later, a calmer-sounding section recalls Asian influences, with sustained strings underpinning a pentatonic melody in the flute and harp, possibly in reference to a Japanese flute melody or Javanese gamelan music. Debussy likely encountered pentatonic scales during at the Paris Exposition, ancient five-note scales that can be heard in folk traditions from around the world.

Whistler’s painting Nocturne: Blue and Gold—Southampton Water, 1872

The interplay between the two “images” and the contrasting episodes in Nuages are set apart by contrasting keys. The oscillating cloud image encompasses a B-minor scale, contrasting with an octatonic scale outlining a tritone in the second English horn image. The episodes take on other tonal worlds, such as the pentatonic melody centered on a D# Dorian scale. These key areas, however, don’t necessarily lead from one to another in a pattern of tension and release. Rather, Debussy uses different pitch collections to distinguish different blocks of sound that aimlessly merge from one to another, like drifting clouds on a gray day.

 

Debussy and Symbolist Poetry: Prélude à “L’apres-midi d’un faune” (Prelude to “The Afternoon of a Faun”) 

Debussy was also significantly influenced by the writers of the French Symbolist poetry movement. Symbolism sprang from literary roots, gaining inspiration from writers including Charles Baudelaire and Edgar Allan Poe. Symbolist poets rejected previous artistic leanings towards naturalism and realism, instead favoring dreams, visions, and the power of the imagination.

Symbolists were interested not in representing or describing reality, but in exploring the intangible and inexpressible truths hiding behind external appearances. Symbolist poetry is typically introspective and suggestive, leaving meanings open-ended – much like the tonal and structural ambiguity of Debussy’s music. In fact, for the Symbolist movement, music represented the ideal medium for expressing realm of the intangible, capable of suggesting multiple possible meanings and psychological states rather than spelling out specific concepts or narratives.

Stéphane Mallarmé around 1890.

Debussy himself was closely tied with the Symbolist circle in Paris. In the early 1890s, Debussy regularly attended the influential mardis (Tuesday) gatherings of the poet Stéphane Mallarmé, along with poets Paul Verlaine, Arthur Rimbaud, and other painters and intellectuals. Just as music was a source of inspiration for Symbolist poetry, Symbolist poetry was an exxential source of inspiration for Debussy’s music. One of Debussy’s most celebrated orchestral works, Prélude à “L’apres-midi d’un faune”  (Prelude to “The Afternoon of a Faun”) is based on Mallarmé’s prose poem “L’après-midi d’un faune.” (Mallarmé was reluctant to have anyone else set his poetry to music, but was ultimately impressed with the Prelude when Debussy invited him to the premiere in 1894).

In Mallarmé’s poem, a faun (a man with the legs of a goat) contemplates a memory, or possibly a dream, he has of two nymphs he encountered in the forest on a warm, lazy afternoon. The faun plays his pan-pipes, but, upon realizing that his music fails to capture the viscerality of his experience with the nymphs, he abandons his pursuits to a sleep filled with dreams and visions.

The Prelude to “The Afternoon of a Faun” is considered by many as the beginning of modern music. The piece requires a different way of listening – as you follow where the sounds take you, and enter a dream-like state much like the faun himself. Like Mallarmé’s poem, Debussy’s Prelude is fluid and mysterious. A defining feature of both the poem and the musical piece is a lack of discrete sections, seamlessly flowing the listener through one idea into the next.

The piece begins with the music the faun plays in the poem, a lugubrious melody on the flute that descends a tritone (an interval equivalent of a diminished fifth or augmented fourth) before rising back up. This tritone becomes a sort of unifying element of the piece, and it is also notable in that it outlines a whole-tone scale. A whole tone scale is a six-note scale made up entirely of whole-step intervals (i.e., starting from C on a piano, three white keys followed by three black keys). The whole-tone scale contributes to the hazy, mysterious quality of the piece because it doesn’t belong to any particular key and thus lifts the urgency for the harmony to resolve anywhere. This opening theme in the flute reappears throughout the piece in many forms, re-harmonized, re-orchestrated, and sometimes even incorporated into other melodies. In a way, the variations of the melody could be said to represent the faun, cycling through different conjectures about the nymphs: Were they real? Were they a dream? Were they but a creation of his own desire?

Programme illustration by Léon Bakst for Vaslav Nijinsky’s 1912 ballet Afternoon of a Faun, set to Debussy’s music.

Near the middle of the Prelude, Debussy slides the listener into a B section that introduces a lyrical tune in D-flat major, reminiscent of a more traditional French operatic interlude. Throughout the piece and especially at the end when the opening flute melody returns again, there are hints of E major being the tonic or home key. However, an intentional ambiguity remains through Debussy’s insistent use of the tritone interval, unresolved seventh chords, and obscured boundaries between different tonal areas. Just like Mallarmé’s poem, where the normal meanings of words are clouded which vague metaphors and simultaneous references, Debussy’s Prelude is like an ambiguous dream barely out of reach.

Debussy’s legacy on classical composers still looms large to this day. His focus on the potential of sound itself encouraged further explorations in experimental music by Varèse, Cage, Crumb, Penderecki, and others. Debussy broke the rules, and he was very aware of it. In a conversation from around 1890 with his former teacher at the Paris Conservatoire, Ernest Guiraud, Debussy was said to have remarked “There is no theory. You merely have to listen. Pleasure is the law.” For Debussy, music was, above all, an art of sound.

 

References

  1. “A Brief Guide to the Symbolists.” Poets.org. 31 May 2004. Web. Accessed 27 March 2018. https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/brief-guide-symbolists
  2. Burkholder, J. Peter, Grout, Donald Jay, and Palisca, Claude V. A History of Western Music. 9th New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2014.
  3. Burkholder, J. Peter, and Palisca, Claude V. Norton Anthology of Western Music. Volume Three: The Twentieth Century and After. 7th New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2014.
  4. Hertz, David Michael. The Tuning of the Word: The Musico-Literary Poetics of the Symbolist Movement. Southern Illinois University Press. Carbondale and Edwardsville: 1987.
  5. Roberts, Paul. Images: The Music of Claude Debussy. Amadeus Press. Portland, OR: 1996.
  6. Ross, Alex. The Rest is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007.
  7. “Symbolist Movement.” Poetry Foundation. Web. Accessed 27 March 2018. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/symbolist-movement
  8. Wenk, Arthur. Claude Debussy and the Poets. University of California Press. Berkeley: 1976.

 

Women’s History Month: Florence Price

As we wrap up Black History Month and open March with National Women’s History Month, we celebrate the life of Florence Beatrice Price (1887-1953), the first African-American woman to be recognized as a symphonic composer and to have a composition played by a major orchestra. However, to reach this achievement and become recognized for her distinct idiom, Price had to fight her way through substantial prejudices toward her gender and race throughout her lifetime. Even today, there remains a lack of recognition and appreciation for much of Price’s work, but gradually, more groups and individuals have begun to shed light on her rich and unique musical language.

 

Price composed for many types of musical forces, having written orchestral works (including four symphonies and several concertos), chamber works, art songs, works for violin, organ anthems, piano pieces, and spiritual arrangements. While Price was trained in European traditions, her compositions occupy a largely American idiom. Like fellow composers William Grant Still and William Levi Dawson,  Price was known for exploring her Southern roots, commonly incorporating the Blues and melodies of black folk songs into her works. Being deeply religious, Price often used spirituals and African American church music as sources for her music, not only their text and melodies, but also their unique rhythms and syncopated style. Price went beyond simply quoting traditional African-American folk songs, instead integrating structural techniques of these songs, like pentatonicism and call and response, into the very core of her works. Price’s works attempt answer the question of how to create sounds that reflect both a past and present embodiment of the black experience in the United States. 

 

Price’s 5 Folksongs in Counterpoint, performed by the Apollo String Quartet 

 

Price’s Life 

 

In 1893, during his time in the United States while composing his New World Symphony, composer Antonín Dvořák advised other American composers to study African American spirituals and other songs of African Americans and indigenous peoples as inspiration, going as far to proclaim that “an American art music should be built on African-American idioms.” Composers such as George Gershwin and Aaron Copland were later known for taking up this directive and exploring uniquely “American” idioms, but it is often disregarded that many African-American composers did this as well. Price might be considered the culmination of the initial group of African-American composers whose work followed Dvorak’s footsteps with the New World Symphony. How did Price navigate through hostile obstacles to come to this place? Let’s begin at the beginning, with Price’s early years in Arkansas.  

 

Price was born in Little Rock to a well-respected mixed-race family, her father a dentist and her mother a music teacher. Price’s mother first introduced her to music, and Price’s music education continued at the integrated Allison Presbyterian Church in Little Rock, where she was regularly exposed to the sacred works of Bach, Mendelssohn and Vaughan Williams. Price gave her first piano performance at age four and publishing her first composition by the age of 11, graduating high school at the top of her class at the age of 14. Price then went on to study music at the New England Conservatory of Music, where she majored in piano and organ. While there, Price studied with renowned composers including George Chadwick and Frederick Converse. During this time, however, her mother pushed her to conceal her race to avoid prejudice held toward African Americans, her graduation program listing her hometown as “Pueblo, Mexico.”  

 

Florence Price at the piano, 1941.

After graduating, Price devoted much of her time to teaching and raising a family in Arkansas, and in 1910, Price became the head of Clark Atlanta University’s music department. She also provided private instruction in organ, piano and violin. Despite her qualifications, Price application for membership of the Arkansas State Music Teachers Association was rejected because of the color of her skin. Price persisted, however, by going her own way, founding the Little Rock Club of Musicians and thereby enabling herself to program and perform her own compositions. 

 

In 1927, Price moved to Chicago with her family, driven to leave Arkansas due to several cases of lynchings and escalating racial tensions. In Chicago, Price was able to study composition with numerous teachers and was also enrolled in various times at the Chicago Musical College, Chicago Teacher’s College, University of Chicago, and American Conservatory of music, where she studied languages and liberal arts studies in addition to music.  

 

Margaret Bonds at the piano

Price divorced her husband in 1931 due to abuse and financial issues. Now a single mother, Price supported her two daughters by working as an organist for silent film recordings and composing songs for radio ads under a pen name. Price moved in with her student and friend Margaret Bonds, also a black pianist and composer. Her friendship with Bonds led to valuable connections with influential figures in the artistic world and among African-American intelligentsia. Price corresponded with W.E.B. Dubois, and set several of her pieces to poems by Langston Hughes and Paul Laurence Dunbar. Price also developed a relationship with the eminent contralto Marian Anderson. Anderson performed several of Price’s spiritual arrangements on a regular basis, and closed her historic 1939 concert at the Lincoln Memorial with Price’s arrangement of “My Soul’s Been Anchored in De Lord.” 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z02yZIoPPlI

Price’s arrangement of the spiritual “My Soul’s Been Anchored in de Lord,” performed by Marian Anderson 

 

Price soon began receiving national recognition for her compositions and performances. In 1932, Price received Wanamaker Foundation Awards for her Sonata in E Minor for solo piano and her Symphony in E minor. The Wanamaker family is one example of the numerous musical patrons in Chicago that empowered suppressed communities and shared the belief that advancing the artistic achievements of black men and women could help dismantle white supremacy. As Micela Baranello described in a recent article from The New York Times, Price’s musical style was both mainstream and idiosyncratic at the same time. Pieces such as her Sonata in E Minor and Symphony in E minor are steeped in 19th century harmony and orchestration akin to Tchaikovsky. Price’s beautiful lyricism, however, also gives way to her use of traditional African-American folk material, as well as modern chromatic harmonies. Price’s Sonata in E Minor is a clear example of this infusion of classical roots with vernacular idioms. The three-movement work represents a collage of influences, with thick chordal textures and dotted rhythms reminiscent of Beethoven in the opening of the first movement contrasting with several melodic themes carried throughout the piece that recall the form and meter of plantation songs.  

 

Movement I (Andante-Allegro) of Price’s Sonata in E Minor for solo piano, performed by Samantha Ege 

 

Price’s Symphony No. 1, too, joins together different musical worlds. An extended percussion section throughout the symphony alludes to the sounds of spirituals, with Price employing non-conventional instruments including African drums, wind whistles, and cathedral chimes.  In the first movement, “Allegro ma non troppo,” both the primary and secondary themes are built from a pentatonic scale, with syncopated rhythms common to African-American folk music. Price’s second movement, “Largo, maestoso,” revolves around an original hymn tune played by brass choir, and the use of overtones creates a solemn religious atmosphere. The third movement, “Juba Dance,” recalls plantation life, with imitations of fiddles, banjos and “patting” rhythms. And while the “Finale” sounds the most conventional of the movements, it too incorporates call and response procedures with syncopatation over a jaunting triplet figure in 2/4 time.  

 

Shortly after Price received the Wanamaker prize for her Symphony No. 1, she was approached by German composer and conductor Frederick Stock, the music director of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Stock was on the watch for new pieces to perform the 1933 Chicago World’s Fair, and Price’s Symphony No. 1 caught his attention. In 1933, the Chicago Symphony Orchestra premiered the symphony, making Price’s piece the first composition by an African American woman to be played by a major orchestra. During this time, Price also had several other orchestral works played by the WPA Symphony Orchestra of Detroit and the Chicago Women’s Symphony, and in 1940, Price was inducted into the American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers.  

 

Price’s Symphony No. 1 in E Minor, performed by the New Black Repertory Ensemble 

 

Price died from a stroke in 1953, but she was composing music up to the end of her life, ultimately accumulating hundreds of unpublished manuscripts. Unfortunately, however, much of Price’s work became overshadowed by changing tastes in musical styles after her death. Consequently, Price was largely kept out of, along with other under-recognized women composers, a canon dominated by white men. Some of her works were even lost. Fortunately, in 2009 a substantial collection of her works were rediscovered in a dilapidated house on the outskirts of St. Anne, Illinois, apparently a former summer home. Within this collection were dozens of scores, including her fourth symphony and two violin concertos. As Alex Ross stated in a February 2018 article in The New Yorker, “not only did Price fail to enter the canon; a large quantity of her music came perilously close to obliteration. That run-down house in St. Anne is a potent symbol of how a country can forget its cultural history.” Frankly, Price’s work deserves greater exposure. Price herself was proud of her accomplishments but was indubitably aware that her race and gender were major obstacles to the reception of her music. Individuals such as Frederick Stock served as a champion of Price’s work during her lifetime, but she otherwise found difficulty making headway into the classical music culture.  

 

However, we are beginning to remember Price, and her works have been slowly gaining renewed attention. Price’s discovered manuscripts are now safely kept in the University of Arkansas library, mostly complete and read to be performed. The Fort Smith Symphony in Arkansas has begun a recording project for her four symphonies under the Naxos label, based on editions prepared by the composer James Greeson (the Fourth Symphony being one of her recently discovered works). Additionally, the first recording of Price’s two violin concertos has been released last month by Albany (see below). By continuing the efforts of these groups and committing ourselves – as listeners, performers, and patrons – to more diversified narratives and backgrounds, we can begin to give under-recognized composers such as Florence Price platforms for greater access and appreciation within a culture that once excluded these voices.  

 

Listed below are recommended recordings of some of Florence Price’s most popular works:  

 

Price & Cockerham: Violin Concertos / KahngCockerhamJacacek Philharmonic 

Includes Price’s: Violin Concerto No. 1 and Violin Concerto No. 2 


Blurred Boundaries / Apollo Chamber Players 

Includes Price’s Folksongs in Counterpoint 


 

Piano Phantoms / Michael Lewin 

Includes Price’s piano piece The Goblin and the Mosquito 


 

I, Too / Smith / Mccain / Simpson 

Includes Price’s song Night for voice and piano 


 

Price: Symphony In E Minor / Dunner, New Black Music Repertory Ensemble 

Includes Price’s Symphony No. 1 in E Minor and Piano Concerto in One Movement  


Songs Of America / Oral Moses, Rosalyn Floyd, Timothy Holley 

To the Dark Virgin for Baritone, Cello, and Piano 


 

Soulscapes – Piano Music By African American Women / Corley 

http://www.arkivmusic.com/classical/album.jsp?album_id=140117  

Includes Price’s Sonata for Piano in E minor 


Music She Wrote – Organ Compositions By Women / Dr. Frances Nobert, Organ 

Includes Price’s Variations on a Folksong for Organ 


Price: The Oak, Mississippi River, Symphony No 3 / Hsu, Women’s Philharmonic 

Includes Price’s Songs of the Oak, Mississippi River Suite, and Symphony No. 3 in C Minor 

 

 

References 

  1. Baranello, Micela. “Welcoming a Black Female Composer Into the Canon. Finally.” The New York Times. 9 Feb 2018. Web. Accessed 21 Feb 2018. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/02/09/arts/music/florence-price-arkansas-symphony-concerto.html  
  2. Brown, Linda Rae, and Shirley, Wayne. “MUSA 19 – Florence Price: Symphonies Nos. 1 and 3.” Music of the United States of America, Web. Accessed 2 March 2018. https://sites.google.com/a/umich.edu/musa/publications/musa-19-florence-price  
  3. Ege, Samantha. “Florence Price and the Politics of her Existence.” The Kapralova Society Journal. 16, no. 1 (Spring 2018): 1–10. http://www.kapralova.org/journal30.pdf  
  4. Florence Beatrice Price Biography. The Biography.com Website. A&E Television Networks, 2 April 2014. Web. Accessed 21 Feb 2018. https://www.biography.com/people/florence-beatrice-price-21120681  
  5. Price Piano Concerto. Symphony in E minor. Leslie B. Dunner, cond; Karen Walwyn (pn); New Black Music Repertoire Ens. ALBANY 1295 (57:10) 
  6. Ross, Alex. “The Rediscovery of Florence Price: How an African-American composer’s works were saved from destruction.” The New Yorker. 5 Feb 2018. Web. Accessed 21 Feb 2018. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/02/05/the-rediscovery-of-florence-price  
Robert Mcbride

Testimonials for Robert McBride

We did not want this day to come, but after 17 music-filled years with All Classical Portland, Senior Announcer Robert McBride is retiring. Robert’s legacy at the station includes holding a regular air shift in prime time for all 17 years, founding and producing Club Mod (All Classical’s weekly Saturday night program dedicated to modern music), hosting the weekly live broadcast series Thursdays @ Three, contributing to original programs Played in Oregon and Northwest Previews, and regularly leading pre-concert conversations with Music Director Carlos Kalmar before Oregon Symphony Concerts. Robert is beloved by artists, listeners, and fellow broadcasters for his depth of insight, on-air wit, and contagious passion for the music. Here are just a few comments from listeners:


Robert was not just an on-air announcer.  The pleasure of listening to KQAC is as much the pleasure taken in people like Robert who infuse the music with joy and knowledge.  The music itself is diminished without people like Robert to present it.  When your ‘announcers’ infect the music with their joy of and for the music, I find myself drawn in more than I would just listening it from a CD or recording.  A restaurant’s menu is only as good as the ambiance and service that accompanies the menu – so, too, with 89.9.

We’ll miss you, Robert. Richard and Michele


My wife and I listen to All Classical all day as we are retired and are at home most of the day, that is, when we are not traveling somewhere in this beautiful world.

Listening to Robert is a joy.  He is a real class act!  We will miss his commentary, his fine radio voice, and his talks at the Oregon Symphony. Please extend our congratulations on his retirement and we wish him much health and happiness.

Enjoy your free time Robert!

Sincerely, Mary and Joe


Dear Robert,

Daily, from the time I  awaken to the time my eyes close for slumber, I listen to 89.9, enjoying so many of your broadcasts, Robert.  Yes, even at work and in the car.

Just wanted you to know that I admire your wisdom and knowledge in the incredible venue of music, your dedication to your music audience and wish you much happiness in your retirement.

Very sincerely, Maria


Robert – You are my favorite voice on my favorite radio station! I can’t imagine All Classical without you, but I will adjust. Please know that you will be dearly missed….and please enjoy your retirement!

Thanks, Victoria


Thank you so much, Robert, for all the comforting hours of listening to you and your all classical music while I work.  I’ve found my best concentration is often when your music is in the background… except, of course, when its opera that is not compatible with thinking.

I miss your soothing voice.

Rob, sustaining donor


Hi Robert,

The first time I heard Club Mod I stopped what I was doing and invested my full attention in the music. In later programs I stopped what I was doing to listen to your intro and apply it to what I was hearing.

Thank you so very much for your thoughtful and insightful presentation of music that shakes and stirs my soul.

Best Regards, Teresa

P.S. I love the international flavor of Club Mod! Listening to international modern composers makes me happy to be globally engaged in the arts!


I listen to All Classical much of the time in my retirement in Vancouver and have at least as far back as the late 1980s when I commuted from Beaverton to Vancouver. I enjoy each of the announcers, but Robert was probably my favorite and I miss him already. His clear voice and knowledge made him particularly easy to listen to, although I have to admit that Club Mod was not something I was into, probably because of the time it was on the air. I wish him well in his retirement. And to all the great folks at the station, keep up the great music offerings.

 Jim


I know these sentiments will be wide spread for Robert who seems to be a pillar at All Classical, but I will truly miss his voice – his calm demeanor and his comments and knowledge, how he interacts with the staff especially during pledge drives – it’s fun to hear his voice and enjoy the comradery. The best to Robert and enjoying his retirement.  I have the feeling that this music will always be part of his life – I know it will always be part of mine and I am so thankful that we have it here in Portland.

I feel that all the staff is very special and care about their work – each one brings a special gift with them.  I’m also so glad that they have a wonderful view of the river now which is perfect for the music they host.

Janeen, sustaining donor


Robert McBride is truly a man of music. Besides being one of my on-air “friends” at All Classical, his music knowledge has greatly enriched my listening experiences. Being a senior and rather a traditionalist; I have appreciated being educated to modern music by his Club Mod program. While I wish him a rewarding retirement, I hope we will continue to hear his contributions to the Portland music scene from time to time.

“Thanks for the Memories,” Stan


Back when our youngest son was about six, he was inspired to give his birthday money to the station during pledge break and become a member himself. When we brought him in to make his donation, Robert McBride was so nice to him – showed him around the studio, answered his questions, even asked if he wanted to record a message (he was shy and passed on that). It became a birthday tradition that lasted for several years, and we tried to time our visits so he could say hello to his favorite hosts, Mr. McBride and Mr. Burk when he came in. Thank you for being the warm voice and face that he attached to the music.

Mark


I became hooked on radio broadcasts of classical music in the early 1990’s when Robert was doing a noontime show on OPB.  I was an itinerant school counselor for Clackamas County ESD driving between schools up in Molalla.  I would eat lunch and listen to Robert while driving to my next school.  What a welcome oasis of beauty his music and his commentaries brought me.

Best wishes on the next phase of your career, Robert!

Marcia


Robert’s program, Club Mod is perhaps my favorite…

Listener from day one, Dennis


Dear All Classical,

I was dismayed a while ago when I tuned in to listen to my favorite radio station in order to hear my favorite radio host, Robert McBride, and heard a different voice.  I hoped that he was only on vacation, but then I discovered that he is retiring.  Well earned by him, but how sad for folks like me who gained so much from him.

I was able to hear and experience his charm and wit and knowledge and musical sensitivity last night at the Symphony.  So many of us have remarked over the years about how all of the above traits have been expressed between Carlos and Robert in their conversations.  It is like we are overhearing a conversation in a Viennese Cafe, and feeling very blessed by it.  Only a few more months… sigh.

His physiognomy reminds me of an almost exact replica I once saw on a Grecian urn — a lover of truth and beauty.

All the best to him!

With gratitude and fondness, Diane


Robert, happy retirement! It’s Great.

It was a pleasure seeing you at the station and listening to you all these years. Good luck always!

Frank & Monica


I have been tuned in to Robert McBride since I lived in Wyoming and you began streaming online. A knowledgeable voice and calm presence in the midst of a crazy world. Love Club Mod — even on the nights when it kind of makes me shake my head!

Thanks for your work Robert.

Ann


I have been listening to All Classical now for a few years. I never liked, understood, or listened to classical music before that but I have found that I am falling in love with classical music by not only listening to the music as I drive but by the enthusiasm, knowledge, feelings of “personal friendship”, warm-heartedness, and mentoring I have been receiving and “catching” from wonderful hosts such as Robert McBride. He is truly a gem and a gift to listeners such as myself – and I will miss him greatly. But since I have been so enjoying retirement now for 17 years, I wish the same for him now. Thank you, Robert for your years of making the wonderful music so special to listeners like myself.

Roy


I’m sad that Robert McBride is retiring. He is by far my favorite male voice/host. He is truly a voice talent!!

Carolyn


It is very sad for me to hear that Robert will no longer be a daily presence on All Classical!

I first met Robert when he was working at OPB in the mid 90’s and hosted a great couple of hours of great eclectic music in the afternoon.  I was a volunteer for OPB and was organizing the radio reporters files. This was the time before the Internet became ubiquitous and most information was still contained by filing cabinets.

Somehow Robert had heard about my organizing skills and I was asked if I could cast up at his end of OPB and to sort of help organize his space… my first thought was, “how can this guy who has this great program and plays terrific music find anything here, like, what’s the system?”  So I set to work on the floor among the boxes of CD’s.  Robert left OPB not too long after for a position in New York.  Before he left, I had a telephone call, no words were spoken, but what I heard was the 2nd movement from Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto in A, for me the proof that God exists.  I was in tears.  It was, I think, Robert’s way of thanking me, and it could not have been better.

When Robert came back to Portland and to All Classical, my husband Peter and I were delighted. We have enjoyed his talks at the symphony, chamber concerts, and his daily presence on All Classical. Peter died on February 14, I donated in his memory that very day.  He would have been sad to hear that Robert will be leaving his daily stint.  I wish you well Robert, it has been a pleasure to hear your voice and enjoy your programming.

Lelde


Years ago one afternoon while driving through Woodburn,

I was listening to the 5th Symphony of Jean Sibelius. Once it concluded, Robert McBride classified it as being in his

top ten favorite works of the 20th century… I felt uplifted to have my own tastes intersect with his. My kind of host! Godspeed, Robert.

Patrick


I’ve much appreciated Robert McBride’s charm, humor and (slightly quirky) wit, so I am very sorry that his voice will be heard less and less on the radio.

I am especially worried about the future of Club Mod: will the show continue to air, with (hopefully) or without Robert McBride? Or shall some altogether new programming continue the (essential) task of showcasing modern and contemporary music on this station?

Regards, Philippe


Robert, I will miss your radio personality very much.

Pat


This is the curse of longevity – all one’s friends die and all one’s favorites in every possible field either retire or also die.

Robert has been my favorite ever I first listened to him many years ago, after moving to this blessed state… Please tell him that I wish him godspeed and may he enjoy the life to the fullest!

Malle


Robert,

When I was doing my old “Choral Classics” program on All Classical at the former location at Benson High School, it was a joy to talk with you often.  I was somewhat taken aback when you called me “Doctor,” as I’m not a doctor of anything, but a humble, old retired parish priest in the Episcopal Church who got bit by the radio-bug and volunteered to host the choral program.  Your art of programming is inimitable and I never got up the courage to ask you for help in that area.  “Aw, he’ll probably say ‘no way’ to me if I ask … or ‘Go away, don’t bother me!'”  Instead I settled for your friendship during that six years I hung around the studio, and hoped I didn’t get in your way.

Later, in the “new digs” by the river, I got to see you at work in the new, state-of-the-art studio.  And, of course, I have enjoyed your shows “Club Mod” and “Thursdays at Three”; I even attended one of the Thursdays when some members of the Bach Cantata Choir in which I still sing were performing on your program.  And I’ll always remember and be grateful to see you at the BCC concert at St Mary’s Church in Mount Angel a few years ago when the Portland Symphonic Choir performed the Rachmaninoff “Vespers.”  I sang with PSC then.

I’m sorry we won’t hear your dulcet tones on KQAC (I still want to say KBPS!) after you hang up your earphones.  You have contributed mightily to the whole thing, bringing the best in classical music to our ears wherever we are; and with your excellent programming skills to enhance it.

Peace be yours!

Phillip Ayers (Host of “Choral Classics” on All Classical, 2001-2007)


How I am already missing Robert!!

I moved to Beaverton in 1998 and, of course, started listening to All Classical immediately. For the past 17 years I have thoroughly enjoyed Robert’s hosting and his beautiful on-air voice.

Robert, we wish you all the best as you celebrate retirement. We will miss you more than words can describe!

Sincerely, Karen and Robert


I just saw that Robert will be retiring in March.  I am sorry about this and will miss him a lot. I have lived in a number of major cities (Boston, Philadelphia, San Francisco, New York) and have really not experienced anything like the quality of hosts and programming, community involvement, sincere commitment and love that All Classical represents. The truly unique aspect of the station hosts is their own careers and talents in the music we love. I wish Robert the best in whatever comes next and hope we will hear about his future endeavors from time to time.

Thank you to all involved. As you know, in these times All Classical is a refuge and therapy.

Judy, sustaining donor


I was fortunate, long ago, to spend an evening with Robert.  We were both at an “event” and I recall recognizing his voice.  He and our family shared a table and a very fun evening with fabulous food inspired by a movie.   I am sure there are current versions of THE BIG NIGHT celebrations out there, but as I recall, it was a delight to share the evening with Robert at Cozze on SE 12th and Morrison, one of the originals in the area to offer this celebration of the movie in a Portland area restaurant. Peter has since moved to Astoria and opened a Fulios, and more recently retired. I would like to “shout out” to both Peter Roscoe and Robert McBride to the memory, and to celebrating life, music, food and spontaneous encounters!

I am happy for Robert and his retirement, and I hope that he will stay in touch, but I do want him to know that listeners of All Classical will surely miss him on a daily basis.  His calm and inspiring voice, knowledge and love of music will be missed.

from google search: As part of the “Big Night” celebration, Peter Roscoe, chef and owner of Fulio’s Pastaria and Tuscan Steakhouse in Astoria, will be cooking a special “Big Night dinner.” When Big Night first premiered in 1996, Roscoe was inspired to host a weekly recreation’s of the film’s elaborate banquet meal at his Portland restaurant, Cozze. “It became a runaway hit for me,” Roscoe says. “Still to this day, I get people visiting Astoria who talk about those dinners.”

Peggy


Hi Robert,

We have been listening to AllClassical since moving to the Portland metro area in 2002. It may have been difficult to decide to leave the station. Being retired, I appreciate the freedom you may have after leaving… but, who knows what’s around the corner.

I met you briefly at a Michala Petri concert at Reed Collage, probably 2011 or 2012. It was enjoyable to experience, in person, the tremendous love and knowledge of classical music we have enjoyed for so many years.

Have also appreciated how comfortable you help other announcers feel when together during support drives. The station seems like a cast of very interesting characters who all love classical music, whom we enjoy every day.

Am sure you will have many well-wishers to read through. So here’s wishing enjoyment & success in any and all future adventures.

Best Regards, John and Carole


I am a classical buff been one for years and I just got word that Robert McBride will be probably retiring soon from 89.9 All Classical Portland. I will miss his work and everything that he has done for All Classical Portland. Still what a great wonderful person he is.

Sincerely, Tony


As a graduate of Beaverton High School, you may remember Mother Miles of Arrowwood Lane.  Yes, she is still alive at 101 and every night when we put her to bed, we put on All Classical because she wants to Listen to Robert!  Thank you for entertaining her (and me since I returned home from New Zealand).  Enjoy your partial retirement.  I have also just re-retired.   It’s hard to stop!   All the best for a fun and creative retirement and we look forward to seeing you at the June Luncheon for the Golden Grads!

Cheers, Kathie, class of 1960 BHS


Dear Robert, you brought me to All Classical with your beautiful voice and presence on the air.  Once hooked, I began to learn from your wisdom and enthusiasm, and looked forward to hearing you every day. Though you have surely earned what I hope will be a happy and rich retirement, I will miss you more than I can say. All the best to you!

Terri, sustaining donor


I’m sorry to read that Robert McBride is retiring.  I got to know him on the All Classical tour of Scotland and Ireland in October of 2016.  He is such a nice man, and he has the best radio voice.

First Robert Siegel, now Robert McBride?  I hope there are younger people with mellifluous radio voices.

Sincerely, Isaac


I am 87 years old and have listened to classical music since the age of 5. It still captures my soul, even more so than ever before.

To Mr. McBride, I’ll only say that you truly are near the top of my list of the best of all the pros I have heard in Chicago, Los Angeles, Denver, and Portland. You are a tremendous educator, enchanting conversationalist, and spirited explorer in the world of classical music. Thank you! You will be missed by all your listeners and co-workers.

What an honor for you to carry with you! Have a safe and healthy retirement, Robert.

Sincerely yours, Robert


I have been listening to Robert McBride for decades, and his retirement feels like losing a friend. His insights into music, humor on the air, and company throughout the day is sorely missed. Among his other contributions, as the founding host of Thursdays @ Three, Robert brought something new, wonderful, and lasting to All Classical. Good luck Robert. Enjoy your retirement! And thank you for being such a big part of my life and the lives of so many others in Portland and around the world.

Laure


That is sad news. His calm demeanor and playful banter with Christa in the morning will be missed. I’ve moved to Los Angeles and haven’t been able to listen in quite so often, but he was a kind presence on your station for the ten years I listened. Thank you, Robert. May your retirement be a blessing and peaceful.

David


I am so sad that Robert McBride is retiring.  He is my favorite voice on the station.  His mother was right.  I believe she said he belonged on the radio.

Linda


I discovered KQAC and Robert McBride half a decade ago or so while working in a law office. I remember Robert’s on-air appreciation of James DePreist after the conductor’s passing, and I was so moved by his tribute that I emailed to thank him. In the years since, I’ve listened often when I could to his daily shifts behind the microphone. Alas, I came late to Club Mod, which I have tremendously enjoyed these last few months. I will be listening to the finale on Saturday.

I offer my best wishes to him and thank him and All Classical Portland for the many hours of pleasure you have provided.

Best wishes in retirement, Michael


Congratulations to Robert!  Glad to hear he’ll still be helming the Club Mod show (for a little while) and hope he finds many other avenues in the Portland scene.

Tom


The following dedications were made to Robert McBride during All Classical Portland’s recent Lovefest Fundraiser:

 

Peggy in North Portland: “to Robert McBride, and all the staff”

 

Barre in SW Portland: “Honoring Robert McBride. Missing him already!”

 

Ginger in Vancouver: “THIS IS DEDICATED TO ROBERT MCBRIDE.”

 

Lynne in NE Portland: “For Robert McBride. To say that I will miss him on the air, is inadequate. BUT, I will carry forward his gift for appreciating music. Robert’s ability to communicate his own well-informed knowledge through his own personal expression has given me access to the music at a deeper level. Thank you, Robert”

 

Bill in NE Portland: “Our donation is dedicated to Robert McBride whom we have enjoyed listening to for *many* years. We wish him a very happy retirement. And Jan and I are celebrating 52 years of being together. Wahoo! Bill”

 

Janyce in NE Portland: “I have been missing Robert McBride. I am going to miss him after his retirement. This donation is in his honor. Whenever I donate, someone usually calls to say thank you. That is very unusual. I appreciate those calls. It is a very nice personal touch. Yesterday, I wanted to find out why Robert was no longer on the air. I went to your website. It was incredible to read the bios of everyone and see their faces. The backgrounds you all have are very impressive. The whimsy you include about your lives are great details as well.”

 

Merrit in Milwaukie: “I give this in honor of Robert McBride, who helped get this broken-down, grumpy, old, EX-mailman through some long afternoons the last 8 years of my career. Happy Retirement, Robert!”

 

Nancy in SW Portland: “Dedicated, of course, to Robert McBride. -sniffle”

Image of William Levi Dawson courtesy of the African American Registry.

Black History Month: William Levi Dawson

In our third installment for Black History Month, we turn to William Levi Dawson (1899-1990), a renowned African-American composer, choir director, and professor. Dawson wrote chamber music, orchestral music, and choral music, and is best known for his arrangements of African American spirituals. Through all the forms he worked with, Dawson consistently incorporated African American themes and melodies into his music. In both his work and teaching, Dawson stressed that while African American musical heritage was key to many developments in jazz and jazz-derived music, it didn’t need to be limited to just these popular forms.

Dawson’s life took a multifaceted and variegated path, but education always remained his primary dedication. Born in Anniston, Alabama, Dawson ran away from home at the age of 13 to attend the Tuskegee Institute. There, he sang in the choir, played trombone in the college band, and started composing at age 16. After graduating in 1921, Dawson went on to study composition at the Horner Institute of Fine Arts in Kansas City, where he convinced the then all-white school to allow him to earn his BA through one-on-one tutoring sessions. Dawson later earned his master’s degree in composition from the American Conservatory of Music in Chicago. Dawson began teaching in the Kansas City public school system, and in 1930 was invited back as a professor at the Tuskegee Institute, where he played an integral role in founding the music school. There, Dawson also developed the Tuskegee Institute Choir, which became an internationally acclaimed ensemble, performing tours around the U.S. after their initial invitation to sing at New York City’s Radio Music Hall in 1932.

I talked to Dr. Gwynne K. Brown, Associate Professor of Music History at the University of Puget Sound, who is carrying out research on Dawson. Dr. Brown, currently writing a book on Dawson’s life and works for the American Composers Series published by University of Illinois Press, commented that a major theme for thinking about Dawson is the centrality of education in his life. As Dr. Brown describes: “He ran away from home as a young teenager to attend Tuskegee Institute, and he left a promising career as a trombonist in Chicago to return to Tuskegee in 1930 and create a school of music there. He was a devoted teacher and mentor to many young black musicians. He knew that the rigorous training he could provide, along with helping them to develop their self-discipline and resilience and ambition, he could help make sure that their talents and potential wouldn’t go to waste in a society that was ready to undervalue and discourage them. After he resigned from Tuskegee in 1955 he spent more than three decades sharing his knowledge and musicianship with young musicians of all races all over the country.” 

Indeed, after Dawson retired from teaching at Tuskegee in 1956, he spent much of his time conducting choral festivals and leading workshops around the world. Dawson was deeply committed to his art and had high standards for the students he worked with. In Dawson’s rehearsal notes for members of the All-Eastern Division Chorus in the 1961 Music Educators National Convention, he writes: “There will be no time to teach notes, rhythms, or pronunciations. All rehearsal time will be needed for fine points of performance such as interpretation, style and polish. Start learning now!” As a conductor Dawson asked for precision and attention to detail from his choirs. What set Dawson apart from other teachers, however, was his dedication to educating his choirs on the historical legacy and the proper singing techniques of the genre of spirituals. We’ll explore Dawson’s spirituals here, but first, let’s explore one of Dawson’s most well-known pieces for orchestra: his Negro Folk Symphony.

 

Listening to Dawson: The Negro Folk Symphony

 

One of Dawson’s keystone works is his Negro Folk Symphony, a significant yet largely unacknowledged contribution to the development of the American symphony. The Negro Folk Symphony was premiered in 1934 by the Philadelphia Orchestra with Leopold Stokowski conducting. It was Dawson’s aim to “to write a symphony in the Negro folk idiom, based on authentic folk music but in the same symphonic form used by the composers of the [European] romantic-nationalist school.” Inspired by Antonín Dvořák’s views towards nationalism in music, Dawson wanted his symphony to shed light on the African American voice, highlighting the music of his neighbors and ancestors alike in rural Alabama and the segregated South. Later in 1952, after a recent trip to West Africa, Dawson revised the piece to include more African rhythms, stating a desire to convey “the missing elements that were lost when Africans came into bondage outside their homeland.”

The Negro Folk Symphony sounds akin to late-Romantic orchestral music in terms of overall shape and instrumentation. However, as musicologist John Andrew Johnson describes, “Each of its three movements, while cast in a traditional form, is ultimately not controlled by these predetermined structures; rather, a continuous process of variation and development shapes its course.” Each movement has its own subtitle: “The Bond of Africa,” “Hope in the Night” and ”O, le’ me shine, shine like a Morning Star!” Dawson weaves characteristic melodies from African American folk songs and spirituals throughout each movement. While the piece can be appreciated without previous familiarity with the melodies or underlying background, there are strong programmatic elements in the piece that tie in with the titles of the movements.

 

 

The first movement, for example, “The Bond of Africa,” contains two related main themes. The first theme is original material by Dawson and represents the “missing link” from “a human chain when the first African was taken from the shores of his native land and sent into slavery.” The second theme, initially heard in the oboes, is based on the folk song ”Oh, m’ Lit’l’ Soul Gwine-A Shine.” Dawson incorporates some distinct techniques for programmatic effects in the second movement, as well. Tolling bells bring about an atmosphere of grief and lament, with a background of pizzicato strings representing the lives of slaves in bondage. Three gong strokes denote the Trinity, a symbol of hope guiding man through the night. In the third movement of the Negro Folk Symphony, Dawson takes on a lighter perspective. Here, he incorporates two African American melodies, “O Le’ Me Shine, Le’ Me Shine Lik’ A Mornin’ Star” and “Hallelujah, Lord, I Been Down Into the Sea” to illustrate a scene of children playing, unmoored by the despair of their slave heritage.

The Negro Folk Symphony is one of Dawson’s seminal achievements as a composer, but it remains relatively unknown today. In asking Dr. Brown about aspects of Dawson’s career that often go underappreciated or unacknowledged, she expressed to me that “many of Dawson’s choral works are routinely performed by high school and college and church choirs, so his legacy in that regard is firmly established. I do wish that more people had a chance to hear his Negro Folk Symphony. It is an American masterpiece. In my view, it should be in heavy rotation in the repertoire alongside the symphonies of Florence Price and William Grant Still. Every other time an American orchestra is about to program a symphony by Dvorak, they should stop and choose Dawson’s instead, or one of Price’s or Still’s.” (Stay tuned for our next post, which will kick off Woman’s History Month by featuring the works of Florence Price as well as several other noteworthy women composers).

All Classical will be featuring Dawson’s Negro Folk Symphony on the air this Sunday (2/25) at about 6:30pm, so be sure to tune in then!

 

Dawson’s Spirituals

 

As Dr. Brown mentioned above, Dawson’s arrangements of spirituals remain popular among choirs. Songs including “Ain’-a That Good News,” “King Jesus is a-Listening,” and “I’ve Been Buked,” are regularly performed and recorded by choirs around the world. Dawson’s love for African American folk music emerged from a young age, having heard them in church, local concerts, and at home. Dawson spent hours playing with folk melodies, creating idiomatic settings that make full use of the human voice and adding new rhythmic elements to them.

African American spirituals themselves originated in slave plantations, where singing was the only way slaves could express themselves musically. Slaves often sang at religious gatherings, which served for slaves as a conduit of free expression. It was the intention of white masters to use religion as a means of controlling slaves, with preachers brought into plantations to preach to slaves on the “evils” of running away or disobeying masters. However, religion became an important means for slaves to speak out against their oppression and for hopes of freedom. In both their religious gatherings and in work settings, slaves imbued their songs with code words that allowed them to communicate messages to each other without the masters’ knowledge. The word “home,” for example, was an expression of yearning to escape and live in a free land. A chariot or train represented the means of traveling home. (Songs such as “Gospel Train” and “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” were references to the Underground Railroad). Crossing the Jordan River referred to crossing the Ohio River and into the North, where freedom could be found.

Dawson’s arrangements of traditional African American spirituals are classified as “concert” spirituals. The concert spiritual began with the 1871 tour of the Fisk Jubilee Singers of Fisk University, who gave performances across the country to raise funds for the school. The primary material this group used for their concerts were formal settings of traditional slave melodies, but sung in a style associated with European art music. Unlike anonymous and improvisatory folk song spirituals, concert spirituals are crafted, written-down pieces intended to be performed by classically-trained voices. One might compare the African American spiritual to European counterparts such as the French chanson, the German lied, the English lute song, and the Italian madrigal. Spirituals are generally intended for non-religious concert performances rather than sacred use in church services, but they can have religious texts or deal with religious subjects.

During the time Dawson was emerging as a young composer, professional touring ensembles from historical black colleges were beginning to face struggles due to budget retractions from the Depression and changing music fashions in pre-World War II America. Dawson’s Tuskegee Choir, which he led from 1931-55, brought about a resurgence in popularity for spirituals. Dawson’s arrangements were unique in that they brought a more vigorous style of singing to spirituals. There is a sense of rhythmic momentum in arrangements like Ezekiel saw de wheelEv’ry Time I feel the spirit, and Ain’-a That Good News! that recall the tradition of slaves singing in a ring shout. Ring shouts, often performed by slaves after the conclusion of a regular worship service, was an expression of their African roots. Men and women arranged themselves in a ring, dancing in a circle at a faster and faster pace until individuals reached an ecstatic state and dropped out in exhaustion. In Dawson’s arrangements, the rhythmic energy accumulates in a similar way, with richly voiced extended harmonies closing out each phrase in ecstatic jubilance.

Spirituals, including Dawson’s are typically performed with a distinctively Southern diction. Early composers of spirituals would often write the lyrics in the actual regional dialect. For example, ending consonants are softened, and final “r” consonants are modified to “h” (“over,” for instance, becomes “ovah”). This may have looked disrespectful to a performer in the post-Civil Rights era. Ultimately, however, composers incorporated this diction in their settings with intent of preserving and celebrating the unique quality of speech of a unique group of people in unique place and time. Commenting on a paper she wrote entitled “The Serious Spirituals of William L. Dawson,” Dr. Brown described to me how Dawson “crafted his choral spirituals with incredible care to make sure that they wouldn’t be performed or interpreted as humorous. Thanks to the legacy of blackface minstrelsy, there was a tendency in the early 20th century for white audiences to perceive all black music-making as comical. It’s fascinating to see Dawson’s strategic defusing of that danger through the way he handled spirituals in his compositions. He really valued the religious folk song heritage of his enslaved ancestors, and he cared both that they be taken seriously by white audiences, and that they not be abandoned by African American musicians who felt the songs were too demeaned to be worth saving.”

”I have never doubted the possibilities of our music,” Dawson once told an interviewer. Dawson’s works bridged the gap between listeners, having been known and loved by black and white audiences alike. If you are eager to jump into Dawson’s sound world, listed below are some suggested recordings of his orchestral and choral works:

Still: Symphony No. 2, Dawson: Negro Folk Symphony / Detroit Symphony Orchestra
Contains Dawson’s Negro Folk Symphony

Steal Away: The African American Concert Spiritual / Seraphic Fire, Patrick Dupré Quigley, Piano and Conductor
Contains Dawson’s arrangements Ev’ry Time I Feel the Spirit and There is a Balm in Gilead

 

The Glory of the Father / Washington County Chorale, Bernd R. Kuehn, Conductor
Contains Dawson’s Ain’-A That Good News

 

References

  1. Brown, Gwynne K. Personal Interview. 17 Feb 2018.
  2. Emory University, “A Life’s Journey,” William Levi Dawson: The Collection at Emory, 18 Jan 2008. Web. Accessed 12 Feb 2018. http://wayback.archive-it.org/6324/20130124150530/http://larson.library.emory.edu/dawson/web/
  3. Huff, Vernon Edward. “William Levi Dawson: An Examination of Selected Letters, Speeches, and Writings.” Arizona State University, Doctoral dissertation. May 2013. Web. Accessed 20 Feb 2018. https://repository.asu.edu/attachments/110287/content/Huff_asu_0010E_12647.pdf
  4. Lloyd, Thomas. “A History of the African-American Spiritual: Dawson and the Emergence of Large Mized Choirs in the Historical Black Colleges.” Bucks County Choral Society. Aug 2004. Web. Accessed 12 Feb 2018. http://www.buckschoral.org/news-and-archives/resources/spiritual-history/chapter-11/
  5. Pratt, Micheal. “The African-American Spiritual and its African Roots” Music for the Soul. 3 Sept 2009. Accessed 12 Feb 2018. https://michaelpratt.wordpress.com/2009/09/03/the-african-american-spiritual-and-its-african-roots/
  6.  Quigley, Patrick Dupré. Steal Away: The African American Concert Spiritual / Seraphic Fire, Patrick Dupré Quigley, Piano and Conductor. CD liner notes.
  7. “William Levi Dawson, African American Composer & Professor.” AfriClassical.com. 1 Jan 2016. Web. Accessed 12 Feb 2018. https://chevalierdesaintgeorges.homestead.com/Dawson.html
  8. “William L. Dawson, Composer, 90.” The New York Times. 4 May 1990. Web. Accessed 20 Feb 2018. http://www.nytimes.com/1990/05/04/obituaries/william-l-dawson-composer-90.html

Rachel Barton Pine: Elgar and Bruch Violin Concertos

American violinist Rachel Barton Pine practically grew up with the Bruch Violin Concerto No.1; in her conversation with me about her new CD, Pine says that the Bruch was her first “grown up” concerto, after having learned Bach and Mozart.  Though Pine has explored the full landscape of classical repertoire for her instrument, this is her first recording of Bruch’s concerto.  Less surprising, perhaps, is that this is also her first Elgar recording.  Although Elgar’s monumental work is getting more play these days, it’s still a piece that hovers just outside the standard repertoire.  Pine’s contribution might help improve its standing even more.  She had input from Sir Neville Marriner (just a few months before his death in 2016), and Sir Neville’s teacher was Billy Reed, who advised Elgar during composition.  So, Ms. Pine felt a sense of continuity that traces back to the composer.  More importantly, through her usual excellent research and immersive rehearsal, Pine has drawn out some of the personal expression that Elgar wove into his very detailed score.  Bruch and Elgar may seem like an unusual pairing, but not for Pine:  having listened to Yehudi Menuhin’s recording of the works for so many years, to her it’s natural.

Elgar & Bruch: Violin ConcertosPine, Litton, BBC Symphony Orchestra
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The Canvas of Silence

Here at All Classical Portland, we have our own library of CDs which we draw from to use in our day-to-day radio programming. However, rather than playing these CDs directly on the radio, volunteers first burn each CD into our hard drives, where we can use them on-air  in the form of .wav files. One of my current tasks as an intern is to edit .wav files of pieces that have been burned into the computer but are still not quite ready for air play. Using a music editing software, I listen to each piece and edit the amount of silence that occurs before a piece starts, after it ends, and between movements of pieces like concertos and symphonies. This task is important because there are often up to four or five seconds of silence before sound starts on a CD track. I edit each piece to begin with just the right amount of pause for the radio host to press play after announcing the piece, and set the stage for the start of the music.

 

Measuring the moments of silence that bookend a piece got me thinking about the crucial role that silence plays in our experience of listening to classical music. Music, of course, is made up of sounds, but it is also characterized by the silences that happen between the sounds. The silence that takes place within a piece of music can create profound effects – effects of surprise, humor, fear, or a sense of expanded time and space. Sometimes these moments of silence are tiny, even unnoticeable to a listener. Other times, they can interrupt the flow of music and shock a listener into a new level of awareness. Throughout the history of classical music, many composers have realized that silence can be just as expressive as sound, holding different philosophies towards their use of silence as a tool to create different effects on the listener. Let’s explore some of those effects here.   

  

Silence as Surprise: Joseph Haydn, String Quartet Op. 33 No. 2, “The Joke,” IV. Presto (1781) 

 

 

 

Haydn’s music is filled with humor and wit, and one of his common tricks is to manipulate silence in his pieces, which deliberately thwarts listeners’ expectations of what will happen next within his otherwise predictable and logically organized forms. One of Haydn’s more famous uses of silences occurs at the end of his second opus 33 string quartet, nicknamed “the Joke.”   

 

The final movement, “Presto,” has a rondo form, containing a recurring main melody that alternates with contrasting themes. Haydn’s main melody is a buoyant tune comprised of four two-measure phrases. After several variations on the theme and a slower Adagio passage, Haydn starts up the theme again in its original form to close out the piece. This is where the “joke” of the piece happens – Haydn now splits up the tune into its four smaller components, with a two-bar rest between each one. When the melody finally ends, the piece appears to be over. Unsuspecting audience members might start to applaud, only to stop in confusion when the music starts back up again after a four-measure rest. The quartet plays the first half of the melody, but fails to finish out the phrase, leaving the audience hanging in suspense. As an uncertain and awkwardly hilarious silence fills the hall, the audience breathes out in relief and laughter as the quartet finally sets their bows down.   

 

Silence as Release: Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings (1936) 

 

 

 

In contrast to the Haydn example above, silence can also be used for the opposite effect, creating a moment of space, relieving the audience and releasing tension built up after sound has said all it can possibly say. One example of silence as an act of release can be found in Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings, which was originally composed as an Adagio movement in his String Quartet, Op. 11. The piece outlines an arc that travels from hushed sadness to intense grieving, and finally back to silence. The entirety of the 8-minute work develops out of a stepwise melody stated at the start of the piece. The music progressively builds in intensity via denser textures, stronger dynamics, and ascending registers in the strings.   

 

 At one point, the intensity reaches such a level of agonized pain that the strings appear unable to go any further, stuck on a note in the melody that gets louder and louder until it is thrown off into complete silence, creating a climax of emotional catharsis. (This moment happens at about 5:23-6:05 in the above recording by the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, but I recommend listening to the whole piece for the full effect). Echoes of the climax note are left resonating in the empty space before the strings begin again in a quiet understatement, slowly dying away to the end of the piece with a new sense of peace and resignation. One of our hosts here at All Classical Portland, Christa Wessel, often says on air that classical music can serve as a “respite from the ruckus of the world.” The impact of this silence in Barber’s Adagio for Strings, a moment to sigh and catch one’s breath, is one of those magical places of respite you can enter into that can never be explained completely by words.   

 

Silence as Interval: Toru Takemitsu’s The Dorian Horizon (1966) 

 

 

The silence in Barber’s Adagio for Strings serves as a turning point, marking a moment between the climax of the piece the gradual descent to the end. This notion of silence as an interval between two events was key to the compositional technique of Toru Takemitsu (1930-1996), a Japanese composer known for his works which synthesized Western classical forms and experimental 20th century techniques with traditional Eastern sounds and instruments.  

 

Takemitsu was skilled in subtlety manipulating orchestral colors using unusual percussion, electronics, spatial arrangements of instruments, and silence, imbuing music with a sensuality he believed it had lost. Takemitsu’s use of silence in particular was heavily informed by the Japanese aesthetic of maMa is an everyday word from the Japanese language that incorporates various meaning of space and time – the space between two structural parts, the gap between two events in time. Ma is a type of emptiness, an interval of in-between, or a negative space. Ma can be seen in various aspects of Japanese culture, such as the deliberate pause at the end of a bow before coming back up, or the honoring of pauses and silence in conversation. Ma is a core concept underlying Japanese art forms, including architecture, gardens, sumi-e brush painting, and Noh theater. For music, Ma is the silence between all notes.   

 

The empty space of ma is not a void, but an energy filled with possibility. This sense of possibility can be heard in the silences of Takemitsu’s 1966 piece The Dorian Horizon. The Dorian Horizon is a collage of varying orchestral textures, some dissonant and grating, some soft and gentle. Each sound event is separated in space and time by intervals of silence or near silence. Sometimes this silence is absolute, creating a sense of space and sparseness. Other times, the silence is colored with deep ominous drones in the cello and bass, creating an atmosphere of claustrophobia and unease. In his own writings, Takemitsu defined ma as “the powerful silence.” Throughout The Dorian Horizon, it is the silences from which the events of sound arise, more than harmony or form, that create a sense of tension and resolution.  

 

Silence as Sound: John Cage’s 4’33 (1952) 

 

 

Early on in Takemitsu’s career as a composer, he was preoccupied with absorbing Western European orchestral music into his idiom. In his later years, however, Takemitsu found himself returning to experimentation with Japanese instruments and music styles. He credited this return in part to his contact with John Cage, who’s own artistic philosophy was greatly influenced by Japanese art and thought.   

 

One cannot discuss silence in music without addressing John Cage, who proposed the radical notion that there is no such thing as silence. Cage expressed his artistic philosophy through his compositions, but also through a series of essays and performative lectures throughout his life which are summarized in his book Silence: Lectures and Writings. As Cage describes in Silence, artists have always wanted their work to mean something, to do something. Cage, rather, aspired to be meaningless through his work. For Cage, that idea that art is useless and it expresses nothing is the very source of its strength. He declares in his “Lecture on Nothing,” “I have nothing to say and I am saying it and that is poetry as I need it.”   

 

Silence, in a way, became Cage’s symbol of this profound meaninglessness. Arguably Cage’s most famous (or infamous) work is his 4’33”, a three-movement work composed in 1952. 4’33”‘s score consists of three blank pages. The performer is instructed not to play their instrument throughout all three movements, which are to be timed with a stopwatch. Such a concept may seem like a gimmick, but unlike Haydn’s motivations in his Op. 33 quartet, Cage did not intend for 4’33” to be treated as a joke. 4’33” is a piece comprised entirely of silence – or is it? Without any notes to latch onto, the listener starts to become aware of the sounds in the environment around them – the uncomfortable rustling of clothes, the ever-present hum of the air conditioning, the traffic outside, even the thoughts running through their head.  According to Cage-ian scholar Kyle Gann, 4’33” represents “an act of framing, of enclosing environmental and unintended sounds in a moment of attention in order to open the mind to the fact that all sounds are music.” And indeed, in a recollection of the premiere, Cage describes: “You could hear the wind stirring outside during the first movement. During the second, raindrops began pattering the roof, and during the third people themselves made all kinds of interesting sounds as they talked or walked out.” Through the conduit of silence, Cage gave countless musicians and performers permission to go beyond the limitations of standard instrumentation and embrace all sounds as music.   

 

 After the Last Note 

 

One of my favorite moments to experience in classical music concerts is witnessing the very last note of a piece. As the final chord hangs in the air, the reverberations gradually dissipate through the concert hall. In that moment before the applause, it is as if the entire audience is holding their breath together in suspense and awe. Each listener was taken on a different emotional journey while listening to the piece just played, but in this moment everyone has arrived in the same place. Then, as the conductor lowers their baton, there is sudden exhale of relief. The hall once again resonates with life; this time not with the tones of instruments, but with the warm rush of applause and elated “bravos.”   

 

Even though the radio is not quite the same as a live concert, I feel that the hosts at All Classical are also sensitive to this special moment after a piece ends. When I edit the length of silence at the end of a piece, it is my job to create a fade out with a generous six seconds of silence after the last note ends. This gives the radio host the freedom to let the resonance of the last sounds and the emotional weight of the piece settle in with the listener before announcing the conclusion of the piece and moving on to the next track of the day’s program.  

 

By holding that precious space of silence with their listeners before speaking again, an All Classical host acts like the conductor in a concert, holding the baton up in the air before lowering it as a signal of finality, welcoming in applause from the audience. While everyone listens and experiences the station in their own way, I often personally feel that when listening to radio I am not truly listening alone. Rather, I am listening simultaneously with thousands of other people also tuned into the station.  Maybe this is why when a piece ends on All Classical I get that same feeling of shared suspense and relief as I experience in concerts.  

 

 

In the concert hall, on the radio, and in our daily lives, where does the sound end, and when does the silence begin? Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky died only nine days after the premiere of his Sixth Symphony, the “Pathetique.”* Like the man himself, the end of the final movement fades away into complete silence. In the last few measures, the only sounds come from muted cellos and basses playing a low, deep B minor chord and sounding as if coming from some distant, far-off place. In the last measure of the symphony, Tchaikovsky places a rest sign with a fermata (a musical “pause”). The piece concludes in open-ended silence, merging in with the ambience of the concert hall and the energy of the audience members. When does the piece end, and when does life begin again? The conductor lowers their arms, but a heaviness remains.  

 

How do you experience silence in classical music? Let us know by emailing intern@allclassical.org 

*The Oregon Symphony will be performing Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony, along with Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in Salem on Friday, February 9 at 8:00pm at the Smith Auditorium anin Portland on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, February 10, 11, and 12 all at 7:30pm at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall. Visit the OSO website for details and tickets 

 

References 

  1. “Adagio for Strings.” The Kennedy Center. Web. Accessed 7 Feb 2018. http://www.kennedy-center.org/artist/composition/3215  
  2. Canning, Donna. “Ma.” Unique Japan. Web. Accessed 7 Feb 2018. http://new.uniquejapan.com/ikebana/ma/  
  3. Davis, Ian. “Loud Silence and Quiet Sound: The Illuminating Music of Toru Takemitsu.” Flypaper. 20 Oct 2016. Web. Accessed 7 Feb 2018. https://flypaper.soundfly.com/discover/loud-silence-quiet-sound-the-illuminating-music-of-toru-takemitsu/  
  4. Kaye, Colin. “Classical Connections: The Sound of Silence.” Pattaya mail. 23 Sept 2015. Web. Accessed 7 February 2018. http://www.pattayamail.com/arts-entertainment/classical-connections-the-sound-of-silence-51527  
  5. Reel, James. “Franz Joseph Haydn: String Quartet No. 30 in E flat major (“Joke”), Op. 33/2, H. 3/38.” AllMusic.com. Web. Accessed 7 Feb 2018. https://www.allmusic.com/composition/string-quartet-no-30-in-e-flat-major-joke-op-33-2-h-3-38-mc0002369852  
  6. Ross, Alex. “Searching for Silence: John Cage’s art of noise.” The New Yorker. 4 Oct 2010. Web. Accessed 25 Jan 2018.  https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/10/04/searching-for-silence   
  7. Ross, Alex. “Toward Silence: The intense repose of Toru Takemitsu.” The New Yorker. 5 Feb 2007. Web. Accessed 7 Feb 2018. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2007/02/05/toward-silence  
  8. Swafford, Jan. “Silence Is Golden: How a pause can be the most devastating effect in music.” Slate.com. 31 Aug 2009. Web. Accessed 25 Jan 2018.  http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/music_box/2009/08/silence_is_golden.html   
  9. “The most crushing, perfectly placed silences in classical music.” Classic FM. 15 Jan 2016. Web. Accessed 25 Jan 2018.  http://www.classicfm.com/discover-music/latest/best-silences-in-music/   
  10. “Toru Takemitsu.” Encyclopaedia Britannica. Web. Accessed 7 Feb 2018. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Takemitsu-Toru 

Recommended Recordings for Black History Month

All Classical Portland celebrates Black History Month during the month of February, featuring some of the best recordings of composers of African origin (American, and around the world). Here are some recommended recordings of music by black composers, musicians, and conductors. If you purchase any of the music below using the Archivmusic.com links we have provided, All Classical’s programming receives a small portion from the sales. Happy listening!

But Not Forgotten – Clarinet Music by African American Composers / Marcus Eley, clarinet, Lucerne DeSa, piano – includes music by Dorothy Rudd Moore, Alvin Batiste, Clarence Cameron White, Undine Smith Moore, and more.

Violin Concertos By Black Composers / Barton, Hege, Encore Chamber Orchestra – includes music by Joseph Bologne Chevalier de Saint-Georges, Joseph White, Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, and Chevalier De Meude-Monpas.

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor: Chamber Music / Kelly Burke, clarinet, John Fadial, violin – includes Coleridge-Taylor’s Quintet for Clarinet and Strings in F Sharp minor, African Dances for Violin and Piano, and Nonet in F minor.

American Classics – Edmond Dédé / Richard Rosenberg, Hot Springs Music Festival Symphony Orchestra – includes Edmond Dédé’s ChicagoMerliton fin de siècleRêverie champêtre, and more.

Ellington: Black, Brown & Beige / Jo Ann Falletta, Buffalo Philharmonic – Includes Ellington’s  Black, Brown and Beige Suite, Harlem, Three Black Kings, and more.

Hailstork: An American Port Of Call / JoAnn Falletta, Virginia Symphony – Includes Hailstork’s Symphony No. 1, Launch Out On Endless Seas, Fanfare on “Amazing Grace,” and more.

Joplin: The Complete Rags, Waltzes & Marches / William Appling, piano – An extensive of Joplins ragtime pieces, including Sugar Cane, The Cascades, Bink’s Waltz, and more.

Still: Summerland / Susan Dewitt Smith, piano, Alexa Still, flute / New Zealand Quartet Includes William Grant Stills’s  Prelude for Flute, String Quintet and Piano, Pastorela, Folk Suite No. 1, and more. (Note from John Pitman: Susan Dewitt Smith is from Portland, and has been featured on our Thursdays @ Three program!)

Still: La Guiablesse, Danzas Da Panama / Jackson, Still, Berlin Symphoniker – Includes three of John Pitman’s favorites:  Danzas de Panama, Summerland and Quit Dat Fool’nish.

Samuel Coleridge Taylor, and Fela Sowande / Chicago Sinfonietta/Paul Freeman, cond. – features Fela Sowande’s beautiful African Suite for Strings.

American Classics – Dreamer – A Portrait Of Langston Hughes / W.G. Still, Margaret Bonds – Includes Bonds’s The Negro Speaks of Rivers, Kurt Weill’s Street Scene: Lonely House, and more.

Imani Winds – Includes pieces by Jeff Scott, Ravel, Piazzolla, Mongo Santamaria, and Umoja, a piece by Imani Wind’s flutist Valerie Coleman. (Note from John Pitman: One of their first recordings, and still of favorite here at All Classical Portland.)

George Walker:  Lyric for Strings / Paul Freeman, Chicago Sinfonietta – Includes pieces by composers Ulysses S. Kay, George Walker, Roque Cordero, Adolphus Hailstork, and more.

Florence Beatrice Price:  Dances in the Canebrakes / Althea Waites, piano – Includes pieces by William Grant Still, Margaret Bonds, Ed Bland, and Florence Beatrice Price.

Obo Addy: Our Beginning / Kronos Quartet – includes pieces by Dumisani Maraire, Hassan Hakmoun, Foday Musa Suso, Lawrence JKS Tamusuza, Obo Addy, and more. (Note from John Pitman: Obo Addy taught music at Lewis & Clark College prior to his death in 2012.)

Do you have any other favorite classical music recordings by black composers or musicians? Email us at intern@allclassical.org to let us know!

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