Last night I was at Herbst Theater for the San Francisco Contemporary Music Players Emerging Composer Grant Program Round 2 Open Readings, a concert which was free & open to the public, held in cooperation with the ArtZenter Emerging Composers Grant Program. As far as I know, which admittedly isn't all that far, this ArtZenter Program is new (& very welcome); established by Tony Magee of The Lagunitas Brewing Company, it is designed to fund "the creation of new music by emerging composers that explores the power and grace of the traditional orchestral ensemble". As Magee put it in his remarks before the second half of the concert, he is hoping to discover "the next John Adams at 25". Six new scores were performed by the excellent orchestra, conducted by SFCMP Artistic Director Eric Dudley. The six composers were there & each spoke briefly before his or her piece.
I will note, irrelevantly, that I've always disliked the term "emerging" as applied to artists. It conjures up gummy, half-formed larval butterflies semi-emerged from their sticky sheaths. But that state of transformation & surprising development is characteristic of all artists throughout their entire artistic lives. Artistry is not static or stagnant. What are these composers "emerging" from? I assume the answer is really "obscurity", but that's classifying them in an art-world hierarchy that doesn't offer much insight into their art. They know who they are, as do their friends, families, & colleagues. They are, I'm sure, conscious that they're still developing, but already they're at a certain kind of peak, with achievements ready to be unveiled to the public. What I'll loosely & arrogantly call "serious art music", especially of the new variety, is already so marginalized in the United States (not to speak of other cultures) that any resplendently "emerged" fame needs to be seen in perspective (I've referred to the aforementioned John Adams & Nixon in China to educated professionals & received nothing but blank stares in return). I suppose "emerging" is better than "young", though the program did give us the birth years of the composers.
Anyway: I shouldn't carp about the name of an excellent & generous project, one which resulted in an excellent & generous concert. The first piece was Eye of the Earth by Yeoul Choi; she based it on three poems by her father, Minsik Choi, who had always wanted to be a poet though he ended up in a very different (unnamed) profession. The poems were given in the program in the original Korean as well as English translation; the first, I am the Wind, led to an initially soft & reedy sweep of sound that soon developed muscular force as it swept on, leading directly into the other two sections, Cosmic Dust & That Person Is. . . This piece struck me as very well balanced & just the right length. Second was Her Dress Waves by Craig Peeslee; waves plays off the use of the term in physics, as well as conjuring up a more seductive image of a woman's dress ruffled by a summer breeze (the Her who owns the dress is undescribed & was not mentioned by the composer in his notes or his talk). Peaslee mentioned that he was trying for a rippling spatial effect similar to that found on some stereo recordings (he mentioned Pink Floyd, but that's lost on me). He suggested that those in the center of the auditorium would experience the effect better. I was off to the side (I had been more centrally located, but a woman with some kind of scent that disturbed my unfortunately delicate sinuses sat right behind me, fortunately with enough time for me to move) but I could see what the composer was getting at. The first half closed with Not Another Word by Ben Rieke, a piece exploring the difference between our inner lives & what gets expressed, & seen, by others; that might make things sound too abstracted & philosophical but this was another intriguing piece, with moments of near-silent solos giving way to abundance, or (artful) confusion.
The second half opened with Before Dawn, by Sepehr Pirasteh, a work inspired by the traditional dawn song of the Ghashghai people, nomads who lived near the composer's native Shiraz in Iran, a sound & experience he linked to ongoing struggles against political oppression. It is a haunting, almost lumbering tune, passing as in a swaying procession, with an eerie edge to the sound. Interestingly, given the composer's linkage of the music to uprising & resistance, there is no triumphant or affirmative ending; it ends more or less as it continued (which is a frankly more realistic assessment of uprising & resistance). Next up was Beyond the Pacific Ocean by Eda Er. She is originally from Turkey & mentioned the vast Pacific as both barrier & protection from the person she had been in other countries. There was an interesting use of percussion in the piece; perhaps misled by Debussy I was assuming an oceanic invocation would swirl around the strings, but the percussion, which did evoke lashing waves, spoke to the strength of the ocean. The piece ended with several resounding thwacks on a large drum. The final piece was Snap by Cole Reyes. He spoke about the many emotional uses of music: sometimes you need loud & energetic, others soft & inward. Snap has emotional connotations & connections here (as in, he just snapped!). The piece fluidly went from one affect to another. It was a good way to end the evening.
Here's hoping all six composers can continue to do their work.
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