Nonesuch Records at BAM: Philip Glass & Steve Reich
by Nick Stubblefield and FoM
(Photo: Stephanie Berger)
Two weeks ago, Philip Glass and Steve Reich - by any measure two of the most important and influential composers of our time - kicked off the Nonesuch at BAM festival by sharing a stage for the first time in decades, along with their respective ensembles. Over three concerts at the Howard Gilman Opera House, they performed music from across their fifty-year careers, neatly paralleling Nonesuch's own 50th anniversary.
On Tuesday night, the stage lights came on, and there sat both Glass and Reich, both at electronic keyboards facing each other. They were joined by fellow keyboardist/composers Nico Muhly and Timo Andres, with percussionist David Cossin sitting square in the center. They soon launched into Reich’s Four Organs (1970), which incited a near-riot at its Carnegie Hall premiere in 1973. In typical Reich fashion, the piece is built from deceivingly repetitive musical ideas: the shrill, long organ tones gradually shift in frequency over time, while the steady shake of maracas keeps time throughout. Watching the keyboardists' hands, it was apparent that they were each playing very little.
The genius in Philip Glass' music is that despite repeating ideas over and over, the music actually evolves a lot -- it simply chooses to do so over a long period of time. Glass himself has famously rejected the term “minimalism” to describe his work, instead describing it as, “music with repetitive structures.” The Cologne section from Civil warS (1984) was classic Glass: sweeping and pulsing musical ideas, twinkling, fantastical sounding synthesizers, with epic horn stabs over the top. Often, a performance of Glass’ music is like running a marathon, requiring real endurance on the part of the performers. Here, the musicians provided more than the necessary stamina, with only the occasional break for a sip of water.
By contrast, Parts 1 and 2 from Music in 12 Parts (1971-1974) sounded gentle, even pleasant. The standout in the performance was Lisa Bielawa, whose angelic voice has been a staple of the Philip Glass Ensemble for more than 20 years. That was followed by the Funeral of Amenhotep III from Glass’ opera Ahknaten (1983). Tom-tom players joined the ensemble on large risers, elevating them as featured performers. That made for a great visual element that also subtly conjured images of pyramids, or perhaps simply a political hierarchy. The piece was characterized by a powerful, driving tribal drum beat along with cinematic horn stabs, heavily accented vocals, and sweeping wind parts, making it an audience favorite.
Following intermission was Reich’s classic Music for 18 Musicians. The ensemble was dominated by percussionists playing mallet instruments such as vibraphones and marimbas, whose polyrhythmic groove provided the backbone to the hour-long performance. There were also woodwinds, strings, multiple piano parts (including one played by Reich himself), and powerful vocal harmonies by the all-female group Synergy Vocals. The resulting performance was both beautiful and transfixing.
The following Thursday, Reich kicked things off by performing Clapping Music (1972) with longtime collaborator Russell Hartenberger. This simplest of music - two musicians, no instruments - takes Reich's experiments with phasing to their apotheosis, in the most satisfying and immediate way. Another early work, Piano Phase (1967) was performed by Cossin in a 2002 revision, hitting midi percussion pads with mallets that triggered piano samples. Before long, Cossin was playing against a superimposed image of himself, his multiple arms flying around like Ganesh.
The day of the concert happened to be 9/11, which added obvious gravity to the performance of Reich's WTC 9/11 (2011) for amplified string quartet and electronics. Weaving EMT and NORAD recordings with passages from the Torah sung by a cantor, the overriding mood of the work is one of extreme panic and terror, with the strings sounding loud and harsh as they tore into Reich's tough, uncompromising music.
The first half ended on a more upbeat note with Reich's Sextet (1985): a percussive piece with multiple mallet instruments and a pair of pianos (played by Ed Niemann and Lisa Moore). Using the same hypnotic texture as Music for 18 Musicians, the piece had a steady pulse interjected with ominous minor chords and occasional bass drum rumbles, eventually building to a rousing, quicksilver conclusion.
Following intermission, Reich came back onstage to sit in on Music in Similar Motion (1969) with the Philip Glass Ensemble, sitting almost directly behind Glass. As I sat watching these twin pillars of modern music perform together, I was immediately struck by the significance of what we were all witnessing. It is difficult to overstate the influence these two men have had on the course of music history, bringing music back from the brink of self-destruction to its rightful role as our greatest source of artistic expression.
Next were three excerpts from Glassworks (1983), a suite of short chamber pieces Glass wrote to deliberately reach a wider, more pop-driven audience. Floe was wild and kinetic, all mad arpeggios and endless repeats that sounded like the musical representation of the Dawn of the Machine. Façades was slow and ominous, with Jon Gibson's soprano sax floating above the synth-created strings. Rubric went back to breakneck speed, this time modulated by brass and flute sounds.
Following the strangely dissonant "Some Are" from the Low Symphony, the concert ended with the mesmerizing "Spaceship" from Einstein on the Beach, which brought me immediately back to the production of Einstein I witnessed on this same stage two years ago, with its flashing light boxes and glass elevators. (If you missed it, do yourself a favor and watch it here.) With the ensemble front and center, I was mostly awestruck by Bielawa's near-endless vocalise: when did she have time to catch her breath? After nearly ten minutes, the stage lights were extinguished and the entire sold-out house exploded in a rapturous ovation. One of the most incredible musical experiences I've ever had in New York, or anywhere for that matter.
The work of Philip Glass and Steve Reich has long been appreciated by fans of art music, but it is their ability to cross artistic musical ideas with accessible ones that has brought them continued popularity with the general public, well into their eighth decade. Can't wait to hear what's still to come.
More pics on the photo page.