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Exploring various boundaries
The non-conservative Juilliard
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Amanda von Goetz

New Juilliard Ensemble, Joel Sachs (conductor),Tomoya Aomori (double bass), Michael Caterisano (drumset), Sasha Cooke (mezzo-soprano), Philip Fisher (piano). Peter Jay Sharp Theater, New York City.

Suren Zakarian, Jack Beeson, Kenji Bunch, Valentin Bibik and John Psathas are five stars of the new music scene whose names have been thrust into the spotlight through the courageous efforts of contemporary music guru and New Juilliard Ensemble director/conductor Joel Sachs. Sachs programmed a special season opener at Lincoln Center's Peter Jay Sharp Theater that consisted of works written especially for and premiered by the New Juilliard Ensemble.

Far and away, the biggest crowd-pleaser of the program was Arachnophobia, by American composer Kenji Bunch. Set to a clever programmatic theme that featured a spider as the reincarnation of conductor Joel Sachs himself, the work was interlaced with an eclectic mix of creepy-crawly chromaticisms, jazzy juxtapositions, and schmaltzy pseudo-sentimentality. The performers really got into the "swingin' groove" of it all, and even Joel Sachs joined the action from the podium with an amusing cameo on the jews-harp (a corruption of "jaws harp" since the jaw moves to gain the different pitches).

Towards the end of the work, Arielle Rodgers, a diminutive and graceful young harpist, rose from her seat and made her way to the rear of the stage. She picked up a mallet and stood in dignified silence patiently awaiting her cue. When her time came, it seemed as if her alter ego had emerged, for she hurled the mallet at a giant Chinese gong and whacked it with such might that the majority of the audience jumped in their seats, completely taken aback. Even more uproarious was that after she had done her duty, she gently replaced the mallet on the stage floor, and quietly reassumed a seat at her instrument, as if she had never budged from the spot.

Stream 3 by John Psathas of New Zealand is a huge work for piano, double bass, orchestra, and drumset. All sections of the ensemble were amplified during the performance, and the men-in-black-stage-hands had to enclose the drums behind a glass screen to prevent sound bleeding between microphones. Through no fault of percussionist Michael Caterisano, who performed brilliantly on the set, the amplified drums had a tendency to drown out the strings and winds, leaving the piano and double bass to drive the work forward.

The piece conjured images of jazz club music, albeit on a much larger (and louder) scale. Double bassist Tomoya Aomori's solo was fascinating; every movement he made resonated through the theater speakers, and his fingers seemed like little creatures that scampered about the fingerboard with amazing agility and speed. Pianist Philip Fisher tossed off the score's demanding rhythmic patterns with remarkable ease, and shared a vibrant charisma with the other two soloists, making the work and performance most enjoyable right up to a "big bang" ending that had all players going wild.

Armenian composer Suren Zakarian's Island of Lamentation began simply, with tiny bell chimes, creating a static environment that hushed the NJE performers into stillness. The bells were soon joined by the piano in a duo of ringing tones, then by the harp, strings, woodwinds and, finally, the brass. United as an ensemble and carrying with them a pure theme, the instrumentalists changed color as one, procuring a darker muted quality, forever altering the anticipated direction of the work. The piano began a quiet rumbling bassline, supported by lower-registers in the cellos and double bass. A storm was undoubtedly brewing, darkness rolling in to cover the musical textures like a blanket of mist hovering over rough seas. The remainder of the piece alternated between roaring thunder and pensive reflection, a rollercoaster ride of tormented anguish and bittersweet resignation. When the piece concluded just the same as it had begun, not a pin drop could be heard. Only bells.

Ophelia Sings by Jack Beeson is a very interesting work in that it manages to use Shakespeare's time-honored (and perhaps overused) text from Hamlet to its advantage. Beeson brings a clear freshness to his work, rearranging words and adding a few here and there for rhetoric affect. Whereas Ophelia has traditionally been portrayed by a high soprano, Beeson avoided this cliché through casting Shakespeare's heroine as a mezzo-soprano, allowing the role to be brought to life and sung beautifully by Sasha Cooke. An elegantly demonstrative and engaging performer, Cooke gave great attention to her role, displaying her enjoyment without venturing into the realm of the ostentatious or affected.

Ukrainian composer Valentin Bibik's Symphony for 17 Players seemed to pale somewhat in comparison with the other works on the evening's program. Nevertheless, the interconnected, three-movement piece boasted many fine compositional virtues: enigmatic phrasing, stirring color shifts, and a solid formal design. Overall, the work was imbued with a distinct Slavic flavor, borrowing snippets from Shostakovich and Prokofiev in the form of syncopated rhythms and "sawing" string writing. Some of the performers seemed enthusiastic about performing the work, while others did not. Flutist David Buck breathed life into his opening solo with good control and total professionalism, setting a precedent for the ensemble that was unfortunately not upheld throughout the work. Who was to blame for this, however, remained unclear. A mediocre piece of music can sound stellar in the hands of energetic musicians, just as easily as a fantastic score can seem utterly soul-destroying if merely engineered by uninspired performers.