Record Roundup: Novelty Is Not Enough

Some of the hardest work of writing AnEarful is choosing what to share out of the many, many recordings that come my way. As ever, the cream rises to the top, but when interrogating why the cream is the cream, I think I've settled on something: Newness is not enough. While it's certainly admirable to push music forward by organizing sound in a manner that seems to have never been done before, for me to truly love something it must go beyond the merely novel. For example, take The Residents. While I can certainly say nothing else sounds like them and I appreciate the opportunity to hear something so strange, I'm not compelled to make their music a part of my life. Their novelty is something on which we can objectively agree, it's what is lacking for me that shades into the subjective. That said, perhaps some of what I share below may not fit the bill on all levels for you - but I hope you will give it a chance to at least expand your conception of what music can be and do.

Sō Percussion and Friends - Julius Eastman: Stay On It One of the most riveting events of the current livestream era was when Sō Percussion presented their version of Eastman's pioneering piece of maxi-minimalism with a stunning, mind-melting video by MediaQueer (the duo of Phong Tran and Darian Donovan Thomas) as part of their Brooklyn Bound series. I was in the kitchen, listening the chats and music that preceded it while doing the dishes, etc., but when that video started up, I could not look away from their next-level collage of TV ads, street protests, and bits of cultural detritus. I also had the sense that the performance of Stay On It was special on its own, instantly treasuring how the repetitions seemed to build momentum while allowing other themes and sounds to emerge. Now that it has been released as a standalone recording, I'm delighted to be 100% RIGHT. The four members of Sō laid down the elemental groove that drives the piece and then invited some extraordinary guests to add to the flexible structure of the piece, including Tran and Thomas on electronics and violin respectively, Grey Mcmurray on guitar and vocals, Beth Meyers on viola and vocals, Alex Sopp on flute, piccolo, and vocals, Adam Tendler on piano, and Shelley Washington on sax - each one a player who brings their all to any project. What a joy to hear this piece in a committed, well-recorded performance, allowing all the layers of one of Eastman's most accessible and optimistic works to reveal themselves clearly. It's as fresh and revelatory as it must have been in 1973, when he wrote it. Simply put, they've set a new standard for Eastman's ensemble work, and one as high as Jace Clayton's sparkling take on his piano music. There will be more Eastman goodies to come, too, as Wild Up has announced a multi-year project, starting with Femenine - hear an excerpt here.

Kenneth Kirschner & Joseph Branciforte - From The Machine, Vol. 1 Greyfade is a new boutique label prizing sonic excellence on vinyl and in high-resolution digital formats (no streaming) and seeking to present music that arises from innovative processes. In this case, Kirschner and Branciforte have transferred algorithmic and generative techniques from electronic music into the acoustic realm, using software to compose two pieces of austere elegance. The first, April 20, 2015, originally an electronic composition by Kirschner and here arranged for two cellos (Mariel Roberts and Meaghan Burke) and piano (Jade Conlee) by Branciforte,  finds the instruments in dialog, if not quite conversation, sliding around each other in a series of brief phrases. The second, 0123, composed by Branciforte for "low string quartet" (Tom Chiu, violin, Wendy Richman, viola, Christopher Gross, cello, Greg Chudzik, double bass), has the players work their way up an octave by exploring the same four-note cell in a ruminative fashion. Both works generate a mysterious disquiet that I think would exist even if you didn't know there was code behind them and represent a planting of the flag for Greyfade, claiming impressive territory that I look forward to exploring further on their first release, which featured collaborations between Branciforte and vocalist Theo Bleckmann, and their next one with the JACK Quartet, coming in September.

Peter Gilbert - Burned Into The Orange No one could accuse New Focus co-founder Gilbert of using the label to promote his own music - this is only his second release and the last was over a decade ago. But his dazzling command of various forces, from string quartets (both the Arditti and the Iridium are featured) to electronics to solo tuba, makes me hope we don't have to wait that long for more. Each piece grabs the attention like a great storyteller, with Channeling The Waters for flute and percussion (Camilla Hoitenga and Magdalena Meitzner, respectively) being emblematic. Opening with a heavy metal fanfare, it leads you on a labyrinthine journey that never ceases to fascinate, which could be said of the album as a whole. Join the adventure.

Wavefield Ensemble - Concrete & Void This first album from an ensemble launched in 2016 and made up of new music all-stars, including Julia den Boer, Hannah Levinson, Greg Chudzik, and Dan Lippell, was recorded at a socially-distanced concert at a parking garage in Montclair, NJ in October 2020. But you would never know it's a live performance, such is the gleaming perfection of the sound. Presented are five meaty works (the shortest is just over eleven minutes) from composers, including Jen Baker, Jessie Cox, Victoria Cheah, Chudzik, and Nicholas DeMaison, who all collaborated deeply with the players. Pushing through the COVID era restraints (no in-person rehearsals, etc.), the group has arrived at a series of gripping, cinematic soundscapes, with Cheah's A wasp, some wax, an outline of the valley over us a fall being especially involving. Like all the pieces, the integration of electronics and acoustic instruments is seamless and her use of suspense brings to mind Bernard Herrmann's work for sci-fi television or tracks from Nine Inch Nails Ghosts, as she draws you through a series of images in sound. After all of Cheah's tension, Chudzik's Silo washes over you like a hymnal, with his cello surrounded by harmonics and drones. Concrete & Void firmly establishes Wavefield as a group to watch, and I hope I can get to their next concert, especially if it has free parking!

Chris Campbell - Orison Using an array of forces including members of the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, "hybrid-music" violinist Todd Reynolds, and drummer Dave King from The Bad Plus, Cambell has created a seven-movement work that brings a sense of calm and reflection for its 37-minute length. Reminiscent of some of John Luther Adams' pieces, with high, whispery tones from the violin and swirling harmonics, King's drums (often played with brushes) and repeating piano figures lend forward motion to the piece. "Orison" is a perfect title, but "oasis" would work, too, for the way Campbell's music clears space in the mind. Although there are fewer daily shocks in 2021 than in 2020, this still feels just like what the doctor ordered. During the years of its composition, Campbell came to think of the piece as "a companion" and this listener feels the same. Keep it close.

Various Artists - A New Age For New Age Vol. 3 Eventually all genres of music, from the lauded to the discredited, come around for reconsideration. "New Age" music, which I used to view as sort of the strip-mall yoga center version of ambient, has been having a nice moment over the last few years, whether in the revival of Laraaji's career or ear-opening reissues like Pearls Of The Deep, the best of Stairway. Starting in 2019, the ever-expanding Whatever's Clever label began inviting artists to submit pieces that reinterpret New Age music and curating compilations based on what they received. The first two volumes (and Vol. 4, for that matter) were wonderful, but this is the one to which I keep returning. Partly that's because it has a NEW SONG from Elana Low, which is a precious thing indeed (full disclosure: I suggested she submit something!), but also for the sheer variety that somehow coheres into a satisfying journey. Opening with the supremely witty Serenity Now by shm0o0o, with its "dee-do-dee-do-dee-do...dah!" refrain, we are also given the rain-streaked chamber music of 4385650503, a collaboration between LLLL, Mitsuhiro Fujiwara, and DaisyModern, and the sun-dazed folk of Reliable Feelings by Adeline Hotel among other explorations in mostly electronic tones and textures. Considering Whatever's Clever has released four volumes in the series without repeating artists, they have obviously struck a nerve with creators. Don't miss out on what's exciting them - you may even find a new soundtrack for your yoga practice.

Ben Seretan - Cicada Waves This dreamy series of piano improvisations accompanied by nature sounds would have been HUGE during the original New Age era - it's also the most distinctive and assured music I've heard from Seretan, the founder of Whatever's Clever and a stalwart of the indie-rock/folk scene in the northeast. He just sounds so settled, spinning chords and melodies while rain washes down or crickets sing around him, and that sense of contentment is contagious. For full immersion, watch the videos he's created or commissioned for each song. Good luck getting a cassette, though, as he's already sold out two pressings. 

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BOAC At MMOCA: The Eno Has Landed

Note: The cover photo includes a detail of Shoshanna Weinberger's installation for the Sunroom Project Space, on display at Wave Hill.

AnEarful acknowledges that this work is created on the traditional territory of the Munsee Lenape and Wappinger peoples.

Record Roundup: American Harvest

It’s at this time of the year, when the dark falls early and the sweet aroma of dead leaves is joined by the smoky hint of fireplaces being put to first use, that you may seek the sounds of that elusive genre known as Americana and other folk and country infused music. As I did in last year’s Cornucopia Of Folk And Americana, here’s a quick roundup of albums and EP’s that fit the bill - all of them, except for one spectacular reissue, recent releases. Like the earlier post, a playlist is included for your listening pleasure. This time I’ve put it at the top so you can press “play” and then read along.




Hiss Golden Messenger - Terms Of Surrender For someone who crafts emotionally resonant lyrics sometimes informed by great literature, it should never be forgotten that M.C. Taylor’s best work is often accompanied by a wicked backbeat. It’s that groove that drew me into Lateness Of Dancers, the masterpiece that was my gateway drug into his wonderful oeuvre - it was also my number one album of 2014. Drummer Matt McCaughan is an essential part of that hypnotic rhythm and he is in such fantastic form on Terms Of Surrender that it might have been my favorite Hiss album since Lateness even if the songs weren’t so terrific. But they are: richly melodic ruminations on family, work, and the endless conflicting demands between the two. Granted, these are the rows Taylor has been hoeing for some time, but the heat has brought that familiar pot to a rolling boil. Even if you didn’t know Taylor was writing himself out of a dark year, you would feel his burning need to get to the light. The production overall is also fantastic, burnished to a 70’s FM radio sheen yet not sanding down some of those eccentricities that made the early Hiss albums so striking, mixing dub and Appalachian folk into a distinctive blend on tracks like Cat’s Eye Blue and Whip. Guitar/keys/harmonica polymath Phil Cook and his brother, bassist Brad Cook, are no doubt worthy of our gratitude for much of what sounds so wonderful. Finally, it must be said that Taylor’s voice has never sounded better, one benefit of all those nights on the road, singing for his family and wishing he were with them. Concert dates are here.

Tyler Ramsey - For The Morning It’s been eight years since the last album by this fine singer-songwriter so if his name is familiar it’s likely you noticed it in the credits on an album by Band Of Horses, with whom he was active until 2017. Those years were probably good for his craft, not only to hone it but to focus him on what was important just to him, rather than the compromises of being in a band. The sound he has settled on is rich with layered guitars and loaded with atmosphere, surrounding his high, clear tenor and supporting songs that take hard-won personal truths and transmute them into the universal. For The Morning is an involving listen and a great return to solo work for this indie stalwart.

Elana Low - Loam These three haunting songs are a wonderful calling card for Low’s monolithic brand of dark folk, which finds her honeyed contralto accompanied by the mesmerizing drone of her harmonium. The self-penned tunes seem to come from the earth itself, with melodies the ancients would recognize and claw back as their own. Low is channeling something very special, creating a mood which is nicely reflected in the handmade packaging for the CD. So order one up and see if you don’t put it on repeat while idly checking her website and counting the days until you can see her in concert and take a deeper drink from her river of song.

Andy Jenkins - The Garden Opens A great song tells a story through its melody and chord changes as much as its lyrics. On these four sweet numbers, from the finger-picked wonders of Starfish Fever to the wry self-deprecation of Don’t Dance, Jenkins once again proves his mastery of the form. After having his debut album, Sweet Bunch, on repeat for much of 2018, what a delight it is to have more from Jenkins!

Ryley Walker and Charles Rumback - Little Common Twist Walker is a supremely talented acoustic guitarist, one of the best around, and a reliably witty Twitter presence. However, our interests have diverged, especially on the lyrical front, since the gloriously sun-dappled jazz-folk of Primrose Green in 2015. But I’ve always kept a close eye, seeking that album’s warmth and depth. Somehow I missed Walker’s first collaboration with avant-jazz drummer Rumback (Cannots from 2016) but I am fully on board for this one. Little Common Twist finds the duo in symbiotic pursuit of texture, melody, and emotion, each making ideal use of their instruments. But there is no sense of display, just the creation of an immersive little universe in sound, and one to which I look forward to returning often.

John Calvin Abney - Safe Passage It may seem a damning with faint praise to focus first on the frame rather than the picture, but Abney devises such perfect settings for each of his songs that I am compelled to mention the production on this album right up front. The first song, I Just Want To Feel Good, has the sense of an overture, just two finger-picked guitars and the chorus plainly stated like a mantra. Kind Days follows and the details keep adding to the atmosphere, whether the yearning pedal steel or the shimmering vibraphone. Both of those are played by Abney as well, proving he can take care of himself when it comes to executing his ideas. He does get help from others, however, including Shonna Tucker on bass, Will Johnson on drums, Megan Palmer on violin and organ, and John Moreland on guitars. Abney has always been a good singer but here he seems even more comfortable with his warm burr, using it to transit a wide array of emotions, including the sly digs of Honest Liar, just one standout track. Words like “reliable” and “craftsmanship” come to mind when I think of Abney - but don’t take them the wrong way. It just means that he puts in the work so you can have something to depend on in this wayward world - and that’s not something I take for granted.

Courtney Hartman - Ready Reckoner Between you, me, and the lamppost, one reason I like being friends with musicians is because they often clue me into great sounds. That’s how I found Hartman - I was instantly sold when Richard Aufrichtig shared a snippet in an Instagram story. While this is her debut solo album, it comes after wending her way through the both the world of modern bluegrass with the band Della Mae and the back roads of Spain. In fact she wrote some of these songs while hiking the 500 miles of the Camino de Santiago, the “road of Saint James” that has taken pilgrims to Santiago de Campostela in Galicia for centuries. But the sound she lays down here, much of it driven by her adventurous acoustic guitar, full of woodsy and percussive sounds, feels purely American. It’s only natural that one of her collaborators is Bill Laswell, that master of shimmer and smoke in jazz-infused guitar tones. Their duet on Neglect is deeply moving - and it’s an instrumental. Co-producer Shahzad Ismaily also serves Hartman well, conjuring a warm and spacious surrounding that allows her music to breathe. Her versatile voice ranges from a flighty head sound to a rich mezzo, employed especially effectively on Koyaanisqatsi - bet you weren’t expecting that song title! Just another surprise on this exquisitely crafted and deeply personal album.

Jonathan Wilson - ‘69 Corvette Speaking of “personal,” the title track of Wilson’s new EP takes us on a journey back to where he came from - North Carolina - in a tapestry of music that seems to coalesce under a porch light with a foggy forest as a backdrop. Mark O’Connor’s Appalachian fiddle speaks as profoundly as the lyrics. Whether this is a dalliance away from Wilson’s typically more progressive work, the EP’s two other countrified tracks, make the idea of more of this quite appealing indeed.

Molly Sarlé - Karaoke Angel Sarlé is one third of Mountain Man, the Appalachian-influenced vocal group that also includes Alexandra Sauser-Monnig and Amelia Meath. While still full of folky chord changes and turnarounds, Sarlé’s own songs mine more of a 70’s pop-rock ethos, aided by a highly detailed production by Sam Evian. But the songs, which convey the thrills and pitfalls of freedom and self-discovery with poetic universality, could stand on their own easily. I’ve always found Mountain Man, though technically impressive, somewhat impenetrable and cloying but Sarlé on her own is a treasure. If you find your way to this album, you will likely hold it close.

Daughter Of Swords - Dawnbreaker This is the name Alexandra Sauser-Monnig chose to symbolize newfound freedom as a songwriter and solo performer away from Mountain Man. Maybe there's a deep message that both she and Sarlé have songs called Human on their debut albums, but I'd prefer to let each occupy its own little plot of land. Dawnbreaker, in any case, is far more of a mood piece than Karaoke Angel, with its ten tracks blending almost seamlessly into a single statement. There's nothing monotonous about it, however, as strong melodies and varied textures abound and each song is a tidy shadowbox of memory and hope.

Tate McLane - Jackpine Savage I found this album when I was looking for something entirely different but I was tempted to give it a try and found myself listening to the whole thing. McLane powers his raspy voice over chugging-train guitars or sweet picking with the gusto of a busker still trying to raise enough to get a cup of coffee and get out of the cold. Personality and passion combine to put over these tunes, which might sound overly familiar in other hands.

Rebecca Turner - The New Wrong Way Full disclosure: I know Turner and my saying nice things about her new album is in no way related to any kind of guilt over my topping her in Words With Friends at a rate of two games to one. It is what it is. But while I can hit a 100-pointer on the triple word score, I certainly can't write a song like Turner - not many can. She manages to find deeply personal little details and turn them into songs so relatable you'll think these things happened to you, like this from Water Shoes: "I borrowed your shoes, and my happiness hovered on the surface of the water." While her voice has its quirks, listening to her delicately swinging take on the old standard, Tenderly, clues you into her solid craft as a singer. Produced by Turner with Scott Anthony, with some of the recording taking place at Memphis's legendary Ardent studios, the sound is warm and inviting, like a house concert to which you'd feel lucky get invited. Give this a listen - you might just feel like you've found a new friend.

Wilco - Ode To Joy There are parts of this album that seem enervated, sere, and barely able to get out of bed, with Jeff Tweedy's voice barely above a whisper and all the instruments taking a back seat to Glenn Kotche's trudging, implacable drums. Depending on my mood, those moments either have me thinking, "C'mon, dudes, get moving! We have things to do! What's wrong with you?" or "Seriously, guys, I get you. And you get me. Thank you for understanding!" We are living in an era of high anxiety and Tweedy is nothing if not a divining rod of the cultural moment. So, sure, this may not be the Wilco album you wanted (which could have been a punchy kick in the pants like Star Wars or an album full of Mondays), but it just might be the Wilco album you need. Either way, listen carefully and you will hear all kinds of comforting Wilco-isms, from the melodies of Everybody Hides and Love Is Everywhere (Beware) to the angular freakout at the end of We Were Lucky or Hold Me Anyway's triple guitars. And if you remain disappointed in Ode To Joy, it's likely the next album will be completely different and hit you where you live the way this one does for me.

Gene Clark - No Other (Deluxe Edition) Gram Parsons was famous for calling his signature blend of country, folk, and soul "cosmic American music." On No Other, Clark, a founding member of The Byrds, almost went Parsons one better by adding funk into the mix. I say "almost" because the funkiest takes of the album's eight songs, cooked up with collaborator Thomas Jefferson Kaye (himself worthy of further investigation), were never released - until now. Disc two of this deluxe reissue comprises a fully alternate version of the album that is arguably superior to what originally came out in 1974 - and if you know how good THAT album is, you will be running to your computer or local record store to get your hands on this. Granted, the clavinet and conga jams Kaye and Clark consigned to the vault were probably too ahead of their time and outside of what people expected to have had any success back then. Then again, considering the fact that Asylum records buried the album because label head David Geffen was pissed that his $100K budget yielded so few songs, part of me thinks, "What if they had gone for broke?" In any case, now we have this embarrassment of riches, which fits in with the other artists on this list with astonishing ease. If No Other hasn't already been in your rotation as a classic album of the 70's, get to it now - it may just help define your current decade in music.

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Autumn Albums, Part 1
Autumn Albums, Part 2
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New Americana, Part 1: Phil Cook
New Americana, Part 2: Hamilton Leithauser & Paul Maroon

Best Of 2018: Three Concerts

I only had a chance to write about a fraction of the live shows I saw last year. There were spectacular shows from the realm of rock by Palm, Bon Iver and Jonathan Wilson. Then there were contemporary classical performances at The Kitchen as part of the MATA Festival, by ACME in memory of Jóhann Jóhansson, a Red Bull-sponsored concert featuring the music of Tristan Perich (50 violins!) and a portrait of Du Yun at the Miller Theater. But there were several more moments of music in the dark that stuck with me. Here’s a brief selection that I hope will point you towards some of your own moments of transcendence. 

Killing Joke at Irving Plaza, Wednesday September 12, 2018

I’ll state this plainly: everyone should see Killing Joke. Just as everyone should experience the Eiffel Tower, the pyramids, the canals of Venice, or the Grand Canyon, everyone should come face to face with this uncompromising band of brothers who put forth a sonic blast like no other. But good luck - when they come to NYC it’s typically for two nights at at Irving Plaza (capacity 1,200), which sell out months in advance. Well, pardon me for being among the converted when they came to preach during their 40th anniversary "Laugh At Your Peril" tour - a more generous man would have donated his ticket to the uninitiated!

Part of my impetus for going was that I hadn't seen them perform since 2007. Plus, their last album, Pylon from 2015, was among their best and I wanted to feel the physicality of those songs come towards me from the stage. Also - 40 years. How many other bands are still touring with their original lineup after all that time? 

Killing Joke

After an ambitious but ultimately forgettable opening set from PIG, the four men of Killing Joke - Jaz Coleman (vocals), Geordie (guitar), Youth (bass) and Big Paul Ferguson (drums) - took the stage along with a touring keyboard player and kicked the night off with Love Like Blood. By the time the colorful guitar arpeggios faded and they had barreled through European Super State and Autonomous Zone, it was obvious they were in top form. In some ways it was not unlike the last time, in 2007, with Geordie standing stock still, spraying notes and chords from his trademark Gibson ES-295, Youth slouching and plucking his bass seemingly without a care, Big Paul working his kit like a steam train stoker, and Jaz striking kabuki poses and pulling magnificent faces. But there was a lightness that was new, a joy in what they were doing, the glorious experience of craft and art overlapping, like a chair built by Picasso. 

The setlist stretched from 1980 to 2015 and, although the records occasionally trucked with the production whims of their eras, on this night it was as though that 35-year span pancaked into a continuum of urgency that remained at a white heat. I stood there and let it burn me, accepting that this might have been the last time I see Killing Joke. But I sure hope it isn't. And if they do happen to come around again, maybe I'll buy you a ticket so you can tell your grandchildren you saw one of the wonders of the world.

Summer Like The Season, Nnux, Elana Low at Sidewalk Café, Friday, November 9, 2018

Summer Like The Season (SLTS), a quartet from Detroit were both headliners and curators of this varied evening at Sidewalk, an East Village institution that just recently went under the renovator’s sledgehammer. Some may mourn, but if they can improve the awkward layout of the back room, where the music takes place, that will not be a bad thing. The sound was good, though, so hopefully they won’t fix what’s not broken. 

Elana Low started off the night, which confused me at first as she wasn’t in the information I had on the lineup. But I was instantly mesmerized by her harmonium and her honeyed, vibrato-free voice. Her songs, mostly original, found a fascinating intersection between folk songs of long ago and the immediacy of text threads between friends and lovers. At this point Low was still in her first year of music making, and seemed come an astonishing distance in that time. To prove to myself that she wasn’t an apparition, I went out to see her again about a month later at Pete’s Candy Store and she was even better!

Elana Low and Her Harmonium

None of the recordings on her SoundCloud quite do her bewitching work justice (Wolf Country comes closest), but I expect that to change when she releases her first EP later this year. In the meantime, follow her on all the socials, sign up for her extremely well-written and engaging newsletter, and try to get out to one of her upcoming concerts. Perhaps I’ll see you there. 

Next on the bill was Nnux, the project of Mexican singer and composer Ana Lopez-Réyes. I had prepped for the moment by listening to her 2017 EP, Distancia, which would definitely have been on my Best Of 2017: Electronic list had I heard it. On its three songs, Nnux stacks rich electronics up against acoustic brass and percussion creating a fresh synthesis of familiar elements. It would be a fascinating, immersive listen even if she hadn’t lavished her gorgeous voice all over the tracks. Based on the EP alone, which I played on repeat, I knew I was in the presence of an artist well along her way to making a wider impact. 

Nnux

Her stage presence and performance did not disabuse me of that notion, either - it actually strengthened it. Fully in command of her keyboard and other electronics, Nnux unveiled one incantation after another, nearly expanding the walls of tiny Sidewalk with her power. She is a major talent and, if given the chance, I can see her at National Sawdust, Roulette, LPR - and beyond - in the near future. Given a community and more collaborators, there's no telling how far she could go. She has a bunch of local dates scheduled - get to one of them and tell me I'm wrong! Back in the present, I was already floored by Nnux and Low, and there was still one act left to go, the group I had come to see in the first place. 

I was amazed by how quickly SLTS set up their gear, shoehorning it all onto the small stage. This was the moment I had been waiting for ever since bandleader, singer and drummer Summer Krinsky has sent me their music, which I found immediately captivating. She counted it off and they launched into their set, immediately in sync with each other, tight, adventurous, surprising - always anchored by Krinsky’s drums, although they’re all excellent musicians. 

Summer Like the Season

The set was a total rush, with tricky rhythms, bright melodies, otherworldly harmonies and a variety of almost tactile sonic textures. Even if it was too short for my taste, I came away completely convinced that SLTS not only has the material for an album, but the chops to bring it out to the world in a much bigger way than a pass-the-hat venue like Sidewalk, although no shade on them for giving artists like this an opportunity. Having seen Crumb, a great band with some similarities to SLTS, pack the house at Market Hotel on the strength of just two EP’s, makes it all too easy to envision them doing the same. Perhaps Sidewalk’s hiatus will inspire all three acts to make the push to the next level. Either way, consider this an insider’s tip that it won’t always be pay-what-you-will to go on the musical journey I was lucky enough to take that Friday night in November, and one I would relive in a heartbeat. 

Steven Isserlis with Orpheus Chamber Orchestra at the 92nd Street Y, Sunday December 9th, 2018

I’m not going to lie: it has been decades since I walked into the wood-lined glory that is the Kaufmann Concert Hall at the 92nd Street Y - and it may take me a few visits before it recedes into the background entirely. It is truly one of the gems of Manhattan, with a design that will never look dated, and an acoustic that is so rich and present that I had to convince two older gentlemen that there was no amplification at work. Kudos are also due to the leadership at the Y for keeping it in tip-top shape!

The afternoon began with the American premiere of Hans Rott’s Symphony for String Orchestra, No. 37. It only took 143 years for it to be played on these shores, but it could hardly have had a more persuasive introduction than what the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra delivered. Their conductor-free approach was just as fun to watch as when I saw them at Carnegie Hall with Dawn Upshaw in 1994. Rott was a roommate of Gustav Mahler's and a student of Anton Bruckner's and they both thought very highly of his work. On first listen, I felt that while it is certainly not a major work, it deserved to be heard, and knowing he was only 20 when he composed it relaxed my expectations. It also made for ideal Sunday listening, a mood which would continue with the next piece. 

You could create a 1,000 sprightly pop-folk songs from the melodic DNA of the outer movements of CPE Bach’s Cello Concerto in A Major H.439 - and the way Steven Isserlis tossed his silvery mane while playing them suggests he is more than aware! Not having seen him before, I could only assume his joy was genuine and I let it infect me. The Orpheus seemed slightly more dutiful, if as musically excellent as always, in their performance. 

But the real magic of CPE Bach’s writing here is in the slow movement, the Largo Maestoso, in which he seems to see the future, becoming daringly spare and employing some shifting harmonies over which Isserlis was free to go very deep, emotionally. I continued to think about it for the rest of the day. 

The concert closed with a true meeting of the minds: an arrangement of Franz Schubert’s String Quartet No. 14, AKA Death & The Maiden, that was planned out by Gustav Mahler and completed by David Matthews. Mahler’s inspiration takes the work out of the drawing room and throws it up on an IMAX screen for a highly dramatic and visual approach to Schubert’s narratively driven music. Orpheus gave a superb, ripping performance, completing an afternoon that showed off that amazing hall to beautiful effect. I’m looking forward to returning!

P.S. No photos allowed (boo) so you’re going to have to see it for yourself!

What live shows transported you in 2018?

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