A Performance of Unanswered Questions
(versión en español aquí)
The bleak and damp night of February 11 made sure to banish the wandering spirit from Downtown. The solitude was so profound that it aroused suspicion. Like Prince Prospero’s abbey, the auditorium shielded
itself from the icy plague; one by one, as if in a clandestine gathering, each person took their place in the hall. Three unorthodox works gave sound to the macabre riddles the audience willingly set out to solve. Taking the words of violist Anthony Parce, at times the solution to these riddles does not align with our aspirations, yet in the end, we contemplate how it fits into the puzzle of fate.
Riddles, a composition born from Parce’s ontological creativity, became tangible for the first time in the hands of Grace Parce (cello), Rachel Miller (harp), and the composer himself. With determination, the piece unravels swiftly along a highway of altered motives in the strings, while the harp caresses the water, emanating luminous reflections. The hour of the day is uncertain, as is the abrupt emergence of swing; perhaps the carefree rhythm of jazz offers a fleeting relief amid deep contemplation. The cello introduces a melancholic line, adorned with airy harmonics and pizzicato from its fellow strings. Once again, determination procrastinates, and the broadcast tunes into a fresh groove, with percussive strokes on the wood. The convertible top is lowered, and a warm gust of air strikes the face. A summery ¾ rhythm approaches, reminiscent of a Romance language, where phrases gradually abandon randomness and transform into a succinct passion. Like a mantra, the ostinato anchors the mind to calmness; the present moment induces anxiety, yet it is the only material reality. The viola resists the imposition of being a conciliatory voice and unleashes itself in an intense, carnal monologue. Amid evasive glances, the three souls confess, and the conversation concludes without remorse.
Did those courtiers feel any remorse for abandoning their equals to their fate while seeking refuge in the fortress? André Caplet evokes the infallible Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allan Poe in Conte Fantastique to reaffirm that, despite attempts to outwit time, every cycle comes to an end. Impressionism could no longer evade the harshness of the turn of the century; to embody this transformation, the harp was a masterful choice. The composer grounds the instrument’s fairytale-like timbre into a suffocating and indecorous narrative. The trio on stage is joined by violinists Sarah Page and Charissa Leung, marking the beginning of the unease that would persist for the next sixteen minutes. The story unfolds in simultaneous settings, embracing both the physical and emotional planes. The initial trace of the Masque is disregarded by the revelry, which only succumbs to the eleven chimes of the harp. It may sound stubborn that I emphasize this instrument, but by this time, the bowed strings had already revealed a technical language that the harp had not. There is an alternative version for piano and string quartet, so one can already imagine that the melodies do not strictly adhere to diatonic and chromatic contours but rather to harmonic and rhythmic blocks. This tendency might be attributed to Caplet’s comprehensive musical profile, which also included his experience as a percussionist.
The complexity of the work’s design demands such intense focus from both performers and the audience that there is no room for even the slightest mental wandering. The applause at the end was a mixture of astonishment and relief. The program would ease all this tension with the lyricism of Felix Mendelssohn, yet once again, Anthony Parce challenged us with existential questions.
The String Quartet in A minor, Op. 13 is generally presented as a piece about love, but Parce specifies that this is a superficial description, as this sentiment gives rise to various dilemmas that are not necessarily imbued with cantabile melodies. For this composition, Mendelssohn set some verses from his song Frage (Question) to music. From the very beginning, the interrogation “Is it true?” resonates, forming part of a reflection in which the composer longs for his love to be genuinely reciprocated. Beneath this thought, the quartet reveals a young Mendelssohn with a pronounced interest in imitative counterpoint and fugue. Moreover, at that time, the publication of Beethoven’s late quartets coincided, further expanding the composer’s creative horizon. Although the piece’s design follows the model of the late Classical period, its construction and thematic development are intense and versatile. Each voice acquires an individual character, allowing the richness and breadth of its range to be appreciated through disjunct melodies.
As the piece progressed, I believe it did allow us to release the previous tension and reconnect with our emotions. Accustomed to South American histrionics, I have generally perceived a more restrained performance style in Nashville’s symphonic and chamber music scene. On this occasion, however, I felt that the combination of Caplet and Mendelssohn encouraged the performers to express their intentions without modesty. It is also worth mentioning that Mendelssohn’s ability to compose “songs without words” adds intensity to the performance of the melodies. This becomes most evident in the final movement, when the violin introduces an impetuous and passionate recitative that awakens the eloquence of the other voices. The piece concludes with a tranquil adagio, featuring longer vocal-like phrases that return us once more to the game of riddles—was it true?
- About the Author
- Latest Posts
A cellist from Bogotá, Colombia, now residing in Nashville. She is pursuing a new direction by enrolling in the Master’s program in Musicology at Middle Tennessee State University to deepen her expertise in the ‘backstage’ aspects of music repertoire.
