From Nashville Ballet
The MCR Interview: Mollie Sansone, resident choreographer for Nashville Ballet, discusses her work
A star on Nashville’s skyline since 2004, when she began her career with the Nashville Ballet, Mollie Sansone has had a remarkable career as a dancer, teacher, and choreographer. Her most recent work, Wild Swans, a children’s ballet based on Hans Christian Anderson’s story of the same name, is available and free to watch on the Nashville Ballet’s website. Music City Review Journalist Y. Kendall had the opportunity to speak with Sansone about her aesthetics, her dance, and her work with the Nashville Ballet. This is a recording of that discussion.
At the Darkhorse Theater
A Fabric of Sound
A Fabric of Sound was presented in partnership with Global Education Center and was led by Daniel Arite. The event was held at the Darkhorse Theater located in West Nashville, an old church turned black box theater that provided enough open stage space to spread out the diverse cast of musicians.
The program was organized to feature the six artists separately and categorized as Sonic 1. I was interested in the way each performer made a space, a humble claim of the moment, to express themselves through their music. This showcase was a chance to perform and improvise individually before the finale, labeled Sonic 2, in which the artists performed a collaborative composition.
The first stitch was provided by Daniel Arite and his acoustic guitar. Shortly after his opening theme Thandiwe Shiphrah joined him on stage to recite a stirring poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar titled Invitation to Love. This duo has been performing together for a while now according to Arite, and they know exactly how to flow together. It was a great introduction to prepare the audience for the unique listening experience forthcoming.
Iranian setarist Reza Filsoofi gave us the most intimate performance while sitting cross-legged on a pouf under a single stage light. His delicate touch and droning improvisation on the setar evoked something ruminative in me, like a free flowing state of mind but one that was still fragile and momentary.
In contrast, Carlos Duran’s percussion solo pulsated with a more guided direction. I felt led away to another world sonically, from the start, by an instrument that was handcrafted and made up of plastic bottle tops of all sizes and colors. Duran then led the audience on an adventure that he was crafting in the moment which felt more direct than the other performances. He was excellent and focused and an exciting performer.
A Child is Born was performed by Dr Gary Powell Nash on solo clarinet. This piece was written by Thad Jones and once again appropriately fit the goal of the program by providing a range of melodic threads that swelled, sustained, and twisted throughout. This was the most familiar music to me, as far as a classical instrument in performance goes, and was played professionally by Nash.
Soprano Sangeetha Ekambaram performed The Whole Journey is Love: A Medley accompanied by Alessandra Volpi on piano. This medley was her own arrangement of songs that unfolds an emotional drama of love in different languages such as Spanish, French, Czech, Italian, and English. That incredible display of polyglotism was not even what impressed my party most. After interviewing each of them, I found they all agreed the performance was outstanding. Ekambaram’s technique and expressive delivery moved us, shocked us, and warmed us even though to be honest we could not understand the plot of the drama she was sharing. It ended with her own improvisations over slow harmonic movements from the piano. Reflecting on this medley, I’ve come to appreciate it on many levels and I’m thankful to have heard it. I believe Ekambaram had the most difficult task of using her instrument in a new, innovative way that breaks from tradition.
A bit of Take Five by Paul Desmond was in continuous use in Arite’s arrangement for guitar while Shiphrah performed spoken word to create what they introduced as “an audio collage.” Her works Word Rhythm Come and On Being a Perfect Number displayed her ability to confidently flow with the guitar beats while delivering dynamic lines that explored the musicality of language.
She was the thread throughout the evening that gave the show that extra something. I am not sure it’s tangible and I can’t recreate that feeling of energy she brought to the moment. She was a performer that blended in a unique way with an earthy, roots quality. You got the feeling she was a narrator in a way: her instrument was the only one using spoken language so it was familiar but incredibly fluid and sonically rich.
With the exposition of talent in the first part of the program finished, the artists all returned to the stage to deliver the collaborative composition followed by a Q & A session. The music started with a low whistle produced by swinging a plastic tube paired with dappled percussive rhythms on hand drums and cymbals. The first melodic strain was passed from guitar to clarinet and then synchronized while crescendoing along with the percussion. The light, tonal blend of instruments glimmered for a moment before Shiphrah’s spoken word took things in a very beat oriented direction. Her and Duran meshed well with a neat syncopated back and forth. Guitar, clarinet, and setar each played single line melodies accompanied by Duran’s handcrafted water percussion instrument which set up the entrance for the soprano voice. As all these instruments meshed, spoken word re-entered and the ensemble was finally fully involved. At the cue “I am one with the universe,” exclaimed by Shiphrah, the group swelled to the climactic section of the piece.
I really enjoyed the format and programming of the show and I felt it culminated neatly in the final performance. We learned that the ensemble was given a prompt by Arite and they then worked out the composition through a few rehearsals, eventually recording it. He said the goal of the piece was to “take you somewhere else” and that was the feeling that kept reoccurring for me; a bit of nostalgia. The show’s casual feel reminded me of friends getting together just to make and share art. Those experiences are always fun, meaningful, and inspiring. If those were the three things A Fabric of Sound impressed upon its audience, I am sure the artists were thrilled.
The Ghosts Come to TPAC
A Christmas Carol from the Nashville Repertory Theatre
Hyped for this play since I first saw it listed on the Nashville Repertory Theatre’s plan for the season, my interview with Artistic Director Micah-Shane Brewer (Nashville Reps ‘Christmas Carol’ (Interview with Micah-Shane Brewer, Artistic Director) – The Music City Review) only heightened my interest. The play doesn’t disappoint.
The set and costumes (done by Gary C. Hoff and Melissa Durmon, respectively) are fantastic! The ensemble costumes aren’t identical bland outfits, but each character has their own look: dresses and tailcoats, different colors and patterns, all well-fitted to the cast. Main characters stand out from the others by their lines and the staging, and small side characters are helpfully recognizable by distinctive hats, wigs, and the like. The sets are many, each full of details, from props to moulding on the walls. This gives a lavish and sincere air of festivity to the show, and makes each change of setting fun. Projections on the main backdrop usually match the sets, but occasionally are distracting as the image moves or backlights the wires as characters fly.
Each Ghost has distinctly different vibes (although most of them flew at some point, one of them dragging an unwilling Scrooge along). The Ghost of Christmas Future spends a lot of time in the air, and its gloomy presence is threatening and massive, although less movement could have made it more threatening. Cloaked in black, the costume department kept it creepy and avoided the easy error of making it a knock-off dementor.
While not a musical, there are original songs, dancing, and many classic carols. For the large original songs there is not live music accompanying the cast, but a track, and the canned quality of the recording steals somewhat from the richness of the music. However, the majority of musical moments are carols sung a capella or with actors playing live guitar or fiddle. This is probably my favorite aspect of this adaptation, which matches the title so well. The (presumably) historically correct carols are well chosen, well sung, well accompanied, and their placement within the play is excellent: carolers sing and are insulted by Scrooge, songs are sung by the cast while they enjoy Christmas parties, and carolers sing while set pieces are shifted about. Delightful in themselves, they add a musical richness to the world Dickens created, and Scrooge’s desire to join in with the dancing while attending a party with the Ghost of Christmas Present is palpably relatable.
There is no narration, and it is never needed. Micah-Shane Brewer’s adaptation remains faithful to the book without slowing the pace to tell us what is easily shown. The pacing of the play is good, and it does not feel 2.5 hours long (there’s an intermission midway through the Ghost of Christmas Present’s visit). There are a few added moments of humor that match the tone of the play. Brewer doesn’t shoehorn anything into or out of the story and there’s no gimmick. His tone matches the novel’s, and the darker moments (for example, the children Ignorance and Want) aren’t avoided, emphasizing the purpose of the play: to show that the true spirit of Christmas is generosity and love through helping others. Scenes that are often shortened in adaptations are given the emphasis the novel gives them. Everyday people celebrating Christmas or spending an evening together showcase the everyday goodness and love that endures through adversity, and that is what truly breaks Scrooge’s cold heart.
The cast is marvelous: Matthew Carlton is perfect as Ebenezer Scrooge. He nails being a miser, undergoing a steady transformation, and ending in joyful redemption. On stage basically the entire play, his performance never loses energy. Brian Charles Rooney plays my favorite Ghost of Christmas Present. He’s funny, ho ho’s well and with spirit (but never aggressively or painfully, as I’ve seen others do) and his mysterious but somewhat comical nature is well-balanced. The Cratchits are eminently likable, never twee or dully moralizing.
When I attended opening night in TPAC’s Polk Theater, the audience was mainly adults, but there were some young children who were impressively well-behaved throughout the performance, although I’d recommend only bringing your kid if they’re old enough to sit through (and pay attention to) talking scenes in movies. While the play is family friendly and focused, with music, spectacle, dancing, and special effects, most of the play is dialogue.
This play is the Nashville Repertory Theatre, yet again, bringing a fantastic performance to Music City. Seeing this quality adaptation of the archetypal Christmas story was the best way to set off my Christmas spirit powerfully enough to sustain me through the Christmas shopping that I’ve yet to begin.
Shows continue at TPAC’s Polk Theater through the 17th. For tickets and more information, see A Christmas Carol — Nashville Repertory Theatre
A Tenth Season from Chatterbird begins!
The Blossoming at Emerson Hall
On Thursday, November 30th, at Emerson Hall, Nashville’s experimental chamber ensemble Chatterbird inaugurated it’s tenth season with a concert titled The Blossoming, featuring Dream Chambers. My first exposure to this wonderfully innovative ensemble was their 2016 performance of Halldór Smárason’s 1972, Game 13, a piece written for amplified chess board, electronics, and video which re-enacted the “Match of the Century” between Chess Master Bobby Fischer and his Soviet Counterpart Boris Spassky. It was experimentally weird, entertaining, and cool. Since then, and as demonstrated by The Blossoming, Chatterbird has not changed much, they are still cool, entertaining and experimentally weird, but I would dare say they’ve improved their game.
The concert at Emerson Hall was made up of a series of seven pieces that Dream Chambers, an electronic artist from New Zealand (transplanted to Nashville for the last four years), had written during the pandemic while she was immersed in our ambient and electronic scene. These pieces, seemingly autonomous on synthesizers, were then given an added orchestration by Sonya Waters, also from New Zealand, for a kind of expanded Pierrot Ensemble of clarinet, harp, viola, cello, flute and violin. The result was fascinating.
As an electronic expression, Chamber’s music, which she describes as “…analog oscillators waver[ing] through clouds of granularized vocal melodies revealing a somatic experience of expanding patterns of dissonance and harmony” is remarkable. However, Water’s rich acoustic interpretation of Chamber’s highly processed sound created a stunningly organic translation of Chamber’s intimate and breathtaking work. By this I mean, not to be too much of a Luddite, it felt like the reverse of modern life.
For example, increasingly in this modern life, technology, in the form of the smartphone, smartwatch, smartglasses, etc, has found its place between us and our day to day experiences with the world. These technologies are important, but, as Arthur Schlesinger once said: “Science and technology revolutionize our lives, but memory, tradition, and myth frame our response.” Waters added the traditions and memories of classical orchestration to Chamber’s emotional expressions—creating a fascinating dialogue between acoustic tradition and electronic innovation within the works themselves. As such, Emily Bowland’s pastoral clarinet, Sarah Crocker’s delicate harp arpeggiations and the melodic line on Kaitlyn Raitz’s cello all worked together to contextualize Chambers music within the long span of Western Music’s aural history.
And as if that wasn’t enough, the stunning projections by Flooded Sun Liquid Light Show on the blanched walls of Emerson Hall brought another layer of experience to the performance. A more highly developed version of a light show than Bill Ham might have given at the Avalon Ballroom in the Psychedelic Sixties, the show channeled the ideals of the hippy experience—an expanding consciousness and a presence in the moment, within a broader and grounded understanding of the idea that these visual effects can provide visual and emotional clarity (instead of distracting from it). While driving home from this remarkable concert and enjoying the wonderous view of Music City from the neighborhoods to the East, I couldn’t help but thinking what a wonderful concert—here’s to another ten years Chatterbird!
del Schermerhorn:
Velada entre danzas y un duelo
(English Version here: https://wp.me/pabEmc-2vN)
Me atrevo a afirmar que la experiencia deseada por Aaron Copland, Astor Piazzolla y Antonio Estévez en cada composición, fue revelada de manera fascinante el pasado 18 de noviembre en el recinto del Schermerhorn. La Orquesta Sinfónica de Nashville bajo la batuta de Giancarlo Guerrero, y el Coro Sinfónico de Nashville dirigido por Tucker Biddlecombe, definieron con pericia el carácter enérgico y sensual del folklore latinoamericano. En el programa del concierto se conjugaron los paisajes sonoros de las joviales veladas de la capital mexicana en El Salón México, de los pasajes porteños en la Sinfonía Buenos Aires y de la extensa sabana venezolana en la Cantata Criolla.
A grandes rasgos podría pensarse que la selección de este repertorio pretendía sumergir a la audiencia en una gala latinoamericana al azar. No obstante, estas tres obras comparten indicios de una época en la que el arte reclamaba su autonomía, aunque el lenguaje tradicional europeo permaneciera como medio de expresión. Una referencia en común en el estilo de estos tres compositores, gira en torno al tratamiento rítmico y motívico que Igor Stravinsky empleaba en su composición. Tanto Estévez como Copland, reconocieron en el compositor ruso la intrepidez de superponer tonalidades y métricas, así como la inclusión de melodías folklóricas sin caer en la obviedad de la variación o la rearmonización. Un ejemplo de ello es la alternancia de las métricas 2/8 – 15/16 – 17/16 en las líneas del “Diablo” en la Porfía de la Cantata Criolla, mientras que la orquesta permanece en un constante patrón alusivo al corrido llanero (ritmo del joropo). En El Salón México, Copland incluyó una selección de melodías pertenecientes al folklore mexicano, “El Palo Verde”, “La Jesusita” y “El Mosco.”
Extrajo los motivos con mayor potencial y los convirtió en ostinatos que superpuso con fragmentos de las mismas melodías. El argumento de esta deconstrucción está referido en sus palabras: “Mi propósito no era simplemente citarlas literalmente, sino realzarlas sin falsificar en modo alguno su sencillez natural.” Si bien hay varios elementos implícitos de la influencia de Stravinsky en la Sinfonía Buenos Aires, el más evidente es el desplazamiento de las acentuaciones sobre el ritmo base del tango, como sucede en el inconfundible ostinato de la Consagración de la Primavera. Esta característica se ratifica en la orquestación que Piazzolla empleó para enfatizar las acentuaciones. Los timbres de cada sección no se entremezclan reafirmando el impacto de la percusión, y los flautines en acelerados movimientos ascendentes, alteran el ciclo normal en la respiración del oyente. “Maestro, yo soy su alumno a la distancia” le expresó Piazzolla a Stravinsky en un evento en el que coincidieron en Nueva York. Casualmente, Estévez también ansiaba ser alumno del compositor ruso, tanto que se propuso perseguir una beca que le permitiera continuar con sus estudios en la Universidad de Columbia donde él era profesor. A pesar de que consiguió su objetivo, Stravinsky se trasladó a Los Ángeles cuando Estévez arribó en Nueva York.
Otro factor en común en este repertorio es la exploración nacionalista de cada pieza. Los tres compositores emprendieron un viaje a la región que les serviría de inspiración. Copland escribió El Salón México desde su perspectiva como turista de un recinto de baile ubicado en la capital mexicana. En este lugar se reunían los “danzoneros y las rumberas” que no se permitían dejar morir la noche en sus pistas de baile. Estévez se encontró con Florentino y el Diablo entre los desafiantes versos de un poema venezolano, motivándolo a empacar maletas para aventurarse en los pueblos tradicionales de la música llanera de Venezuela. Luego de una infancia neoyorquina, Piazzolla se establece en Buenos Aires con el objetivo de convertirse en un auténtico intérprete del tango. En su alternancia como bandoneonista y estudiante de composición de Alberto Ginastera, Piazzolla obtuvo la revelación de imprimir el timbre de este instrumento en una amalgama orquestal sin precedentes para su Sinfonía Buenos Aires. Es inverosímil cómo a pesar de la complejidad rítmica y armónica en la estructura de cada obra, del laberinto de estados emocionales, anécdotas y climas, la música fluye y no altera su esencia. Las singularidades de la música de banda, el tango y el joropo están latentes de principio a fin en un discurso a veces sugerente y en otros momentos conciso. Cada elemento está dispuesto como si se tratara de una pintura impresionista donde la escena recobra sentido si se observa como un todo.
En una labor semejante a la de Aaron Copland como diplomático cultural en la búsqueda de gemas latinoamericanas, el director Giancarlo Guerrero logró reunir en el mismo escenario artistas de renombre mundial y que son especialistas en el repertorio que se interpretaría. El bandoneonista argentino Daniel Binelli, quien hizo parte del Sexteto Tango Nuevo dirigido por Astor Piazzolla, hizo gala de su virtuosismo al interpretar las partes escritas de los dos bandoneones que se requieren en la Sinfonía Buenos Aires. Los cantantes venezolanos Aquiles Machado (tenor) y Juan Tomás Martínez (barítono), han participado en numerosos montajes de la Cantata Criolla. Su simbiosis con esta obra es evidente; las líneas vocales escritas instan un estilo lírico impregnado de cadencias llaneras, faena completamente conseguida por los dos artistas. La búsqueda de gemas no termina aquí, hay un elemento de valor inestimable en la orquestación de esta cantata, las maracas llaneras. Este instrumento de apariencia sencilla, se reserva los mejores secretos en cuanto a la ejecución. Su academia es el Llano mismo. Por esta razón la sección de percusión requería de un miembro adicional para interpretar esta línea; era imprescindible encontrar un intérprete originario de los Llanos Venezolanos. El clarinetista Alcides Rodríguez, miembro de la Sinfónica de Atlanta, fue el encargado de dar vida a este auténtico resonador del joropo.
Ciertamente es este un magnífico reparto para un fastuoso repertorio. Quienes asistimos a la alucinante charla previa al concierto impartida por el director Giancarlo Guerrero, obtuvimos de primera mano los acontecimientos alrededor del concierto. Sin embargo, dado a su importancia para el evento, era imprescindible que esta información se resaltara también en el programa de mano. Es entendible que el bandoneón en esta oportunidad no era un instrumento solista, pero su participación en un escenario extranjero y naturalmente por la celebridad del intérprete, merecía destacarse en la disposición de la orquesta. Las falencias en la logística obstaculizaron la interacción del público con el maestro Daniel Binelli, así como el reconocimiento final por su magistral interpretación.
From the Schermerhorn:
A Soirée between Dances and a Duel
(Versión en español aquí: https://wp.me/pabEmc-2vM)
I would dare to say that the experience desired by Aaron Copland, Astor Piazzolla, and Antonio Estévez, in each composition, was revealed in a fascinating way last November 18th at the Schermerhorn Symphony Center. The Nashville Symphony Orchestra under the baton of Giancarlo Guerrero, and the Nashville Symphony Chorus conducted by Tucker Biddlecombe, expertly defined the vigorous and sensual character of Latin American folklore. The concert program combined the soundscapes of the convivial evenings of the Mexican capital in El Salón México, the porteño passages in Sinfonía Buenos Aires, and the extensive Venezuelan Savannah in Cantata Criolla.
In broad strokes, one might think that the selection of this repertoire was intended to immerse the audience in a random Latin American gala. However, these three works share hints of an era in which art claimed its autonomy, although the traditional European language remained as a means of expression. A common reference in the style of these three composers revolves around the rhythmic and motivic treatment that Igor Stravinsky employed in his compositions. Both Estévez and Copland recognized in the Russian composer the dauntlessness of overlapping tonalities and meters, as well as the inclusion of folk melodies without falling into the obviousness of variation or reharmonization. An example of this is the alternation of the metrics 2/8 – 15/16 – 17/16 in the lines of the “Devil” in the Porfía of the Cantata Criolla, while the orchestra remains in a constant pattern alluding to the corrido llanero (joropo rhythm). In El Salón México, Copland included a selection of melodies that belong to the Mexican folklore, “El Palo Verde,” “La Jesusita” and “El Mosco.”
He extracted the motifs with the greatest potential and turned them into ostinatos that he overlapped with fragments of the same melodies. The argument for this deconstruction is referenced in his words, “My purpose was not merely to quote literally, but to heighten without in any way falsifying the natural simplicity of Mexican tunes.” While there are several implicit elements of Stravinsky’s influence in Sinfonía Buenos Aires, the most evident are the accent displacements over the base rhythm of the tango, as happens in the unmistakable ostinato of the Rite of the Spring. This characteristic is ratified in the orchestration that Piazzolla used to emphasize the accentuations. The timbres of each section do not intermingle reaffirming the impact of the percussion, and the accelerated ascending motions on the piccolos alter the normal cycle in the listener’s breathing. “Maestro, I am your pupil from a distance,” Piazzolla told Stravinsky at an event where they coincided in New York. Interestingly, Estévez also longed to be a student of the Russian composer, so much so that he set out to pursue a scholarship that would allow him to continue his studies at Columbia University where he was a professor. Although he achieved his goal, Stravinsky moved to Los Angeles when Estevez arrived in New York.
Another common factor in this repertoire is the nationalist exploration of each piece. All three composers undertook a trip to the region that would serve as their inspiration. Copland wrote El Salón México from his perspective as a tourist at a dance venue in the Mexican capital. This was the place where the “danzoneros and rumberas” (dancers) gathered and would not let the night die on their dance floors. Estévez met Florentino and the Devil in the defiant verses of a Venezuelan poem, motivating him to pack his bags to venture into the traditional towns of Venezuela’s llanera music. After a New York childhood, Piazzolla settled in Buenos Aires intending to become an authentic tango performer. In his alternation as a bandoneon player and composition student of Alberto Ginastera, Piazzolla had the revelation of printing the timbre of this instrument in an unprecedented orchestral amalgam for his Sinfonía Buenos Aires. It is incredible how despite the rhythmic and harmonic complexity in the structure of each work, the labyrinth of emotional states, anecdotes, and climates, the music flows and does not alter its essence. The singularities of Banda music, tango, and joropo are latent from beginning to end in a discourse that is at times suggestive and at other times concise. Each element is disposed of as if it were an impressionist painting where the scene makes sense when is observed as a whole.
In a similar effort to that of Aaron Copland as a cultural diplomat in the search for Latin American gems, conductor Giancarlo Guerrero managed to bring together on the same stage world-renowned artists who are specialists in the repertoire that would be performed. Argentine bandoneonist Daniel Binelli, who was part of the New Tango Sextet led by Astor Piazzolla, displayed his virtuosity in performing the written parts of the two bandoneons required in Sinfonía Buenos Aires. Venezuelan singers Aquiles Machado (tenor) and Juan Tomás Martínez (baritone), have participated in numerous Cantata Criolla stagings. Their symbiosis with this musical work is evident; the written vocal lines urge a lyrical style impregnated with llanera cadences; a task completely achieved by the two artists. The search for gems does not end here, there is an element of inestimable value in the orchestration of this cantata, the maracas llaneras. This instrument of simple appearance reserves the best secrets in terms of execution. Its school is the Llano itself. For this reason, the percussion section required an additional member to play this line; it was essential to find a performer from the Venezuelan plains. Alcides Rodríguez, clarinetist of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, was in charge of giving life to this authentic joropo shaker.
Certainly, this is a magnificent cast for a splendid repertoire. Those of us who attended the mind-blowing pre-concert talk given by conductor Giancarlo Guerrero got a first-hand account of the occurrences surrounding the concert. However, given its importance to the event, it was imperative that this information also be highlighted in the distributed program. It is understandable that the bandoneon on this occasion was not a soloist, but its involvement on a foreign stage and naturally due to the celebrity of the performer, deserved to stand out in the orchestra setting. Logistical shortcomings hindered the interaction of the audience with maestro Daniel Binelli, as well as the final recognition for his masterful performance.
From the Nashville Repertory Theater
A Christmas Carol Preview
As the Christmas season begins, the Nashville Repertory Theatre starts December with performances of its new adaptation of A Christmas Carol. This Dickens story is the archetypal Christmas tale of transformation and redemption– so archetypal that the protagonist’s name, Scrooge, is now an entry in the dictionary. This story’s true meaning of Christmas has a deep focus on kindness and generosity that goes beyond mere light Santa-centered holiday fare (bah, humbug).
Speaking about the artistic choice to forgo the typical narrators for the adaptation, Artistic Director (and author of this new adaptation) Micah-Shane Brewer said, “I wanted to just immerse our audience in the world of 1843 London and be able to fully realize a big production that encompasses all the color and the nuances and the location and the spectacle…” With original musical numbers and colorful and ornate settings and costumes (see MCR Interview with Micah-Shane Brewer for a behind the scenes look at the sets, costumes, and designs), this show promises to be a timeless celebration of Christmas.
Nashville Repertory Theatre is performing A Christmas Carol Friday December 1–Sunday December 17 at TPAC’s James K. Polk Theater. For tickets and more information, see A Christmas Carol — Nashville Repertory Theatre.
Joachim’s ‘Frei aber einsam’ : The Nashville Chamber Music Society
I enjoyed attending the Nashville Chamber Music Society’s (NCMS) recent November 12, 2023 performance at Nashville’s Steinway Gallery on Sidco Drive. I’ve looked forward to this recital since my first introduction to the NCMS at their Covenant Presbyterian Church performance on October 27. It should be noted that in my last review of NCMS (see “Water Color, Reverence, and some Drama”), I wrote about founder and cellist MaryGrace Bender’s vision of employing music for the purpose of building community. Those words came to mind at this most recent event since I was so kindly greeted and welcomed by the performers, their families, and spectators whom I met at the last event before (as well as new friends). NCMS audience members feel they are enjoying an evening of fine music with friends.
In addition to Bender on cello, the evening’s performers included violist Katja Yeager, an active orchestral, chamber, and studio musician, and teacher in Nashville; violinist Charissa Leung, a member of the Nashville Symphony’s violin section who also enjoys teaching children violin; and internationally acclaimed pianist and chamber musician Evan Solomon. Important to mention is that in addition to Solomon’s impressive collaborative work, he recently premiered the Concerto for Piano and Orchestra by composer Gerald Busby with the Orchestra at Shelter Rock in New York.
I had never heard of the F-A-E Sonata before tonight. Leung explained that the sonata was composed in 1853 by Albert Dietrich, Robert Schumann, and Johannes Brahms for violinist virtuoso Joseph Joachim. F-A-E is an acronym for Joachim’s personal motto, Frei aber einsam—or Free but Lonely—which expressed his belief that to be a true artist, one must remain unmarried—or free—and separate from formal institutions. Dietrich composed the sonata’s first movement, Schumann composed movements two and four, and Brahms’s third movement—a scherzo—is widely considered to be the piece’s standout section, and this is where Leung and Solomon’s performance shined the most. Leung plays with a rich, beautiful tone, and her musical sensitivity enables her to exquisitely navigate through the contrasting sections of the scherzo. Solomon on the piano supplied a needed sense of leadership, establishing the correct mood and energy for Leung to buttress her admirable performance.
There is nothing like the opulent and dark sound of the viola, and Yeager’s performance of Johannes Brahms’s Viola Sonata in F minor superbly exhibited the instrument’s unique timbral quality. Brahms, reasonably known for writing some of the most wonderful melodic material, the first movement’s—Allegro appassionato—exposition contains my favorite melodies of the entire piece. In the movement’s primary theme, with its large, sweeping leaps, Yeager employed just the right amount of portamento and “weepy” vibrato indicative of this Romantic style. Also, talk about “the Devil is in the details,” after several virtuosic gestures, the piece’s energy slows during a gorgeous transitional moment into the secondary theme, which Yeager performed beautifully. Yeager talked about the work: originally written for clarinet, Brahms transcribed both his opus-15 clarinet sonatas for viola and violin—the other in E-flat major—but the violin version is rarely heard today. Brahms was initially cynical about his reworking of the sonatas for viola. He thought it might come across as “clumsy and ungratifying.” Today, the viola version of the sonatas has outnumbered the original clarinet in recordings, perhaps because there are fewer viola solos for players to choose from; Brahms’s sonatas are still necessary in trying to fill that gap.
I thought I was familiar with Gabriel Fauré’s work, since at one time I listened rather intently to a number of his solo and chamber pieces, and his music for larger ensembles. However, upon hearing Fauré’s Piano Quartet No. 1 in C minor, I was quite taken with how Romantic it sounded. I had to do a bit a research of my own to see why. When we think of French music that cusps the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries, Claude Debussy and his influence on French art music comes to mind. However, Piano Quartet No. 1 was still written in the late nineteenth century. The opening of the first movement seems like it was by Brahms because of the thick texture. The score may look French, but it sounds very German with a bit of French and, at least in the first movement, some British-pastoral moments are sprinkled in.
In the first movement, Solomon played Fauré’s highly active and thickly textured, chromatic piano part while the violin, viola, and cello executed an intricate and mostly diatonic unison melodic line with momentary non-referential diversions—said another way, the melody mostly stays inside of a key but slips in and out of it from time to time. The effect is almost uncanny—it’s absolutely gorgeous and interesting. The unison melody eventually breaks up into individual parts using harmonies constructed from the whole-tone collection, typical for a French composer of this era. Overall, Bender, Yeager, Leung, and Soloman skillfully executed the movement’s delicate conclusion.
The second movement—Scherzo. Allegro vivo—of the Fauré is lighter and glittery, like a conversation between the instruments instigated by the piano. With the breakneck tempo, the players effectively used their silent communication, precisely handing off the melodic fragments containing rapidly moving surface rhythms around to each other. It was very well executed. Also interesting was the muted section showcasing a new unique timbre to the performance.
The Adagio third movement is in C minor, and the cello begins a languidly ascending line where the viola and violin enter staggered. Mournful and melancholic, the returning ascending motive seems to reach for the light, thwarted by uncooperating harmonic progressions that fail to resolve.
According to the program notes provided by the NCMS, the blustery yet playful fourth movement—Allegro Molto—completed in 1883, is not the original music according to letters; apparently, it was a complete rewrite for exact reasons unknown. The last quarter of the movement sounds mystical and has a lighter and more shimmery texture. The ever-increasing arpeggiation in the piano and activity in the strings culminate into a dramatic ending.
I had yet another enjoyable evening of musical performances given by the musicians of the NCMS. I encourage anyone to visit the society’s website— https://www.nashvillecms.org—and view their calendar for future concerts and recitals.
From the Black Box:
Belmont’s Production of A Wrinkle in Time
Belmont’s Blackbox Theatre production of A Wrinkle in Time, an adaptation of Madeline L’Engle’s 1962 novel of the same name, ran November 10th-12th and 16th-18th. The show ran 100 minutes with no intermission. An intimate setting, there were perhaps 100 seats at the most, surrounding three sides of the stage.
Set in 1962, the year that the book was released, the characters slowly filtered in as the room filled with audience members. Most notable was Calvin’s character, played by John Harkins, who came out with his basketball and found three audience members to come up and play foursquare with him. When the play began, all of the characters grabbed a copy of A Wrinkle in Time and started to read. Using clever designs, effects, and acting, the audience was transported to other worlds to fight evil and overcome darkness.
If you’ve ever read A Wrinkle in Time, you know that it is a quite fantastical science fiction novel that takes place on multiple planets with many different kinds of creatures and aliens. I was curious to see how a small production could present those places and beings. Tracy Young’s adaptation has some truly inspired choices. For example, when Mrs. Whatsit transforms into an angelic being, the actor climbs up a wheeled stage ladder letting Meg, Charles Wallace, and Calvin “climb onto her back” by stepping onto the ladder. Later, when Charles Wallace is taken over by IT (the evil darkness), the actor goes and sits down and IT’s henchman appears holding a puppet dressed as Charles Wallace. The henchman and Charles Wallace speak in tandem to illustrate IT’s hold over him. Something that I found completely unnecessary in this particular adaptation was Reader #1’s Tesser Experiments. Throughout the play, in the background, Reader #1 performed various experiments (all labeled on poster board). At the end Reader #1 holds up a first place trophy that they have won in the science fair saying, “In conclusion: the universe exists simultaneously, everywhere, at once. With imagination and love, you can go anywhere.” This is not a quote from Madeline L’Engle, but something that Young has added. I understand that Young is using Reader #1 to illustrate ways that the book has impacted young lives. However, the fact that the book has been made into numerous plays and movies speaks for itself. The experiments were distracting and detracted from the story, rather than enhancing it.
The Blackbox Theatre improved on Young’s adaptation in a couple of ways. First, they added a few spots of humor and whimsy that aren’t written into the play. For example, when Mrs. Whatsit hears Meg discussing the tramp who has stolen 12 sheets, she looks down at the purple sheet she is holding (and has stolen) and she throws the sheet to a member of the audience to dispose of it. Second, the re-imagining of Aunt Beast was simply wonderful. Young’s adaptation, faithful to the novel, describes Aunt Beast as gray with fuzzy tentacles. The Blackbox Theatre instead had the actor wearing a huge bright blue fuzzy coat surrounded by three other actors with big blue fuzzy parasols. While almost certainly this was devised from a lack of funding to make movable tentacles, it was so fun and creative that I enjoyed it more than I would have liked any animatronic appendage.
While all of the actors were well cast, Charlotte Francis stood out in her role as Meg Murray, perfectly conveying her courage, quirkiness, and stubbornness. There is no one that can’t identify with the awkwardness of teen years and Francis reminded us of just how hard it can be to make it through high school when you’re weird. Katie Fraley also stood out in the smaller role of Mrs. Who. Mrs. Who was always my least favorite of the three mystical beings, but Fraley changed that for me. She had terrific stage presence, making the character charming and endearing. The cast and crew put on a great performance and I was glad to be able to enter the world of tesseracts with them. Madeline L’Engle said, “with each book I write, I become more and more convinced that the books have a life of their own, quite apart from me.” How right she was and how lucky we are to continue to see her story evolve.
In the Blue Room...
White Lodge: An Evening with Music of Twin Peaks
It’s hard to believe that the original television series Twin Peaks (1990–1991) was aired and canceled a year later, over thirty years ago. However, the White Lodge: Evening with Music of Twin Peaks event held at the Blue Room at Third Man Records on October 28, 2023, provided an immersive and nostalgic experience for fans of the series in Nashville. This “pre-Halloween” party, complete with Twin Peaks cosplay, was highlighted with a live performance of the soundtracks for Twin Peaks (the TV series) and the 1992 prequel feature film Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me.
Singer, songwriter, instrumentalist, and visual artist Thayer Sarrano was the evening’s organizer and host. Sarrano assembled a band consisting of Nashville local musicians, many of whom she plays and tours with regularly. Angelo Badalamenti—who passed away almost one year ago (December 11, 2022)—composed Twin Peak’s music in close collaboration with program’s creator David Lynch, and additionally, Lynch contributed many of the lyrics to the songs written throughout the franchise. I asked Sarrano what had prompted her to want to organize a Twin Peaks musical show and whether she and bandmembers felt a connection to the series. Her response:
“Everybody in the band is a fan of the show and the music of Angelo and David world. I originally thought it would be fun to have an excuse to play vibes [vibraphone] and thought it would be cool for around Halloween. It kind of morphed into something bigger in its production as ideas came in for how to make it more into a show. Then, with Angelo passing away, it seemed like a good idea to do it again [Sarrano and company first presented this show in 2022].”
The bandmembers’ names are: Matty Algers (drums), Alec Newnam (bass/bass vi), Wade Cofer (guitar), Paul Thacker (saxophone), Micah Hulscher (synthesizers), and Thayer Sarrano (vibraphone, Rhodes piano, and piano).
Nashville’s The Blue Room, located at the headquarters for Third Man Records—that’s Jack White’s, of the White Stripes, Third Man Records—between The Gulch and Pie Town neighborhoods, is an intimate live-music performance space that also holds films screenings, poetry readings, and art shows. The venue’s already dreamy aesthetic; complete with its retro interior architectural features, its iconic elephant’s head, and its thorough dispersion of cool blue light; provided the perfect backdrop for such an event. When entering, it was like stepping into Twin Peaks’s Bang Bang Bar, or otherwise known as simply the Roadhouse to the town’s locals. The Blue Room’s stage was fixed with projected images from the series—such the varied thrush perched on a pine branch at the beginning of every Twin Peaks episode, the Packard Sawmill, or other aspects of the titular town’s rustic beauty—behind a thick wash of red and blue stage lighting. Event guests enjoyed engaging in cosplay donned in clothing indicative of their chosen characters, which included several of those of the main cast like the murdered Laura Palmer, her best friend Donna Hayward, F.B.I. Special Agent Dale Cooper, Audrey and Ben Horne, waitress Shelly Johnson, and more. Especially clever were those who came as some of the more obscure characters such as the Log Lady, an unlikely oracle who conduits otherworldly messages through a log she carries; Heidi, the lesser-known Double R waitress who anxiously and oddly giggles; Aunt Nadine, complete with eyepatch; or Lil, Gordon Cole’s “moth
er’s sister’s girl,” who wears matching neon pink hair—uncommon in the early 1990s—dress, and shoes.
Much of the music for the evening was inspired by scenes in the Roadhouse, which featured actress and singer Julee Cruise—who sadly passed away only a few months before Badalamenti on June 9, 2022—lip-synching to songs from two of her albums, Floating into the Night (1989) and The Voice of Love (1992). Selected songs from both albums written by Badalamenti and Lynch were included in the scores for the original television series and Fire Walk With Me and reprised in Twin Peaks’s 2017 third season, The Return. Important to the mystique of the Twin Peaks universe is the linkage between the Roadhouse singer played by Cruise, the songs she sings, and space in which she sings them, and as a Twin Peaks superfan myself, this is where I give Sarrano and all performers major props.
A quick Twin Peaks lesson for readers unfamiliar with the franchise: Lynch’s brainchild, also with writer Mark Frost, the first season and a half of the series centered on the question, “Who killed Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee)?” F.B.I. Special Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLauchlan) comes to Twin Peaks and leads the murder investigation. While trying to find Laura’s killer, Cooper unearths a myriad of secrets about the town, involving its denizens and otherworldly forces that lurk within the sprawling forest along the town’s borders. This otherworldly realm includes the White Lodge—the home of spirits who oversee man and nature—and the Roadhouse seems to serve as an extension of this same supernatural province, evidenced by key scenes in the program. Likewise, Cruise performs in the Roadhouse wearing a mid-century styled prom dress complete with a platinum blond bouffant hairdo, a powdered white face, and striking red lipstick—for Lynch fans, Cruise’s character could perhaps be a reimagination of Eraserhead’s (1975) The Lady in the Radiator. Since Twin Peaks’s setting is 1989, Cruise’s anachronistic appearance in the show is noticeably out of place, pointing towards the uncanny.
Music is an integral component of Roadhouse scenes. Consistent with Cruise’s 1960s-“Classic”-pop-princess looks, her songs clearly contain elements of that era that indicate doo-wop and torch ballads about unrequited love. However, these songs that resemble “Classic” pop are met with a sonic quality inspired by 1980s indie-alternative music, or dreampop. Using a collection of digital and analog synthesizers, the score of Twin Peaks is immersed in a thick haze of heavy reverberation. This admixture of sonic qualities joins the notion of an often-perceived naïveté from the past with an otherworldly swath of dreampop, which, like Cruise’s appearance, evokes the surreal and uncanny. There is an indescribable yet immense beauty within this liminal space between the real and surreal that Cruise’s performances elicit, and this same aesthetic was successfully achieved by Sarrano, her band, and by all of the evening’s guest vocalists.
“Into the Night,” beautifully performed by Jessie Baylin, sonically appeared in Twin Peaks’s fifth episode when Agent Cooper and Twin Peaks law enforcement stumbled upon Cruise’s voice crooning from a vinyl record player from inside Jacques Renault’s (Walter Olkewicz) cabin in the woods. Baylin successfully captured the song’s mysterious and haunting tone. I loved Lola Kirk’s performance of “Rockin’ Back Inside My Heart,” where Cruise lip-synched to her own recording in episode seven during a pivotal scene in the Roadhouse. The innocent lyrics, “Tell your heart that I’m the one. Tell your heart it’s me,” are juxtaposed with others that are more threatening, “Tell your heart, you make me cry. Tell your heart, don’t let me die;” that juxtaposition is set against a light, “doo-woppy” feel. Kirk maintained the kitschy bent of her performance even through the more haunting and tragic aspects of the song’s lyrics.
Caroline Spence’s performance of “The World Spins” was divine. The pacing of “The World Spins” is slow, and the beautiful and sweet quality of Spence’s voice provides the perfect energy to navigate through the languid song. Appearing in the same scene of the show as “Rockin’ Back,” “The World Spins” is wildly conflicting since Cruise performs it in the scene at the same time Maddie—Laura’s look-alike cousin—is being murdered in the Palmer residence. It is especially uncanny since “The World Spins” resembles Skeeter Davis’s “The End of the World” (1962) in that both songs share similar arpeggiated ostinato patterns that seem to signify the motion of the world spinning. Both songs embody that mid-century naïveté in their sounds, but their lyrics suggest a high-stakes view of teen love; their titles and lyrics use “the world” as a reference. “The World Spins” and “The End of the World” use the point of view of a jilted lover, expressing how the world continues to spin despite their love lost. These three singers mentioned above really helped capture a specific ethos of Twin Peaks. Like how Badalamenti and Lynch’s songs sound simultaneously innocent and haunting, yet they embody a crucial essence of the show. Despite Twin Peaks’s nostalgic first impressions, in part through its score, it is only revealed that the nostalgia presented merely attempts to serve as a veil to hide the show’s trauma. When the realities contained within Twin Peaks’s narrative—about corruption, sexual violence, and brutal murder—eventually show through that veil, that nostalgia is exposed only to be a hollow illusion.
There were other stunning performances, including: “Just You,” sung by Justin Collins; “The Nightingale,” sung by Courtney Marie Andrews; “Sycamore Trees,” sung by Natalie Prass; and a standout performance of “Falling,” sung by Kim Collins. There were several fun incidental numbers, including some “Leland songs,” or a collection of random songs Leland Palmer (Ray Wise)—who is Laura’s Killer, presumably under the guise of the demon spirit BOB (Frank Silva)—sings as he appears to lose his grip with reality. “Mairsy Dotes” and “Getting to Know You” were performed by Sean Jennings. Scott Collins sang Leland-song, “Get Happy,” but Collins’s “A Real Indication” performance was a standout moment of the night. To me, Collins delivered the tune with an intriguing Zappa-esque quality. “A Real Indication” is one of the “trippier” songs in Fire Walk With Me that sonically frames one of the more surreal moments with Laura and Bobby Briggs (Dana Ashbrook) in front of Twin Peaks High School, just before Laura discovers the pages missing from her diary. One of my favorite songs from the franchise, “Questions in a World of Blue,” from the Roadhouse scene in Fire Walk With Me, was sung as a chorale by Caroline Spence, Natalie Prass, Thayer Sarrano, Wade Cofer, Matty Algers, and Sean Jennings.
The evening’s performance also included much of the non-diegetic score for Twin Peaks, including the “Main Title” with its iconic “warbly” bass sound that harkens back to the sounds of “Outlaw” country artists like Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash. Twin Peaks’s “Main Title,” which began every episode and continued franchise installment, is an instrumental version of “Falling.” Also, “Laura Palmer’s Theme” covered much of the sonic landscape in the series. Its three main sections—like its brooding C-minor pedal point, optimistic-sounding melodic ascent, and glorious main theme that shortly descends back to the starting C minor section—together are like an aural depiction of Laura’s persona audiences learn about throughout the series. Bobby’s description of Laura to Dr. Jacoby (Russ Tamblyn) fits this music the best: “And every time she [Laura] tried to make the world a better place, something terrible came up inside her and pulled her back down into Hell[…]” Also, Sarrano and company played many of the “cool” jazz tracks from the show’s more film-noir moments, like “Freshly Squeezed/Dance of the Dream Man,” “Audrey’s Dance,” and “Bookhouse Boys.” Another standout moment was how Paul Thacker’s saxophone playing captured Badalamenti’s darker and murkier jazz tracks from Fire Walk With Me. Sarrano and company created such wonderful and immersive experience for us all.
From what I could gather, I and all the guests thoroughly enjoyed our time at the White Lodge: Evening with Music from Twin Peaks; The Blue Room was still packed at the show’s conclusion. On the way out, we were all treated to cherry pie and some—excuse me, wait a minute—damn fine coffee! Whether a reprise of this event will occur during the next Halloween season is yet to be determined, but I have my fingers crossed. If you run across an advertisement for the event at some point, I strongly urge you to go. It was fun and artistically satisfying for both Twin Peaks fans and friends of fans.
