Not Out of Breath

Dan Albertson

[December 2024.]

[Giving support where it is due, always with pleasure. With best wishes to Gregory L. Davis, on the eve of retirement.]

Though the reputation of being cranky exists, and persists, and is undeniable (no self-delusions here – at least not on this front), it is equally true that music of considerable merit is constantly being created. Bringing it to light, a much-needed endeavor, staves off the angry middle-aged man moniker for another day.

Here, then, a brief overview, in no order of ranking, in response to recent listening experiences that transcended the norm, all by composers in their 20s and 30s:

Sehyung Kim (b. 1987, also see Eight Beacons): Exercices de langue française, a solo for bass, in eight exercises, surpasses expectation. The premise of language-learning seems dry, and an extended solo for bass is not an everyday delight, but Kim is a seasoned composer for voice (with three operas, no less) and this étude of language acquisition has more than enough acrobatics, melismas (with occasional pitchlessness) and wit to sustain itself. Learning to count, asking questions and dealing with dreaded homonyms are all in a day’s work.

Youshin Gim 김유신 (b. 1997): L’avènement enchants with its ritual nature. Scored for oboe, bassoon, violin, cello, and percussion, it evokes Korean funeral rites, exorcisms and shamanism in music by turns tame and unbridled, the latter including a cadenza for percussion marked by intensity, not virtuosity. Self-effacement at the service of musical dramaturgy. The preponderance of lower registers is automatically appealing, and the focused vision is conspicuous.

Mikel Iturregi Icaran (b. 1997): Elurra bezain isil (“as silent as the snow”), a sextet for a revamped Pierrot-plus line-up (flute, clarinet, piano, accordion, percussion, double bass), is mature far beyond its composer’s years (both he and Gim are still students). Taking its inspiration from a poem by Joseba Sarrionandia, in Basque, word and music alike are quite tricky, a sort of displaced canon in which there is the appearance of repetition and pattern that ultimately sees the entire structure swapped out. These subtle, nearly imperceptible, shifts are presented in music of delicacy, nuance and power, a veil both immediately beautiful and rewarding on repeated listening. If there were a Piece of the Year, consider this one the nominee.

Fabià Santcovsky (b. 1989): Rose der Winde, not a recent piece, in fact, but recent to these ears, a work requiring patience, the momentum churning with deliberate slowness, often starting and teasing before breaking off. A large orchestra capable of roaring and of the utmost tenderness, wrapped in hesitation. The sonorities are within the mainstream of contemporary music this decade, but the gestures, and the time afforded them, are rare. The swirls surrounding a bout of metallic percussion, for instance, are time- and tension management par excellence.

Florent Caron Darras (b. 1986): Another orchestral piece, Unité Lieu, with admirable restraint, the texture often thinned out almost to extremes, the chirping of winds an idée fixe. Gradually boiling over with effervescence only to collapse upon itself – and pace here, a justifiable and teleological use of breathlessness – from which the piece struggles to recover. Somehow it carries on, and in a way that is semi-triumphal, whether earnestly or mockingly is up for interpretation. A piece with a clear ending, no fades, no gimmicks, no indecisions. Say yes to resolutions, say yes to cadences.

Leonel Aldino Desena (b. 1996): As an epilogue, despite ignorance of its origins and intentions, a special mention for Color y Talea, at first a vocal solo, unabashed in its beauty, later with sparse accompaniment, including from accordion. This article has gone full circle.