It is not often that a symphony orchestra is involved in the world premiere of a chamber music composition, but such was the case yesterday afternoon at the San Francisco Symphony (SFS) Chamber Music Series recital at the Davies Symphony Hall. The work being premiered was I am Matteo, composed by SFS Principal Trombone Timothy Higgins. It was inspired by a letter sent to Resident Conductor Christian Reif following a Concerts for Kids performance in January of 2017. The author of the letter introduced himself with in his first sentence:
I am Matteo Musso, a 13-year-old-guy with autism.
The letter explains his difficulty in writing anything at all by way of introducing “Soul Bathing,” a poem he was inspired to write following the concert.
Higgins composed a three-movement suite around this letter. The opening movement set the text of the letter itself, following by a setting of “Soul Bathing” in the second movement. The suite then concludes with a passage in which Musso offers his own definition of music as follows:
Music is nourishment for our souls with different vibrational speeds and frequencies intersecting to affect us emotionally. Different ones and combinations affect us differently and depends on our own simple caring each day. It also depends on our openness to let it affect us.
Higgins scored his suite for a septet that basically “miniaturized” the orchestra whose performance Musso had experienced. The players were violinist Dan Carlson, violist Matthew Young, oboist Robyn Smith, bassoonist Stephen Paulson, trumpeter Mark Inouye, pianist Robin Sutherland, and Higgins himself on trombone. The text was delivered by actor and singer Sharon Rietkerk; and, appropriately enough, the entire group was conducted by Reif.
This is far from the first time that a piece of music has been composed to set a text about music. Nevertheless, Higgins undertook a challenging task in trying to evoke the mindset behind the text itself. By introducing the poem with a brief “tuning up” sequence, Higgins tried to capture not only what the poem had to say about listening but also the context that inspired the poem. He also had Rietkerk deliver the text in a straightforward style, not quite monotonic but, for all intents and purposes, free of embellishment. Through the directness of that delivery, one could appreciate that the overall duration of the suite was neither too short nor too long; and the overall impression was that this music deserves more than a single listening experience.
The remainder of the program was devoted to more familiar repertoire from the final quarter of the nineteenth century. The intermission was preceded by Antonín Dvořák’s Opus 105 (fourteenth) string quartet in A-flat major; and the intermission was followed by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Opus 50 piano trio in A minor. The quartet players were violinists Wyatt Underhill and Carlson, violist Katie Kadarauch, and cellist Amos Yang. Yang also performed the trio, joined by Melissa Kleinbart on violin and Elizabeth Schumann on piano.
Dvořák began work on Opus 105 in 1895, shortly after his return from the United States. This was a prolific time for him, during which he was working on several pieces at once. As a result the ordering of the numbers he assigned to his late quartets do not always align with their respective opus numbers.
Unless I am mistaken, I was introduced to this quartet through a recital by the Cypress String Quartet. As a result of that performance, my interest in the entire Dvořák quartet canon was triggered. Cypress used to bring an element of earthiness to their Dvořák performances, suggesting that they were more interested in the rural qualities of the Bohemian countryside, rather than the refined life of the citizens of Prague. The SFS musicians tended to approach Opus 105 with a greater sense of polish and refinement but without compromising the extent to which much of the thematic material evokes folk sources.
Readers may recall that, this past December, I cited some problems of balance during that month’s chamber music recital. I suggested that, as a “recent arrival,” Underhill was still adjusting to working Davies as a chamber music setting. Yesterday he was joined by three “seasoned veterans;” and the overall balance could not have been better. I must confess, however, that, in the wake of Matt Haimovitz’ rather aggressive (the phrase in my written account was “inconsistently scrappy and indulgent”) approach to cello playing, listening to Yang’s finely polished sonorities, always crystal clear at every dynamic level, was a much appreciated balm for my own well-being as an attentive listener.
Yang was even more impressive in the Tchaikovsky trio and was well matched by both Kleinbart and Schumann. This was most apparent in realizing the composer’s approach to variations on a theme, which accounts for the massive central portion of the entire trio. Tchaikovsky was as attentive to prodigious changes in instrumentation as he was in exploring different aspects of the theme, evoking imaginative alternatives with respect to phrasing and rhetoric, as well as melodic content. Furthermore, there is no shortage of a sense of humor in many of the variations; and how often does one ever find an opportunity to cite Tchaikovsky’s capacity for wit?
Taken as a whole, between Higgins’ imaginative approach to composition and the “familiar turf” of Dvořák and Tchaikovsky, the SFS players offered up a highly satisfying afternoon of chamber music, once again reminding me of why I jump at as many opportunities to attend these performances as I can manage.
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