Smashing

The musicians donned safety glasses.

by Peter Burwasser

In a recent CD release of new music, one of the performers described himself as a sound gatherer. This seems sophomoric. Aren't all composers sound gatherers? The term conjures caveman musicians, stalking about, collecting birdsongs, bursts of wind and crashing waves in their heads, as their more practical brethren gathered up nuts and berries. And yet, there are composers who have an imagination that takes them beyond the black dots on paper, and the grand, if confined, traditions of the art. These creatures are often a few steps ahead of their audiences. This was the case for the late Hungarian composer György Ligeti, a sound gatherer of the first order, whose reputation has been growing since his death in 2006.

On Dec. 7, the Network for New Music, in collaboration with the Philadelphia Chamber Music Society and Baltimore's Peabody Institute presented a program that included two Ligeti works, Aventures and Nouvelles Aventures, both from the 1960s. The music is scored for a chamber ensemble and three vocal soloists. First clue that this would be something different: The singers are given a made-up language by Ligeti, consisting of essentially familiar syllables, but also grunts, snorts and virtuosic rapid breathing. The effect was truly operatic, with stories being told with vivid contours, enhanced by a dazzlingly wide array of emotion. Ligeti is no less fantastical in the instrumental score, calling for, in addition to a basically recognizable use of piano, harpsichord, cello, bass, horn and flute, the sounds of books being flipped apart, a balloon popping and most outrageously, a tray of wine glasses smashed to smithereens on the stage of the Perelman Theater. The astute could see it coming, as the adjacent musicians donned safety glasses.

On the surface, the decision to present this music seemed daring, but the utter joy and excitement of the audience upon hearing it made it look like an easy choice. It certainly did not seem to faze the performers, who offered fearless and affectionate playing, not least the conductor, Leon Fleisher, one of the great men of contemporary American music, and at the age of 81, as eager for adventure as any college kid. Ligeti's music gives us wit, humanity and beauty in a way that salves our fretful souls. We need to hear more of it.

(p_burwasser@citypaper.net)