Young Artists Program Concert | June 17, 2019

Program Notes

Matthew Pinder (b. 1998)
Piano Quintet “ethereal vision” (2019)

This piece illustrates a vivid yet illusive feeling. As a whole, it attempts to capture the experience I had while writing it. To write this work, I spent four days in a secluded house in the woods, with no internet and few neighbors nearby. There were no lights near the house and the only sound to be heard at night was that of bugs and a few tree frogs. With such seclusion I was able to immerse myself completely in this work and in the experience of solitude. Being alone in a setting like this is a powerful experience. To walk outside at night when the woods are pitch black, and very still, creates peaceful yet slightly unsettling feeling, a feeling that is intensified by staying there for an extended period of time. It gives one a chance to reflect with no distractions, to take a deep look at oneself. And with that comes consolation and pain. Both are reflected in the music, and it is from this place that I conceptualized and wrote this work.

Elise Arancio (b. 2000)
...of her agony (2019)

Initially this piece aims to evoke the feelings of torment and anguish expressed in E.E. Cummings’s poem “Writhe and / gape of tortured” through aggressive, energetic surges. It then attempts to explore the anxiety and more subtle tension felt in the lines “rasp and graze of splintered / normality”, littered with tremors and shivers, in a quiet space of both apprehension and reflection, followed by the more destructive nature of “crackle and / sag / of planes clamors of / collision / collapse”. The journey of pain felt throughout the piece abruptly transitions from one of overt turbulence and destruction, to more discreet, but somehow more poignant, sickly sweetness in its final moments, when the music is “peacefully, / lifted / into the awful beauty / of sunset…” and “enters / the becoming garden of her agony”.

Theodore Haber (b. 1999)
For the sake of Forgetting (2019)

I often feel like my mind never seems to drop things. I don’t mean in the sense of forgetfulness, in fact I feel like I am constantly forgetting things. What I mean is that I dwell and overthink, steep, and perseverate on ideas constantly. They fill my thoughts and regularly spiral downwards. This piece is both a musical exploration of gestures that mimic that downward spiral, as well as of an inner dialogue I feel like I have with myself constantly. The violin and cello act as some of these circular thoughts, wiggling around a central pitch, eventually overflowing. The piano and percussion poke at these thoughts in an incessant, abrasive way. The players engage with each other in a manner that is both sassy and passive aggressive, as well as in a way that deeply ties them together as the music builds to a climax.

Hannah Ishizaki (b. 2000)
Duo (2019)

Duo, for violin and cello, juxtaposes two contrasting characters, one aggressive and one reserved. The piece begins with a statement of aggression which quickly morphs to paint the line in a more timid light. The violin and cello are in a continuous dialogue with each other to propel the piece forward, and also themselves, constantly shifting in character. As the energy of the piece builds, the violent character dominates. Then, the piece shifts to a reserved character, suddenly creating a sense of stasis through the transformation of formerly aggressive material to then end the piece.

Michelle Li (b. 2000)
Thoughts and Murmurs (2019)

Thoughts and Murmurs is written for string quartet and marimba. The piece is built on the idea of wandering and passing musings; the strings sustain chords in the beginning, slowly pulling away, representative of the malleable and transient nature of thoughts. Because I often sigh and vocalize while in thought, the players hum and weave in and out of each other’s voices on top of the chords they play in the beginning to mimic sighing. The humming is almost a response to the initial gesture or “idea” at the very start of the piece. The melodies slowly coming into the foreground express the occasional gibberish that makes sense in my head, but no sense when manifesting in actual speech. As the piece progresses, the intensity grows until the chords in the strings make way for a jarring melody that gets handed off among the players. The music ends as the players heave one last final sigh as a unit.

Ben Champion (b. 2000)
Compenso (2019)

Compenso, meaning counter-balance, is for me an experiment which explores the relationships that are possible between instrumentalists in a chamber ensemble. The title is meant ironically as a riff on ‘counterpoint’, as the instruments play in a more improvisatory way that’s not intended to ‘line up’. Therefore, the main focus of the piece becomes the balance, and counter-balance, of the different gestures, time structures, and textural elements. Where things get interesting for the players is that unlike in a normal chamber setting, where the roles of the players are relatively pre-determined, much of the specific decisions here about pacing and timing are left ambiguous enough for the players to make personal decisions. This allows for each of the players to truly inhabit their own worlds, giving themselves to the piece in a different way than would normally be allowed.