The following Fanfare
reviews are printed courtesy of Fanfare Magazine, 2012.
Fanfare
Magazine, Jan/Feb 2012
FEATURE REVIEW by David DeBoor
Canfield http://www.fanfarearchive.com/articles/atop/35_3/3530222.aa_Tremors_Far_Shore_Music.html
AIKMAN Violin Sonata No. 1.1 Violin Sonata No. 2.2 Violin
Sonata No. 3.3 Fantasy4 1Joshua Bell, 2Hidetaro Suzuki, 3Alexander
Kerr, 4Davis Brooks (vn); 1Deanna Aikman, 2Zeyda
Ruga Suzuki, 3Lisa Leonard (pn); 4James Aikman (elec) CENTAUR CRC 2760 (49:38)
AIKMAN Violin Concerto.1 Anias
Song.
Saxophone Concerto2 1Charles Wetherbee (vn); 2Taimur Sullivan (sax); Vladimir Lande, cond; St.
Petersburg St SO NAXOS
8.559720 (55:15)
Tremors
From a Far Shore: James Aikman Sonatas for Violin
Audio CD; Import
Centaur
Venice of the North Concerti
Audio CD
Naxos American
Aikman: Venice of the North Concerti
MP3 Download
Naxos
James Aikman has mastered what I
consider to be the most important parameter in the craft and art of musical
composition, the flow of
music. By that, I mean a sense of forward momentum that carries the listener
along in a way that convinces that the piece could have gone in no other
direction, despite the nearly infinite possibilities that exist at any given
moment in the course of the work. The result is eminent satisfaction on the
part of the auditor upon the conclusion of the work. All of this will explain
the success of this native Indiana composer in the musical world.
As a violinist listening to his
works for this instrument, I also quickly realized that they would be as
rewarding to play as they are to listen to. The most effective music for the
violin is that which allows the instrument to do what it was designed to do,
that is, to sing, and the singing lines this composer provides for his soloist
are most agreeable to the very essence of the instrument. The Centaur disc,
devoted to Aikmans chamber music for violin, opens with his Third Sonata,
which is cast in three movements, Prologue, Quasi una Fantasia, and Toccata.
The brief (barely more than one minute) prologue sets up the focal point of the
sonata—its second movement—through a series of rather dense
repeated block chords in the piano, after which the violin enters in a flowing
line. The long middle movement has several discernable sections that contrast
with each other nicely, and the improvisatory nature of the work dictates that
the music is constantly taking unpredictable turns. Occasionally, obsessively
repeated notes serve to drive the music to its several cadential points. Yet it
is all extremely convincing, and the work concludes with an affirming and
vigorous toccata.
The Fantasy eschews the piano in
favor of an electronic accompaniment, definitively performed by the composer
himself. Aikmans interest in electronic music likely was fostered by his work
with John Eaton, and although he was never a formal pupil of Eaton, Aikman
assisted him in the production of the electronics in performances of his works
at Indiana University. While the violin part is not dissimilar to that in the
other works here, the electronic score is more complex and dissonant than the
accompaniment of the piano parts, demonstrating Aikmans ability to write
significant music in disparate styles.
Aikmans Violin Sonata No. 2 opens
with an extended piano solo, drawing heavily upon syncopated rhythms and
quintal harmonies. Withholding the entrance of the violin for about a third of
the movement, an idea quite novel in itself, produces the effect of focusing
the attention of the listener on the larger structure of the piece. When it
does make its appearance in a soaring line, the violin at first appears to be
quite distinct from the ethos of the piano, but it yields and adapts to the
underlying piano syncopation, and the two instruments eventually meld together
wonderfully. The work is cast in three evenly balanced movements, Habanera,
Homage in Memoriam, and Presence of the Past.
Aikmans First Sonata from 1986
closes the disc. As mentioned in the interview, this work won him a
competition, and as an entrant in the competition myself, I was invited to
attend the televised premiere, given by Joshua Bell and Charles Webb, former
dean of the prestigious Indiana University Jacobs School of Music. This
two-movement work opens with a hushed and haunting movement, the least tonally
centered of any movement in the three sonatas. Its concluding Fieroso draws upon
rather Bartkian turns of phrase to produce an exhilarating close.
The four violinists heard on this CD
are all superb, and all have Indiana connections. Joshua Bell, a native son of
Bloomington, needs no introduction here. His live performance on this disc is
superlative in every respect. Alex Kerr (pronounced car) became concertmaster
of the Amsterdam Concertgebouw Orchestra at the amazing age of 26, and now is
one of the most sought-after teachers on the faculty of Indiana University.
Hidetaro Suzuki was for many years the concertmaster of the Indianapolis
Symphony Orchestra and Davis Brooks is currently associate professor of violin
at Butler University. The CD is worth picking up on the basis of the masterly
performances of these violinists alone, as well as for the finely wrought
accompaniments. My only extremely minor quibble is that in one or two spots in
the Fantasy and Second Sonata, the violin is not heard as distinctly as I would
have liked.
Aikmans violin concerto, subtitled
Lines in Motion, opens with a series of block chords that impart a sense of
mystery in the walking tempo to which they are set. There is simply no other
opening like this in any concerto that I can think of. The solo violin enters
with an improvisatory line in the movement marked (not surprisingly)
Prologue/Improvisation. After a time, the orchestra accompaniment drops out
and the soloist continues alone in a cadenza of sorts—not one designed to
show off his virtuosity, but instead his singing tone. The centerpiece of this
work, as in the Third Violin Sonata, is the slow middle movement, which is
longer than the two outer movements combined. Again, the violins ability to
sing is given maximum display in this movement, and the effect that Aikman
achieves in the whole mlange is quite haunting. The work closes with a moto perpetuo Toccata that is full
of energy and gives the soloist quite a workout.
Anias Song is a
pavane for string orchestra, and was commissioned by Thomas Beczkiewicz, one of
the founding forces behind the quadrennial Indianapolis Violin Competition, for
the birthday of his wife. Originally written for string quartet, the work is
unabashedly tonal, no more dissonant than Barbers Adagio for Strings (which also began life as the slow movement
of his string quartet, as you will recall). I think I hear little snippets of
the ubiquitous Happy Birthday to
You song throughout, although this might be my imagination getting too
carried away. Regardless, the piece is gently soothing during its course,
favoring longer note values over shorter ones.
Aikmans Saxophone Concerto springs
from the soil of two earlier works, Call
and Response for alto sax and piano and his Trio for Clarinet, Cello,
and Piano. The opening doesnt waste any time in setting a dramatic and declamatory
mood. While its underpinnings are consistently tonal, Aikman draws upon a rich
and complex harmonic vocabulary to excellent effect. There is metrical
complexity as well, meters shifting effortlessly to produce an unsettled
feeling in the music. Aikmans palette of orchestral sounds is likewise rich,
effectively drawing upon the harp and piano for their colors. One moment of
particular delicacy occurs where the sax in its lower register is accompanied
by sparkles from the highest register of the piano. The second movement
(Refrains) and third (Waltz Rounds) provide contrast to the first, Call
and Response, and the work ends surprisingly abruptly—I wasnt ready for
it to end, wanting to hear more of this sumptuous music! But you know what they
say: Leave your audience wanting more. I can easily imagine this work
becoming a staple in the saxophone repertory, especially given the fact that
there is still no overabundance of first-rate concertos for the instrument. The
recording is enhanced by the velvet tone and exquisite musical phrasing of
soloist Taimur Sullivan.
Aikmans music will resonate
strongly with anyone whose tastes encompass the music of the modern tonal
American school. If you enjoy the music of such composers as Richard Danielpour,
Daniel Asia, Judith Lang Zaimont, Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, and John Corigliano, I
believe that you will find that the music of James Aikman compares extremely
favorably with that of such masters. Both of these CDs are consequently very
strongly recommended. David DeBoor
Canfield
This article originally appeared in Issue 35:3 (Jan/Feb
2012) of Fanfare Magazine.
Fanfare Magazine
Barry Brenesal
FEATURE REVIEW by Barry Brenesal
AIKMAN Violin Concerto.1 Anias Song. Saxophone Concerto2
1Charles
Wetherbee (vn); 2Taimur Sullivan
(sax); Vladimir Lande, cond; St. Petersburg St SO NAXOS 8.559720 (55:15)
Aikman: Venice
of the North Concerti
Ever since the classical avant-garde
became the rear guard, and polystylism became the watchword of the new
avant-garde, Ive been slowly building a library of modern music. Its
admittedly not hard to do. A number of fine composers have rediscovered the joy
of writing for an appreciative public, and with all of the past open to
perusal—whatever else holds true, we are the most historically literate
of musically minded generations—nothing is off-limits either in itself or
as part of a continuum. Aikmans music was brought to my attention more than a
year ago, and Ive been looking forward to reviewing a new disc of his music.
The Violin Concerto, Lines in
Motion, dates from 2009. Its in three movements, the first titled
Prologue/Improvisation. A restrained, clockwork texture of pointillistic
notes, reminiscent of Stravinsky in the 1930s, provides striking contrast to
the soloist, who enters roughly a minute-and-a-half later in rhapsodic vein.
Figurative Baroque touches appear in the cadenza. The finale, a toccata,
continues with similar Baroque allusions, and Stravinsky is once again in the
mix. The lack of contrasting elements and the overly insistent, simple,
repetitive rondo theme make for pretty dry fare, though. Its the weakest
section of the concerto. But the central movement, a Quasi una Fantasia
thats considerably longer than both its musical bookends together, is the
expressive heart of the work, and its a winner. Starting with a meditation on
material from the first movement, the violin soon gains a greater lyrical
ambit, and the piece at times recalls Barber in its harmonies and thematic
warmth.
Anias
Song (2006) was commissioned by a co-founder of the International
Violin Competition of Indianapolis, Thomas Beczkiewicz. (The work is also a
birthday gift to Beczkiewiczs wife.) Its probably just my imagination, but
the opening intervals recall the start of the tune Happy Birthday. Calling it a slow-moving study of string textures
would completely miss the graceful character of the piece, with an undertow of
somberness.
The Alto Saxophone Concerto of 2010
opens with a movement titled Call and Response. (The work as a whole is
derived from two previous pieces by Aikman, his Call and Response for alto saxophone and piano and a trio for
clarinet, cello and piano.) Its a moderately more astringent composition in
its harmonies and moments of clashing bitonality, though never dense, and
accompanied by Aikmans frequent recourse to light, danceable rhythms. The
second movement, Refrains, is a motoric toccata with a chant-like theme
recalling Javanese gamelan music in its repetitiveness and intervals, but also
features a contrasting countertheme in augmentation, and a subtler weighting of
textures than in the Violin Concertos toccata. Waltz Rounds furnishes the
relatively short finale. The dance itself is only suggested, both in rhythm and
clichs, hinted at and playfully tossed about. Its an attractive conclusion to
a piece of music that is thoroughly entertaining, with very idiomatic writing
throughout for its solo instrument.
The St. Petersburg musicians perform
adequately under Vladimir Lande, but I find their readings a bit stodgy and
uninflected. The Waltz Rounds in particular would have benefited from more
vivacity and lift. By contrast, both Charles Wetherbee and Taimur Sullivan are
first-rate soloists, with excellent tone and facility. The sound is good and
forward.
In conclusion, this is a welcome
album. Aikman demonstrates throughout a convincing control of orchestration and
a subtle rhythmic palette. It doesnt hurt, either, that he has at his command
a nostalgic lyricism that creates still moments of grave beauty.
Definitely recommended. Barry Brenesal
http://www.fanfarearchive.com/articles/atop/35_3/3530221.aa_Tremors_Far_Shore_Music.html
Fanfare Magazine, Jan/Feb 2012
http://www.fanfarearchive.com/articles/atop/35_3/3530223.aa_Tremors_Far_Shore_Music.html
FEATURE REVIEW by Jerry Dubins
AIKMAN Violin
Concerto.1
Anias Song.
Saxophone Concerto2 1Charles Wetherbee (vn); 2Taimur Sullivan (sax); Vladimir Lande, cond;
St. Petersburg St SO NAXOS
8.559720 (55:15)
Aikman: Venice
of the North Concerti
The title to the album, Venice of the North Concerti, had me
scratching my head. A number of European cities have been called Venice of the
North, most prominent among them St. Petersburg, Amsterdam, and Bruges. So,
color me strange if my expectations were raised for a bouquet of Baroque
concertos by Dutch composers—Wassenaer and de Fesch, for example. But
James Aikman, it turns out, is as American as apple pie, born in Indianapolis
in 1959, a student of American composers Michael Schelle, Earle Brown, and
Donald Erb, among others, and his works on this disc are recent enough for the
ink to have barely dried.
So what is the Venice of the North
connection? Well, Aikman was granted a Fulbright for postgraduate work in the
Netherlands, where he continued his musical studies under Louis Andriessen and
at the Royal Conservatory in The Hague. He also earned a fellowship at the
University of Michigan, where he now serves on the faculty.
Aikman was introduced to Fanfares readers in 24:2 in a review by
Michael Fine of three of the composers chamber works. Fine called the music
accessible and inventive and an eclectic use of jazz-like rhythms and pop
idioms merged seamlessly with the formality of the fugue.
Accessible, of course, is one of
those code words we invoke to telegraph to the reader that the music is
listener-friendly, easy on the ear, and easily digested. I wouldnt have
expected a former student of Dutch modernist Louis Andriessen to fit that
description, but indeed, Aikmans music does. The Violin Concerto, Lines in
Motion, was written in 2009. Its in three movements, with both the first,
Prologue/Improvisation, and the third, Toccata, being short and almost exactly
equal in length. They serve as bookends to a 13-minute Quasi una Fantasia that
is the heart of the work. Aikman begins his Violin Concerto with an orchestral
introduction that, in its insistent repetition of a narrow compass of
intervals, suggests a Minimalist at work in the style of Philip Glass. But with
the violins entrance, the impression is dispelled, for this is to be a work of
soaring lyricism, romantic beauty, and emotional urgency. Whether intended or
not, I cant say, but hints of Lalos Symphonie
Espagnole and other famous violin works of the 19th and 20th centuries
permeate the radiant and intensely gripping central movement. Concertos by
Barber, Korngold, Rzsa, and Lee Holdridge come to mind. Unquestionably, this
is a major addition to the 20th-century violin concerto repertoire, and soloist
Charles Weatherbee is simply fantastic. Raymond Tuttle reviewed Weatherbees
Naxos recording of another fine contemporary violin concerto by Jonathan
Leshnoff in 32:6 and called the violinist first class, an appraisal
reaffirmed here.
Anias
Song, a pavane for string orchestra, was
written three years earlier. It was commissioned by Thomas J. Beczkiewicz as a
birthday present for his wife, Ania Dowgiallo. Originally, the piece was scored
for string quartet and is based on the musical notes A, D, B, the initials of
Anias name. Note author Andrew Mead relates that Ania is of Polish royalty and
that she and her family lost much in World War II. She emigrated to the U.S., became
a citizen, and married Beczkiewicz. Recently, she was able to return to Poland
to visit, and Anias Song is a
tribute to the nobility that lives within the sublime acceptance of lifes
travails. If you ever get tired of listening to Barbers Adagio for Strings, Aikmans Anias
Song should make a good substitute. Aikmans piece, however, is not
emotionally shattering in the same way Barbers is. It begins slowly and
softly, builds to a big climax, and then subsides; that much the two works have
in common. But theres almost a sense of transcendent peace and joy rather than
unbearable sorrow in Anias
remembrance of things past. Yes, youll shed a tear or two along the way, but
youll also smile. What emotionally stirring and spiritually uplifting music
this is!
Aikmans Alto Saxophone Concerto,
completed in 2010, is the most recently composed work on the disc. Though each
of its three movements sports a descriptive title—Call and Response,
Refrains, and Waltz Rounds—the work is more regularly patterned than
the earlier violin concerto in that it is more oriented toward classical
design; the first movement is the longest and weightiest, while the last
movement is the shortest of the three and fulfills the role of a finale in its
dance-like character.
In style and musical vocabulary,
however, the saxophone concerto represents a fairly significant departure from
the two previous works. Its the most modernistic in its approach to rhythm,
dissonance, and orchestral scoring. And while I wouldnt characterize the music
as atonal, Aikman himself points out that his material is derived from a series
of overlapping triads that echo in construction the tone row Alban Berg devised
for his violin concerto. Of course, anyone familiar with that work knows that Berg
adopted Schoenbergs 12-tone technique and then adapted it to his own ends,
transforming it into a less rigid, nonassociative tonal atonality with roots in
the postromanticism of Mahler and Zemlinsky and the Expressionism of
pre-12-tone Schoenberg.
As noted a few years back when I
reviewed a couple of CDs by saxophonist Theodore Kerkezos, I have a special
fondness for the alto sax, it being the instrument my father played. Ive not
had the pleasure of hearing Taimur Sullivan before, though I see that two of
his CDs have been reviewed by Robert Carl and Raymond Tuttle. In a score like
Aikmans alto saxophone concerto, which is both quite contemporary-sounding and
unfamiliar, its a bit difficult to judge the playing of any artist, but to my
ear, Sullivan produces a smooth, evenly balanced tone and navigates the
technical obstacles of the score with ease and poise.
This is a wonderful release of
enjoyable new works that comes with a strong buy recommendation. Jerry Dubins
This
article originally appeared in Issue 35:3 (Jan/Feb 2012) of Fanfare Magazine.
Fanfare Magazine, Jan/Feb 2012
Maria Nockin
http://www.fanfarearchive.com/articles/atop/35_3/3530224.aa_Tremors_Far_Shore_Music.html
FEATURE REVIEW by Maria Nockin
AIKMAN Violin Sonatas: Nos.
1–3. Fantasy for Violin and
Electronics Alexnder Kerr, Davis Brooks,
Hidetaro Suzuki, Joshua Bell (vn); Lisa Leonard, Zeyda Ruga Suzuki, Deanna
Aikman (pn); James Aikman (electronics)
CENTAUR CRC 2760 (49: 38)
Tremors From a
Far Shore: James Aikman Sonatas for Violin
James Whitton Aikman was born in
Indiana in 1959. While at a public elementary school, he was introduced to the
piano, and he loved it. After completing high school, he majored in music at
Butler University. He did his graduate work at the University of Indiana, where
he studied with Frederick Fox and Harvey Sollberger. In 1993, he received his
doctorate from that school. Meanwhile, his compositions began to win prizes
around the world.
He writes, To create, to seek ones
true potential, requires effort, consistent and dedicated. To write music is an
honor. Too many take art for granted and this reduces its quality and its
impact on humanity. We have a duty to aspire to the greatness that has been
passed to us through the ages in all fields of endeavor.
His Violin Sonata No. 1 won first
prize at the 1987 Carmichael Competition. One of the judges was violinist
Joshua Bell, who recorded it for this disc in 1989 with the composers wife,
pianist Deanna Aikman. That same year Aikman wrote his Fantasy for Violin and Electronics, which features a live violin
soloist playing with taped electronic sounds. The 1991 revised version on this
disc has the violin alternating with the tape at first, but eventually both
musical entities play together and the free interplay of the finale is fun to
hear. Aikman has a particular interest in the relationship between the piano
and violin in an equally weighted discourse and his forays into this area of
music are most successful.
Aikman went on to receive a
Fullbright Fellowship, which he used to study in Amsterdam with composer Louis
Andriessen. The first thing that the Dutch teacher insisted upon was that his
students find their own voices so that their music would always be entirely
their own. Aikman wrote his Second Violin Sonata during his stay in Amsterdam.
The first, Habanera, features the piano and uses the Cuban rhythm in music that
sounds more Asian or contemporary European than Caribbean. The second movement,
Homage in Memoriam, features the violin in a more lyrical pose. The third and
final movement, The Presence of the Past, harmonizes the two instruments in a
fast and furious duet that shows the tremendous virtuosity of violinist
Hidetaro Suzuki and pianist Zeyda Ruga Suzuki.
The Sonata No. 3 was written in 2002
for Royal Concertgebouw concertmaster Alexander Kerr and pianist Lisa Leonard,
who play it here. It begins with attention-demanding chords by the pianist, but
soon dissolves into a lyrical line for the violin. There is, however, a
returning figure that begins at a moderate pace and speeds up to a presto before it is finished. That gives
the work a propulsive quality that holds the listener on the edge of his seat.
Perhaps this is the reason that the Third Sonata is placed first on the disc.
In any case, all the music presented is interesting and well played by
first-class virtuosi. Bell and D. Aikman recorded the Sonata No. 1 at a live
performance decades ago at Indiana Universitys recital hall in Bloomington.
The sound is good, but does not have the pristine quality of a more modern
studio recording. The sound is somewhat clearer on the 1998 recording of the
Sonata No. 2 with the Suzukis. The best sound is on the more recently recorded
tracks containing the Sonata No. 3 and the Fantasy
for Violin and Electronics. Maria
Nockin
This article originally appeared in Issue 35:3 (Jan/Feb
2012) of Fanfare Magazine.
Susan Nisbett
December 18, 2011
(James Aikmans)
latest CD, for Naxos, is attracting brilliant reviews in the likes of Fanfare
and Gramophone, which recently declared, This could easily be a best-seller
in the USA if there were some mechanism to make innovative American composers
the talk of the town.
His compositions are
already the talk of the music world, and hes won many honors and commissions.
Now he writing a string quartet for the Parker Quartet, and he has a new work for
the distinguished American flutist James Pellerite, that combines Native
American flute, chamber orchestra and electronic media.
The violin concerto,
Lines in Motion, that headlines his Venice of the North Concerti disc for
Naxos was a nominee for both the Pulitzer Prize in Music and the Grawemeyer
Prize. Vladimir Lande, the conductor
who leads the St. Petersburg State Symphony Orchestra on the CD—in the
violin concerto (with Charles Wetherbee
as the excellent soloist), Anias Song, and a saxophone concerto with soloist
Taimur Sullivan—is already
proposing an Aikman double concerto for a prestigious team, violinist Sarah Chang and pianist Xiayin Wang.
To read the complete review, please visit http://www.annarbor.com/entertainment/aikman-feature
Laurence Vittes
Gramophone, December 2011
The soloistsare spectacularAnias Songmakes an ideal interlude
between two wonderful concertos.
To read the complete review, please
visit Gramophone
Sounds of America online: http://www.exacteditions.com/exact/browse/345/365/29940/3/11
Infodad.com, November 2011
The three Aikman works here draw on
multiple stylistic influences, with distinct jazz and pop-music elements and
very different levels of expressiveness. The Violin Concerto is the most
intricate of the pieces, retaining a strong flavor of improvisation even when
thoroughly written-outAt the other emotional and structural end of things is
the dissonant and rather harsh Saxophone Concerto, whose clarity of
orchestration strongly contrasts with its generally acerbic tone and a sound
recalling that of Alban Berg. Anias
Songfunctionsas a respite for the earthe orchestra here is Russian and
the recording was made in St. Petersburg, yet nothing sounds exotic or as if it
is played by musicians uncomfortable with Aikmans American style. Read complete
review
Jay Harvey
The Indianapolis Star, October 2011
Quasi una Fantasia, is a brilliant
piece of work—quite discursive but somehow coherent and a virtuoso
exercise in orchestration. As for the finale, it has aspects of the gratuitous
display of churning energy often found in the music of one of Aikmans
teachers, Donald Erb. I enjoyed the occasional abrupt pauses, as if
Aikman was conscious of needing to check the perpetual-motion tendency of this
movement.
The Saxophone Concerto seems to be
written to integrate the solo voice more with the orchestra, but perhaps
a judicious recording balance was achieved here and that may deserve the
credit. Taimur Sullivans unruffled agility and pristine tone on the alto
saxophone are admirable throughout. Read complete
review
David Denton
David's Review Corner, September 2011
Ive
written this music as a contribution to the musical repertoire, comments James
Aikman in the discs programme notes. Born in the
States in 1959, and with Donald Erb, William Bolcom and Louis Andriessen
featuring among his mentors, his subsequent career has been divided between
composition and teaching on the faculty of the University of Michigan. On first
acquaintance he has developed a highly personal style, the Baroque era forming
the underlying influence to which he has added a new harmonic language taking
us where we least expect to travel. Dating from 2009, the Violin Concertos
opening statement possesses the transparency we find in the music of Alban
Berg, before moving to a luxuriant quality in the central Quasi una Fantasia
that could well have come from Samuel Barber. The finale is a modern slant on a
Toccata with a very proactive role for the soloist. Though the Alto Saxophone
Concerto, completed the following year, has that freedom of expression of the
great jazz saxophonists, it is expressed in atonal influences of the Second
Viennese School, two fast outer movements surrounding a mood of contemplation
where the soloist is found doodling around an orchestral accompaniment often
erupting in angry outbursts. The disc is completed with an arrangement for
string orchestra of a score originally for string quartet, Anias Song, a piece that could well have formed the beautiful
backdrop for a Hollywood film romance scene. Two outstanding North Americas
musicians, Charles Wetherbee and Taimur Sullivan, are the dedicated soloists in
their respective concertos, and share the stage with one of St. Petersburgs
more recently created orchestras directed by their American principal guest
conductor, Vladimir Lande.
2011
Interviews
Tobias Fischer
Tokafi.com
http://www.tokafi.com/15questions/interview-james-aikman/
Interview with James Aikman
November 8th 2011, by Tobias
Fischer |
Tradition hasn't just had a bad run - most of the 20th century
was spent trying to mock it, crush it and break with it. The past hundred years
of musical history are a battle field strewn with the corpses of those who were
deemed too weak, undetermined and lacking in vision to stand up to that
challenge: When, in 1972 prominent serialist George Rochberg wrote a 'classical
retro' movement into his third string quartet, his colleagues were appalled,
ousting Rochberg from their ranks. And yet, audiences, in a way, have proved
smarter than composers, separating the valuable from the purely progressive
and insisting that the bond between the past and the present not be
artificially severed. To James Aikman, too, tradition – as an
intergenerational telegraph line – has constituted an integral part of
his creative philosophy. After all, without lineages, there'd be no continuity
and without continuity, there'd be no community, no communality, no sharing and
no spiritual growth. And so, in 1994, as an aspiring composer with a burning
passion for Stravinsky, Aikman left his hometown of Indianapolis - where his
work had already met with appreciation, success and the admiration of leading
instrumentalists like Joshua Bell - to study with Louis Andriessen in
Amsterdam. It would turn out to be a pivotal moment for him, as his courses
with Andriessen extended far beyond conventional borders of curriculum and
genre. Through his short, but intense stay in the Dutch capital, Aikman
discovered a lifeline running from the 17th century to the present, a jugular
pumping creative blood into a body far greater than that of a single person.
When he returned to the States two years later, he hadn't just discovered his
own voice and confirmed his calling as a composer - he knew where he belonged.
This realisation would prove to be an essential support over the decade to
follow, as Aikman developed a style confidently and seemingly effortlessly
making use of the full ressources at his disposal. In his work, elements from
the Viennese School mingle with jazzy pulses. Cinematic string fields clash
with rock-infused chord blocks. Classical formats are taking turns with new
structural concepts. And in a typical 21st century paradox, Aikman's command of
'acoustic' orchestration and timbre has been shaped by his profound knowledge
of electronics. To him, these two latter realms are natural companions and
complementary rather than competitive forms of musical expression – as
demonstrated on his album Tremors from a far Shore, on which he explores the
combinatorial potential of piano, violin and electronic sound synthesis. His
latest album, Venice of the North Concerti, meanwhile, outwardly appears to be
more traditional. And yet, to the careful observer, there are plenty of
convention-defying juxtapositions at work here as well, moments that sound
perfectly familiar at first, but reveal confounding contrasts upon closer
inspection. It is only Aikman's deep belief in the importance of lineage that
makes the fantastical seem perfectly natural. This, after all, is what
traditions do, when applied carefully: Putting an artist in touch with the past
to allow him to reach out into the future.
Stravinsky and Andriessen, with whom you later studied, were
part of a long lineage of inspirations and teachers. Why is this lineage so
important to you?
The question of why I respect
compositional lineage is a philosophical inquiry, and deals with the concept of
ideas. Ideas transcend time. Music is an idea. Therefore, music has the ability
to transcend time. Its effect does as well Since music also takes place in
time, it has its own special problems to solve. Though the individual language
may have changed, these compositional matters have not changed throughout
history. Working with those whose musical results you respect puts you in touch
with these same interests. This, also, has the ability to transcend space and
time, in my opinion.
You
don't use the term composer light-heartedly.
I believe a composer
needs to have something musically meaningful to say! Having meticulous craft,
though it is very important, isnt quite enough. It is ones duty, as a
musician, to genuinely project meaning in the music. Whether composer,
instrumentalist, conductor, journalist, critic or audience member, the main
duty that should never be lost is being true to the ideal of the music being
conveyed. For true composers, this is very serious business, yet, a steady slew
of dilettantes seem to jump into the arena since subjective evaluation is
ultimately the criteria. But to be a composer means to live, fully in ones own
time, and to be interested in many musics of the present and of the past. Not
only interested, but dedicated and knowledgeable enough to learn, and to have
studied a bit, what it is about various musics that excites and brings
emotions, and musical meaning. Furthermore, it takes tremendous selfdiscipline
to carry out ones own ideas in relative isolation. The fruits of dedicated
labor do arise upon successfully completing a work and sharing it with others.
We live in an exciting time, where all music that has ever been composed,
performed, and/or improvised and recorded, is available to hear. We take this
for granted. Composers individual aesthetic filters have just begun to express
the possibilities this expanded palette is beginning to provide. Nothing is
anachronistic. All is vocabulary.
Stravinsky's death was an epiphany for you. Was that because it proved
that the time of great composers wasn't over?
Absolutely! Stravinsky
was my favorite composer from my elementary school music history classes. Those
early ballets are so extraordinary. I must have missed the class where my
teacher Mrs. Fidler told us he was still alive! So when, as a twelve year-old,
I heard Walter Cronkite, on CBS News, announce that the great composer, Igor
Stravinsky, had died in New York, it really struck me that great classical
music was still being composed. Shortly afterwards, my grandfather, with whom I
was very close, died. We were next door neighbors and the best of pals. I will
never forget being in awe of his extraordinary mind and his inspiring,
indominatable spirit. After his death when I was thirteen, I stopped piano
lessons. Everything stopped for a while, except my volatility, which increased.
But music was always an outlet, a place to pour my energies, and a vehicle for
communication and social interaction as well.
Elliott Carter had to fight considerable
resistance in order to be able to pursue his dream of life as a composer. How
did the situation present itself to you?
I am aware that the American
composer, Charles Ives, who sold insurance to the well-to-do businessman Elliot
Carter, Sr.s family, gave the young Carter encouragement. As in most families
with a business background, I rather suppose a few conversations centered on
how the young Carter would survive selling his wares to such a small slice of
the market. It is a hard case to make for anyone trying to survive on art
music, for that market is even smaller now. The universities are current
patrons. I have had immense life struggles, but from the start, my family has
always been supportive, in ways too numerous to mention. There is not room for
me to express the depth of my gratitude.
That does not mean we have not
had conversations which point out such things as I mention above. Further, I
have been subjected to goodnatured jousting in more direct terms, Why dont
you just write something I can sing in the shower?
At home, there was always a lot of classical
music around. Whenever you'd leave the house, though, you'd be exposed to rock,
pop and jazz. How did these different worlds coexist in your mind?
My
childhood was one in which all types of music existed. My earliest
recollections are those of my sister and I asking Mom to play just one more
Chopin Prelude before bed time. Our favorite, the C Minor, we called the
banging song. That short piece contained such mystery, depth and power. So
music began as an illuminating, magical and important part of my life. I
tinkered around and began trying to emulate what I heard. These improvisations
led to piano lessons, and to elementary music theory. My first piano teacher
was my cousin, Kathy Murphy. I then took lessons with Marie Moore, a Japanese
WWII bride who was studying with Menahem Pressler, the great pianist of the
Beaux Arts Trio, at the time. She took me to his recitals, though was very
strict, and I received a thorough introductory grounding in music theory, as
well as pianistic technique.
We also had this self-contained
record player and a bunch of albums from various countries of the world. In
addition to some great American folk music, there were Italian songs, Irish music,
songs from Spain and Mexico, French chansons, etcetera. I used to love playing
those records as a child.
You also mentioned your elementary school music teacher, Mrs. Clara
Fidler as an important early influence ...
I owe much to her for
teaching me how to listen to music. She would 'drop the needle' in her grade
school music classes. Imagine, we were taught to differentiate Bach from
Handel, Mozart from Haydn, Schubert from Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky and
so forth - all before we were allowed to cross the street by ourselves.
Fantastic! She had us singing, playing recorders, playing drums, and as a
whole, we would present four or five school holiday concerts during the year.
She also encouraged my band, which gave me early experience in creating music,
and working with musicians in elementary school.
I have thought
of another early influence which is in a way unique. My family, on both sides
through my grandparents, enjoy saddlebred horses. I remember as a child being
astonished how the horses kept time with the music during shows. In fact, of
course, it was the organist or big band who kept time with the 5 different
gaits of the horse. The magic of music, and the fact that it actually
emphasized particular motion and contrasting emotions, became visually apparent
to me.
When did jazz
enter the picture?
During high school. I then learned a great deal
from lessons with Steve Allee, an amazing pianist from Indianapolis who has
played with many jazz greats, and who has his own trio and big band. In Indy, a
wonderful stride piano player, James Step Wharton, taught me to solo over his
chord changes, how to harmonize and think about chord structure. I was in a
jazz fusion band with bassist Gary Montgomery, nephew of Wes Montgomery, the
legendary guitarist. During high school, I also had a trio with vibraharpist
Paul Ray, and saxophonist, Tom Mitchell, who has recently been featured in
Jimmy Buffets band for over a decade. I played in a pop band too. We stayed
together for seven years, playing on college campuses, Midwest nightclubs, the
US National Figure Skating Championships in 1982, a Coca-Cola sponsored album
project and an MTV commercial video. But alongside this, I had two years of
college level music theory in high school, with a dedicated composer named Doug
Wagner, and a terrific music history class. I listened to the music of Charles
Ives. His 4th Symphony especially struck me then. So did the music of John
Coltrane, McCoy Tyner, Freddie Hubbard, Oscar Peterson, Yes, and Frank Zappa,
from whom I learned about Edgard Varse, whose music is quite unlike anything
of its time.
So to answer your question about diverse influences,
to be honest to myself and my tastes, in my compositional world, all musical
influences are welcomed.
I'm sure this diverse education is at least partially responsible for
the eclecticism in your work ...
I find myself influenced by the muse
of whatever I am interested in at the moment, so to speak. By the time my piece
is complete, I am interested in, or inspired by, something new. Originality is
never the issue, it is always simply work to be done, and dedication to that
work. Regarding aesthetics, I have usually found that quality trumps all.
Creative expression is innate, and manifests in each work of someone who cares
about quality, and who is dedicated to achieving it. Ones voice comes through
writing music, after the music has been written, and is not for the composer to
decipher or manipulate during its construction. It is something that evolves
after years of hard work. It is not a consciously controlled, or projected,
manifestation. It is the result of ones lifetime in music made
manifest.
Your
biography mentions that, early on, you drew from experience in electronic
music for helping you develop a strong sense for instrumental color. What kind
of experience was this?
I learned firsthand, fundamental
orchestrational concepts. Basically, recording electronic music in the studio -
now on our computers, with the immediate playback capabilities - teaches anyone
with ears that certain qualities of sounds consume others. Pure tones are eaten
by those rich in harmonics. The concept of combining instruments, whether
registrally layering them, or having them play in unison, becomes a bit like
painting. Too much color can muddy the whole thing up. Clear out spatial room
for prominent lines that are more devoid of overtones. Take advantage of the
overtone series, its spacing and sonic potential. Most importantly, the fact
that instruments can play for long periods of time, does not mean that the ears
do not like variety.
Being in an electronic music ensemble at
Indiana University also opened my ears. While there, we provided electronic
music for John Eatons opera, The Tempest, and I was a consultant to his
development of an idea, involving an X/Y axis, for live, keyboard control.
Various parameters could be programmed, such as vibrato, dynamics and pitch
shifting, into either the X or Y axis pick-up strips, built into the keys, thus
making live performance in electronic music far more musical. This was for
Robert Moog who was then working at Kurzweil Instruments. (Ray Kurzweil is
amazing!) I am not sure if the idea was ever implemented. I havent thought
about that in years. I got to meet Robert Moog at one of John Eatons gatherings
after a production.
You
started studying music in the 70s. The academic system in the States has often
been described as a hermetically sealed off world, disconnected from the daily
lives of most other people.
I would not agree that the university is hermitically
sealed off and disconnected. It may seem that it is, but it allows creative
people a place to prosper and flourish. Extraordinary advances come from the
research being done in universities. Scientific discoveries, medical
breakthroughs, etcetera, and I think even the corporate brainstorming models
came straight out of academe. I enjoyed the fact that professors in various
subjects were notable. In fact, after taking philosophy and logic courses, I
nearly switched majors. But the philosophy chair knew I was a composer and told
me, with a smile, the only thing less practical in this world than a degree in
music composition is a degree in philosophy.
As you once put it, ironically, your first
significant success was found in purely acoustic music.
A
transforming event in my life took place in 1982. The International Violin
Competition of Indianapolis was created by legendary violinist, Josef Gingold
and by Thomas J. Beczkiewizc, a cultural leader in the State of Indiana. This
competition was an immediate, extraordinary success, due to its co-founders and
the immensity of talent which they brought to the city. My mother volunteered
our family to host a competitor, and our violinist guest was Mihaela Martin,
then of Rumania. There was some question, even up to a week beforehand, if the
Rumanian government would allow her to compete for fear of her possible
defection. But since her family was in Rumania, they eventually gave approval
and Mihaela arrived days before the first round. It was such an exciting time.
She was just fantastic, knew a good bit of English, and would watch music
videos inbetween practicing in our family room. For a budding composer, it was
a Godsend. Her talent and virtuosity shined from her violin in tones, and
scalar flourishes I had not heard before. Her dedicated practicing gave me a
new impression of what it takes to be a world class artist. In any event, as
each round of the month-long competition ensued, Mihaelas playing was
astounding. However, before her final concerto performance with the
Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra under John Nelson, she had a crisis of
confidence. The pressure, travel, new circumstances, and rushed routine had
gotten to her. My mother, who is remarkably sensitive and intuitive, consoled
her, built her up, reinforced all the positive traits Mihaela brought to the
music, and basically lifted her spirits which truly soared during the concerto.
She brought the house down and John Nelson said she was an artist already with
whom he could make significant music. Mihaela won the competition, and it was a
triumphant, exciting time for all of us. I was able to meet and get to know
Josef Gingold, Tom and Ania Beczkiewicz, Henryk Szeryng, and many
exceptional artists. I promised to write a piece for Ms. Martin upon her return
to judge the next quadrennial competition in 1986. I delivered on that promise,
composing most of the fast second movement of my first sonata for violin and
piano in nightclub dressing rooms during my bands set breaks in the spring/summer
of 1985.
It sounds
like a life-changing experience ...
During this time, I would wake up
with a daunting nudge to quit pop music altogether and devote myself fully to
the serious study of music, which I did in autumn of 1985. I wrote the lyric
first movement of my sonata during the spring of 1986, then copied it in
time to proudly present my sonata to Mihaela! And imagine this, even during her
full-time duties as a juror, Mihaela made the time to learn my sonata during
the month of September, and gave its world premiere that very month in Indiana
Universitys Recital Hall with pianist, Deanna Aikman. They also recorded the
work. Joshua Bell heard a recording while judging the Carmicheal Competition,
and he chose to play the piece with pianist Charles Webb, then Dean of the
Indiana University Jacobs School of Music. Their performance was recorded and
broadcast live from the television studios of WFIU/WTIU. Thereafter, Josh Bell
and I became friends, and many other fine violinists began to play my music.
In the 90s, you then
moved to the Netherlands. What was Amsterdam like at the time?
I had
been to Amsterdam in 1988 for the Gaudeamus Musicweek, as a guest, being a
laureate of the Bourges competition. I love the country, the rich cultural
history, the wonderful and intelligent people, and first discovered the music
of Louis Andriessen. Upon returning to the US and completing my graduate
studies, I took up contact with him, via letter. I asked to study with him and
he said, I suppose it should not be a problem. I was awarded a Fulbright
Fellowship in Music Composition, to study with him. Amsterdam was then, and is
now, a vibrant center for contemporary music. They have coffee shops/bars which
also contain theaters in which new music is actively performed for the public,
at a cost that is reasonable. This type of environment has recently begun
sprouting in New York and around the States.
What were these courses with Andriessen
like?
I was a private student of Louis Andriessen. I wrote music,
brought it to the lessons, we talked about it, and about many things: Mozarts
letters to his father, the importance of metronomic exactitude when composing,
centrality of idea and process in a piece of music, painting and Dutch artists
and much more. Louis is incredibly knowledgeable of many things, but especially
of music throughout history, and would point out, in musical scores of say,
Bach, or Chopin, ideas which paralleled, architecturally speaking, sections of
music I had brought in. This was inspiring, as well as daunting. We met every
two weeks, on Mondays, his teaching day, in his apartment on the Emperor's
Canal, Keizersgracht. I can not possibly begin to tell you how much it meant to
me to be a composer, composing music in Amsterdam, a city which names streets
after composers. I was treated remarkably well by the Dutch, who highly respect
composers. Louis invited me to all concerts of note, and included me in his
circle of friends. At one point, I remember telling Louis that I woke up one
morning absolutely knowing that I am a composer. He replied, then you dont
need me anymore. We will see each other at concerts. This was a pivotal moment
in my life, sitting at my keyboard in my apartment in Amsterdam, writing music
all day, and going to concerts at night, knowing that all my hard work had put
me on the right track. Upon returning to Indiana, I brought with me the firm
knowledge that music is a continuum, and that I was part of it.
When you returned to
the States in the mid-90s, the situation seemed to be confusing to a lot of
composers. Could you sympathise with someone like George Rochberg, who had
already in the 1960s left the maximalist race and returned to the safety
offered by traditions?
I knew George Rochberg and admire his honesty
and his music. He has a book with a foreword by William Bolcom, called, The
Aesthetics of Survival, which addresses these concerns very well. William
Bolcoms musical vocabulary allows him to shift between between various musics
on a dime, effortlessly, and uncontrived. In my case, I was freed by a
confidence in my own work, and from the challenge of reconciling the many
musics of my experience. Also, from a comment by William Bolcom coincidentally,
who said I would always be fine if I just write what I hear. Music is an aural
art, after all is said and done, and after years of studying techniques, forms,
methods, it all boils down to what the composer actually hears. In that, I was,
and remain, confident.
In
which way have your compositional challenges changed over the past decades?
It
is a gift to write music. At first, most young composers write to
impress. Impress their teachers, their colleagues, their girlfriends,
their boyfriends, etcetera. But life happens and we realize that composing is
more than an elevated form of showing off. Once the weight of writing something
meaningful, music that strikes the mind and the heart, has been achieved, the
challenge intensifies to do that with each piece. But we gladly accept that
challenge because we confidently believe we have something to share. And the
more we mature, the more firmly it is felt as a duty.
How do you personally define success?
As
genuinely conveying distinct musical thoughts, emotions, and meaning to others,
through the inspired interpretation of performers. Connecting, in other words,
in a shared experience of what I hear with others, including those who
might be living in the future.
By Tobias Fischer
James Aikman Discography:
White
Sunday Light (Non Sequitur) 1999
Tremors From A Far Shore (Centaur)
2005
Venice of the North Concerti (Naxos) 2011
Recommended James Aikman Interviews &
Articles on the Web:
Leslie Bassett interviewed in-depth about orchestration
by James Aikman.
James
Aikman's page at Non Sequitur publishing.
Homepage:
James Aikman
Tags: interviews, classical, contemporary composition, composer, james aikman, usa