A Bit Jazzy at Juilliard
The still relatively new Rose Theater has been a godsend to the New York classical community. Located at Jazz at Lincoln Center in the Time Warner building, it has hosted opera, chamber music, small orchestras, and mixed-media theater events of the unclassifiable variety. On Monday evening, the Juilliard Orchestra, under the baton of James DePreist, gave its first concert in these spiffy new digs.
Although this was not the 110-piece Straussian or Mahlerian orchestra, it was still a full complement of musicians, and there were acoustical issues. The sound was too immediate, as if we were physically in the middle of the score, such as Leonard Bernstein's Philharmonic on the old "Omnibus" television program. But ears adjust quickly, so the less than ideal vantage point mellowed as the evening wore on.
The group began with the "Sinfonia No. 3" of George Walker, who was in the audience. Mr. Walker is a member of a loose-knit school of composers that includes Paul Creston and William Schuman, a movement that crystallized in the 1950s in America. He is also a former piano student of Rudolf Serkin and the first black graduate of the Curtis Institute of Music.
Appropriately for the venue, Mr. Walker's work is a bit jazzy as well as slightly mysterious. It is clever as well, the second movement beginning with what seems to be a tone row — 12 different notes — but one that is not developed in dodecaphonic style. The ensemble played very well; it was heartening to not only hear but also see their enthusiasm. Mr. Walker seemed pleased with the result.
Those of us who grew up in band rehearsal rooms in the 1950s and '60s will remember the witty Concerto for Trumpet of André Jolivet, a student of Edgard Varese in Paris and a close fried of Olivier Messiaen. This piece was not on the program, but a corollary work, written soon thereafter, showcased the talents of a new Juilliard student, Brent Grapes. The Concertino for Trumpet, Piano and Strings was conceived as an audition piece, an opportunity for buglers to strut their stuff while demonstrating such formidable techniques as triple tonguing. Last year, Mr. Grapes was principal trumpet of the Australian Army Band, but now he is at school in America, studying for an advanced degree. Again jazz was a part of the show, the slow middle of this little oddity a muted dance band style with a '40s flavor. Although Mr. Grapes was impressive in the outer movements with his ruffles and flourishes, this section got the better of him, his comfort level with the idiom questionable. Both pianist Liza Stepanova and the string orchestra simply went along for the ride. This technical exercise for valve instrument was an unusual choice for concert fare.
For dedication, enthusiasm, and drive, it was hard to beat the realization of the major work of the evening, the "Symphony No. 3" of Beethoven. Beethoven didn't know from jazz, but it is in this piece that his intense rhythmic drive conquers and redefines classical music henceforward. Although the students were quite accurate and sounded great, Mr. DePreist's approach posed the question as to what is the real purpose of a student concert.
In this case, he made the point that it is primarily an educative experience. Tempos were stately and measured, downbeats were unusually strong, accents exaggerated almost to the breaking point. As a musical experience, meant to rend the listener's heart asunder, this was hardly the ideal performance. But as a deconstruction that will stay with the student practitioner for years, this was powerful music making. No one in that string section will ever wonder how to execute a downbow in the "Eroica" again. James DePreist, who knows a thing or two about being heroic himself, made certain of that.
