If it’s true that Stephen Jaffe (b. 1954) has been teaching at Duke University since 1981 it would mean that he started when he was only 27 years old–most impressive. His is a name that comes up frequently in any discussion of interesting new music these days, and now Bridge has seen fit to cull together some works composed in the last seven to eight years.
Cut Time is designated as an opener, or even an encore, but to be honest, this short two-minute piece doesn’t seem too substantial to me. In fact, I kept thinking that it sounded like a quirky little soundtrack to a Doris Day comedy. Perhaps that is the idea, but the piece remains void of substance compared to any of the other works on this disc. The Cello Concerto is by far the longest, written for and powerfully played by National Symphony Orchestra principal David Hardy. The work gets better as it goes along; I was unconvinced by the meandering of the opening movement, never a good sign; but persistence did pay off by the end. The second movement scherzino, at 1:50, hardly qualifies as a movement at all in the context of things, and instead serves merely as a breather or transition to the slow movement, a series of variations called “Mysterious Flowers”. This is indeed a lovely meditation full of color and light, and most enjoyable. Hardy plays it with suitable lyricism and grace. The final movement gets all worked up only to sort of “end” at the end–for a moment I was not sure it was over, and had to check the timings to make sure. This seems to me inconclusive and sort of frustrating, but not enough to detract from the movements many other felicities, making for a creditable effort if not the last word in recent concertos.
Poetry of the Piedmont is especially meaningful to me as I grew up in the area, actually not far from Duke University, and have retained a love for the customs, culture, and various melting pots of music present in the “Golden Triad” (Greensboro, High Point, and Winston-Salem) and “Research Triangle” (Chapel Hill, Durham, and Raleigh) areas. Jaffe bases this work around the calls of two different birds, including using taped recordings of the bird songs in the work. It is truly a beautiful piece of music, making use of many musical influences found in the region without seeming at all pastiche. Sometimes this sort of thing can go awry quickly and seem rather tawdry in presentation, but not here.
Finally we come to what in my mind is the undisputed masterpiece on this disc, Homage to the Breath. The work employs 10 players: flute (piccolo), oboe (harmonica), clarinet, horn, percussion, piano, violin, viola, cello, bass, and vocalist in the last movement. The theme here is quite literally breath, found as a running pulse in movement one and breathing that sounded from the composer’s mother at the end of her life which quite haunted him. As one who lost a mother to a breathing disorder, this part had particular resonance for me, and the first two movements are quite involved and toweringly presented, each instrument contributing in an independent yet ultimately congregational effort of great complexity and fluency–the writing is truly sophisticated and effective. The last movement, though I knew it was coming, startled me at first when I first listened; the soprano is quite a shock in this for some reason, and I am not at all convinced that Jaffe could not have gotten by without her. Nonetheless, the work is startlingly original and well worth the time; it has all the markings of a repertory standard.
The sound is generally excellent, the tracks by the NCSO the least favorable, probably due to their live status, the others being done in studio. Though I feel that this collection is somewhat inconsistent in quality, the best here certainly proves that Jaffe is a voice to be reckoned with, and could have quite an impact on the American scene before it is all over with.
— Steven Ritter
