"A Parade of the Maverick Modernists, Joined by the Dead"
by Alex Ross
The New York Times, June 19, 1996
Michael Tilson Thomas long dwelled in the shadow of Leonard
Bernstein. Perhaps he imitated his mentor too much, right down to the
debonair baritone. Now, in San Francisco, as the mastermind of a
festival called Soundscape USA, he is creating something entirely in
his image. Nothing quite like it has ever been seen in a concert hall:
a raucous survey of the experimental tradition in American music, a
sellout audience swamped by fans of the Grateful Dead.
Finishing
his first year as music director, Mr. Tilson Thomas has put a bold
imprint on the San Francisco Symphony. Already excellent under Herbert
Blomstedt, the orchestra has added tonal heft and stylistic
versatility. The conductor also has interesting taste. American music,
for him, means neither formulaic nostalgia nor pre-approved modernism.
He leans toward the unsystematic avant-garde, what he calls the
"maverick tradition." His flaw is a tendency toward meandering, uneven
programs.
This American festival, which runs through June 29,
began with an orchestral program on Friday and Saturday in Davies Hall.
Ives's "Holidays" Symphony set the tone, with a mixture of wistful
impressionism and noisy collage. In Saturday's performance, the
conductor showed his fine control of thick Ivesian textures.
"Decoration Day" glowed with broad color and telling detail. But a
certain holiday zest was missing from the "The Fourth of July."
Another
monument to American anarchy was John Cage's "Renga," a
semi-improvisatory piece for 78 players, performed simultaneously with
the same composer's "Apartment House 1776." Four surviving members of
the Grateful Dead joined the orchestra, but went unheard in the general
melee. The performance by the San Francisco Symphony Youth Orchestra
accumulated cold, clashing sonorities.
John Adams, a resident
of Berkeley across the bay, supplied an incisive, somewhat brutal new
overture, "Lollapalooza." The San Francisco Symphony Chorus sang hymns
of William Billings and other pre-Revolutionary Americans; these
sometimes matched the "maverick" thesis, sometimes sounded ordinary.
Over all, the program lacked focus and balance.
Much better was
the Sunday afternoon marathon, which brought back the Grateful Dead
members. Part of the fascination of the weekend was the sight of a
concert hall overrun by ebullient young Deadheads. Mr. Tilson Thomas's
audience-gathering ploy was neither desperate nor gratuitous: the
band's noisier improvisations carry avant-garde cachet, and the bassist
Phil Lesh, a former student of Luciano Berio, has supported recordings
of offbeat 20th-century classical repertory.
Deadheads
patiently waited three hours for their idols. (The band had not played
together since the death of Jerry Garcia.) What gave joy to
20th-century classical fans in the audience was the crowd's
increasingly enthusiastic response to some cannily chosen pieces: Henry
Cowell's "cluster" piano works; Varese's incomparably steely
"Ionisation" for percussion; Steve Reich's "Clapping Music," and Lou
Harrison's seductively rambunctious Concerto for Organ and Percussion.
Avuncular
and wry, Mr. Harrison was master of ceremonies of the Sunday marathon,
reminiscing about composer friends like Cowell and Harry Partch. Such
close, knowing contact with California composers looks to be Mr. Tilson
Thomas's most significant achievement.
The afternoon ended with
" 'Space' for Henry Cowell," created jointly by members of the Grateful
Dead and Mr. Tilson Thomas. The free-form dissonant improvisation was
underpinned by angular melodies drawn from Cowell. Mr. Tilson Thomas
impressively kept pace, wailing on the piano with a technique indebted
to Conlon Nancarrow and Cecil Taylor. "Incredible," "intense" and
"really cool" were heard on the way out.
Mr. Tilson Thomas
managed a difficult balancing act, engaging a new audience without
abandoning his own musical principles. With the modernistically
disciplined Esa-Pekka Salonen in Los Angeles to the south, the
gravitational center of American orchestral life has shifted westward.
