NW BachFest review: Herskowitz and Bailey demonstrate exceptional skill in improvisation during weekend concerts
Zuill Bailey’s determination to think outside the box has proved to be an outstanding characteristic of his leadership of the Northwest Bach Festival over the past 10 years. In his choice of participants, selection of music, planning of programs and choice of venues, he has enabled Spokane audiences to explore new ground or, what might be even more valuable, re-explore ground they believed they long-since came to understand.
In challenging old orthodoxy, he has asked us to embrace a new heterodoxy in order to experience more deeply the unlimited joy that music holds.
This past week, Bailey and pianists Awadagin Pratt and Matt Herskowitz used the theme of improvisation to shine a fresh light not only on the music they performed, but on the very act of artistic creation. Pratt introduced the topic April 17 and put it into practice by linking together pieces on his program with brief passages that he played as they came into his mind. The improvisations were of a meditative character, suggesting that the pianist was using them to get in touch with the harmonic and emotional underpinnings of the published music he was about to perform.
Herskowitz’s astonishing ability in improvisation has allowed him to establish a niche in the world of contemporary music occupied by no one but himself. There are certainly many examples of jazz improvisation on classical material; Dave Brubeck’s “Rondo a la Turk” is probably the best known in this country, though Jacques Loussier’s Bach-based jazz improvisations are widely known and admired. Herskowitz’s approach is quite different, however. Jazz traditionally alters the original harmonies, rhythms and tempos of a work in a way that shows an impudent disregard for its tone and intent. Thus, a sentimental ballad becomes a langorous, suggestive proposition or a frenzied, up-tempo dance. There was nothing impudent, however, about the improvisations we heard from Herskowitz; they were brilliant, detailed, inventive, but serious in the same way Bach’s originals were serious. They did not swing.
On Saturday, Herskowitz gave us improvisations on seven different works by J.S. Bach, all but one of which were originally for keyboard. It was impossible not to be dazzled by the richness and detail of his invention as he created new elaborations of Bach’s originals. In one case, this required improvising in four voices simultaneously, which he did without hesitation and without missing a note.
The whistles and cheers from the audience reflected their pleasure at witnessing such astounding talent. There was a cost, however. Though Herskowitz’s playing was fully up to the task of conveying the quicksilver output of his extraordinary mind, the actual sound he produced was persistently percussive and inexpressive. It may be that the intense concentration required to improvise at such a high level inhibited his attention to matters of sonority and expression. In an encore improvisation for which he did not have to follow an actual work by Bach, but was free to improvise in that style, there was an unmistakable transformation in tone, touch and phrasing. One could see the relaxation of his hand position and shoulder tension, and clearly note the increase in flexibility in tempo and sweetness of tone.
At Sunday’s concert, Bailey joined Herskowitz in a program of music by Russian and Soviet composers, this in honor of the 150th anniversary of the birth of Sergei Rachmaninoff, who was not only one of the most influential composers, but also one of the greatest (or the greatest, as some maintain) pianist of the 20th century. Herskowitz began with a work of horrific difficulty by Rachmaninoff’s contemporary, Alexander Scriabin (1872-1915), his Etude Op. 42 No. 5 in C-sharp minor of 1903. The chance to hear so challenging a work performed with accuracy at such a tempo was very exciting, though some of Scriabin’s characteristic lyricism got lost in the torrent of notes. It appeared, afterward, however, in a postlude improvised by Herskowitz that employed many of the composer’s harmonic and melodic ideas in a mode of meditative reflection.
The same practice was applied to two variations taken from Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini (1934), the 16th, which shows the influence of jazz pianist Art Tatum, and the often-excerpted 18th, containing one of the composer’s most famous “big tunes.”
As skillful and inventive as Herskowitz’s improvisations may be, they have the unwelcome effect of displacing the listener’s attention from the thoughts and intentions of the composer and refocusing it on the abilities of the performer. Emphasis, then, is placed on the power of the performer’s imagination, not on that of the listener. This effect came into play in the first piece in which Bailey shared the stage with Herskowitz: Rachmaninoff’s “Vocalise,” in which Bailey played the haunting melody, originally intended for voice, while Herskowitz’s accompaniment blended the admittedly rather plain original with passages of improvisation. This resulted in a kind of aesthetic double-vision that not everyone regarded as an improvement.
In the work that followed, Gregor Piatagorsky’s (1903-1976) set of 16 variations on the same Paganini tune that forms the basis of Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody, Bailey delighted the audience, not only by steamrolling the huge technical challenges that Piatagorsky, one of history’s greatest cello virtuosos, set in his path, but by setting a new standard for interpreting the work. In each variation, the composer characterizes – often satirizes – a famous musical colleague and friend.
Bailey succeeded to a remarkable degree in reproducing the very different sounds and styles of each character. Everyone familiar with the playing of Pablo Casals immediately recognized his unique tone emerging as if by magic from Bailey’s cello, and who but Jascha Heifetz ever managed those tiny slides into a note as deftly as Bailey did in the Heifetz variation? Bailey’s performance became more than a delicious and witty potpourri; it was a dazzling demonstration of the most influential performance styles of the 20th century.
While Piatagorsky’s “Paganini Variations” plainly kept the spotlight trained on the cellist, the pianist was certainly not allowed to sit quietly with his hands folded. The sections fly by at breakneck speed, each requiring dramatic changes in tone and tempo. Herskowitz not only supported his partner, but provided the touches of wit, sarcasm and pathos that imparted color and vitality to each portrait.
Having surmounted these Herculean demands, Bailey and Herskowitz confronted the Olympus of Dmitri Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto No. 1 in E-flat major, Op. 107 (1954). The piece, considered to be among the most difficult ever written, was composed in collaboration with Mstislav Rostropovich, the greatest cellist of his time and among the most significant cultural figures of the 20th century.
Shostakovich uses his Cello Concerto as an artistic frame with which he can stabilize and communicate a maelstrom of emotion swirling around the Soviet regime that held Russia’s cultural life hostage and betrayed all the hopes its artists held for it, not least Shostakovich himself. Bailey’s and Herskowitz’s passionate reading of the Concerto took the audience on a harrowing emotional journey that began with sarcastic contempt and descended into heartfelt grief, before rising through anger and desperation into rage.
It was not pretty, but it was beautiful, by virtue of the discipline, care and skill Shostakovich poured into its creation, and that Bailey and Herskowitz marshaled in bringing it to life before us.
Northwest BachFest, featuring Matt Herskowitz and Zuill Bailey, was reviewed Saturday and Sunday at Barrister Winery. For information , visit nwbachfest.com.