PROGRAM

Sufjan Stevens Reflections

–Intermission–

Béla Bartók's Dance Suite

Meredith Monk Ellis Island

John Adams' Hallelujah Junction

PROGRAM NOTES

Sufjan Stevens: Reflections

Reflections was originally commissioned by Houston Ballet to accompany choreography by Justin Peck, and premiered March 21, 2019. 

Reflections is characteristic Stevens: dynamic, melodic, memorable, emotionally resonant and playful. It is about “energy, light and duality,” Stevens says. “I’m constantly thinking about bodies moving through space when I’m writing for ballet — that is what has informed this music, first and foremost.” 

There is a long tradition of composing for duo pianos—from John Adams’ Hallelujah Junction to Mozart’s Sonata for Two Pianos in D Major—and Stevens was happy to further explore the form.  “Although I've never taken a lesson,” he says, “the piano was my first true love. Having two of them at my disposal was an exciting opportunity and gave me a real catharsis about the expansiveness of the instrument.”

Self-taught as both a pianist and a composer, Stevens’ first instrument was the oboe, which he started playing in 5th grade. He played in orchestras from high school through college and listened voraciously to recordings of classical music alongside pop radio. But Stevens would often take breaks from the oboe by improvising on the piano, working out music he had heard in passing — pieces by Chopin, Rachmaninov and Bach. “I learned by ear, in a very rudimentary way, inspired by a wide range of music,” he says. “A lot of the work that I compose is anachronistic as it doesn't follow a genealogy of aesthetic. It can be a cornucopia of styles.” That's the case with Reflections, where listeners may detect a hint of Debussy, Stravinsky, Philip Glass and even Bruce Hornsby.

A studio recording of Reflections performed by pianists Timo Andres and Conor Hanick was released by Stevens in May 2023.

Béla Bartók's Dance Suite

Three works were commissioned for the 50th anniversary of the formation of Hungary’s capital Budapest from the three cities Buda, Pest and Óbuda: Kodály’s Psalmus hungaricus, Dohnányi’s Festal Overture and Béla Bartók’s Dance Suite, which became one of his most frequently-played compositions. Although the themes are Bartók’s, they sound like peasant music: Hungarian, Romanian, Slovakian and Arabian, commingling in some of the movements. As Bartók himself pointed out, “The melody of the first theme in the first movement is reminiscent of primitive Arabian folk music, whereas its rhythm sounds East European.” Thus he remained faithful to his guiding idea of confraternization among peoples.

—Universal Edition, Bartók’s Dance Suite

Meredith Monk Ellis Island

Ellis Island (1981) was originally composed for my short film of the same name, evoking the passage of immigrants to the United States at the turn of the 20th century. The music of the two pianos makes one stream or overall texture, like clear water flowing.

—Meredith Monk

John Adams' Hallelujah Junction

Hallelujah Junction was written at the request of Grant Gershon and Gloria Cheng, two musicians with whom I have had a long and fruitful history. When they asked me to compose a "short" piece for a special concert at the Getty Museum in 1998 I simply could not decline.

Hallelujah Junction is a tiny truck stop on Route 49 on the Nevada-California border, not far from where I have a small mountain cabin. One can only speculate on its beginnings in the era of prospectors and Gold Rush speculators (although a recent visit revealed that cappucino is now available there). Here we have a case of a great title looking for a piece. So now the piece finally exists: the 'junction' being the interlocking style of two-piano writing which features short, highly rhythmicized motives bouncing back and forth between the two pianos in tightly phased sequences. This is a technique I first used in the 1982 Grand Pianola Music and later expanded in orchestral pieces.

The "hallelujah" is for another Los Angeles friend: Ernest Fleischmann. Like many composers, conductors, and performers, I have benefitted immeasurably over the years by Ernest's friendship and by his unflagging advocacy. As we all think back over the extraordinary tenure of his service as managing director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, "hallelujah" seems to be the only appropriate word. We all owe him a debt of deep gratitude.

Hallelujah Junction lasts approximately fifteen minutes and is in four parts, linked one to the other. The first section begins with a short, exclamatory three-note figure which I think of as "-lelujah" (without the opening "Hal-"). This energized, bright gesture grows in length and breadth and eventually gives way to a long, multifaceted "groove" section.

A second, more relaxed part is more reflective and is characterized by waves of triplet chord clusters ascending out of the lowest ranges of the keyboard and cresting at their peak like breakers on a beach.

A short transitional passage uses tightly interlocking phase patterns to move the music into a more active ambience and sets up the final part. In this finale, the "hallelujah chorus" kicks in at full tilt. The ghost of Conlon Nancarrow goes head to head with a Nevada cathouse pianola.

—John Adams