"I was preoccupied with the idea of adding to the great history of serious music something with an American accent.” – Aaron Copland
What does it mean to be American? There are probably as many different understandings as there are people on the planet. To answer this question, many look back to the lofty ideas of personal freedom espoused by the country’s founding fathers. Others focus on the economic and social opportunities afforded people from differing backgrounds and points of origin. Some point to the culture – art, film, music – that developed in the rich stew of ideas and viewpoints made possible by a pluralistic society.
Whatever your particular feelings, I hope we can all agree that this experiment in self-determination has inspired some of the most incredible music the world has ever known. This summer we celebrate 250 years of creative expression.
The son of Russian-Jewish immigrants, Aaron Copland (born November 14, 1900, New York, NY; died December 2, 1990, Sleepy Hollow, NY) grew up above his parents’ grocery store in a shabby neighborhood in Brooklyn. When thinking back on his youth, Copland wrote, “I was born on a street in Brooklyn that can only be described as drab. It had none of the garish color of the ghetto, none of the charm of an old New England thoroughfare, or even the rawness of a pioneer street.” From these humble urban beginnings, Copland would go on to write music that defined the sound of America’s great expanses, incorporating elements of jazz and folk music, coupled with open chords and an optimism that somehow “feel” American.
But it took a French woman to set him on this path. Copland made his first furtive forays into composition at age 11, but by his late teens he was feeling the need to expand his musical horizon, and he started music studies locally in piano, theory and composition before earning a scholarship to the newly formed American Conservatory in Fountainebleau, just outside Paris. There, he reluctantly attended a harmony class with Nadia Boulanger, and it would change his life. He became Boulanger’s first American student, paving the way for many others to follow, including Walter Piston and Virgil Thompson (not Gershwin, though – Boulanger turned him down). She introduced Copland to Stravinsky, Milhaud, and Poulenc, who were frequent guests at Boulanger’s residence. She also encouraged him to use the Jewish, jazz, and street music he knew from his upbringing to create a new American style.
His early output was jazzy and avant-garde, but the Great Depression had a profound influence on him and he wanted to write music that was more accessible to a greater public. This new approach resulted in works like El Salón México, Rodeo, Billy the Kid, and Appalachian Spring (performed on July 26), but the inception of his Old American Songs required another foreign intervention. British composer Benjamin Britten reached out to Copland in 1950 and asked him to arrange some American songs for his festival in Aldeburgh, England. Copland arranged five songs for the festival for voice and piano, and then added another five in 1952, later orchestrating them.
Today, we will hear four selections: the languid and powerful “At the River,” a popular revival hymn which often accompanied river baptisms, followed by the Shaker hymn “Simple Gifts” (also explored in Appalachian Spring), which slyly has the voice and instruments slightly off kilter until the singer reaches the word “right” in the lyric “when we find ourselves in the place just right.” A lover remembers a lost one in a poignant setting of “Long Time Ago,” and the set finishes with a bright and inspirational revivalist song, “Zion’s Walls.”
Composer and saxophonist Steven Banks (born 1993, Winston-Salem, North Carolina) is among a new generation of composers who are redefining what it means to be an American composer. Banks is an evangelist of the saxophone, seeking to “establish the saxophone as a central part of the sound of classical music in the 21st century” and “broaden the public view of the saxophone and its expressive capabilities.” He has been making inroads in his quest, appearing with prominent orchestras, chamber music presenters, and in recitals around the world. For additional information, see his biography in the About Our Artists portion of the book. Banks provided the following note:
Banks provided the following note:
‘to be free’ was written as a reflection on the 250th anniversary of the United States, and as a celebration of the life and work of legendary singer, songwriter, pianist, and activist, Nina Simone. Scored for mezzo-soprano, violin, viola, cello, bass, flute, soprano saxophone, and piano, the piece reflects on the innate human desire for liberation and what it means to be truly free.
Nina Simone has been an inspirational figure to me for many years. I, of course, love her music, but am especially drawn to her story. She was a prodigious pianist as a young child growing up in Tryon, North Carolina in the 1930’s and 1940’s. Her childhood piano teacher, Muriel Massanovich, fostered her love of classical music. At this time, it was almost unheard of for a young Black girl to perform the music of Bach, Schubert, Debussy, and the like. But Nina Simone was the exception. She practiced for hours and hours, and gave many recitals as a child. With the support of her community, she moved to New York City during her high school years to study at The Juilliard School and eventually auditioned at the Curtis Institute of Music. She wanted to become the world’s first Black female concert pianist. She was denied admission to Curtis, and she, as well as many others, believed that her race was the primary reason for her rejection. While she continued taking lessons for several years after this devastating blow, she eventually found herself needing to make money for herself and her family, who she regularly supported financially throughout her life. She began playing in clubs, and was encouraged to sing if she wanted her act to be more lucrative. The rest is history, as they say, but Nina never stopped talking about how she wished that her career had been as a pianist in classical music. When she eventually made her Carnegie Hall debut, she wrote home to her family to share the good news, but also to share her sadness that she wasn’t playing Bach.
As a young Black classical musician myself, I am acutely aware that I stand on the shoulders of Nina Simone and other Black musicians throughout history who loved classical music but were denied the chance to pursue it professionally because of their race. I feel a sense of responsibility to take the baton from them and run with it for the next leg of the journey toward a deeper sense of integration and acceptance of Black people and influences in the field of classical music. As such, I even named my soprano saxophone ‘Nina’ many years ago after Miss Simone.
I have been blessed with opportunities that Nina Simone only dreamed of. As I reflect on this 250th anniversary of the United States, I think of all the Americans alive today who are living the dreams of their ancestors. Previous generations fought, worked, and died for the rights and freedoms we now have. But, as the saying goes, with great freedom comes great responsibility. It is as important now as it has ever been for Americans to uphold and build upon the structures and practices that have sustained our freedom, and to refuse to take them for granted. While our society may seem like it has always existed as it is now, this anniversary is a chance for us to be reminded that basic principles like shared governance, checks and balances, and equal opportunity for all were hard-won and must be purposely protected.
‘to be free’ reflects on the idea of finding freedom through structure. The musical foundation of the piece is an Arvo Pärt-inspired framework, found in the piano part, which plays out over its 15-minute duration. Essentially, this structure starts with a B-flat major chord, departs from it in slightly different ways, and slowly returns to it again and again. Each time we return to the original chord, it is repeated one additional time. Over the course of the piece, there are fewer departures and they travel less far, eventually leading to the home chord being repeated 14 times before a coda appears to close out the work. About halfway through this cycle, the music opens up into a joyous melody, presented in the strings, voice, and eventually the audience, hopefully creating a moment of collective effervescence. The music is securely grounded in the structure, and freedom, joy, and community consequently emerge.
This piece continues to share its teachings with me. Throughout the writing process, I have had several personal realizations that I hope to use to find more peace and happiness in my own life. I believe that we all yearn for the feeling of freedom. We dream of getting away, having less to do, and encountering fewer obstacles. Life can feel like it is weighing us down. Yet, we often also struggle to know what to do with ourselves when the weight is lifted, even for a moment. Perhaps becoming comfortable with paradoxes is the key. Community and autonomy. Responsibility and choice. Sacrifice and self-care. Friction and ease. Or, perhaps structure is the path through which we reach a sense of freedom. Autonomy through community. Choice through responsibility. Self-care through sacrifice. Ease through friction. A life without hardship is not attainable, and ultimately, I suppose, not the goal anyway.
So what does it really mean to be free? I don’t know, but I feel it when I see the sunrise. I feel it when I hear birds greeting the day each morning as I walk in my neighborhood. I feel it when I give without expectation. I feel it when I let my curiosity lead me. It is my hope that this piece will encourage you to reflect on what freedom means to you, and how your freedom intersects with your community, your country, and your world.”
Pianist and composer Michael Stephen Brown (born 1981, New York, NY), brings Pour Angeline for Solo Piano, a heartfelt gem, to the program. As a composer, Brown has produced a number of significant works, most recently The Carnival of Endangered Wonders: A Zoological Fantasy for large ensemble. This past spring, BCM commissioned and premiered his charming and dizzying Near Collision for Piano Four Hands, inspired by the music of George Gershwin. He’s received additional commissions from The Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, Gilmore Festival, and Maryland Symphony, as well as from individual artists including Anne-Marie McDermott, Jerome Lowenthal, Ursula Oppens, Orion Weiss, Adam Golka, and Roman Rabinovich, as well as soprano Susanna Phillips, and cellist Nicholas Canellakis. Michael provided the following note for Pour Angeline:
“The title says it all: for Angeline. A whisper between intimacy and desire, inspired by Chopin’s Mazurka No. 4 in A minor, Op. 17 – one I’ve played for her again and again, a piece that opens and ends with a question mark and lingers between F major and A minor, as if suspended in thought. It feels like the beginning of a private conversation between two people. Out of that sound world grows my own offering of love. It is the encore on my latest album, Twelve Blocks.”
To read more about Michael, please see the About the Artists section.
We end the program with a work by a composer who had a profound influence on American music, and whose own music would be profoundly affected by his American experience. Antonín Dvořák (born September 8, 1841, Nelahozeves, Czechia; died May 1, 1904, Prague, Czechia) had toiled away as a composer for many years before applying to the Austrian State Music Prize in 1874. The prize was set up to help struggling composers find a foothold, and on the selection panel was Johannes Brahms, who saw in Dvořák’s music a kindred spirit. Dvořák would be awarded the prize (and twice more in 1876 and 1877), but more importantly, his connection to Brahms would result in a deep friendship that would open doors for the Czech composer and eventually bring him to America in 1892, where thousands would gather at the harbor to greet the great artist arriving by steamboat for a multi-year visit. During that time, he would hear and be influenced by spirituals and Native American music, which would inform his own writing in such works as the “New World” Symphony and “American” String Quartet and String Quintet. Today, we catch Dvořák a couple of years prior to this momentous trip, when his international fame was growing, and his publisher was seeking him out for new works to offer a demanding public. He obliged with the Op. 87 Piano Quartet in E-flat major, which was a departure from his previous Bohemian-inflected music. More Brahmsian and Germanic, its conservative construction reflects the anti-Slavic sentiment in Germany of the late 1880s. The piano quartet still reveals touches of his native folk-music, resulting in a beautifully crafted work full of melodic invention, demonstrating the fertile imagination that would be captured by the sounds of the New World in just a few short years. –ML