
"Judith Shatin has a strong musical personality, an assurance made firmer by this CD; it’s a major release."
- New Music Connoisseur
"There is an earthy, even primeval energy in such pieces as Stringing the Bow and The Passion of St. Cecilia that breaks from the shackles of formality. This music has both a savage roar and, as appropriate, a gentle purr...She seems to be at heart a storyteller."
-Fanfare
“Two new CD’s of music by Judith Shatin…offer convincing proof that she is a leading figure among composers in this country….Her mastery of colorful and imaginative instrumentation and subtle compositional technique are evident.”
-C-ville Review
"The evening's high point came midway through the second half, with the premiere of Judith Shatin's exuberant and captivating Piping the Earth. Vividly orchestrated and bursting with imaginative detail, the piece grabs a listener's attention right from the opening moment…the score is exactly proportioned but still left a listener eager for more.
-San Francisco Chronicle
"The musical firestorm of Piping the Earth, a new one-movement work by Judith Shatin, dazzles with its array of active sound surfaces an shapes."
-San Francisco Examiner
"It hardly prepared one for the musical firestorm of 'Piping the Earth,' a new, one-movement work by Judith Shatin. Apparently conceived as an investigation of the way sound changes in space, the finished work does propose an active and ever-changing soundscape over a constant (if hardly static) harmonic base. It also enthralls. There's no sense of detached solipsistic, intellectual enterprise in this work, which dazzles with its array of active sound surfaces and shapes…The performance was breathtaking.”
-San Francisco Herald
"[Stringing the Bow] is a marvelously inventive piece, informed with a fine sense of musical logic and a precise knowledge of the special qualities of string instruments and what makes them sound good in ensemble. The music showed a composer fully in control of her material at all points and attuned to what makes an audience come back for more."
-The Washington Post
Flutist and unofficial general manager Pat Spencer of the Da Capo Chamber Players introduced us to the music of Judith Shatin in New York in February of 1997. On that occasion we wrote, "... one hears nuances that are rare in today’s interactive electronics and, though Ms. Shatin’s music is highly chromatic, it has its own personality." We were speaking of her composition for solo flute and electronics, Kairos, a work inspired by Greek mythology.
We often regret things said in print but need not take that particular assessment back. Judith Shatin has a strong musical personality, an assurance made firmer by this CD; it’s a major release. We had held an incorrect notion that she was an electronics specialist. Not the case. She may head such a program at the University of Virginia, but her compositional range is hardly narrowed by that label. The opening work affirms her unique attraction for the flute and winds in general—Shatin is an accomplished flutist—for the timbres drawn from them have a visceral effect on the listener. The title, Piping the Earth, inspired by an ancient Chinese text, refers to the wind as both changing and fundamentally unchanging force. The work is highly nuanced; nary a single phrase is repeated verbatim. The whimsical wind, first heard as an ominously approaching drone in the distance, suddenly blusters into high energy and goes through a whole array of musical forms. Snatches of a winsome song can be heard, then a short scherzo, march-like meandering rhythms, all interrupted by climactic moments until the wind goes wild and performs what suggests an awesome dance of death. No, this is not program music, but music that allows the imagination to have a field day.
Also inspired by the wind, but in a much more exalted sense is her three-movement opus for flute and chamber orchestra. The Hebrew word ruah (guttural aitch) is interpreted as breath, wind, air, breeze, blowing, animal life, spirit, ghost, soul, mind, intellect and passion in English. (In many languages breath and spirit have the same meaning.) The composer was moved by the Cabbalistic interpretation, which sees ruah as, roughly speaking, the force that holds body and soul together. The flutist begins a long, soaring solo passage before being confronted by the orchestra, sometimes with harsh chromatic chords, but at other times with empathy, as when other winds float in consonant harmony with it. Despite the challenges, the instrument continues its passage with head held high until, in the final movement, there is a “furious spin through space.” In the last bars the journey reaches home with the spirit surviving and coming to peace and rest.
A much fiercer battle is portrayed in The Passion of St. Cecilia. This Cecilia is not in the same image celebrated by Purcell and Handel. Scholars now consider the designation, patron saint of music, as based on a false notion. She is the early Christian martyr who, according to the Martyrologium Hieronymianum, was condemned by the Roman prefect in the fifth century C.E. because of her conversion of many to Christianity. She was mortally wounded by three blows of the executioner’s sword, heard unmistakably in the final chords of the work.
The music here holds together well. This is yet another challenging work for both performer and listener, who may find little in the music to suggest piety, except in the meditative second movement. Instead, what the composer produces is music depicting a figure caught up in an atmosphere of violence and arrogance surrounding Cecilia's religiosity, conviction and courage. She is a true martyr, both defiant and accepting. The music suggests that but with a lot of brutality.
If we can safely assess that Judith Shatin comes from an erudite knowledge of history, mythology and traditional concepts and that she doesn't shun the human element in her work, she also has a strong interest in properties, in ideas that have tactility. The second work on the disc, Stringing the Bow, is structured in the form of an arc in which rhythmic vibrations are set off, followed by flight (in slow motion), acceleration and finally the climax in which the arrow lands, clearly at its target. On first impression, one feels the composer is not as comfortable with strings as with winds. But soon enough one sees her as interpreting something physical and complex and that strings are well suited to the purpose. (The player's bow, e.g., impersonates the archer's bow.) The many repeated rhythmic chords we hear have roots in a work of great physicality, namely The Rite of Spring. So suggestive of Stravinsky are Shatin's chords, one is tempted to rename the work The Rite of Spring Action. Despite the metrical shifts, complexity of line and purposeful lack of lyricism, the work suggests the dance; perhaps, some curious choreographer will tune in and feel that as well.
We come away with the impression that this composer imposes a thought process into every component of her music and leaves us to make the connections between theme and details. She requires exceptional interpreters and she surely gets them here. Renee Siebert's flute is to sound what a graceful dancer is to visual movement. Gayle Martin Henry's piano ranges from lyrical reflection to controlled clangor. These works seem to have been written with those capabilities in mind. The two orchestras, led by the late Robert Black and the dedicated Joel Suben, are always supportive and richly attuned to Shatin's demands.
Here is a wide-ranging survey of the music of Judith Shatin, an American born and trained composer possessed of a strong and original voice. The Innova release includes chamber music, while the Capstone CD features larger, symphonically scaled works. At the risk of sounding pejorative, which is not my intention, this is the music of an academic musician, by virtue of the precision, sense of architecture, and especially, a freedom of stylistic expression. That last attribute carries some irony, because such freedom would have discredited Shatin in previous times, when strict adherence to specific schools was expected. Yet it is Shatin’s curiosity and sense of adventure that gives this material life.
Shatin seems to be most engaged and stimulated by the big gestures that are allowed by bigger ensembles. There is an earthy, even primeval energy in such pieces as Stringing the Bow and The Passion of St. Cecilia that breaks from the shackles of formality. This music has both a savage roar and, as appropriate, a gentle purr. But even in the chamber music, Shatin sounds a distinctly narrative tone. She seems to be at heart a storyteller, or at least intent on expressing some extra-musical, dramatic concept. Werther, scored for flute, clarinet, violin, cello, and piano, is, at first blush, a thorny, polychromatic work with an imposingly abstract facade, but it is directly inspired by Goethe’s purple 1774 novel The Sorrows of Young Werther, which was a major portal to the world of Romanticism. Some of the storytelling, while compellingly related, is bit long-winded. Does the composer have a touch of the Irish poet in her? But then, the Akhmatova Songs, which are at the emotional center of the chamber-music disc, are a pure distillation of the theatrical impulse. Shatin sets the words of the great Russian poet in the original language with care, and matches their beauty, tragedy, and mystery with special insight and concision.
Shatin’s music is honored by bright, alert playing from all concerned. Soprano Lucy Shelton can be singled out for her luminous rendition of the Akhmatova Songs.
Two new CDs of music by Judith Shatin, Kenan Professor of Music and director of the Virginia Center for Computer Music at UVA, offer convincing proof that she is a leading figure among composers in this country. Dreamtigers is performed by the renowned Da Capo Chamber Players, and takes its title from a duo for flute and guitar included on the disc depicting a dream of tigers recollected by Jorge Luis Borges. Other works here include Werther, a powerful tone poem for five instruments inspired by Goethe’s tragic novel and culminating in the hero’s suicide, and two quieter pieces, the pastoral Gazebo Music for flute and cello and the mysterious Secret Ground for the ensemble. The most emotional works on the disc, though, are a set of three songs on poems by Anna Akhmatova, sung in Russian by the luminous soprano Lucy Shelton, reflecting the poet’s dark experiences under Stalin, and View from Mt. Nebo for piano trio, depicting the journeys, faith, and visions of the promised land experienced by Moses and Martin Luther King, Jr. Shatin’s dissonant, expressionist style balances its violence with lyrical and reflective passages in unexpected ways.
Devoted to orchestral works, Piping the Earth takes its title from the first work on the disc, inspired by the varied moods and power of wind. The second, for string orchestra, is Stringing the Bow, referring to the action of an archer as well as the instruments performing the work. The third and longest work is Ruah (a Hebrew word meaning either breath or spirit), a kind of concerto for flute and chamber orchestra that exploits the sonic possibilities of the flute, brilliantly performed by Renée Siebert. The final work on the disc is The Passion of St. Cecilia, again a kind of concerto, this time for piano and orchestra, a violent, yet at times meditative depiction of both the torture and martyrdom of the saint and her steadfast faith. Its extreme demands on the pianist, Gayle Martin Henry, are met with ease. The orchestras performing are The Moravian Philharmonic, conducted by Joel Suben, and (in Ruah) Prism Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Robert Black. Shatin also has composed much highly praised and effective electronic music, but these discs are devoted entirely to the acoustic variety. Her mastery of colorful and imaginative instrumentation and subtle compositional technique are evident.
© Copyright 2006 Judith Shatin