I don't expect to post again until after the holidays, so I'll take this opportunity to wish everyone a joyous season.

I'll be back after the New Year with rich, 101-related goodness. In the meantime, Robert Gable has a post up about John Cage's 4'33" and how people react to it. The next issue of The High Hat will include a new article of mine about why this piece is central to 20th century concert music.

Also, the two recent posts by Kyle Gann and Marcus Maroney concern an issue that is also central to 20th century concert music: time.

Again, Happy Holidays to all!



Forrest Covington has the latest in a series of posts from throughout the musical blogosphere on "atonality" and "nihilism". The current spate of posts began with one by a blogger who calls him- or herself Promethean Antagonist.

Mr. Covington seems to believe that "atonality" (hereafter the more accurate "pantonal") is an ultra-rational "system" that attempts to negate the "natural" tendency of humans to hear "tonally". The argument that tonality is "natural" is a familiar one, and has some basis in science. On the other hand "art" is the root of "artificial", not "natural".

I'm open to correction here, but it sounds like Mr. Covington is equating pantonality with 12-note technique. Arnold Schoenberg developed the 12-note technique because he didn't believe he could create full-scale musical works without the kind of rational system tonal composers had at their disposal. He had created large-scale pantonal works with a text, such as the monodrama Erwartung, but he believed that pantonality was too free to be able to sustain a musical arguement without a text. Since his time, countless works have been created using the tonal system, free pantonality, serialism, chance, and countless combinations of some or all of the above.

I've been struggling with the idea that pantonality and nihilsm are close cousins. It is so foreign to me that I almost put the word "idea" in quotation marks in the previous sentence. Are there nihilists who write, play, and like pantonal music? Undoubtedly, but we can name world-class nihilists who adore(d) tonal music.

Almost everybody knows a pantonal work they enjoy or even, God forbid, love. Listen to any of the pieces in Morton Feldman's viola in my life series and come back with the nihilist line. Or Stravinsky's In memoriam Dylan Thomas. Or the Berio Sequenza V for solo trombone. Or Lee Hyla's Pre-Pulse Suspended. Listen.



Greg Sandow has really gone into important territory with his last three posts: Connections, Power metal and my own composing, and Judging conservative composers.

In the last one Mr. Sandow points out that critics have frequently misjudged their conservative contemporaries. He ends with this:

And what their evident mistakes about Sibelius and Brahms might show is that --while we laugh at a lot at critics who can't understand advanced new music -- critics who can't understand the conservatives of their time can be equally absurd. Who are we misunderstanding now?
In order to answer that last question we have to be able to say what would constitute "conservatism" in composition today. Anybody got any ideas?



Today is Elliott Carter’s 96th birthday.

That he remains a controversial figure is due in part to his very longevity, and also to his continuing activity. Those who believe that Modernism is well and truly dead and buried Carter's continuing creativity (as well as the growing number of performances and recordings) is a reminder that the funeral may well have been premature. His partisans (and I admit up front that I am one) find his career an inspiration and a different kind of challenge.

My first encounter with Carter came in the early seventies, right after high school, when concert music had really started to open up for me. At that time I was intoxicated by the heroic odd numbered Beethoven symphonies, the Stravinsky ballets, and the orchestral music of Webern (especially the Sechs Stucke, op.6), Ligeti (Atmospheres), and Lutoslawski (Livre pour orchestre). I was visiting some with some older (that is, adult) musicians who taught in a summer program I had attended a couple of years earlier. They were arguing about this guy called Elliott Carter, who apparently had written some string quartets.

They put on the brand-new Composers Quartet recording of the Second Quartet. I didn’t care for it—it didn’t have the color of either Lutoslawki or Ligeti nor the outsized expressionist expression of Webern. One of the musicians then told of the premiere of the Third Quartet he had heard in New York. It didn’t make me like what I had heard any more but it made me want to follow it up.

In college I went to the library and listened to Leonard Bernstein’s recording of the Concerto for Orchestra and tried to follow along with the score. Slowly it clicked for me. Here was everything I looked for in new music—color, wildness, apparent rhythmic “chaos”.

Finally, though, it was and is the rigor and poetry of Carter’s expression that has kept him at the center of my musical life. His music speaks to me at the deepest levels, those that are reachable only by the greatest art.

Among the Carter works have meant the most to me over the years are the Quartets 1, 2, and 5, the Cello Sonata, the Concerto for Orchestra, the Elizabeth Bishop cycle A Mirror on Which to Dwell, the Oboe Concerto, the Quintet for piano and strings, and the Symphonia: sum fluxae pretium spei.

I look forward to new pieces from him and to new experiences with the pieces we already have.



Fred Himebaugh lists "four freedoms" for composers, especially composers who are "stuck" . For the sake of completeness, I'll note that A. C. Douglas singles out two of them for endorsement: Freedom from the Masterpiece Syndrome and freedom from the quest for complexity, which are, I believe related, in that they can make the composer so self-conscious that he or she can't even decide how to spell a given note, for fear of something or other. In fact "Freedom from Self-Consciousness" is an umbrella over all of these concerns.

I would add a corollary, or flip side to the freedom from the quest for complexity: Freedom from the Ache for Accessibility. One never knows what an audience will like or dislike at any given time, so tailoring your music to try to make it "likeable" is a fool's errand, and more than a little condescending.

Why "condescending"? If you think you have to change your music (or your art in general) so that the audience will "like" or "get it", then you think the audience can't "get" what you are after in the first place. Write what you hear and what you feel. If your talent and skill are up to your inspiration there will be an audience for it.

Now, as for finding and cultivating that audience . . .



The New York Times' Anne Midgette writes about the recent trend of well-known performers commissioning new works to perform. The trend, embraced by such luminaries as Dawn Upshaw (who has been doing it for years), Anne-Sophie Mutter, and Midori, can only be a good thing for composers and for the concert music world.

However, Ms. Midgette does mention those eternal banes of the composers' life, the revival, or the lack thereof, and perceptions about the audience:

Once the pieces are written and performed, many have short lives. Premieres attract media attention; revivals don't. If an artist doesn't take the time to learn a piece well for its premiere, it may not sound good enough to attract much interest. And because it is often assumed that audiences don't like modern music, presenters shy away from it.

Plus, there is the novelty of a premiere and the artistic prestige attached to having a piece written for you:

. . . there is a risk that a work commissioned by one artist can seem less attractive to others. It depends on the work, and the only way to know is to keep playing it.

Still, this is a positive development for our music. It should be encouraged.



Robert Gable has a fine post on Carl Ruggles' Sun-Treader, which is a great piece.

Mr. Gable has several interesting and provocative nuggets in this post:

. . . in spite of all that occurred in the twenties, the author [Nicolas Tawa, in American Composers and their Public: A Critical View] argues this generation of composers was arrogant, un-democratic, individualistic, self-aggrandizing, out of balance, etc.

I think I know the answer, but I'll ask this question anyway: We love those traits in our dead artists; why do we despise them in living ones?


. . . Richard Taruskin's opinion on Schoenberg, where the focus on the composer, his methods and tools, overwhelmed any sensitivity towards an audience. Taruskin calls this divergence the "poietic fallacy," which places the making of art ahead of how it is perceived.

But isn't that a poietic fallacy itself? I mean, doesn't casting an artist's work in terms of poietic fallacy overlook audience reaction: Mr. Taruskin goes on to list several of Schoenberg's works he likes, which seems to me to cancel the poieticism of Schoenberg, because it places the supposed lack of sensitivity of a potential audience above the positive reaction of a real audience (Mr. Taruskin himself).

At any rate, check out Sun-Treader.


Basics, etc.

Reader response to the post on spelling led me to look for a site with good explanations of basic music theory. I found this one, where the tutorial on intervals provides good information for those who wanted a little background to more easily follow the discussion of spelling.

I've added Fred Himebaugh's Fredösphere to the blogroll. Question, and please, give it to me straight: Does my blogroll make me look fat?

Alex Ross makes a great point in a post on Jay Greenberg:

How about a TV profile of a grown-up composer — say, Steve Reich on the occasion of his seventieth birthday next year, highlighting his mammoth influence on every form of contemporary music?



I spent a good bit of time this past weekend entering an old piece of mine into Finale. This activity always makes me think about some of the decisions I made during the composition of the piece. In this particular work (Radiant Geometries, a fanfare for two trumpets) the issue that kept coming up was the spelling of pitch.

"Spelling" is the seemingly trivial decision about what note to write down to indicate a particular pitch. And the decision is usually so trivial that no thought need be given it. But that's not always the case. For a composer of functionally tonal music, the spelling of the notes of a harmony or a melody is often determined by the function of a note in that chord or melody. For example if a chord is leading towards A natural, the note a semi-tone below A in the chord generally will be spelled "G#", though it could also be spelled "Ab".

The spelling of pitches also affects how they are played in tonal music. Our G# would likely be pushed a little higher by string players and singers, in order to emphasize its leading tone function.

In a pantonal context, the spelling issue comes down largely to performability. My principal composition teacher, William Hibbard, inculcated two spelling principles in me. One, spell in sharps as a general rule, especially if you are writing music for strings. Sharps are more, as it were, natural for string players because the open strings are tuned to notes that are the home pitches in keys with sharps in the key signature. The other general rule is to spell tonally, even if the context isn't tonal.

Intervals are designated with two words. An adjective refers to the particular "width" of the interval, and a noun communicates the distance between the letter names of the notes involved. The interval between notes with the letter names "C" and "D" is going to be a "second" of some kind, while a "C" and another "C" is a unison, a "C" and an "E" a third, and so on. C natural and D natural are two semitones apart and are refered to as a Major second. Make the C a C# and you have a minor second. Raise the D to a D# and you are back to a Major second. If you then lower the C# to C nat, you have an augmented second (C/D#), an interval that is generally avoided in tonal music, mostly for intonation reasons. So, in non-tonal music you would most likely change the "D#" to an "Eb", with the result being a user friendly minor third.

These issues came up in composing Radiant Geometries, and they rear their head again in the data entry, with the addition of transposing for the parts. Trumpets are generally transposing instruments (don't ask) and Bb trumpets (the most common kind; really, don't ask) have parts that are written a Major second above the sounding pitch. This can lead to some spelling issues, the most interesting of which are B# and E#. B and C are only one semitone apart, as are E and F, unlike all the other letter pairs, which are two semitones apart. Therefore, B# and C natural (as well as E# and F natural) are the "same" notes (apart from the leading tone issues mentioned above, which generally don't come into play in a pantonal context).

When an A# or D# appears in the untransposed score, the software prints B# and E# in the parts, and nobody wants to play those notes unless they absolutely have to. C and F are much easier. So then you have to decide whether to renotate the line to avoid those spellings while still following the rule to spell tonally, or ask the trumpeter to play the offending notes in an unusual spelling in a fast piece.

What's a mother to do?



What would happen if a composer were to arrive on the scene who wrote in the style of (say) Mozart, with as much skill and invention? Would s/he be "accepted"?

I thought of this music school lounge/theory bar type of question when I read A. C. Douglas' rave about a young composer named Jay Greenberg, who was featured on CBS' 60 Minutes yesterday evening.

A little Googling turned up a good amount of information on the composer, including this appearance on PRI's From The Top, which includes a Pittsburgh Symphony performance of Mr. Greenberg's Overture to 9/11. I won't say much about the piece, which is well-, if not imaginatively, orchestrated, and competent.

I was not bowled over by the piece (could you tell?), and I don't know how much of that was due to overselling on Mr. Douglas' part, or by the fact I don't share his desire for a Great Tonal Hope to rise up and save us all.

Could it be professional jealousy? Of course it could.

EDITED TO ADD: The question about composers writing in styles of the past came to mind because of Mr. Greenberg's music (and his publicity), not because of Mr. Douglas' post. Of course there can be, and is, very fine music to be written in styles that are essentially tonal.



Like many people, I like to tailor my listening to the occasion. On Thanksgiving, I generally listen only to American music. The one constant is Ives' "Thanksgiving Day", from the Holidays Symphony.

As Elliott Carter is one of my obsessions, I usually listen to what I consider one or more of his most typically "American" pieces, like the Cello Sonata, the First Quartet, or the Concerto for Orchestra.

Another obsession is the string quartet, and I frequently turn to Lee Hyla's Second or Howl (which may be perfect for this year), Samuel Barber's Quartet, Ruth Crawford's marvelous Quartet, or Crumb's Black Angels.

You can't go wrong with one of Copland's ballets, his Emily Dickinson songs, or his Third Symphony. Or Roy Harris' Third, for that matter. Sousa marches. Gershwin songs.

America sings.



The Standing Room has a review of the San Francisco Opera production of Ligeti's Le Grande Macabre.

The Standing Room and
trrill have been added to the blogroll.

Perpetual Variation, like Buffalo Bill, is



I'm folding the other blog into this one. Several posts from there have been added here.


Review: Chanticleer

The following is reprinted from the Tallahassee Democrat (14 November 2004), with permission.

The 2004-2005 season of the Artist Series continued Friday evening with a virtuoso performance by Chanticleer at the Co-Cathedral of St. Thomas More.

Chanticleer, making its first visit to Tallahassee in 10 years, is a 12-voice men's chorus. What makes it different from other men's choruses (which normally consist of tenors and basses) is its complement of "countertenors," who sing in falsetto with full power.

Friday's concert was organized around the theme "Women, Saintly and Otherwise" and included pieces by and about women. The first group of pieces focused on Mary, and one of the highlights of the concert was the performance of the Gregorian chant "Ave Maria." Gregorian chants are unaccompanied one-voice settings of the liturgical texts of the Roman Catholic Church. The sound of 12 voices singing in perfect unison was as voluptuous in its own way as the full harmonies of most of the program.

A selection of Elizabethan and modern madrigals included a performance of Thomas Weelkes' As Vesta Was that was distinguished by balanced counterpoint and rhythmic life. The assured performance of Maurice Ravel's "Nicolette" was subtle and colorful, and Chanticleer handled the French composer's rich chromaticism with ease and style.

A performance of a selection of madrigals by Claudio Monteverdi showed off the group's strengths. Here were beautiful sounds, rendered with a strong sense of ensemble and impeccable intonation.

Robert Pearsall's Lay a Garland was the only 19th-century music on the program, and Chanticleer embraced the harmonic language, which included many melodic dissonances, beautifully emphasized and resolved in this performance.

The high point of the evening was a powerful performance of John Tavener's Song for Athene, an elegy for a family friend. Tavener is a proponent of the New Simplicity, and his music is made of elements of Russian Orthodox liturgical music. The text is a combination of lines from Hamlet and from Orthodox liturgy. The music places simple melodic lines over a drone in the basses. Chanticleer's austere reading was poignant and direct.

Selections from Augusta Read Thomas' Purple Syllables anchored the second half of the concert. These settings of Emily Dickinson poems about birds (the piece was written for Chanticleer, whose name comes from a singing rooster in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales) were subtle, colorful, and at times, playful. Chanticleer navigated the difficult pieces with expression and, as always, a beautiful sound.

The concert ended with a selection of folk songs and popular numbers, which Chanticleer performed with flair and good humor. A Stephen Foster encore sent the Tallahassee audience out into the night happy and entertained.

Chanticleer (along with ensembles like the Kronos Quartet) subscribes to a dominant contemporary performance aesthetic that emphasizes a gleaming, beautiful sound surface and the presence of the performers themselves.

There are times when this sound quality overwhelms the music, replacing the individual expression of the composer with the performers' personality and making much of the music sound the same, regardless of compositional style.

There are other times, such as in Friday's performance of the John Tavener piece, when the prodigious resources of the gifted performers are fully in the service of the music. These moments are transcendent and are a major reason we listen to music in the first place.



The internet has yielded a remarkable number of good resources for musicians. Two that I have found useful are this site devoted to the chorales of JS Bach (linked to by Scott Spiegelberg), and this site devoted to the identification of unordered pitch-class sets. The latter includes a good deal of fine background material on set theory.


Charles Downey of ionarts provides a rundown of critical reaction to the San Francisco Opera's production of Gyorgy Ligeti's Le Grande Macabre. This provocatively essential work always gets impassioned reactions, both pro and con.

Also: I look forward to
Alex Ross' report on the Boston Symphony performance of Elliott Carter's Symphonia.



I've added a couple of blogs to the blogroll: Composers Marcus Maroney and Forrest Covington. They both have something to say.

The blogroll here is the same as the one at my new blog,
Perpetual Variation. That blog is devoted to my non-101 musical projects.


Review: Albert Herring

The following is reprinted from the Tallahassee Democrat (7 November 2004), with permission.

Benjamin Britten's Albert Herring (1947) is an intimate opera. It has a relatively small cast, a very small orchestra of 13 players, and is fairly short. Its tone is almost exclusively lyrical, its conflicts those of manners rather than those of actions. The story of moral repression and the youthful exuberance that overcomes it is told in colorful music of imagination and subtlety.

So I was curious when I saw that the Florida State Opera's production of Herring was being staged in Florida State University's Ruby Diamond Auditorium rather than in the smaller Opperman Music Hall. Not to worry: Stage director Matthew Lata, scenic and costume designer Gerry Leahy and lighting designer Victor En Yu Tan were able to use the greater space of the Diamond stage in a way that opened the visual field without making it seem to have been artificially stretched. Lata accomplished this through the use of more "supernumeraries," the operatic equivalent of extras in a movie, than usual and his decision to block most of the action at the front of the stage.

Albert Herring is a fine vehicle for young voices, and a good number of them can be heard in this production. Ryan Harper was very good as the title character. He was able to communicate both Albert's innocence and his curiosity physically as well as vocally. Harper will sing Albert again in Friday's performance. Oliver Mercer will sing the role today and Nov. 13.

Jeffrey Wienend and Megan Roth winningly portrayed the pivotal roles of the young lovers Sid and Nancy. The town elders were given with proper unctuousness by Luvada Harrison (Lady Billows), Melissa Vitrella (Florence Pike, who "scolded" the orchestra for what she considered their less-than-timely beginning of the second act), Christine Keene (Miss Woodsworth), Christopher Boulter (The Vicar) and Kyle Jones (The Mayor).

Malinda LaBar was a convincingly hovering Mum to Albert, and Victoria Wilson and Arian Ashworth were also convincing as local schoolgirls. Special mention should be given to youngster Colin Wulff, who was an agile and mischievous Harry.

FSU Opera Director Douglas Fisher led the orchestra in a well-paced, exciting performance. Britten's imaginative score, with solo passages for virtually every instrument, is a difficult one, and the student performers carried it off with style.

This Albert Herring is an engaging afternoon or evening in the theater.


That's the subject line of an e-mail from A. C. Douglas, which e-mail is reposted with his permission:

Re, your http://listen101.blogspot.com/2004/11/bingo.html

With all due respect to George, how is his remark more Bingo! than my
prior, "And what exactly do I mean when I say that "a marriage of the two is desirable when handled in such a way as to serve a better understanding of the music under discussion"? I mean that only when the 'hardcore technical' is used to provide clarifying concrete example of an 'impressionistic' point made in general critical writing on music (as opposed to, say, critical writing for use in music theory courses or other specialist venues) is it being used as it ought to be used, and that its use in any other capacity in such critical writing is decidedly out of place, and hugely counterproductive."

I realize George's framing of the matter better suits your "hardcore technical" bias, but both say essentially the same thing, wouldn't you agree.

Me, in response:

Yes, I would say they say more or less the same thing, with a different bias, or perspective, rather.


(You did note, I trust, that the "bias" ("perspective") you mention was due entirely my focusing exclusively on *general* critical writing; i.e., critical writing for "civilians" rather than professionals or music students.)

Yes; that distinction is important. I must admit to still prefering Mr. Hunka's formulation both for its slant, however slight, towards technical analysis and for its elegance.



George Hunka sums it up:

. . . impressions must be informed by the means with which those impressions were elicited; technical analysis is meaningless if it doesn't pay homage to the impression that technique, in the end, creates.



Art critic Dave Hickey writes about creating "communities of desire" to foster the arts we love. That's central to my mission here. I write, listen to, perform, and write about concert music because I desire it--passionately and completely. Concert music has fallen out of the lives of the vast majority of otherwise cultured people--if they belong to a community of desire for music, it is generally of the popular kind, not concert music.

This is a circuitous way of getting to what I really want to talk about today, and that is analysis and criticism. Or more precisely, what place do analysis and/or criticism have in creating a ciommunity of desire around concert music?

Recent weeks have seen music bloggers analyze passages from the
classics and Moderns, discuss the content of those analyses, and criticize those analyses and discussions. And we also have an explication of some analytical tools. Analytical/critical styles have been criticized not so much for what they tell us as for how. In the simplest terms, some want audience-friendly "impressionistic" analysis and others want more hardcore technical material.

There is both room and need for both approaches, as well as any other that may be forthcoming. The community of desire for concert music has at least two sub-communities: A community of interest and a community of practice. (One hopes that every member of the community of practice is interested, of course.) For practitioners a greater or lesser degree of technical knowledge of a piece may be necessary if we are to do with the piece what we need to, be that play it, write about it, use it as a model for our own work, or teach it.

Occasionally someone will write a highly-technical piece on a composition and write so that it will be off-putting to a lay person, for whatever reason. But that is the exception. For most of us, thinking about music in a technical way--and expressing in prose (and charts) what we have learned about it--is an important part of practice.

Talking about music in the more impressionistic way has value, too, especially when it helps listeners find their way into a piece. I hope we can find meaningful ways of combining the two approaches and enriching our community of desire.

EDIT: Here's a good example of the value of analysis from the performer's point of view; in this case,
Helen Radice. (7.11.04)



Tallahassee (FL) Symphony Orchestra Music Director David Hoose announced recently that the 2004-2005 season will be his last with the Orchestra. In a "letter" printed in the program booklet for the first concert, he made some points that I think are important to share. These are posted here with his permission, and given without comment:

The biggest threat to the TSO is the one that is visiting every orchestra: whither goeth classical music? Its marginalization by a population that wants much more instant and tangible gratification should be a worry to us all, for the rapid shift that is speeding through our culture affects not just this area of music, but the fundamental quality of our lives. More and more, an embrace of reflection, subtlety, and complexity is being replaced by an addiction to visceral excitement, quick satisfaction, and simple-mindedness. We should be troubled. Serious music may be one of the first victims, for it undoubtedly demands much of us, but its illness should at the least serve as the parakeet in the mine warning us of danger. Our society is at stake. And, if I am right, so are our

. . .

. . . there are concerns that specifically affect the Tallahassee Symphony Orchestra, ones I hope the leaders will ask in the years to come. Among them are:

How committed is this city to having the highest quality orchestra that it could have? What would be required to develop such?

How does a community that cannot claim wealthy, old businesses that see their own future tied to the cultural health of the community, acquire the means to thrive?

Does the community want a paid-community or a professional orchestra? What are the differences, and what are the benefits of each?

Whom does the orchestra serve? The conductor? The players? The audience? The community at large? In what ways might these interests be incompatible, and how might conflicts be

Readers, how are these issues apparent in your communities? Are there others? Are there art forms thriving in your communities and others that suffer? The comments section is for you. A blog without a comments section is like art without an audience.

Review: Tallahassee Symphony Orchestra

Tallahassee Democrat, October 25, 2004:

Tallahassee Symphony Orchestra Music Director David Hoose announced earlier in the week that he would not return to the Orchestra after the 2004-2005 season. That season began Saturday evening at Florida State University’s Ruby Diamond Auditorium with a program of music by Dmitri Shostakovich and Sergei Rachmaninov.

The program, and the audience’s reaction to it, highlighted the growth of the TSO during Mr. Hoose’s directorship in addition to showing the limitations of a part-time ensemble.

Shostakovich’s First Symphony (1926) is a brash and assured debut. It has all of the earmarks of the composer’s mature style—sardonic wit, melodic ingenuity, rhythmic vitality, and colorful orchestration. The Orchestra responded to Mr. Hoose’s crisp tempos and gestures to give a taut, exciting performance of this early modern masterpiece.

The Orchestra displayed solid ensemble work throughout the Symphony, which is awash in the discontinuity that is a hallmark of Modernist art and thought. Soloists (there are too many solos in the Symphony to name all the players) handled their melodic twists and turns with panache, and the Orchestra boldly attacked Shostakovich’s dissonant harmonies, which is key to making them work for the audience.

The audience responded with a sustained and enthusiastic ovation, which indicates how far Mr. Hoose and the Orchestra have come in their programming, which is adventurous for a community-based orchestra in a city the size of Tallahassee. One selling point the TSO’s search committee will have is an audience open to unusual repertoire, in addition to the players capable of delivering fine performances of that repertoire.

Rachmaninov’s Symphonic Dances marks the end of the composer’s career, and in some ways, of the Romanticism he championed and even, for many, embodied. It is a colorful and expressive work, full of memorable melodies and orchestral color. Saturday night’s performance was fiery and solid. Once again the numerous soloists gave telling accounts of their parts, with principal cellist Kim Jones a standout among standouts.

Mark Rohr’s program note made much of the idea that Rachmaninov eschewed Modernism even as late as 1940, the year of the Dances. While it is true that the composer never wrote music that was anything other than unambiguously tonal, he did make use of the same kinds of discontinuities heard to such good effect in the Shostakovich. This piece was full of sudden textural changes and melodic surprises, so while it was not avant-garde, it certainly was Modern in some respects, and Mr. Hoose’s reading emphasized some of that aspect of the score.

The performance was not quite fully realized—I had the feeling throughout that, with one more rehearsal, the Orchestra could really have let go and pulled out all the stops. The Rachmaninov is a greater technical challenge for an orchestra than is the Shostakovich, and this lack of rehearsal time is a serious and inevitable limit on the artistic growth of an orchestra like the Tallahassee Symphony. This was a fine concert, but the Orchestra is capable of even more.

This concert, then, placed the potential and challenge of the TSO in relief, and it will be fascinating to watch the search for the musician who will take on the task of leading the Orchestra into the future.



Tim Johnson's latest post in his Music Since 1960 series is on Luciano Berio's Sinfonia. Mr. Johnson gets at much of what is important and moving about this great work.

I've always thought that the Sinfonia, the Carter Concerto for Orchestra, and Xenakis' Kraanerg together make an excellent musical portrait of the turmoil of the late 1960s.



William R. Everdell, in his fine book The First Moderns, identifies five central aspects of Modernism. The first four are 1), the idea that truth lies in the statistical regularities of any given phenomena (probability vs. determinism), 2), "multiple perspective", that is, that every idea or fact implies the perspective from which it was observed, 3), that objectivity is no more reliable than radical subjectivity in the observation, description, or expression of reality, and 4), that any system contains enough self-reference or recursiveness to undermine the system itself.

The fifth aspect, one that subsumes all the others, is ontological discontinuity. This discontinuity can be seen as the central mode of thought and expression in the Modernist era (Mr. Everdell doubts that the Modernist era has ended, in fact). It exists in the space between atoms and in the distance between whole numbers. Binary digitality itself ("0" and "1") is an expression of discontinuity because there is an infinite number of numbers between zero and one, and space between each of them.

The art of the 20th century, including the music, is no exception. All of the pieces on the 101 list embody one or another of these aspects of 20th centruy thought, as well as the
traits of the postmodern listed by Jonathan Kramer. This overlap of Modern and postmodern thought leads Mr. Everdell to conclude that the postmodern is reall a continuation of the Modern, with different emphases.

As we explore the compositions on the list, and I attempt to explain why they are there, we'll come back to these aspects of the Modern and see (hear) how they inform 20th century art, thought, and life.


This is the last calendar. I've found that no matter how many performances I pick up, I miss at least that many. These pieces really are essential! At any rate, below is a list of a small percentage of the performances of 101 pieces occuring between 22 October and 4 November.

October 22-November 4

Puccini: Madama Butterfly. Mobile (AL) Opera. Mobile Civic Center Theater.

Ravel: Bolero, and Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue. Manchester Concert Orchestra, Paul McGrath. Bridgewater Hall.

Ravel: Bolero and Piano Concerto in G. Huntsville Symphony, Carlos Miguel Prieto. VBC Concert Hall.

Prokofief: Violin Concerto 2. Battle Creek Symphony/Chee-Yun, vln/Anne Harrigan. Kellogg Auditorium.

Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring. London Symphony Orchestra/Pierre Boulez. Alte Oper, Frankfurt.

Webern: Sechs Bagatellen. Hagen Quartett. Konzerthaus, Mozartsaal, Vienna.

Copland: Appalachian Spring. Phoenix Symphony, Michael Christie. Orpheum Theater. Also 10/30.

Copland: Billy the Kid. Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra/Peter Bay. Eastman Theatre, Rochester.

Rachmaninoff: Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. Mikhail Pletnev, piano/Bochumer Symphoniker/Dmitri Kitajenko. Alfried Krupp Saal, Essen.

Menotti: Medium. Atlanta Capitol City Opera. Earthlink Live Music Complex.

Orff: Carmina Burana. Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Andrew Greenwood. Royal Albert Hall.

Strauss: Four Last Songs. Mardi Byers, soprano/Orchester Theater Lübeck/Marc Tardue. Theater, Lübeck, Germany. Also 11/1.

Adams: Violin Concerto. Ernst Kovacic, violin/Riga Chamber Players/Normunds Sne. Latvian National Opera House, Riga, Latvia.

Copland: Appalachian Spring, Suite. Detroit Symphony/Jeffrey Kahane. Max M. Fisher Music Center, Detroit.



Alex Ross gets down to it in his review of the new, Julie Taymor directed Metropolitan Opera production of Mozart's Magic Flute. Great art is always relevant in this blog, but Mr. Ross' close brings up an issue central to my purpose here:

When I got home, I wanted to write, Gene Shalit style, “This Flute’s a hoot! Run, don’t walk!” But there was no point in telling anyone to go anywhere; only a few three-hundred-dollar tickets remained, and these were quickly sold. (There will be five more performances in April; tickets go on sale November 21st.) Whenever the Met stumbles onto something truly wonderful, such as this “Magic Flute,” or “Salome” last season, those in the know snatch up all the tickets before those in the dark can get a taste of what opera can achieve. Such is the enigma of classical music; the better it is, the more inaccessible, until, in its most rarefied form, it hardly exists. Perhaps Mozart took joy in the triumph of “The Magic Flute” because it showed him a way out of that gleaming prison: he could see a real public at last. Then he wrote his Requiem and died.

Concert music cannot thrive on such economies of scarcity as Mr. Ross laments. We (people involved in the creation, production, and dissemination of concert music) must find a way to make our work available in abundance if we are to take a central place in our society.


101 Calendar; October 15-28

Here it is. Playing around with format.

Sibelius: Violin Concerto. Anchorage Symphony, Randall Craig Fleischer. Alaska Center for the Performing Arts.

Britten: War Requiem Wiener Philharmoniker Dom St. Blasii, Braunschweig, Germany

Stravinsky: Symphony of Psalms. Jiri Kylian, choreographer / Lyon Opera Ballet. Joan W. & Irving B. Harris Theater, Chicago.

Copland: Appalachian Spring, Suite; Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue. San Diego Chamber Orchestra. Also 10/18 and 10/19.

Stravinsky: Symphony of Psalms. Jiri Kylian, choreographer / Lyon Opera Ballet. Joan W. & Irving B. Harris Theater, Chicago.

Korngold: Violin Concerto. Ann Arbor Symphony, Pip Clarke, vln., Arie Lipsky. Michigan Theater.

Rachmaninoff: Concerto 2. Bakersfield.

Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra. Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks / Mariss Jansons. Philharmonie, Berlin.

Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra. Strauss: Four Last Songs. Barbara Hendricks, soprano UBS Verbier Festival Orchester / Neeme Järvi. Alte Oper, Frankfurt.

Copland: Appalachian Spring, Suite. Magdeburgische Philharmonie / GMD Gerd Schaller. Opernhaus, Magdeburg, Germany

Puccini: Madama Butterfly. Mobile (AL) Opera. Mobile Civic Center Theater. Oct 21 and 23, 2004.

Janácek: The Makropulos Case. New Production. Conductor: Jonas Alber. Solist: Anna-Katharina Behnke - Emilia Marty; Norbert Schmittberg - Albert Gregor; Kenneth Bannon - Vitek, Sollizitator; Jennifer Crohns - Christa; Jan Zinkler - Jaroslav Prus; Siegfried Pokern - Janek; Henryk Böhm - Advokat Kolenaty. Staatstheater Braunschweig, Braunschweig, Germany.

Ravel: Bolero, and Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue. Manchester Concert Orchestra, Paul McGrath. Bridgewater Hall.

Ravel: Bolero and Piano Concerto in G. Huntsville Symphony, Carlos Miguel Prieto. VBC Concert Hall.

Prokofief: Violin Concerto 2. Battle Creek Symphony. Chee-Yun, vln, Anne Harrigan, Kellogg Auditorium.

Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring. London Symphony Orchestra/Pierre Boulez. Alte Oper, Frankfurt.

Copland: Appalachian Spring. Phoenix Symphony, Michael Christie. Orpheum Theater. And 10/30.

Copland; Billy the Kid, Suite. Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra/Peter Bay. Eastman Theatre, Rochester.



A number of bloggers and other writers (I mentioned Kyle Gann yesterday) have been writing about writing about music in various venues and for various purposes:

Greg Sandow has been blogging about press releases. Today he links to a fine article by David Stabler on that very subject. I found Mr. Stabler's response to a press release saying that a certain 18th century composer needed "no introduction" to be particularly cogent.

Alan Riding's
piece on the critic's audience ends thusly:

So are critics necessary?Many are genuine experts in their field, whether it be art, music or literature, and they offer erudition as well as opinions. But some, notably in the performing arts, clearly savor their power, a power that comes from burying, not from praising. To be feared is to be important, which makes it all the more tempting to be negative. And there lies the problem: most people who buy a ticket for a play or a movie or an opera or a ballet want, above all, to enjoy themselves.



Here's my first review of the season, a performance at Florida State of Krzysztof Penderecki's 1998 Credo, with the composer conducting. I wasn't quite brazen enough to mention this blog in my review, but I did mention his 101 piece, the Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima.

Fanboy note: I took a copy of the only Penderecki score I own with me, in case the opportunity for an autograph arose. When I presented it to him, he smiled as if seeing a wayward child, and said "Ahh, Strophes".

Kyle Gann continues to blog righteously on
program notes and composer biographical statements. The biographical note on Penderecki was quite long (about four pages of the program). Fortunately, the awards were all listed in place so one could skip over those and read the important stuff about his life and work. The program note for the Credo (not written by the composer) was short--four brief paragraphs--and gave some helpful suggestions for hearing the piece for the first time.


101 Calendar; October 8-21.

Not comprehensive, but I'm working on it.

October 8-21:

Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra. Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks / Mariss Jansons Herkulessaal der Residenz, München, Germany

Rachmaninoff: Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. Antonio Pompa-Baldi, piano/Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra/Christopher Seaman. Eastman Theatre, Rochester.

Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra. Orchestre de la Suisse Romande / Pinchas Steinberg Alte Oper, Frankfurt.

Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring. Ballet Title: Sacre. Angelin Preljocaj, choreographer / Staatsballett Berlin, Staatskapelle / Daniel Barenboim Staatsoper, Berlin, Germany

Janácek: The Makropulos Case. Solist: Ensemble der Helikon-Oper Moskau. Helikon-Oper, Moscow.

Berg: Violin Concerto. Berliner Philharmonisches Orchester/Simon Rattle. Philharmonie Berlin, Berlin.

Sibelius: Violin Concerto. Liverpool Philharmonic, Paavo Berglund. Philharmonic Hall.

Britten: War Requiem. Wiener Philharmoniker Dom St. Blasii, Braunschweig, Germany.

Sibelius: Violin Concerto. Anchorage Symphony, Randall Craig Fleischer. Alaska Center for the Performing Arts.

Britten: War Requiem. Wiener Philharmoniker Dom St. Blasii, Braunschweig, Germany

Stravinsky: Symphony of Psalms. Jiri Kylian, choreographer / Lyon Opera Ballet. Joan W. & Irving B. Harris Theater, Chicago.

Copland: Appalachian Spring, Suite; Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue. San Diego Chamber Orchestra. Also 10/18 and 10/19.

Stravinsky: Symphony of Psalms. Jiri Kylian, choreographer / Lyon Opera Ballet. Joan W. & Irving B. Harris Theater, Chicago.

Korngold: Violin Concerto. Ann Arbor Symphony, Pip Clarke, vln., Arie Lipsky. Michigan Theater.

Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra. Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks / Mariss Jansons. Philharmonie, Berlin.

Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra. Strauss: Four Last Songs. Barbara Hendricks, soprano UBS Verbier Festival Orchester / Neeme Järvi. Alte Oper, Frankfurt.

Copland: Appalachian Spring, Suite. Magdeburgische Philharmonie / GMD Gerd Schaller. Opernhaus, Magdeburg, Germany

Janácek: The Makropulos Case. New Production. Conductor: Jonas Alber. Solist: Anna-Katharina Behnke - Emilia Marty; Norbert Schmittberg - Albert Gregor; Kenneth Bannon - Vitek, Sollizitator; Jennifer Crohns - Christa; Jan Zinkler - Jaroslav Prus; Siegfried Pokern - Janek; Henryk Böhm - Advokat Kolenaty. Staatstheater Braunschweig, Braunschweig, Germany.

Puccini: Madama Butterfly. Mobile (AL) Opera. Mobile Civic Center Theater. Also 10/23.


In the comments, composer Marcus Maroney notes that the list is "orchestra-heavy". Here are some stats on the list:

Tone Poems, Ballets, etc: 20
Symphonies: 12
Concertos: 13
Other orchestral works with soloists: 6
Chorus and orchestra: 5
Operas: 18
Choral works: 1
Solo Piano: 6
Electronic/Electronic w/ instruments: 3
Violin Sonatas: 1
String Quatets: 8
Mixed chamber pieces: 3
Percussion Ensemble: 1
Other: 4


Odds and Ends

Stuff from all over on 101 composers:

There's going to be a conference on
Nadia Boulanger in Boulder. She taught a good number of the American composers on the list.

Pierre Boulez (Repons) talks.

The invaluable
Robert Gable links to a not-so-valuable "bio" of John Cage (Sonatas and Interludes, 4'33"). This is really just an excuse to highlight this great blog.


More on Carter in Atlanta

Pierre Ruhe reviews the Atlanta Symphony performance of Carter's "Allegro scorevole" that I posted about last week. Mr. Ruhe also reviews a performance of Paul Moravec's Tempest Fantasy, which won for its composer the 2004 Pulitzer Prize. The critic finds both pieces to be "minor works" that are visible in part because of the lack of alternatives. I would not disagree with him about the "Allegro scorevole" out of the context, but as the finale of the Symphonia: Sum Fluxae Pretium Spei, it is, well, essential.

Mr. Ruhe refers to what he heard as Moravec's "blandness" and called his music "generic", and a reaction to Carter's "dissonant, ferociously complex" idiom. He likened both ways of composing as isolated and self-sufficient, analogous to musical "edge cities", those blights of suburbia dominated by strip malls and a lack of a center. He indicates that he would like to see a new musica that addresses the mainstream--"one had to wonder why it seems so hard to address the middle, to speak with a voice that is at once elevated and common".

I think that is an important issue, though it's very hard to know what such music would sound like, given the fragmentation of contemporary musical life.

After I posted an early version my 101 list, composer and writer
Stirling Newberry suggested the metaphor of music as a city. I've intended to expand on that, and Mr. Ruhe's review adds some texture to the idea. I'll be working on that this week.


Carter in Atlanta

It had been longer than I care to remember since I had heard a top tier orchestra when I went to a performance of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra in their home hall last weekend. The draw for me was a performance of Elliott Carter's "Allegro scorevole", the final movement of his Symphonia: Sum Flexae Spetium Spei. The Symphonia, the newest piece on the 101 list, is a monumental triptych that sums up, in the words of David Schiff, the "joys of modernism" for an age that had either never experienced them or had inadequately appreciated them.

The "Allegro scorevole" is, as the title indicates "fast and flowing". It is an excellent example of the composer's simultaneous use of contrasting musical characters to make his arguement. Here, a yearning lyrical idea is presented alongside the scurrying music implied by the title. ASO Music Director Robert Spano introduced the piece with a short talk, illustrated by very well-chosen excerpts played by the orchestra. Mr. Spano discussed the piece in terms of "wind", which is one of Mr. Carter's favorite metaphors regarding his music. He drew a chuckle from the Atlanta audience when he noted that they should be familiar with wind after the city's recent weather.

The performance itself was very good. All sections of the orchestra acquitted themselves well in the difficult, shimmering score--Mr. Spano had said that the piece had become very important to the players. After a powerful climax in the orchestra's lowest register, there is a final, upward flowing "gust" that ends with a soft piccolo solo in sustained notes in the intrument's upper register. Carter's music often invokes me of the rhythms of the sea, and as the last piccolo note faded, I was reminded of the closing lines from Wallace Stevens'
"The Idea of Order at Key West":

Oh! Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon,
The maker's rage to order words of the sea,
Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred,
And of ourselves and of our origins,
In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds.


listen. live!

It is my intention to post a list of performances of pieces on the 101 list on Thursdays, covering the two-week period beginning the next day. I'm not sure of the best format, so I may be trying out different things. The list will never be comprehensive, I can assure you of that, though the longer I am at it, the better it will get. Here's what I have for 1 October through 14 October:

Shostakovitch: Quartet No 8. Endellion String Quartet. University of Plymouth, Sherwell Centre, North Hill. Oct 2, 2004.

Sibelius: Violin Concerto. Liverpool Philharmonic, Paavo Berglund. Philharmonic Hall. Oct 14, 2004.


Alex Ross posts about his experiences with the music and (indirectly) the personality of Richard Strauss (101: Ariadne auf Naxos and Four Last Songs). He finds Strauss' music central (essential) to the 20th century.

He is also interested in hearing from anyone who may have met Strauss in the immediate postwar period. All the information is in the post.


Traits of the Postmodern

What was modernism? What was postmodernism? Is “was” the correct term for either, neither, or both? A survey of twentieth-century music inevitably must deal with these questions, particularly when the music of the final third-or-so of that century is discussed. I don’t pretend to know the answers, but I think they are questions worth pursuing.

The late Jonathan D. Kramer’s* list of “traits” of postmodern music provides one starting place. For him, postmodern music
  1. is not simply a repudiation of modernism or its continuation, but has aspects of both a break and an extension;
  2. is, on some level and in some way, ironic;
  3. does not respect boundaries between sonorities and procedures of the past and of the present;
  4. challenges barriers between “high” and “low” styles;
  5. shows disdain for the often unquestioned value of structural unity;
  6. questions the mutual exclusivity of elitist and populist values;
  7. avoids totalizing forms (e.g., does not want entire pieces to be tonal or serial or cast in a prescribed formal mold);
  8. considers music not as autonomous but as relevant to cultural, social, and political contexts;
  9. includes quotations of or references to music of many traditions and cultures;
  10. considers technology not only as a way to preserve and transmit music but also as deeply implicated in the production and essence of music;
  11. embraces contradiction;
  12. distrusts binary oppositions;
  13. includes fragmentations and discontinuities;
  14. encompasses pluralism and eclecticism;
  15. presents multiple meanings and multiple temporalities;
  16. locates meaning and even structure in listeners, more than in scores, performances, or composers.

Mr. Kramer offers the following caveat:

Not many pieces exhibit all of these traits, and thus it is futile to label a work as exclusively postmodern. Also, I would find it difficult to locate a work that exhibits none of these traits. I caution the reader, therefore, against using these traits as a checklist to help identify a given composition as postmodern or not: postmodern music is not a neat category with rigid boundaries.

These traits will certainly come up time and again in our exploration of the 101.


* Kramer, Jonathan D. The Nature and Origins of Musical Postmodernism. In Lochhead, Judy & Auner, Joseph (Eds.) Postmodern Music/Postmodern Thought (pp. 13-26). New York: Routledge.


Two essays published in The High Hat comprise an introduction to the 101 project. The first lays out the motivation behind the project and includes an earlier version of the list. The second includes the beginnings of a theory of music criticism.

Please peruse the rest of The High Hat while you are there. You will find very good writing about a wide range of cultural issues.




Much has been written about the decline of "classical" music. There are as many symptoms, guilty parties, and solutions to this decline as there are people who proclaim it and comment on it. I can't claim to know the full extent of the decline or the nature of the solutions, but I do know that "classical" music does not occupy the "intellectual space" amongst educated people that it used to. Or the space that it should occupy.

My response to this situation is to try to open up the intellectual space through the music I know the best and love the most--the concert music of the 20th century. Over the course of the last year or so of the century I compiled a list of pieces that I believed would, taken as a whole, comprise what is essential about the century's music. I'll explain more about the project and the thinking behind the list in later posts, but for now I want to list the pieces and invite you to listen.

Adams, John: Violin Concerto
Barber, Samuel: Knoxville: Summer of 1915
Barber, Samuel: Piano Sonata
Bartok, Bela: Concerto for Orchestra
Bartok, Bela: String Quartet 4
Berg, Alban: Violin Concerto
Berg, Alban: Wozzeck
Berio, Luciano: Sinfonia
Bernstein, Leonard: Symphonic Dances from West Side Story
Boulez, Pierre: Repons
Bridge, Frank: Piano Trio 2
Britten, Benjamin: Peter Grimes
Britten, Benjamin: War Requiem
Busoni, Ferrucio: Piano Concerto
Cage, John: 4'33"
Cage, John: Sonatas and Interludes
Carter, Elliott: String Quartet 1
Carter, Elliott: Symphonia: Sum Fluxae Pretium Spei
Copland, Aaron: Billy the Kid
Copland, Aaron: Appalachian Spring
Corigliano, John: Violin Sonata
Crawford, Ruth: Quartet
Crumb, George: Black Angels
Debussy, Claude: La Mer
Debussy, Claude: Sonata for flute, viola, and harp
Durufle, Maurice: Requiem
Elgar, Edward: Cello Concerto
de Falla, Manuel: Nights in the Gardens of Spain
Feldman, Morton: Rothko Chapel
Gershwin, George: Porgy and Bess
Gershwin, George: Rhapsody in Blue
Glass, Philip: Einstein on the Beach
Granados, Ernesto: Goyescas
Gubaidulina, Sofia: Offertorium
Harris, Roy: Symphony 3
Henze, Hans Werner: The Bassarids
Hindemith, Paul: Mathis der Maler
Hindemith, Paul: Symphonic Metamophoses on a Theme by Weber
Holst, Gustav: The Planets
Honneger, Arthur: Pacific 231
Ives, Charles: The Unanswered Question
Janacek, Leos: The Makropulos Case
Janacek, Leos: Quartet 2
Korngold, Erich von: Violin Concerto
Ligeti, Gyorgy: Etudes
Ligeti, Gyorgy: Le Grand Macabre
Lutoslawski, Witold: Symphony 3
Mahler, Gustav: Das Lied von Der Erde
Mahler, Gustav: Symphony 6
Martin, Frank: Concerto for Seven Wind Instruments
Martinu, Bohuslav: Symphony 2
Maw, Nicholas: Odyssey
Menotti, Gian Carlo: The Medium
Messiaen, Olivier: Quatour pour la fin du temps
Messiaen, Olivier: Turangalilia-Symphonie
Milhaud, Darius: La Creation du Monde
Nielsen, Carl: Symphony 4
Orff, Carl: Carmina Burana
Part, Arvo: Tabula Rasa
Penderecki, Krzysztof: Threnody
Poulenc, Francois: Dialogues du Carmelites
Prokofiev, Sergei: Sonata 7
Prokofiev, Sergei: Violin Concerto 2
Puccini, Giacomo: Madama Butterfly
Puccini, Giacomo: Turandot
Rachmaninoff, Sergei: Piano Concerto 2
Rachmaninoff, Sergei: Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini
Ravel, Maurice: Bolero
Ravel, Maurice: Piano Concerto in G
Reich, Steve: Come Out
Respighi, Ottorino: Pines of Rome
Riley, Terry: In C
Rochberg, George: Quartet 3
Rodrigo, Joaquin: Concierto de Aranjuez
Satie, Erik: Parade
Schnittke, Alfred: Concerto Grosso 1
Schoenberg, Arnold: Pierrot Lunaire
Schoenberg, Arnold: Five Pieces, Op. 23
Scriabin, Alexander: Poeme d'Ecstases
Scriabin, Alexander: Sonata 9
Shostakovich, Dmitri: String Quartet 8
Shostakovich, Dmitri: Symphony 5
Sibelius, Jean: Symphony 4
Sibelius, Jean: Violin Concerto
Stockhausen, Karlheinz: Gesang der Junglinde
Strauss, Richard: Ariadne auf Naxos
Strauss, Richard: Four Last Songs
Stravinsky, Igor: Le Sacre du Printemps
Stravinsky, Igor: Symphony of Psalms
Szymanowski, Karol: King Roger
Tavener, John: Thunder Entered Her
Thomson, Virgil: Four Saints in Three Acts
Tippett, Michael: King Priam
Varese, Edgard: Ionisation
Vaughan Williams, Ralph: Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis
Vaughan Williams, Ralph: London Symphony
Walton, William: Viola Concerto
Webern, Anton: Six Bagatelles, op. 9
Weill, Kurt: Seven Deadly Sins
Weir, Judith: A Night at the Chinese Opera
Xenakis, Iannis: Pithoprakta