One, two, three ... The next in this series is four, correct? Or is it eight? Or maybe 10? This is the holistic structural effect of Dan Becker's composition Time Rising. A pattern is established, then shattered, and in so doing captivates the audience. Since the new commission was premiered in an Ives Quartet concert that also featured a Beethoven quartet and a Dohnányi piano quintet, listeners might reasonably have expected to hear a series of movements, each one several minutes in length: an intricate first movement, then a slow movement, perhaps a scherzo, and a finale.
Becker plays on this assumption, but then throws in a twist. The initial three movements of his first string quartet are abnormally short — mere sketches, brief ideas. As soon as a steady sound is achieved, the movement is over. After this happens two or three times, our gestalt-loving brains decide, “OK, it’s a collection of vignettes: a string of miniatures, like the Bach ‘Inventions’ or the Chopin Preludes, or Dvořák’s Cypresses or Webern’s pieces.”
This can be puzzling, especially when the players’ pauses to turn pages, to adjust the end pins and shoulder rests of their instruments, and to clear their throats in between the curt movements are almost as long as the movements themselves. But then, the fourth movement throws the listener for a loop. Expecting another brief snippet like the first three, the listener holds his breath, waiting for the end. Yet the movement goes on and on, further than it “should.” That’s when the realization comes that something is different here; something has happened. That transformation — the breaking of a pattern — is always an effective move, and Becker achieves it in a captivating, innovative way.
Aside from its long-term structure, Time Rising is full of fascinating rhythms and colors. It opens with an amalgamation of open strings and suspensions that overlap like fuzzy light through a prism. Subsequent movements feature Becker’s signature, minimalist-influenced, phased-rhythm arguments that are both groovy and unsettling at the same time. The Ives Quartet made it seem easy, even though the slightly off-kilter patterns are, in fact, extremely difficult to coordinate.
Racing to Keep Up
By contrast, Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 3, Op. 18, was also well-coordinated but not as convincing. The ensemble seemed exhausted after a long season of performing and teaching.Christopher Basso joined the quartet for Dohnányi’s Piano Quintet, one of those late-Romantic pieces in which the strings are given a steady stream of gorgeous melodies while the poor pianist has to keep up with twice as many notes as all four string players combined.
Basso maintained a fervent pace, arpeggiating torrents of chords in a blur while providing strong, clear grounding in the left hand. The upper register could have been clearer; perhaps this was partially due to the piano’s being relegated to the apse of the acoustically wet chapel. Nevertheless, the performance was utterly beautiful and gushing with passion.
Midtown Palo Alto is fortunate to have this excellent ensemble giving regular concerts in the middle of a suburban residential neighborhood. Members of the community who recognize each other from coffee shops, schools, and congregations meet at these concerts, conveying a small-towny, everyone-knows-everyone feeling. I look forward to the Ives Quartet’s next season.