Birthday Moods

Born a hundred years ago, just a single day apart, Olivier Messiaen and Elliott Carter, otherwise such strange musical bedfellows, had their December birthdays jointly celebrated Monday in San Francisco's Green Room, in a concert by the Left Coast Chamber Ensemble. Messiaen died in 1992 at age 84, but Carter lives on, seems in steady good health, and with his abilities intact continues to write music. On the program, each composer was represented by a short, pithy duo typical of his own distinct musical identity.

The opening work was Carter's Enchanted Preludes for flute and cello, from 1988. Heard as a single movement in spite of its title, the six-minute piece embodies Carter's style, as a dialogue is played out between instruments of markedly different character, unyieldingly independent of each other, whose separateness somehow achieves a satisfying, if tenuous, balance. The flute, often in its middle range, spins a silvery pattern of light, quick, fairly even notes, while the cello has a more varied role, sometimes as accompanist, sometimes as dramatic antagonist to the flute's more continuous outflow. Carter's flexible, imaginative polyphony never falters, flags, or becomes forced and overcomplicated. Instead, Enchanted Preludes has a freshness and grace not often encountered in the composer's more strenuous, ambitious efforts. Cellist Leighton Fong and flutist Stacey Pelinka made it all seem interesting, beautiful, and remarkably right. They also played the premiere of local composer Ryan Brown's Bedside Manner, presented as a "companion piece" to Enchanted Preludes. Brown chose to take an opposite tack to the Carter piece, writing in a simple, repetitively minimalist vein, and avoiding any hint of polyphony or independent voices. His work was an attractive composition and makes its point in tandem with Enchanted Preludes, but might be considerably less effective when standing alone.

Calling Up a Blackbird

After the intermission we heard Messiaen's Le Merle noir (The blackbird) for flute and piano, from 1952. Apparently this was the first time Messiaen used his imitation of a birdcall as the central musical idea in a piece. It is a startlingly original composition, with the elaborate birdcall theme confined mostly to the flute — sharply defined, virtuosic, and dartingly unpredictable. The piano, while mostly accompanying, has its own atmospheric textures and brilliant flourishes, as well as providing a poignant harmonic backdrop for some of the more lyrical passages. Stacey Pelinka (who played in every work on the program) and Eric Zivian gave the piece a strong, vital performance. Two larger works anchored the concert. Ravel's Chansons Madécasses for flute, piano, cello, and soprano (1926) ended the first half. Its three songs were composed to texts by Evariste Parny, a little-known author who wrote a series of poems set in Madagascar. The music is written in Ravel's later, more linear style, and is scored for a quartet of individuals rather than for soprano with instrumental accompaniment. As a result there are frequent solos, duos, and trios, with the full complement of performers not consistently present. The outer two songs are evocations of nature and eroticism, often delicate and subdued, with the cello muted to create a sibilant quality, soft and intense. The middle song is a harsh, angry outcry against the white man's colonialism and its duplicity, using the piccolo's piercing shrillness for added urgency. Susan Rode Morris sang with exquisite precision of line and much tonal beauty. Her interpretations often got close to the heart of the music, but underplayed the languid sensuousness implicit in the poems and in Ravel's settings. The concert ended with Ned Rorem's Trio for Flute, Cello, and Piano (1959), in a lively, energetic performance by the Ensemble. The Trio's four movements offer ample space for a variety of moods and textures, which Rorem supplies. But there is a lack of sufficient expressive content to make any of it matter very much. Rorem has the technique and musical sophistication required, but this piece sounds as though he tossed it off rather than having been deeply engaged with it. The melodic writing in the slow, second movement seems vacant and unconvincing, while the manic ensemble tuttis that periodically come crashing in are like some hysterical partygoer trying to liven up a roomful of dull people. Coming at the end of a thoughtful, distinctive program, this Trio turned into more of an anticlimax than the vibrant finale it was meant to be.