A glass of petite syrah. The comfortable company of a longtime friend. Second-row seats to an evening with Philip Glass in the storied Boulder Theater.
Tuesday night’s 80-minute program of four sets of solo piano works by the famous avant-garde composer had the makings of a memorable Valentine’s evening. And the art deco theater was an ideal setting for the sparse milieu of Glass’ economical style.
Opening with “Mad Rush” – a dance accompaniment originally scored for organ and premiered by Glass in honor of the Dalai Lama’s 1981 visit to New York City – Glass immediately brought to the forefront the subtle dynamic variations and often dramatic tempo fluctuations within a constant flow of arpeggios.
While “Mad Rush” is musically straightforward and transparent, Glass evoked a sense of plaintive longing that transitioned into his more complex and dense “Metamorphosis.”
Performing four of five of its relational movements in random order, Glass’ presentation of the grouping cast a contemplative charm over the packed house. The audience seemed silently unified in the heartbeat of a work that is less about transformation and change than it is a resonant meditation thereon. Stripped of the trappings of ensemble performances and electronic accouterments, Glass’ portrayal of “Metamorphosis” was a study of the deeply personal affect of his distinct, evolving rhythmic themes.
The evening’s centerpiece was an overall successful rendering of Glass’ first nine Etudes, a disparate set of works, each of which homes in on a specific piano technique – from arpeggios to aggressive chord progressions.
These piano studies are a departure from Glass’ usual strict adherence to repetitive motifs, offering instead a glimpse of his sophisticated skill as a lyrical melodist. The result was an exploration of moods, from pensive and poignant to insistent and hard-hitting.
In a poetic ending that proved his crossover success and cross-generational appeal, Glass chose “Closing” as his final program selection. Here his romantic, sensual side emerged in a sequence of lyrical melodies intertwined among waves of more undulating arpeggios.
That said, at 69 years old, the quintessential “minimalist” composer doesn’t measure up as a pianist. His performance was punctuated by inarticulate technique, truncated phrasings and overpedaling. He also seemed to lose his way a few times among the Etudes.
Still, the open system that is Glass’ music leaves room for listeners to bring themselves into it, to experience an entirely different response to it than the person sitting next to you.
Within a stylistic framework of repetition and reiteration, there is ample space for individual freedom of interpretation. To encounter yourself like that in the intimacy of a live performance by an enduring master of experimental music is memorable indeed.
