My late MusicWeb International colleague Bob Briggs was passionate
about the music of Barbara Harbach (b. 1946). He is responsible
for most of this site’s previous discussions of her music:
Volume
1, Volume
2, Volume
3, Volume
4, Volume
5; Byzantion covered Volume
6. This seventh CD in the Harbach anthology, dedicated to
music for string orchestra, is my introduction to her music,
and I’m going to join Bob and Byzantion in enthusiastic
advocacy of her music.
For those who missed the first six reviews, Barbara Harbach
is an American organist, harpsichordist, researcher and teacher
(at University of Missouri, St Louis) who has edited new editions
of Clara Schumann and earlier women composers, recorded for
labels such as Albany and Naxos, and evidently found time to
compose a lot of music too. Her works are distinctive and immediately
appealing. This is a tonal, in some ways old-fashioned American
sound, with plaintive harmonies, hymn-like tunes, and a simple
beauty throughout (think Appalachian Spring meets African
spirituals). But I’m misusing the word simple, because
Harbach’s music is finely crafted at all times; this is
a composer whose every stroke makes her ability clear.
It’s hard to describe Harbach’s style because she
falls in that unfortunate no-man’s-land of contemporary
composition: music that’s undeniably rewarding to listen
to from the very start, and appealing to everybody, but not
at all kitschy, pandering or simplistic. New should always mean
different, and while Harbach has clear antecedents she’s
no imitation, but new shouldn’t always mean taxing, and
this CD is not. The tone is set immediately by the Sinfonietta,
with its wistful opening movement, reminiscent of Barber and
Copland in its melodic, clearly heartfelt searching for some
kind of solace which is not found. The rest is more chromatic
and ‘modern’ but with humor and an earnest spirit:
Copland might again come to mind, but he was more acidic at
times, and his tunes had a recognizable stamp where these blaze
their own trails.
Many of the selections are based on African-American spirituals
and other folk traditions; the Freedom Suite bears three
portraits of members of the Scott family (Dred Scott was the
slave who, in 1857, unsuccessfully brought a Supreme Court case
suing for his freedom), and its movements quote or evoke spirituals
from the heart of the American south. The Two Songs from The
Sacred Harp are similarly affecting melodic gems, based
on hymns from very early in American history (The Sacred
Harp was an 1844 hymn-book), but with Harbach’s own
sensitive updating. The first song brings a second melody stated
by a solo violist and then developed by solo violin and cello;
the second contains a gentle fugue on a tune published in 1770.
As beautiful as those are, the standout for me is the Demarest
Suite, written for a school orchestra in the town of Demarest,
New Jersey. For this unlikely commission, Harbach has written
a twelve-minute masterpiece: the opening sees expansive, open-ended
sonorities (more reminiscent of string music by, say, Rautavaara)
take shape over a jaunty bass line. According to the booklet,
this first movement is meant to symbolize childhood and young
love, but while I can hear a sense of ‘new beginnings,’
it seems to better capture the feeling of waking up with an
out-of-nowhere conviction that today is going to be a good day.
The second movement is a tango, as we are told by the very standard
bass line, over which is hung a slightly more melancholic mood.
Then comes the finale, which feels like a jovial country dance
spanning multiple hemispheres, since its main theme sounds a
lot like the Russian folk-tune from Beethoven’s Razumovsky
quartets. (The Cold War symbolically ended?) It’s all
an absolute delight and, if this was played by a school orchestra,
it can’t be out of reach for many amateur string ensembles.
They’ll love playing it, too, assuming they love string
music by, say, Grieg, Tchaikovsky, or Wirén, or the fantasia
on Greensleeves.
The CD includes three shorter pieces, the moving elegy In
Memoriam, a rather lively rhapsody called Nights in Timisoara,
which doesn’t sound as Romanian as Enescu but never mind,
and an arrangement of a tiny, instantly likable polka by Kate
Chopin - whom you may recall as the author of The Awakening.
If I have one criticism of Harbach, it’s her overreliance
- common among today’s composers - on movement and work
titles which bear little relation to the music. The Demarest
tango is “inspired by” a letter from Abigail Adams
to her husband John; how this relates to the music, or why it
is at all relevant, or why the letter should inspire a tango
of all things, is a mystery. The Sinfonietta’s
movements are all named in French, but shouldn’t “Jeu
Jeu” be “Jeux”?
At any rate, ignore the odd names and focus on the music: for
those who admire polished string music in the tradition of Barber,
Vaughan Williams, and Grieg, with a generous dollop of Americana,
this album will be a treat. I’ll be seeking out more of
Harbach’s music in time; the previous volumes in this
series have been well-loved on this site too. Truly a voice
worth hearing.
Brian Reinhart
London Philharmonic Orchestra/David Angus 