Shadow of Sirius Steven BRYANT (b. 1972)
Concerto for Wind Ensemble (2007-2010) [34:10] Joel PUCKETT (b. 1977) Shadow of Sirius - Concerto for Flute with Wind and Percussion
(2009) [22:46] John MACKEY (b. 1973) Kingfishers Catch Fire (2007) [10:46]
Marianne Gedigian (flute)
University of Texas Wind Ensemble/Jerry F. Junkin
rec. 30-31 October 2010, Bates Recital Hall, Butler School of Music,
University of Texas at Austin, TX, USA
Reviewed as a 24/96 download from eClassical
Pdf booklet included
Also available on Naxos NBD0048 (Blu-ray Audio) NAXOS WIND BAND CLASSICS 9.70255 [67:42]
What an immensely rewarding series this is, and how
accomplished these American university ensembles. Among the albums I’ve
already reviewed are Point
Blank (Illinois State), Landscapes
(Kansas) and Bernstein
Transcriptions (South Carolina). In the main these wind band
programmes feature contemporary works that you probably won’t
hear elsewhere. What better showcase for composers than this, where
the music is played with a passion and polish that would put many a
professional group to shame? Throw in good recorded sound and you begin
to see why this is such an important part of the Naxos catalogue.
At the time of writing (November 2015) Shadow of Sirius was
only available on Blu-ray Audio (24/96 stereo and dts-HD Master Audio
5.1) and to download or stream; it has yet to appear on CD. I’m
not sure why that should be the case, but the antiphonal trumpets of
John Mackey’s Kingfishers Catch Fire do lend themselves
to a multi-channel mix. That said, the high-res stereo download is very
impressive; in fact it’s well up to the standard set by previous
instalments in the series.
Indeed, the opening movement of Steven Bryant’s Concerto for
Wind Ensemble, with its weaving woodwinds, is astonishingly tactile.
The plethora of rhythms that follow – the lower brass add thrilling
ballast to the score – speaks of an imaginative, well-crafted
piece. The more delicate instrumental strands and muted colours of the
second movement are no less alluring. Goodness, these young Texans don’t
just play with panache they add plenty of feeling, too; the sense of
absolute engagement – of hushed intensity – that attends
this movement is ample proof of that.
The flow of invention is undiminished in the work’s wonderfully
mobile central section; here, in the manner of Bartók’s Concerto
for Orchestra, various instruments and groups thereof get to have
their say. The breezy basses – what plucky pluckers they are –
and those bracing tuttis are a pleasing contrast to the goosebumpy bass
drum that underpins the fourth movement. Gongs shimmer gently in the
gloaming, while Jerry F. Junkin, the university’s Director of
Bands, does a splendid job of maintaining both precision and momentum.
As for the concerto’s big-band finale, so pithy and propulsive,
it’s a real showstopper. Bryant is supremely confident composer
who doesn't over-reach himself or overwork his material. These players
do him proud.
Joel Puckett’s Shadow of Sirius takes its name from an
eponymous collection of poetry by W. S. Merwin, published in 2008. As
Anthony C. Marinello, III points out in his somewhat sketchy liner-notes,
Puckett wrote the piece in response to ‘a personal tragedy’.
The solo part is taken by the university’s Professor of Flute,
Marianne Gedigian. In the unsettled first movement,The Nomad Flute,
the soloist is confronted at every turn by percussive challenges. Even
at this early stage it's clear that this score, like Bryant’s,
is characterised by an economy of style that’s both compelling
and proportionate. The committed and sensitive musicianship of all concerned
is an added bonus.
The central Eye of Shadow has a spare, darkly elegiac quality
– as does Gedigian’s warm, unaffected playing – that’s
very moving indeed. The writing is remarkably uncluttered and the spacious
recording, engineered by Silas Brown and Charlie Post, is pricked with
moments of pure loveliness. Also, Gedigian brings a gentle, Faun-like
sense of reverie to the final movement, Into the Clouds. What
a joy it is to hear contemporary, resolutely tonal music that still
has something to say. Not the most probing of pieces, perhaps, but it’s
deeply satisfying nonetheless; indeed, it lingers in the mind long after
the last notes have faded.
John Mackey’s Kingfishers Catch Fire was commissioned
by a group of Japanese wind ensembles. Such collective approaches –
the Bryant and Puckett pieces included - seem to be the norm these days.
That said, the method hardly matters when it results in works of such
quality and substance. Following falls and falls of rain, the
evanescent first part of Mackey’s pictorial piece, has a rich
plumage all of its own. The sonorities here are just gorgeous, the brass
superbly blended; therafter the virtuosic second part, Kingfishers
catch fire, explodes in a veritable riot of light and motion. This
may be a short piece, but it's sure to be a hit with lovers of the genre.
I doff my hat to these terrifically talented Texans; a top-notch recording,