Customer Reviews

John Adams: Naive and Sentimental Music

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3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

John Adams has been gathering increasing audiences since his earliest works which were applauded more because of their originality than because of their innate musicality. Early works like 'Shaker Loops' led to the Opera 'Nixon in China' and while that opera drew large appreciative audiences because of the topic, it still was up to Adams to prove himself a durable, growing composer of lasting classical music. In this remarkable recording of NAIVE AND SENTIMENTAL MUSIC, commissioned by the orchestra and conductor who perform it here (Esa-Pekka Salonen and the LA Phil), we finally have a symphonic work that stands very tall as pure music. No need for a chorus or vocal soloists( as in the magnificent 'Harmonium' based on the poetry of Emily Dickenson, or 'El Nino', his oratorio for the Christmas season or 'The Wound Dresser' which is perhaps the most brilliant setting of Walt Whitman ever conceived): this is simply grand orchestral work. The opening measures draw us into the cradling effect of folk tunes, but that effect blossoms into a complex and colorful flight of fancy. The second movement is an elegy of quiet beauty and the last movement restates some of Adams earlier writing motifs but gradually binds these together into a electrifying explosion of blatantly romantic sound. Salonen and the LA Phil play this score as if to the music born - which in this case is reality! Excellent sonics and depth of range on the recording make the entire experience of getting to know this masterpiece a complete joy.

I guess I might be alone in my perception of John Adams' Naive and Sentimental music, but I shall say more about that later.

I heard this extraordinary music on the radio (only some 4 minutes of the first part's middle section) and I was instantly hooked. I searched the radio station's website the next day to discover what they were playing and I discovered an artist I never heard of before, but who is actually a very important figure in contemporary classical music as I learned soon. When I got the CD I discovered a whole new musical world, somewhere between tonal romanticism, minimalistic "repetitive" building layers of music and "atonal" (I don't belive there is such thing)contemporary composition.
Postmodern modernism could be the word.

So, back to the title of this review. The massive, "alienated" music, that reminds at times of "american" film-score classics, with strong dark tones, powerful outbursts of energy and sparkling, floating parts of music with "elvish" (since we're in the age of Lord of the Rings histeria - which I approve somehow)
undernotes. So, what is the artist trying to say? He moved me to some other state of counciousness and inspired visual worlds coherent with the design of the CD, which somehow transport me to some endless, dreamy "Americana" dream(land)scape similar to Jarmush's Dead Man movie setting and atmosphere.

Great work by Esa Pekka Salonen and LA Philly.

I wish Adams would venture even further into those "twilight" realms and maybe abandon the "layering principle" in favour of more rhytmically and sylistically diverse principles as exemplified by Stravinsky and other greats of symphonic invention. But I deeply admire his melodic invention and orchestration ideas. Go beyond, if you read this Mr.Adams.

This is the finest orchestral writing of John Adams' career. I have to agree with the newspaper critic who commented that while there are no real departures here from the familiar Adams voice (as heard in Harmonielehre, Nixon in China, the Violin Concerto, etc.), all of the expected tricks of melody, rhythm, harmony, and orchestration are delivered with an unprecedented mastery and assuredness, and on a grand new scale.

The performance is perfect as well. Salonen brings out the sharp, modern edges of the piece without sacrificing grace, subtlety, or tenderness of feeling. I know this must seem over-the-top, but I think I can recommend this recording to anyone interested in the symphony orchestra, without reservation.

Ah, John Adams! I've been tracking this dude's work since I lived in Berkeley in the mid-70s, and it really hasn't let me down yet. I heard Adams conduct this piece with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra a couple of years ago, and it was like sitting in front of a 747 taking off! The first and last movements are filled with intense, complex patterns and textures that change kaleidoscopically, while the middle movement is gentle, featuring a loping electric guitar solo. Esa-Pekka Salonen and the LA Phil give this a phenomenally tight reading that renders all the complex textures in high relief. I felt I understood the piece better from this recording than from hearing it live. Elegant packaging from Nonesuch, and an insightful essay by Ingram Marshall add to the pleasure of this recording.

Reading this bunch of intelligent reviews for John Adam's work is a great experience. No one seems to be bored by this score and the music intonates lots of different feelings.

Personally I find this music a masterpiece. Not because of all the obvious skill displayed from composer and performers alike. Nor because (as most agree) the orchestration is perfect.

What I think the core of this artistic achievement is John Adams ability capture the Zeitgeist of 1999. It is as if the optimism, all the hype and drive of the 1990s found its way into his score. This is very much music for a certain place at a certain point in history.

Adams also turns this upside down when melancholy and irony takes over in the last movement. There is a ambivalence at play not heard in many film scores (nor in most music at all).
The analogy with Mahler is obvious - a classical composers takes the simple and perhaps sentimental pop idiom then turns it into monument of his time.
John Adams is - I think - the better composer, but the fate of his music (and its critics) will be very similar indeed.

Somehow, Adams does it. I heard the piece for the first time aftering buying the album and just 'going for it' as I like to say. I had heard of Adams in a magazine, but never heard anything besides "Short Ride in a Fast Machine." So I had an idea of what I was getting into, but no clue as to how amazing it truly would be. I didn't expect the music to be as mature as it sounds - after all the title is "Naive.. Sentimental." I expected something more subdued or at least subtle. The second movement may pass as subdued or subtle - but the other two are rides, be sure to hang on. It's good music, it really is - it's good stuff that you need to look into.

This is one of the most impressive symphonic compositions by an American composer in years. This is Adams on a genuine massive scale - similar to his Harmonielehre, and it is equally as impressive. In many ways, this - for me - is a more stunning achievement. The first movement builds to as thrilling and exciting a finale as one is likely to hear - everything going at "full tilt boogie".

The second movement, "Mother of the Man" is breathtaking, reminiscent of Mahler. Various solo instruments enter playing a simple, but heartrending melody - most noticeably the electric guitar. Adams use of the guitar here is masterful, not shocking and the sound of the guitar achieving an instantly haunting sonority that almost defies words.

The final movement "Chain to the Rhythm" sounds more like vintage Adams - indeed brings on a return of the work's intensity - a propulsion in rhythm that elicits the feeling of "no turning back." It is exhilarating, new and yet somehow familiar. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that in its first year "Naïve and Sentimental" music received performances in LA, Chicago and Boston. May it receive a healthy performance life and may this beautifully recorded performance sell like hotcakes!

God Bless John Adams - and Nonesuch!

The following is from my review of a live performance of Naive & Sentimental Music by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by Esa-Pekka Salonen. All comments apply equally to this recording.

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Los Angeles Philharmonic Music Director Esa-Pekka Salonen is conducting tonight, and he trots onstage displaying the "boyish good looks" and "hip wardrobe" that are inevitably mentioned whenever you read about him. The first half of the program is Naive and Sentimental Music by John Adams, which I am particularly looking forward to. I was obsessed with musical Minimalism during my formative geeky teenage years, especially the Holy Trinity of composers Philip Glass, Steve Reich, and John Adams. I wore out my LPs of "needle stuck in the groove" Minimalist classics such as Glass' Einstein on the Beach and The Photographer, Reich's Music for 18 Musicians and Octet, and Adams' Harmonium and Shaker Loops. I've also continued to listen to the newer music by all of these composers (with varying degrees of disappointment) here in the "laser beam stuck in the aluminum" CD era. John Adams has certainly made out well for himself in the "establishment" orchestra and opera world over the years, becoming perhaps the most performed and applauded contemporary composer out there right now. (Interestingly, though, his "official" website is awful compared to Phil's and Steve's...)

A massive orchestra is assembled on the stage for the nearly hour-long Naive and Sentimental Music, including a rogue's gallery of percussionists playing such exotic instruments as almglocken, high anvil, Chinese gongs, "ranch" triangles, and sleigh bells. The usual full complement of brass, strings, and winds are also joined by two harps, piano, celeste, guitar, and -- as if Adams couldn't get all the sounds he wanted from the 100+ other instruments on stage -- a Kurzweil synthesizer.

There's something I've noticed listening to quite a few newly composed orchestra works over the years: beware of huge percussion sections -- more often than not, it turns out the composer is trying to compensate for a lack of melodic and harmonic interest by throwing in as many gadgets, toys, and strange sounds as possible to keep things "interesting." Unfortunately, Naive and Sentimental Music confirms this observation.

The first movement begins with the awkwardly amplified guitarist (who is actually one of the CSO's string bass players) strumming chords rhythmically and accompanied by flutes and strings attempting to establish a very unmemorable melodic line. More and more instruments join the mix playing what are probably various permutations of that feeble melody, those percussionists keep busy back there running back and forth between different instruments, and Esa-Pekka tries to hold it all together with curious but entertaining arm gestures. You get the idea that this all sounded cool when Mr. Adams pressed play on his expensive MIDI music software set-up, but that real human beings are being asked to do some pretty strange inhuman things and that there are probably more time signatures and polyrhythms going on here than anybody should ever have to keep track of. It keeps building and building, yet just sitting there making lots of noise and not really going anywhere... and then it's over.

Actually we've only just begun... now it's time for the second movement, "Mother of the Man," which we learn from Mr. Adams' (really really long) program notes is a "gloss on Busoni's Berceuse elegiaque." That poor bassist-turned-guitarist is front and center again here, strangling all of his notes. Bowed vibraphone is featured prominently, setting an ethereal mood and promting everyone to nudge their companion and point at the stage -- "Look at that... they're playing the vibes with violin bows... isn't that cool?" Things meander along pleasantly here, occasionally becoming dissonant but mostly floating in an almost New Age-y bliss. Fellow audience members are nodding off in droves, and frankly I consider joining them a few times... The low brass chords concluding this movement are particularly lovely, but frankly you can enjoy this same kind of mood in about half the time by simply listening to Busoni's Berceuse elegiaque instead.

As is customary at the end of every slow, quiet movement performed at Orchestra Hall, the audience coughs, hacks, shuffles, and converse amongst themselves in the most obvious way possible. It would almost be funny if it weren't so embarrasing... do the audiences do this in L.A. too, I wonder? And what about Finland? Esa-Pekka offered no clues...

At last we arrive at the final movement, "Chain to the Rhythm" which lives up to the probably unintended masochistic implications of its name. This is a real "garbage pizza" of a loud and clattery mess where Adams empties out everything in his bag of tricks including repeated clarinet eighth-notes fading in and out ripped right from the pages of Reich's Music for 18 Musicians. The percussionists are running around beating the sh*t out of everything in sight, brass players and blatting out chords all over the place, the poor string players are fiddling around with endless ostinatos, and Mr. Salonen is doing a modern dance worthy of Martha Graham. For the first time that I could see, the Kurzweil synthesizer lady finally does something for a couple minutes, but even her amplified instrument can't be heard above all the clutter. The guitarist looks happy to be sitting this one out, and after thousands of notes have been hurled at us for no apparent reason, the whole thing suddenly stops. Several people leap to their feet shouting "Bravos" and whistling so loud you'd think the Bears had just made it to the next round of the NFL playoffs, while the rest of us clap politely and can hardly wait to get a cocktail during intermission to soothe our frayed nerves and throbbing eardrums.

After reading the various negative reviews of Adams' "Naive and Sentimental Music," I came to the realization that there are many classical listeners around even today who won't let go of the past to experience new music. It doesn't matter how the music actually sounds or even who it's composed by, these people's mentality seems to be "if it was composed in recent times, it's garbage." My response is that people often never give music a chance to begin with. They hear something one or two times and completely dismiss it right away. The worst case scenario is the listener says they've heard the work, but they actually never have, but then have the audacity to criticize something they haven't heard. It's sad to say that this kind of attitude is all too prominent in classical music.

When I first heard John Adams' "Naive and Sentimental Music," it didn't make much of an impression on me. The music just seemed like it didn't do much. The second movement, however, was quite beautiful even on my first listen, but still, I wasn't that enthralled with the overall sound or style of the composition. Fast forward five months later, I sat down with this recording again and was completely blown away this time around. Suddenly I heard all of the textures and rhythms that I didn't quite hear on the first go around. "Naive and Sentimental Music" is a tour-de-force of shifting meters, especially in the first movement when about nine minutes into the movement the string section just explodes with syncopated riffs. I have really come to enjoy the whole work. I don't think the casual classical listener is going to get it the first time around, but just stick with it.

Esa-Pekka Salonen, for whom the work was dedicated to, conducts with personality, energy, patience, and with a clear understanding of the music's structure. The Los Angeles Philharmonic perform admirably well. The sound quality couldn't be any better.

If you're new to Adams, then I don't think "Naive and Sentimental Music" is the best place to start for the simple fact that this is Adams in his mature style. I would start with his early music like "Harmonium," "The Chairman Dances," "Fearful Symmetries," and "Harmonielehre." If you like these works, then continue to move forward to later works like "The Dharma at Big Sur," "Century Rolls," "Violin Concerto," "Doctor Atomic Symphony," and the string orchestra version of "Shaker Loops." If you enjoy these works, then "Naive and Sentimental Music" will be right up your alley. Let your ears be the judge, don't listen to the critics, all composers have their select group of naysayers. Adams has remained a controversial composer for years, but the only way to appreciate his music is by giving it a chance and listening with an open-mind.

It is a pity that in terms of overall structure John Adams's compositions tend to fall into the same category so often, that of the long drawn out orchestral crescendo. The first movement of this piece is the latest of these: rather like a latter-day Bolero, only more dissonant and without the tunes. Fortunately Adams's music is nothing if not pleasing to the ear, so it is no punishment to sit through these 45 minutes or so of "Naive and sentimental music". But underneath that selfconsciously ironic title and the glittering surface I'm not sure there is very much there, certainly nothing that adds anything of substance to his previous works (many of which I consider to be among the best things to be written in our time). In style and sound I found this piece very similar to El Dorado and the Violin Concerto; only less powerful or purposeful than the first, less mysterious or haunting than the latter, and less clear in its arguments than either. The second and third movement let me down after a promising start. The slow second part begins as fascinating music of the spheres, with a hint of Coplandesque wide-open-spaces. There is also a striking affinity with Neptune from Holst's Planets. But then the guitar solo enters and things degenerate into, well yes, sentimentality. The third movement opens in wide eyed wonder and with a tremendous sense of expectation, like the final part of Harmonielehre - only to fall flat on its face after the first few minutes, stumble to its feet again, and meander noisily towards its close. There is a large percussion section here which according to the booklet is used mainly to generate subtle shadings of timbre, not sheer power. Don't be surprised if your neighbours do not share that view! Adams here seems convinced that a musical message is best conveyed by having bass drums hammer it into the listener. It is a pity, because we know he has a so much subtler side. After his intensely moving El Niño, this is a distinct disappointment and certainly not, in my view, the masterpiece it has been made out to be. Adams has successfully escaped the repetitions of minimal music; I hope he manages to steer clear of the repetitions that befall the uninspired composer.The playing of the LA orchestra, by the way, is beyond criticism. The recording is a bit dense though, and does not cope too well with big climaxes.