This playlist is meant to end your experience with the space around you as you leave and bring the concepts of Deep Listening and the awareness of your surroundings with you. Choose any track, listen in any order — the choice is yours.

Program

The Wind in High Places — John Luther Adams (b. 1953), arr. Alex Goodin

1. Above Sunset Pass

Glacier Blue — Alexander Miller (b. 1968)

In Wisconsin Woods — Brent Michael Davids (b. 1959)

Red River — Mason Bates (b. 1977)

1. The Continental Divide

2. Interstate

3. Zuni Visions from the Canyon Walls

4. Hoover Slates Vegas

5. Running Dry on the Sonoran Floor

Fractured Water — Shawn Okpebholo (b. 1981)

Rivers Empyrean — Patrick O’Malley (b. 1989)

1. The Lake

2. Southern Branch and Calumet

3. Main Stem

4. Woods and Sloughs

5. North Branch

6. Deep Tunnel

Low Country Haze — Dan Visconti (b. 1981)

Musicians:

Jenny Shin, flute
Grace Hong, oboe
Elizandro Garcia-Montoya, clarinet
Galina Kiep, bassoon
Parker Nelson, french horn
Khelsey Zarraga, violin
Mason Spencer, viola
Herine Coetzee Koschak, cello
Jason Niehoff, double bass
Saetbyeol Kim, piano

American Indian Center Big Drum Ensemble:
Niyol Spencer (Chata/Diné) - Lead Singer
Dave Spencer (Chata/Diné)
Shawn Canning (Sisseton Wahpeton Oyate)
James Martinez (Apache)
Jordan Gurneau (Ojibwe)
Holly Spencer

Beth Bradfish, composer and sound designer
Alex Inglisian, consulting creative engineer

Program Notes

John Luther Adams, arr. Alex Goodin — The Wind in High Places

When I think about "nature," I often picture distant and remote vistas. I envision landscapes untouched by human development: snowy mountain tops, vast and barren deserts, the depths of our world's oceans. In other words, I picture places that are not "here" and "now."

John Luther Adams, in his string quartet entitled The Wind in High Places, evokes similarly isolated landscapes from his home state of Alaska. The movement we are performing today, I. Above Sunset Pass, breathes an early morning breeze over a distant mountain range.

The other day, however, I read an article stating that microplastics, tiny man-made fibers that result from plastic pollution, were found in a remote area of the French Pyrenees Mountains. It struck me that, even in such a far-off and pristine ecosystem, human impact clearly reverberates through the landscape.

This article served as a reminder that although we may not see what we think of as "nature" right outside our windows, our actions and choices have tangible and far-reaching impacts on our natural world. We are a part of nature even as we sit behind our computers typing emails and eating Cheetos.

The musical language for The Wind in High Places is inspired by the Aeolian Harp, an instrument that produces sound when the wind blows across its strings. Adams expresses this intimate sound by notating only open strings and natural harmonics (when players lightly touch a string at a certain place, and then draw the bow).

As you listen to The Wind in High Places, I. Above Sunset Path, I invite you to reflect on how, as humans, we are not apart from nature. Rather, we are integrally linked to the natural world and thus have a responsibility to care for and protect it, whether it's outside our window or across the world.

– Alex Goodin

Alexander Miller — Glacier Blue

North Cascades National Park has been designated as a national park since October 2, 1968. Eight days after Alexander Lamont Miller (and his twin brother) were born. Its majestic mountains, serene lakes, and immense glaciers have inspired people to create art and share stories for decades. Miller has his own experience with the North Cascades, which he shares in his notes on the piece:

“When I was growing up, my family took frequent trips to the Pacific Northwest to visit my grandparents. From their home in Portland, Oregon, we would travel inland, often to Mount Hood for a few days. It is nearly impossible to go between any two locations in the Pacific Northwest without needing to account for a mountain pass or a glacier. One time we tried a shortcut, naughtily driving around a "road closed for the season" sign, so we could save a few hours on a long, twisty drive. Just looking at it on the map, it sure seemed like a good idea at the time. But an hour into the shortcut our brilliant plan ended abruptly at the foot of an enormous glacier which looked to be swallowing the road whole.”

Miller finds comfort in knowing that there are forces at play in nature that are larger than us. He came away from this experience happy instead of frustrated about the lost time – awestruck by the immensity and power of nature.

– Eric Heidbreder

Brent Michael Davids — In Wisconsin Woods 

In Wisconsin Woods is a work for one or two performers, and highlights the unique bass flute made from quartz. Based on a text of Susan Power (Dakota), "In Wisconsin Woods" is about a Native American man who, searching for answers, goes out into the woods to find his father's grave. Graveside he discovers a huge pine tree growing up in the middle of it. Then through a heightened relationship with the tree, the man rediscovers what it means to be Winnebago. “In Wisconsin Woods” showcases extended instrumental techniques, such as key pops, pitch bends, breathy whisper tones, and singing

harmony while playing. "In Wisconsin Woods" was premiered at the Atlantic Center for the Arts, New Smyrna Beach, FL, in 1992.

– Brent Michael Davids

Mason Bates — Red River

Combining a chamber ensemble with the rhythmic power and drama of electronics, Red River traces the journey of the great Colorado River to its various destinations in the Southwest — Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon, the California desert — where its overuse is a source of endless controversy. Perhaps no body of water better illustrates the age-old confrontation of humankind and nature than the great Colorado, whose very name embodies this struggle. Its early designation as Red River was a nod to the rich color arising from its special silt, which ultimately ended up trapped behind various dams erected along its way. The name changed to pay homage to the river’s source, high up in the Colorado Rockies at the Continental Divide — and that is where this work begins.

Various streams accumulate as the runoff from the Rockies builds into a formidable body of water. Quicksilver figuration in the piano is echoed by the other instruments, and the electronica beats move from ambient trip-hop to energetic drum ‘n bass. These various musical streams unite in “Interstate 70,” an epic American freeway that parallels the Colorado through the state of Utah, and the electronics disappear as the ensemble falls into a bumpy and capricious ride.

As we arrive at the central, lyrical “Zuni Visions,” we find ourselves floating high above the river in the red rocks of Arizona’s Grand Canyon. The Zuni Indians once lived in caves up in the walls of the Canyon, and the atmospheric electronics and bending clarinet melody imagine us looking down at the river with them. This ponderous movement ends abruptly with the arrival of enormous machinery, and the ensuing “Hoover Slates Vegas” uses all manner of industrial beats in the electronics to conjure the building of the Hoover Dam — the great sink of Las Vegas — with a nod to the razzle-dazzle of that thirsty city. Exhausted by all this human activity, the river (and the piece) moves to its final resting place, the huge Sonoran Desert in southeastern California. The trickles of the opening have now run dry, and all we are left with is the buzzing of a Sonoran cricket amidst the vast emptiness of the desert. Many thanks to Antares for joining me in this new work, and to Ted Huffman for inviting me to his wonderful festival.

– Mason Bates

Shawn Okpebholo — Fractured Water

FRACTURED /ˈfrakCHərd/ adjective: split or broken and unable to function or exist. WATER /ˈwôdər / noun: Water; noun: a colorless, transparent, odorless liquid that forms the seas, lakes, rivers, and rain and is the basis of the fluids of living organisms. Fractured Water is a trio for flute, cello, and piano, where each performer—at various points throughout the composition— doubles on water percussion. This work was commissioned byThe Fifth House Ensemble (5HE) for their Rivers Empyrean Concert Series. 5HE writes, “at a time when the environment is more threatened than ever with pollution and our lifegiving waterways at risk, 5HE traces the life cycle of water from its metaphorical descent from the heavens as rain, to its long journey in streams and rivers informed by conservation experts and ecologists.” In Fractured Water, I attempt to bring awareness to pressing concerns about water pollution, conservation, and perseveration with a particular focus on the Chicago River. Living in the Chicagoland, this river has personal significance, not only for its beauty, but also as sustaining life-source for people and animals in this region. Perhaps the most famous aspect of the Chicago River is that in 1887, through innovative human-engineering, the flow of the river was reversed to deal with an environmental and sanitary crisis due to pollution and waste. I have found that discussions on the topic of the environment and water pollution center on three distinct narratives: sincere concern (shedding light on a genuine life-altering issue); argument (working out how to solve these issues, often highjacked by diametrically opposed political debates); and hope. My interpretation of, and engagement with, these three narratives is the source of my musical expression. Because of the reversing of the Chicago River’s flow, throughout this piece there are instances, some quite subtle, of retrograde. In spite of the risks posed to vital waterways throughout the world, the piece has elements of hope, as I reference the spiritual, “Down in the River to Pray.”

– Shawn Okpebholo

Patrick O’Malley — Rivers Empyrean

Rivers Empyrean was commissioned by Chicago-based Fifth House Ensemble, who have been friends of mine since I was a student in their summer festival, Fresh Inc., back in 2013. The genesis of this work was a collaboration between Fifth House and the Friends of the Chicago River (FCR) designed to celebrate environmental conservation through music. In meeting with representatives from FCR, I learned a great deal about the Chicago River system, its fascinating history, and the efforts being taken in the present day to improve the ecology of the river, not only for the sake of the river's health, but also for the people who enjoy the beauty and usefulness that it has to offer. 

In addition to learning about the Chicago River from FCR and looking over their data materials concerning pollution and overflow etc., I also spent a week touring the various areas that the river services. This research trip inspired the six sections of music that make up the piece Rivers Empyrean. Each section represents my musical reaction to witnessing these various facets of the river, and hopefully the beauty that I experienced in each.

I. The Lake

No discussion of the Chicago River can be had without mentioning the importance of Lake Michigan. The lake has served Chicago's history not only as a water route to the city, but also as the city's primary source of drinking water. Protecting this life-giving resource has been pivotal in the history of the Chicago River, including the reversal of the river direction in the early 20th century. I try to capture the vastness and depth of the lake with muted low strings on the piano, as well as the sense of calmness I felt on its shores with a solo for the violin. 

II. Southern Branch and Calumet

The southern branch of the Chicago River is manmade, and I was particularly struck by the juxtaposition of industry and nature along its banks. One can visit a pleasant park on one side of the river and see a busy scrapyard or shipping company on the other. The forest preserves along the Little Calumet offer places for fishing and relaxation - on one of my first stops I saw a piece of land dedicated as a small airfield with patrons flying model planes above the protected river woodlands. As such this section of music has two sides: the first is an energetic, carefree but muscular episode for the full ensemble dedicated to the work and relaxation those along this area of the river find. The second is a short trio for strings capturing the peaceful feeling of sitting under a river bridge with people fishing as the sun begins to set.

III. Main Stem

The main stem of the Chicago River is best experienced downtown, with the nonstop hustle and bustle of the city all around you. As such, I've written a loud, propulsive dance for the ensemble, with lots of dexterous writing for the winds to try to capture that feeling of energy. I also use this section as an opportunity to implement the history of the river into the music. As some may know, the Chicago River was reversed by human engineering in the beginning of the 20th century (the river used to flow into Lake Michigan, but now flows from the lake and down the southern branch). This was done because pollution from the city was being dumped into the river at such an amount that the drinking water from Lake Michigan was being threatened, as well as creating a disturbing amount of illness for those who worked along the river. Throughout this section of music, I hint at the history of pollution with a sinister bubbling motiv in the low instruments throughout, which eventually triggers a "reversal" in the music: musical gestures that are at first heard ascending, suddenly descend at the end of this section, returning to a sense of calm as the reversed flow carries the pollution away. 

IV. Woods and Sloughs

One of my favorite parts of my tour of the Chicago river-land was visiting the forest preserves along the southern branch, particularly near where the Little Calumet river begins. This area contains several small lakes and sloughs that empty into the main river, and the woods surrounding them are some of the most peaceful places you can visit right outside of the city. To capture this wonderful sense of solitude, I wrote a short duo for alto flute and clarinet, with the two instruments playing "into the piano" to make the strings vibrate with their sound. This creates a great reverberant effect that reminds me of listening to sounds echoing across still bodies of water.  

V. North Branch

The north branch of the Chicago River is the part that is least touched by human interference. Running in its original direction, I found it compelling for how isolated the river feels from human society. It is the best part of the river to experience it in its natural state. One can walk for hours along it and only occasionally come across a suburb or street to cross. I imagined this sense of purity as a solo for oboe over a gently flowing piano accompaniment, finding beauty and joy around each turn of the river. 

VI. Deep Tunnel

As impressive as the reversal of the Chicago River was as a feat of engineering, another river engineering project is currently underway to combat pollution that is equally notable. This is referred to as the "Tunnel and Reservoir Plan" (TARP), or simply "Deep Tunnel." It entails building a network of underground tunnels and large reservoirs to prevent pollution overflowing into the river during periods of heavy rain. Estimated to be fully completed by 2029, this project is an enormous endeavor, and a perfect example of the steps being taken today to continue to protect the health of the river for decades to come, in every area of the river system. I decided to capture this endeavor by creating a rainstorm with the musical instruments. The music begins gently at first, with several slow, downward lines for the cello. When the cello eventually hits its lowest note, a calamity erupts from the piano. It threatens to overwhelm the music entirely, but eventually dissipates as the storm continues on. This is my image of an overflow threatening to harm the river, but is held back thanks to the deep tunnels diverting the storm water and sewage to a safe place.

– Patrick O’Malley

Dan Visconti — Low Country Haze

In responding to conductor David Alan Miller's request for pieces inspired by one of the European voyages of exploration, I took as my subject Spanish explorer Hernando de Soto's 1540 expedition into what we now call Georgia and the Carolinas. Expedition logs written by de Soto's secretary took particular interest in the sounds of this new land in a way that can only be described as musical—the calls of strange birds the company had never heard before, the chattering of insects and other animals scurrying in the vegetation, and the new languages of the native Americans. It must have been thrilling to hear sounds that literally no other European had ever heard before.

My piece, then, is not really about de Soto himself so much as the experience of hearing the sounds of someplace mysterious and unfamiliar. The piece begins with a seemingly random chatter of percussive effects, like the snapping of twigs and clicking of insects; slowly, longer, folk-like lines begin to emerge and sing a more human song–perhaps in awe and appreciation, perhaps in excitement. As the work concludes, this vision of unspoiled splendor is overtaken by the sound of tuned wine goblets played with the fingers—the evocation of an all-enveloping haze.

Low Country Haze was commissioned by David Alan Miller and the Albany Symphony (2009).

– Dan Visconti

Rivers Empyrean and its related residency and partnership programs have been made possible with support from: Chamber Music America, through its Residency Endowment Fund; New Music USA, made possible by annual program support and/or endowment gifts from Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, Francis Goelet Charitable Lead Trusts, The Fidelity Foundation, The Rodgers & Hammerstein Foundation & Anonymous; the Elizabeth F. Cheney Foundation, and a grant from the Paul R. Judy Center for Innovation and Research at the Eastman School of Music; and Sweetwater.