Listening Response #1: Wallen

This week, I enjoyed the opportunity to hear an album of works by contemporary composer Errollyn Wallen. With the exception of “I Wouldn’t Normally Say,” the works are each short pieces scored for voice and piano accompaniment. While it is easy to sense that the same voice could have conceived of each of these pieces, they still represent an eclectic range of styles and aesthetics.

Although the verbal and harmonic language feel modern and colloquial, parts of these works seem to draw from much older traditions. Daedalus, for example, seems inspired by the Greek mythological figure of the same name—a figure who was forced to escape a labyrinth and who lamented the loss of his son who flew into the sun. The text, and the wondering, unmetered qualities of the piece help establish this story. Other pieces I likened to some of the Medieval music I’m listening presently studying in my Music History class—especially the idea of rhythmic modes. I noticed these especially when following the score to “North,” as the text setting is mostly syllabic and follows regular repeating rhythms.

The composer was also artful in her use of humor, especially in the titles she chose for her pieces. For example, the piece titled “Beehive” ends with the singer’s falsetto, imitating the course buzzing sound of bees. And, while most pieces in the album employ both a voice and a piano accompaniment, but the piece titled “I Wouldn’t Normally Say” does not. Similarly, the piece “Off the Map” becomes increasingly disoriented, as though the speaker really is loosing a sense of direction, and ends rather abruptly. I especially enjoyed hearing at the tail end of this recording the vocalist giving a light chuckle, perhaps overwhelmed by this clever joke.

For me, the most powerful image from this album was that of the opening bars of “Hudson, Mississippi, and Thames.” The piano creates a shimmering effect in the arpeggiation of a major triad, and a voice soon enters in a leisurely lilting theme, as if gliding down one of the rivers in the title. This sequence reminded me of the opening minutes of Wagner’s Das Rheingold, which also creates a shimmering effect in the arpeggiation of a major chord, and builds gradually until the entrance of the first voice with a similarly lilting melodic figure. Both works also center around rivers as their principle subject matter. Additionally, such lyrics as “taught the wind to sing,” personify certain aspects of the natural world, much like the mythological traditions in which Wagner developed his narratives.

Never overly pretentious or abstruse, this music finds novel ways to present all of these old ideas through a musical and verbal language that speaks to modern audiences. Although I’ve never heard Wallen’s works before, I’m so glad I’ve had this opportunity to encounter her music, and I hope to hear much more of it in the future.