With My Heart in a Song

by Melanie Mitrano ©2005

MASTERS OF MODERN AMERICAN ART SONG. The Concert Songs of Tom Cipullo, David Del Tredici, and David Eddleman. Peter Norton Symphony Space, Leonard Nimoy Thalia. October 27, 2005.

In the interest of full disclosure, let me first divulge that I have been fortunate enough to work with all three of the distinguished composers on this concert. And while being careful to maintain my objectivity, the positive upshot is this: I know their music, I know it well, and I know what it takes to sing it that way.

Nonetheless, I don’t want to focus on the vocal performances themselves. Suffice it to say that I was at times satisfied, and at times, not so much. But let me also reveal a long-standing bias: when I enter a concert hall to hear a vocal/piano concert and see a music stand in front of the piano, I already feel disheartened. I feel this way because I know there will be a necessary disconnect, a level not reached, a song unsold. And at the risk of some presumption, I have decided to issue nothing short of a fatwa to my fellow singers: memorize your music! Or at least some of it? This does not pertain to chamber music, naturally, but certainly to songs with piano. The audience is not there to watch a rehearsal – they want their money’s worth. (And no, a song is just not the same when a singer reads from the music, no matter how skillfully done, and these ears will not even hear that argument.)

Now on to the program, which started famously with an abridged version of Tom Cipullo’s Another Reason Why I Don’t Keep a Gun in the House. This rich and varied cycle, on gritty poems by Billy Collins, was performed adroitly by tenor Michael Polscer. His voice calls to mind the title of a Canadian Brass recording, “high, bright, light and clear.” Mr. Polscer displayed excellent diction, which is paramount with texts of this depth. The highlights of the cycle were the darkly humorous “Flames,” its dancing embers flickering with sarcasm, and the title song, a phobic frenzy culminating in musical dog barking.

Next was the world premiere of David Eddleman’s cycle Journey, sung ardently by soprano Amy Synatzske. These six jewels range in style from the folksy “Dialogue” to “Wild Nights,” which lives up to its name. “Middle Years” is an example of great musical story-telling. Here, Mr. Eddleman creates moods and colors that are almost palpable. The relentless ticking away of time marks “Into the Atmosphere,” on a sobering poem by Frank Daykin, the expert pianist for Ms. Synatzske. The romantic, flowing “Come to Me in the Silence of the Night” contrasts sharply with the dramatic final song, “New Directions.” This soundscape was so intense as to even affect temperature changes in the listener. Without question, David Eddleman has an ear for a great melody, something so deceptively simple, but so rare today.

The collection of songs by David Del Tredici started with the passionately hypnotic “In the Temple,” and the powerfully tragic “Matthew Shepard.” Baritone Timothy Hill sang both with clarity and conviction. Later, Michael Polscer offered “Children,” and the unexpectedly jazzy “A Good Cry.” David Del Tredici played his signature virtuosic piano parts expertly. Indeed, it is not enough to call these accompaniments, but rather “co-companiments,” for they rival the beauty of the vocal lines and could almost stand on their own as solo piano works. Amy Synatzske rounded out the Del Tredici songs nicely, ending with the concluding aria from Final Alice. In fact, all of the composer’s songs are aria-like in nature, as they seem to occupy a plane somewhat above mere song. There is something operatic about them; one even hears an implied orchestration in the piano parts. Is it that the music is so well-crafted as to conjure up an array of timbres and colors? Or is it that Del Tredici knows his own instrument so well that he can push the limits of the piano, making it do more than we expect it to? I suspect it is a combination of both.

Michael Polscer next presented a lovely bouquet of songs by David Eddleman. Among the highlights were the charming “How Many Times Must I Love Thee, Dear?” and the wryly ironic “Lending Out Books,” on a text by Hal Sirowitz, in attendance at the performance. Timothy Hill concluded the Eddleman set with his delightful “I Can’t Be Talkin’ of Love, Dear,” accompanied with grace and sensitivity by Lucy Yates.

The evening closed with songs by Tom Cipullo, sung by Timothy Hill and Amy Synatzske, respectively. Like his former teacher, Mr. Cipullo’s piano writing is consummate, and he plays with authority, musicality, and skill. The relentless “Subway” was performed with gusto, its Messiaen-like ending rippling out through time and space. The coquettish “Why I Wear My Hair Long” and the sharply witty “The Pocketbook” were a perfect finish to the night. Truly, this was an appealing and well-paced evening of song, by three composers who have every right to be called “Masters of Modern American Art Song.”