Ned Rorem, the teacher/mentor
of Jennifer Higdon says: ‘If I had to
name twelve important American composers
today, four of them would be women -
and Jennifer Higdon is the best of them.’
High praise for this Atlanta-born but
Philadelphia-based musician.
Her instrument is the
flute and, on the evidence of this disc,
she thinks in terms of melody and colour
rather than thematic interplay. This
much is confirmed by the vaunting and
leaping exuberance of the first movement
of her Concerto for Orchestra, a work
premiered in Philadelphia where she
is on the Faculty of the Curtis Institute.
The five movement piece was commissioned
for the Philadelphia Orchestra’s centennial
in 2002. She seems most at ease where
the music is rhythmically active. Voluptuous
activity is tempered with polyphonic
restraint. Unlike Messiaen she does
not pile on orchestral lines ad infinitum.
As a result her writing achieves richness
without muddying clarity. She writes
in a tonal language allied to that of
Bartók and early-mid Tippett.
There are none of the wilder extremes
of Penderecki still less of the fractioning
processes of George Crumb - another
of her teachers. That said, there is
a Crumb-like passage in the delicate
web at the start of both the third and
fourth movements. The long third movement
- a keystone to the rest of the arched
structure - is meditative, prayerful,
sorrow hinted at not indulged. It develops
momentum, wings and uproar - for a few
moments pounding out an insistent rhythm
typical of William Schuman and then
fading down to a light-suffused Tippett-like
meditation. From this yearning sunrise
emerges a tramping rhythmic passage
of a monolithic Harris-like power. Not
once does Higdon let go of a sense of
forward movement. The percussion-dominated
fragmentation of the fourth movement
failed to convince me but the return
of the tumbling and turning activity
of the finale returns us to magnetic
north. It is satisfyingly exciting evincing
a rhythmic flair seemingly learnt from
Harris and Schuman.
Higdon's Cityscape
is in three movements: Skyline;
River sings a song to trees;
Peachtree Street. Though born
in Brooklyn, the first ten years of
her life were spent in Atlanta. City
Scape and Peachtree Street are
full of rhythmic life like an American
echo of Petrushka with infusions
of the dynamic Copland (El Salon
Mexico). Skyline raises expectations
of the dynamic virility of the John
Williams score for the opening titles
of Towering Inferno. I wondered
whether Mr Spano took this movement
at quite the speed it should go. I felt
the music wanted to accelerate to the
headlong rate that Bernstein might have
given it. I am sure that the City of
Atlanta has an even greater power than
this. Or perhaps I have missed the point.
The second movement, the longest of
the three at 17.39 shivers and shimmers
amid the greenery and blossom of the
Atlanta linear parks. It is to Higdon's
great credit that this movement achieves
such beauty transcending the concrete
and brick boundaries that hem in the
subject of her inspiration. The majesty
of the natural world in the city rises
in a coursing and completely confident
wave of greenery and unrepentant life.
The Peachtree Street movement
is about dynamism and life again.
These are world premiere
recordings.
This is an SACD but
I have only reviewed the standard non-SACD
tracks of this disc.
Higdon’s music is well
worth encountering. Look out for the
next CD of her music.
Rob Barnett
Atlanta Symphony Orchestra/Robert Spano 
