Dante in Siena: Inferno 15-20

Dante's Inferno: Canto 15 | Canto 16 | Canto 17 Canto 18 | Canto 19 | Canto 20 Other Images of Brunetto Latini: Bodleian Library, Holkham misc. 48 Guido da Pisa's commentary on Inferno John Flaxman Sandro Botticelli Featured Dante Link: Princeton Dante Project

It is often clear in the Commedia that Dante is writing on several levels simultaneously. A good example is in the seventh circle of Inferno, where Dante relates the punishment of the sodomites. Modern scholarship is not at all in agreement about exactly what is being punished here. The traditional interpretation is that these sinners are guilty of homosexuality, and the punishment of being burned seems to echo one of the common medieval punishments for homosexuals. Even so, Virgil is described as being among the pagans who did not sin, although Dante knew of Virgil's second eclogue, in which the shepherd Corydon burns with unrequited love for the beautiful boy Alexis.

In Canto 15, Dante speaks with his teacher, Brunetto Latini, as a representative of the literary and clerical sodomites. The context could be Dante's acknowledgment of at least his own temptation in the sometimes homosexual dynamic of teacher and student in his day. The shades appear as a band moving along the bank of the circle, as they may have done in the evening along the city wall of Florence. They look Dante and Virgil over with sharp eyes as they pass by, and that is when Brunetto recognizes Dante. Although the literary sodomites are punished harshly, Dante speaks with reverent respect to his old master, using the formal address of voi and calling him Ser Brunetto. Improbably for this conversation deep in Inferno, they fall easily into the pattern of teacher and pupil, with Brunetto calling Dante his dear little son ("O figliuol mio") and imparting advice about his literary career. Like an attentive student, Dante promises to take careful note of what Brunetto says, to be glossed later by Beatrice.

Dante speaks to Brunello Latini, engraving by Gustave Doré

Brunetto's main concern is his own literary fame, and that self-serving style of authorship seems to be what Dante is really condemning. As he runs off to join the pack of shades at the end of Canto 15, Brunetto commends his most famous book, the Lis Tresors, to Dante, saying that in it he still lives (nel qual io vivo ancora). Perhaps if Brunetto had not stored up all of his treasure in earthly things, Dante the poet says between the lines, if his writing had served a good greater than his own fame, he would not be here in the seventh circle. Dante is pursuing something greater and attaches himself faithfully to Virgil in Inferno, who wryly advises Dante to note carefully what Brunetto is saying about the search for literary fame. The theme of self-absorbed writing and reading returns with the figure of Geryon (Canto 17) and most explicitly with the tale of Ulysses (Canto 26).

After describing the habits of the intellectual sodomites, Dante continues with the aristocratic sodomites in Canto 16, where he speaks with three men who were great military leaders of Florence. At this point, Dante removes the cord around his waist and throws it down into the pit that opens up at the midpoint of Inferno. The only way that the journey can continue, Virgil knows, is for them to be carried down to Malebolge by the demonic Geryon (see as imagined by William Blake, Gustave Doré, and Sandro Botticelli). This is where Dante, designing the punishments for the fraudulent in ten little pockets (bolgias), is the most comically gross: the flatterers are submerged in shit, the successors of Simon Peter are inverted like the fallen Simon Magus, the diviners weep tears down their own butt cracks, and so on. Here especially, the more recent translations, which do not shy away prudishly from Dante's bathroom humor, are crucial to understanding the spirit of Inferno.

Ionarts in Siena: Roberto Benigni

On Sunday night, over 20,000 people (according to newspaper reports) sat down and stood together on the hallowed stones of Siena's Piazza del Campo, to listen to an inexhaustible fountain of words gush from the mouth of Roberto Benigni. If you remember when the Italian comedian and actor accepted an Oscar for La Vita è Bella (on YouTube, if you do not), it was just like that, but in Italian. Actually, he had come to Siena, he said, to speak to the Sienese "Tuscan to Tuscan," and much of his frantic act, over two hours long and free to the public through the generosity of the Monte dei Paschi bank, was heavily accented with dialect-specific language. Add to that my general ignorance of the latest Italian political imbroglios -- a lot of it flew by without my comprehension. In any case, one had the unmistakable sense of being present for an extraordinary event: local opinion confirmed that the Campo had not been that full, excepting the Palio, for a very long time.

What could be understood was Benigni's praise for Siena and its beautiful main square, so full of people that we could see them standing cheek to jowl up all the streets leading into it. He even mentioned the Battle of Montaperti, a famous Sienese victory over Florence, which got a round of applause. If he had quoted Dante's famous line about the blood from that battle staining the Arbia red, he would have brought the house down. Benigni finally introduced his proclaimed subject -- Tutto Dante -- with an enthusiastic championing of Italian cultural heritage, by reciting the artistic and musical terms Italy has given the world, like sonnetto, adagio, opera, and many, many more. It was a wild lead-in to an informed, if slightly unorthodox analysis of Dante's Inferno, and particularly the Paolo and Francesca episode in Canto 5.

Roberto Benigni, Tutto Dante (July 15, 2007)
Piazza del Campo, Siena (view other videos of Benigni in Siena)
Benigni missed an opportunity to connect his own political humor with Dante's skewering of political figures of his own time. At other presentations of this show, Benigni has reportedly recited from Inferno 10, as well as parts of Purgatorio and Paradiso, but in Siena he had time only for Inferno 5. You can imagine the scene, as a huge assembly listened raptly while Benigni explained Dante's poem, leading us through the crisis in the dark wood, the meeting with Virgil, the entrance to and upper parts of hell. Understanding the punishment of the Neutrals -- those who are neither virtuous nor evil, who simply sit on the fence and do nothing -- was easy, Benigni said: God hates indifference. As for Paolo and Francesca, they are punished lightly, Benigni believes, because God pities their kind of passionate love, which he likened to the love God felt for La Madonna. Putting aside that strange reading, it was spellbinding to watch the temporary stage become glowing red, as Benigni recited Canto 5 from memory. It was a beautiful and emotional reading, which I followed in my Durling and Martinez edition line for line.


Roberto Benigni, Tutto Dante (recitation of Inferno 5)
Pesaro, 2006
The schedule of Roberto Benigni's Tutto Dante tour this summer continues through September 13 in cities around Italy. Tonight, he will be in Grosseto's baseball stadium (July 18), followed by appearances in Florence (the Piazzale Michelangelo, July 20) and Pisa (the Piazza dei Cavalieri, July 22). The latter will be in front of the Torre del Fame, where Conte Ugolino della Gherardesca was imprisoned and killed by starvation, as he explains to Dante in a celebrated passage in Inferno 33. That may probably come up in Pisa, although Benigni could have mentioned any number of embarrassing references to Siena that Dante made in the Commedia. Benigni chose not to do that.

Ionarts in Siena: Good and Bad Government

Ambrogio Lorenzetti, Fresco of Good Government, 1337-39
Sala dei Nove, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena
We spent an afternoon in the Palazzo Pubblico (where Simone Martini's Maestà is found), mostly to look at the spectacular frescos depicting good and bad government by Ambrogio Lorenzetti. The Sienese master painted the three walls of the Sala dei Nove, where the nine members of the city's executive council met, from 1338 to 1340. The wall over the entrance of the Nine shows an allegory of good government, with the enthroned figure of Ben Comune (Good Government) reigning among the virtues and with justice and concord binding together the citizens. Then on opposing walls are views of Siena, one imagining the city suffering the results of bad government and the other showing Siena prospering and happy under the effects of good government. These frescos were made shortly after Dante had lived in Siena, where on a trip back from his fatal embassy to Rome, he learned that his rival party had exiled him from his beloved Florence. The concept of ben comune is very much present in the Commedia, in which the forces of intraurban factionalism are condemned.

My favorite details are the signs that Siena is prospering when the citizenry and government together keep Ben Comune on his seat. Crops are planted and harvested, products are brought into the city, workmen climb on scaffolding to repair a building, students in a classroom listen obediently to their teacher, and all vital needs are obviously met. What makes the difference is the little things that we take for granted when our home is prosperous and safe: pets and plants are seen in windows, women dance in a graceful circle in the street, men go out to the country to hunt, and life's pleasures are assured. On the street into the city, there is even an image of a poor man begging, with his hat in his hand. Only with prosperity is charity possible, after all.

The Bad Government side has been badly damaged, because the city government kept its salt stores (salt used to be a state monopoly) in the room underneath. Salt was piled up against the same wall, and mixed with moisture it seeped up through the wall by capillary action and destroyed large parts of the fresco. In a sense, Lorenzetti's Bad Government and Dante's Inferno have a lot in common as criticisms of the forces of party division that undermine Ben Comune.

Ionarts in Siena: Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia

The 64th Settimana Musicale Senese came to a close on Saturday night in Siena's Chiesa di Sant'Agostino. Conductor Antonio Pappano led the orchestra of the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia in a program that combined two rather different halves in a challenging and satisfying concert. The first half was devoted to a landmark of the late 20th century, Luciano Berio's chimeric Sinfonia for eight voices and orchestra. Composed in several stages from 1967 to 1969, this piece is in one sense a recapitulation and analysis of the symphonic genre; at the same time, Berio refracted his main source, Gustav Mahler's second symphony, through a kaleidoscopic prism of modernist literature, other musical classics (Bach, Beethoven, Strauss, other Mahler, etc.), anthropology, and the turbulent current events of the late 1960s. The eight vocal parts were performed here by the the latest incarnation of the Swingle Singers, for whom the piece was created and who sang under Leonard Bernstein in the premiere performance, in honor of the 125th anniversary of the New York Philharmonic in 1968.

64th Settimana Musicale Senese: Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia (July 14) Concerto Italiano, Monteverdi's Orfeo (July 11) Cappella della Pietà de' Turchini (July 10) Fabio Vacchi, La Madre del Mostro (July 8)

The eight singers, the piano, and other instruments were picked up by microphones, which created the appearance of an electronic production, reminiscent of musique concrète. The Swingle Singers mostly created glistening dissonant chords in close harmonic arrangements or added to the chaotic effects of the orchestra by whispering or shouting. The first tenor -- the part sung by Ward Swingle, the group's founder -- recited most of the narration, drawn from Claude-Lévi Strauss's Le cru et le cuit, a study of Brazilian traditional mythology relating to the origin of water, and Samuel Beckett's L'Innommable. From the third movement on, there is also English commentary on the experience of listening to Sinfonia -- "it's a compulsory show," "perhaps it is a recitation, someone reciting selected passages," and "waiting for it to start -- that is the show."

The postmodern attitude, deconstructing the work and the listener's possible experiences of it, is made specific with references to the citations of the Resurrection symphony ("there was even for a moment a chance of resurrection") and with the words directed to the conductor at the close of the fourth movement ("Thank you, Mr. Antonio Pappano"). It could be characterized as the dialogue of voices inside a puzzled listener's head or like a berserk color commentary on the action. For all of its thorny problems of interpretation, the piece received a sensitive and vibrant performance in Pappano's hands, in spite of the size and awkward placement of the orchestra (part of the ensemble had to be seated off the stage in front of the audience). Some listeners may not find connecting with Sinfonia easy, however -- my concert companion was reviled with a passion both intellectual and visceral. To sweeten the taste, the Swingles gave two delicious encores: a jazzy arrangement of Bella ciao ("Una mattina mi son svegliato"), a famous post-WWII song, and a rather silly arrangement of Mozart's Rondo alla Turca.

Perugino (Pietro Vannucci), Crucifixion, Chiesa di Sant'Agostino, Siena

The second half was devoted to another work that had a long genesis, Rossini's Stabat mater dolorosa, completed in two major periods. If anything, the overall polish of this performance may have suffered ever so slightly in rehearsal time because of the complexity of the Berio. Although there were some moments lacking true unity among the extensive forces, it was a very satisfying performance. The Coro dell'Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia was excellent, a large chorus that maintained a good control of soft dynamics and was impressively unified in intonation, attack, and diction, for which Maestro del Coro Norbert Balatsch took a much-deserved bow. Soprano Emma Bell and mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato were an appropriately matched pair in their Duetto ("Quis est homo"), with the thick, duskier hue of the soprano voice tending toward the mezzo sound. DiDonato showed her mastery in the gorgeous Cavatina, with impressive control of soft dynamics, nicely followed by the orchestra, and breath support on those long notes.

Bass Ildar Abdrazakov was resonant and suave in his Aria ("Pro peccatis suae gentis") and the startling recitative dialogue with the chorus ("Eja, Mater, fons amoris"), a performance that makes me keen to hear his Don Giovanni with Washington National Opera next season. One can only congratulate and thank tenor Colin Lee, who stepped in to replace the indisposed Lawrence Brownlee. The Santa Cecilia orchestra again played well, with meaty brass in the Duetto, plaintive solo oboe lines, and an exciting "Inflammatus et accensus" movement, complete with revelatory trumpets for the sounds of the Last Judgment. A nice musicological touch came in the celebrated Quartetto movement, in which Ms. Bell sang a small modification of her part, notated in the score of Clara Novello at an early performance of the Stabat mater in Bologna. Although Donizetti conducted that performance, Rossini oversaw it and, moved by Ms. Novello's singing, added a little gilding to the lily. As described in the excellent essay by Guido Burchi in the program, Novello's score is now in the Fondo Gigliucci of the Accademia Musicale Chigiana's library in Siena.

Concerts continue throughout August, in Siena and nearby towns, in the 76th Estate Musicale Chigiana, including performances by violinist Giuliano Carmignola (July 21), harpsichordist Christophe Rousset (August 1), cellist Antonio Meneses (August 3), and pianist Maurizio Pollini (August 12). Reviews will be forthcoming until Ionarts is constrained to leave Italy.

Ionarts in Siena: Concerto Italiano's Orfeo

Rinaldo Alessandrini, conductor

Michael recently reviewed the staging of Claudio Monteverdi's Orfeo at the Festival d'Aix-en-Provence, and you can also read my review of a recent DVD version. In honor of the 400th anniversary of the birth of opera as we know it, we are not done with Monteverdi's first opera, first performed in the Palazzo Ducale in Mantua on February 24, 1607. On Wednesday night, Rinaldo Alessandrini led a remarkable concert performance of Orfeo, as part of the 64th Settimana Musicale Senese, in Siena's Chiesa di Sant'Agostino. Even considering all of the good music I have heard so far in Italy, as well as what still remains, this event was in many ways the keenly anticipated acme of my reviewing schedule. Alessandrini and his group, Concerto Italiano, whose recordings of Vivaldi's Four Seasons and Monteverdi's madrigals (Book 6 and Book 8) have been warmly recommended listening at Ionarts, did not disappoint.

Those recordings prepared me to expect Alessandrini to put his distinctive mark on Monteverdi's classic score, and the results made me hope that Concerto Italiano will record this opera soon. First of all, the casting ranged from very good to extraordinary. At the top of the list was contralto Sara Mingardo, who lent her steely stage presence and reedy, unusual voice to the roles of the messenger (who announces the news of Euridice's death) and La Speranza (who accompanies Orfeo to the gate of hell, where he must obey Dante's inscription and abandon her). She arrested all attention as soon as she took the stage, in a tunic-like soft pink gown, gliding slowly and standing with poise like a Greek statue of Aphrodite.

With an equally attractive voice but lower dramatic wattage, tenor Furio Zanasi was a potent and suave Orfeo. His rendition of the celebrated serenade of Charon ("Possente spirto") was heart-meltingly beautiful, especially as accompanied by different combinations of instruments, including a lovely section for harpist Loredana Gintoli. Monica Piccinini was a lyrical Musica in the prologue and made significant contributions in the excellent choruses of nymphs and shepherds (with impressive swells of sound in the striking "Ahi caso acerbo!"). Anna Simboli was subtle and luscious as Euridice and Proserpina. Among the men, bass Sergio Foresti stood out as a terrifying and resonant Caronte, with projection that sliced nicely through the thick accompaniment of trombones and regale. Antonio Abete was not quite as strong but still fine as Plutone, and tenor Luca Dordolo was appropriately celestial as Apollo in the astrological duet that follows Orfeo's echo aria in the fifth act.

64th Settimana Musicale Senese: Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia (July 14) Cappella della Pietà de' Turchini (July 10) Fabio Vacchi, La Madre del Mostro (July 8)

As you might expect from listening to Alessandrini's recordings, he conducts with exciting verve. When not accompanying recitatives or playing on either the portative organ or the harpsichord stacked on top of it, he lunged toward the singers or instrumentalists, indicating with his agitated dancing or gentle gestures the musical spirit he wanted to create. (Some of that energy seemed to be directed at the middle strings, who were perpetually a hair behind Alessandrini's beat, and one of whom broke a string in the second act.) Even for someone familiar with the score, Alessandrini's direction regularly surprised, from the shockingly florid embellishments (by the awe-inspiring cornetti, played by Doron Sherwin and Fiona Russell, in the famous opening toccata or by singers, as in La Musica's strophic prologue) to the sometimes unusual choice of tempo (a very fast opening ritornello to "Io la Musica son," for example, and unexpectedly languid sections in "Lasciate i monti"). As noted of Concerto Italiano's recordings, the group has put down a claim on Italy's first Baroque composer of genius with its exciting performances and the singers' native and exquisite pronunciation of these poetic texts.

After a short trip to Rome, Ionarts was back in Siena last night for the conclusion of the 64th Settimana Musicale Senese. Associated concerts continue throughout August, in Siena and nearby towns, in the 76th Estate Musicale Chigiana, including performances by violinist Giuliano Carmignola (July 21), harpsichordist Christophe Rousset (August 1), cellist Antonio Meneses (August 3), and pianist Maurizio Pollini (August 12).

And the Winner Is? Tony Shore!

Artscape is in the air. Baltimore’s annual three-day celebration of its art and culture and, of course, food got started Friday evening with the awarding of the 2nd annual $25,000 Janet and Walter Sondheim Prize. It was a beautiful night in Baltimore, all the better to be surrounded by the artists, museum and cultural groups, and the fabulous staff of the Mayor's arts council, which organized this event. Baltimore should be proud of the incredible art being made here and the latest addition to the mix, the Sondheim prize, was awarded to painter Tony Shore.

A surprised and humble Shore tearfully accepted his award, and by the end of his talk I think everyone was also a bit emotional. The prize went to a deserving artist, but it was a very difficult choice. This is the first time I had the opportunity to see Snow’s acrylic on velvet paintings: yes, you read that correctly, acrylic on velvet. I knew of his work but in the back of my mind I always thought, ehh, gimmick. Surprise! The medium is a perfect fit for his subject matter, the working class Baltimore neighborhood he grew up in, affectionately called Pig Town, and the life of its community, mostly centered around his main muse, his father.

What Shore does is take a material (velvet) and a synthetic pigment (acrylic) and elevate a harsh working-class theme to a mythic level. In the high-ceilinged gallery of the Baltimore Museum of Art, these large paintings take on the grandeur of Rembrandt as Shore skillfully allows the black velvet material to play a proud supporting role illuminating some pretty somber imagery. Think also of Millet’s imagery of poor villagers or Van Gogh's Potato Eaters. Enjoy the money, Tony: congratulations!

Other finalists of note were Rick Cleaver's fabulous, sculpted figurative assemblages of clay, wood, beads, and lots of gold leaf. I’ve mentioned his work here before, and the installation of his work in the gallery was very impressive. Eric Dyer’s complex, spinning, live video inventions were a finalist for the Sondheim last year also. His Bellows March was as impressive and a joy to watch and try to figure out just how he does it.

Baby Martinez documents, in photos and text, events that make you say out loud in the gallery, “Wow, what a great idea!” One example, with a portion of money made from art sales: he put $20 bills into the pockets of pants at a thrift store. Whoever bought the garment would have a wonderful surprise when they put their hands into the pockets for the first time. Or the ragged sign in front of a neighborhood grocery he stole one night and returned it, sanded and repainted: simple, straight up, wonderful.

Baltimore's mayor, Sheila Dixon, started the evening off with the announcement of a new $1 million Creative Baltimore Fund, aimed at nonprofit arts organizations with a focus on children and teens. OK, keep that up, Madame Mayor, and you have my vote.

See my Flickr site for more images of the exhibit. I’ll post more about next weekend's Artscape Festival this week.

Ionarts in Siena: Cappella della Pietà de' Turchini

Antonio Florio, conductor

On Tuesday night, it was back to a half-filled Teatro dei Rozzi in Siena, for a performance by the Cappella della Pietà de' Turchini. The group, led by cellist and musicologist Antonio Florio, specializes in Neapolitan music of the 17th and 18th centuries. To create this divertimento semi-scenico, called La follia e il gioco, Florio combined four cantatas or intermezzi, two on the theme of madness and two on the theme of games, all semi-staged by Giuseppe De Vittorio. While the results were all entertaining and comic, some of the pieces were more pleasing musically than others.

Of the two cantatas featuring featuring the character of La Pazzia (Madness), Barbara Strozzi's La pazzia venuta da Venezia ("L'astratto") was the stronger work, accompanied simply by continuo. Strozzi, one of the relatively few great female composers, was the superior melodic and dramatic craftsman. After a slightly rough start with some minor intonation problems, soprano Maria Grazia Schiavo gave a fine performance combining sections of agitated runs and others of arching legato lines. Before that "Venetian" Madness, Pietro Antonio Giramo, a composer from a generation before Strozzi, presented the Neapolitan Madness, in La pazzia venuta da Napoli. Soprano Maria Ercolano gave an edgy, grainy-voiced rendition that was strong in affective contrasts, with lead violinist Alessandro Ciccolini's capable solo part.

64th Settimana Musicale Senese: Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia (July 14) Concerto Italiano, Monteverdi's Orfeo (July 11) Cappella della Pietà de' Turchini (July 10) Fabio Vacchi, La Madre del Mostro (July 8)

The first part of the Game section was devoted to the game of dress-up (Il gioco dei travestimenti). Giuseppe Petrini's intermezzo buffo Graziello e Nella featured Ercolano in the male role and character tenor Giuseppe De Vittorio in the female, complete with snaps of a sassy red fan and pronounced Neapolitan dialect. After intermission, the most extended work was the climax of the evening, Antonio Caldara's Il gioco del quadriglio. This is a rather silly cantata about four friends playing a card game (featuring all three singers heard previously, including De Vittorio camping it up again as Ottavia), with one aria for each part spread out through intervening recitatives. We heard the largest and most beautiful voice, soprano Valentina Varriale, only in this work, and her rendition of Livia's delightful aria "Che giuoco felice" (with a sweet traverso part played by Tommaso Rossi) made me want more.

Florio conducted only beginning with the Petrini piece, for the full body of strings (eight players). The complete ensemble, including recorder, played for the Caldara, with fine results. Particularly good was "Ah, se toccasse a me" in the Caldara, with its two competing theorbo parts. (Both theorbists also play for Concerto Italiano, and that group's conductor, Rinaldo Alessandrini, was seated a couple rows in front of me.) Florio brilliantly interpolated movements from a couple of Caldara's sonatas for strings (op. 2), which provided an attractive relief from the singing. A spicy Fandango, complete with castanets, served as encore to a pleasing concert.

Just as we came out of the Teatro dei Rozzi, a contingent from the Oca neighborhood of Siena paraded down the street with their Palio (from the July race). They proceeded to the Piazza del Campo and, of course, right to the street that leads into the Torre neighborhood, their great enemy, to offer a midnight serenade of insults. Later that night, while working on reviews, I watched a filmed conversation between Christian Schlingensief and Christian Thielemann, in German, with French subtitles, in Italy. This is the life.

The 64th Settimana Musicale Senese concludes tonight in Siena. Associated concerts continue throughout August, in Siena and nearby towns, in the 76th Estate Musicale Chigiana, including performances by violinist Giuliano Carmignola (July 21), harpsichordist Christophe Rousset (August 1), cellist Antonio Meneses (August 3), and pianist Maurizio Pollini (August 12).

Ionarts in Provence: Ensemble Intercontemporain

The Ensemble intercontemporain’s sole appearance at the Festival d’Aix-en-Provence was not to be missed. Founded in 1976 by Pierre Boulez and funded by the French Ministry of Culture, the Ensemble has been a leading exponent of music of the 20th century and later. Susanna Mälkki, the Finnish Music Director of the Ensemble, conducted the performance of the works of Luca Francesconi (1956-), Luciano Berio (1925-2003), and Ivan Fedele (1953-) at the Théâtre du Jeu de Paume.

The opening work, Francesconi’s Da capo for 9 instruments (1985-86) began with quiet flutters by clarinet and flute that were soon expanded by all. Eventually the music was flying, colorfully shooting everywhere. The technically flawless frenzy of vibraphone, harp, piano, flute/piccolo, clarinet, bassoon, and string trio caused an appropriate snapping sound of a broken harp string. Da capo was clearly the least percussive piece on the program, which seems like a rarity in contemporary classical music; yet, it had the strongest rhythm.

Berio’s O King (1967) is an homage to Martin Luther King, Jr., and consists of soft, long notes that are interspersed with strong accents that increasingly become a point of interest. Fedele’s Chord (1986) began with sharp pizzicato notes and muted French horns. The instruments – two French horns, two clarinets, violin, cello, vibraphone, and harp – were barely used in their normal function, except for the two clarinets that softly imitated each other near the end. Francesconi’s A Fuoco, 4e studio sulla memoria for guitar and ensemble (1995) featured guitarist Pablo Márquez and created an intense atmosphere with a slow, steady beat sustained by alternating single notes from different ensemble members. This was among the occasional cello scraping, key shaking of the bass clarinet, and placing of a violin bow down a marimba tube for percussive effect.

Mezzo-soprano Loré Lixenberg was featured in Berio’s Circles for voice, harp, and two percussionists (1960), a work in three parts involving three poems by E. E. Cummings. With the text distorted and mostly in slow motion, Lixenberg was in a different position on the stage for each section and often joined in the percussion herself with woodblocks, etc. Performed without conductor, Lixenberg, often finding her pitch with a tuning fork, did an admirable job leading this complex work. Fedele’s Richiamo for brass, percussion, and electronic synthesizer (1994) concluded the program and did the most to manipulate the audiences’ sense of time. This extension of time was helped by the ethereal timbres of the percussion and electronic synthesizer.

Susanna Mälkki’s sober conducting consisted solely of clear beat patterns and cues. It will be fascinating to see where she leads the Ensemble in her tenure – hopefully to Washington, D.C.!