Rami Levin: Wings
Acis

Wings could have been titled Portrait, considering how effectively it functions as an overview of composer Rami Levin's chamber output. The hour-long collection features seven appealing works distinguished by high levels of craft. A graduate of Yale and the universities of California and Chicago, Levin laid down strong roots in the latter city and accomplished much professionally during her time there, including serving as President of American Women Composers, Midwest between 1992 and 1993 and as Chair of the Department of Music at Lake Forest College from 1994 to 2005 (given her ties to the city, it's fitting that the album was recorded during 2023 at the University of Chicago's Logan Center for the Arts). She also has a strong connection to Brazil, where she taught and worked as a composer from 2010 to 2017 before returning to the United States and moving to West Hartford, Connecticut. Such a varied personal history finds its correlate in musical works that are imaginative, diverse, and in certain instances draw inspiration from the places she's been.

An apt illustration, the opening piece Asas (Wings) was written in Brazil, where Levin still spends several months a year. Scored for clarinet, violin, and piano, the 2015 work's parts are titled after, in her words, “the calls of two birds native to Brazil [that] I often hear while composing in my study in Rio de Janeiro,” one being the pretty bem-te-vi gracing the album cover. The material's brought vividly to life by clarinetist Barbara Drapcho (Music Institute of Chicago, Loyola University Chicago), violinist Mathias Tacke (founding member of Vermeer Quartet), and versatile pianist Kuang-Hao Huang. Whereas “Bem-te-vi” tickles the ear with bright calls, the material exuding a rather Stravinsky-like character in its sinuous elegance and lighthearted spirit, “Sabiá” alternates between serene and agitated episodes as it evokes the calls of many different birds at once. One's impression of Levin's material is naturally affected by the calibre of the performances, which are uniformly excellent. In addition to the three musicians just mentioned, the recording features classical guitarist Denis Azabagic, flautist Eugenia Moliner (Azabagic's partner in Duo Catavina), harpist Lillian Lau (University of Chicago Department of Music), violist Anthony Devroye (Avalon String Quartet), Quintet Attacca (Ensemble-in-Residence at the Music Institute of Chicago), and acclaimed soprano Alisa Jordheim.

After Asas (Wings), a solo Azabagic delivers a suitably forlorn rendering of Saudade (Longing) before the album makes a dramatic left turn with Três Canções (Three Songs), a delightful cycle featuring a Huang-accompanied Jordheim singing Portuguese texts written by the then-seven-year-old daughter of a now-deceased Brazilian friend of Levin's. The song titles alone convey the irreverent spirit of the work, which advances from “Os Macacos Brincalhões” (The Playful Monkeys) to “O Pequeno Barco” (The Little Boat) and “Porcos” (Pigs). Playful the songs might be, but Jordheim delivers the material with immense flair and feeling and Huang's performance is as stellar. The other cycle, Four English Songs, is a dramatically different affair, even if its treatment of traditional English nursery rhymes also emphasizes Levin's playful side. Accompanied by Moliner (flute), Lau (harp), and Azabagic (guitar), Jordheim gives resplendent voice to stirring renditions of “Sixpence,” “Apple Pie,” “Hey, Diddle Diddle,” and “The House That Jack Built.” It's easy to picture ten-year-olds as captivated as adults as the players make their merry way through the songs.

One of the album's more fascinating excursions is Línguas Fraternas (Fraternal Languages) for how it explores the rapprochement between different musical languages. With violist Devroye and pianist Huang as sparring partners, “Leste-Oeste” (East-West) juxtaposes two musical languages, Afghani music represented by viola and American culture by bluesy piano, and begins with each playing separately in its own idiom before the two converge, entwine, and, finally, blend. “Norte-Sul” (North-South) meditates on how the same thing might be said in different ways, such that the viola might play six notes in a three-three pattern while the piano does the same but as two-two-two.

August 2024