David Maslanka: The River of Time
Navona Records

The music of David Maslanka (1943-2017) is given remarkably expressive voice on this splendid recording by the Western Illinois University Wind Ensemble under conductor Mike Fansler's direction. If there's anything unfortunate about The River of Time, it's that the composer didn't live to hear how vividly the material has been brought to life by this collegiate ensemble. Two works are presented on the release, the first, O Earth, O Stars, fully credited to Maslanka and the second to him and his son, who was instrumental in bringing the title work, his father's tenth symphony, to completion. By Matthew's account, at the time of his dad's death, the first and half of the second of the four-movement work had been completed, with the remaining content either sketched out or in fragments. Before his death, David asked his son to finish the piece, knowing that his long experience working with his father would allow the work to be brought to a satisfying resolution.

Born in New Bedford, Massachusetts, David Maslanka led a full and richly rewarding life, artistic and otherwise. A graduate of Michigan State University who later served on the faculties of multiple New York universities, he composed more than 150 works, including fifty for wind ensemble, and had recordings of his music appear on Albany, Reference Recordings, Naxos, Navona, and other labels. A composer also as well as an in-demand clinician and educator, Matthew is considered the foremost authority on his father's music and was thus the one to naturally step in to finish his father's final symphony.

As credible as the title work is, it's the opening O Earth, O Stars that resonates most powerfully. Scored for flute, cello, and wind ensemble, the work progresses through six movements structurally united by three chorales strategically positioned at the beginning, middle, and end. A pastoral feel permeates much of the material, and folk elements likewise repeatedly emerge; consequently, O Earth, O Stars assumes a tapestry-like character, its parts gathering to form a stirring and oft poignant mosaic. The work benefits significantly from the heartfelt reading by the ensemble, whose members, including featured soloists John McMurtery (flute) and Moisés Molina (cello), execute the composer's material with sensitivity and attention to detail. Subtle references to other works occasionally surface—a seeming one to “America the Beautiful” here, nods to Bach there—but always charmingly so.

The opening “Chorale,” its graceful melody borrowed by Maslanka from J.S. Bach, emerges gently, blossoms dramatically, and then grows plaintive with Molina's solo statement. The cellist leads the ensemble in the forceful second movement, “You Are the Image of the Unending World,” until the insistent (and rather Glass-like) rhythmic thrust slows to grant McMurtery his first moment in the spotlight. Growing out of the chorale melody “Heilig, Heilig,” “Sanctus” is arguably the work's most moving part. Accompanied by nothing more than minimal piano chords, the sustained cry of Molina's cello is followed by joyful folk expressions by McMurtery, the elements establishing the feel of both a timeless meditation and exuberant dance. Boisterous and playful, the fourth part, “Dragons and Devils of the Heart,” provides an enthrallingly dramatic contrast to “Sanctus,” the combination of the two conveying the dynamic range encompassed by the work. O Earth, O Stars concludes its thirty-six-minute journey with a final chorale that caps the performance with majestic supplications.

The recording's second half is devoted to the symphonic title work, its intensely personal quality signified by movements named by the composer after his wife and by the son his deceased father. Similar to O Earth, O Stars, folk elements emerge at times to ground the material with humanism. The opening “Alison,” which Maslanka senior wrote as she was dying of an immune disorder in the spring of 2017, wends through numerous passages, some restrained and contemplative and others turbulent and grief-stricken. Remarkable writing distinguishes the ponderous second movement, “Mother and Boy Watching the River of Time,” with an early episode featuring solo flute and woodwinds segueing fluidly into one featuring euphonium.

The fifteen-minute “David” posed the greatest challenge to Matthew as it was the part that was least finished. Much as his father might have done, the son used a tune marked in the sketch as “The Song at the Heart of it All” as the foundation for the movement and the work as a whole. In classic symphonic fashion, the motif is voiced a number of times but in different ways, from comforting to anguished, the move signifying the emotional extremes experienced by someone wrestling with the deaths of a mother and father. And in a final gesture redolent of his dad's approach, the oboe part in the concluding “One Breath in Peace” draws from the Bach chorale “Jesu, der du meine Seele.” Designed to convey acceptance and the resolve to move forward after loss, the movement makes for a suitably stately finish to the symphony, especially when it closes with one last statement of the chorale.

Were a concertgoer unfamiliar with Maslanka's work to attend a performance featuring O Earth, O Stars, it would be easy to imagine the individual exiting the hall eager to be captivated again by the composer, to not only re-experience the beauty of the performed piece but to sample others he produced. One guesses that even a single exposure to O Earth, O Stars would be enough to rouse said listener's interest.

November 2019