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Eric Schorr: New York Pretending to be Paris Indicative of the care with which Eric Schorr crafted this wonderful collection of art songs is the manner by which he gathered the texts for the project. Rather than select pieces from his personal library, he hit the streets in search of contemporary poems and spent hours perusing texts in Manhattan and Cambridge bookshops and scanning august publications such as The New Yorker and The New Criterion. In choosing poems by Morri Creech, Richie Hofmann, Susan Kinsolving, Thomas March, Aaron Smith, and Cynthia Zarin, Schorr gravitated to ones that resonated personally, of course, but even more critically struck him as ones that in their imagery and rhythms would lend themselves effectively to musical treatments. Despite the diversity of their subject matter, thematic details having to do with memory and the longing for touch and intimacy connect them. In the thirteen songs, Schorr's lyrical style dovetails seamlessly with the yearning articulated movingly by the writers. New York Pretending to be Paris is Schorr's project, certainly, but it's also one distinguished by the contributions of others. Mezzo-soprano Eve Gigliotti, tenor Jesse Darden, and baritone Michael Kelly bring the songs vividly to life, and all are supported splendidly by pianists Cris Frisco, Erika Switzer, and Schorr himself. Special mention, however, must be made of The 19 Mercer Ensemble for its panoramic splendour and Nik Rodewald, whose orchestrations of the songs elevate them grandly. The songs sparkle under the guiding hand of producer Paul McKibbins. Adding to the recording's appeal is its stylistic breadth, which is attributable to two things in particular. First, the subject matter and emotional tenor of the songs called for a variety of approaches, and as such lyrical art songs and ebullient dance pieces sit comfortably side by side. Secondly, Schorr applied his experience in writing for music theatre to a number of songs, which extended the presentation into a broader realm than had it focused on the art song alone. Highlights? Too many to mention, so a handful must suffice, the four-part Flowers, based on poems by Zarin, for starters. The titular piece in the cycle enchants with a magnificent vocal by Gigliotti, an arrangement rich in timbre, and a provocative closing line, “I do not know how to hold all the beauty and sorrow of my life.” Contrast its dramatic, searching tone with the ecstatic rapture of “Monday Rhyme” (“I love you in the desert / I love you by the shore / My love for you is a windward ship / How could I ask for more?”) and the poetic resolution of its concluding song “Marina.” In Schorr's treatment of March's “Morning (After) Commute,” Darden's affecting in conveying the constellation of emotions the poem's protagonist experiences after a first encounter. March is also represented by “In the Apartment, After You've Gone,” this one given a smoky, saloon song-styled treatment that Gigliotti and the ensemble essay with conviction. Schorr's music for Hofmann's “French Novel” amplifies the romantic allure of a scene depicting young lovers reading books in bed and listening to piano music. In another ear-catching move, the composer chose to animate Smith's “Liquid” and its recounting of a fleeting yet memorable encounter with a breezy Bossa nova treatment (“The men of Cambridge jog shirtless this morning / Like it's normal to be beautiful and looked at”). While the text of Kinsolving's “Under House Arrest” startles for featuring disclosures by a mother not typically shared (“Now that my infant is almost an adult, I will admit how one midnight I lifted her tiny body out of the crib and carried it far into a field …”), the mother in “Remodeling” does something likewise unexpected in taking a sledgehammer to parts of her ‘50s suburban home, a sight recalled years later by the daughter (“At age ten I knew all parents' rooms were somehow divided …”). At album's end, “New York Pretending to Be Paris,” Smith's tribute to his mother, makes its mark by sweetening the singing of Darden and Gigliotti—the set's only vocal duet—with a light-footed waltz rhythm. Schorr's gift for tone painting is evident throughout—hear, for instance, the way the strings convulse as Darden sings “while the air-conditioner moan-groans outside your window” in “After All These Years” and how the music's languour matches the text of Smith's poem. Mention also must be made of percussionist Chip Fabrizi for the colourful flourishes he adds to many songs, though the contributions by the strings (Kristina Gitterman, David Blinn, Laura Bontrager), woodwinds (Anna Urrey, Keve Wilson, Damian Primis, Nikhil Bartolomeo), and other musicians are as deserving. In his songs, Schorr aspires to “respect the inherent rhythms and cadences of the written word; every syllable must be given its proper weight and be intelligible. Ideally, when listening, one should not have to look at the text of the poem to understand what is being sung.” Clarity of communication is paramount, and the musical choices should illuminate and reinforce the emotional character of the words. These writers' poems resonated with Schorr, but their portraits about courtship, a small town psychic, a harried mother and vengeful wife, and gay men longing for love and to belong—human stories infused with humanity, in other words—have the capacity to do the same for anyone with a beating heart.September 2022 |