Christopher Cerrone: The Air Suspended

While Moser's album in original form was too long, this tantalizing EP of recent pieces by Cerrone is all too brief at 22 minutes. The title piece (2019) is a commanding three-movement piano concerto, whose power belies its minimal forces, with only the Argus String Quartet and bassist Pat Swoboda backing up Shai Wosner, for whom the piece was written. Conceived for the close, sculptured acoustic of a recording, I can imagine it being thrilling in a concert hall as well. Also included is Why Was I Born Between Mirrors?, performed here by the Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble, who premiered it in 2019. The recording is a true product of the pandemic-era, however, with sessions taking place in six cities across two continents. But no matter, the final result is a deeply absorbing piece, with a narrative thrust that hints at the inspiration Cerrone took from Ben Lerner's Leaving The Atocha Station. The tale of how Cerrone improvised his way into the piece, locking flower-pot percussion jams onto a digital grid and then building from there, is nearly as gripping as the music. The Air Suspended may be short, but it packs an outsized punch.

— Jeremy Shatan, 1.02.2023

The esteemed composer Christopher Cerrone offers us 2 recent works, where his minimalist vision brings bass, piano and an ensemble to the works that takes inspiration from Ben Lerner.

The title track occupies the first half of the listen, where rumbling keys from Shai Wosner and Pat Swoboda very precise bass are accompanied by the Argus Quartet. A track that traces the raw and powerful nature of the weather, Wosner originally premiered the track in 2019, it’s a thrilling, emotive and strategically delicate 3 movements.

“Why Was I Born Between Mirrors?” finishes out the listen, and it hosts the Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble, who apply stirring strings, dreamy flute, well timed percussive sounds and atmospheric clarinet to the haunting keys.

As always, this body of work showcases Cerrone’s close attention to timbre and colorful tone, and the presence of acoustic instruments only enhances the appeal of the creative endeavor.

— Tom Haugen, 5.12.2023

The piano use is hyper-modern in the concerto by Christopher Cerrone that is offered by New Focus Recordings on a very short disc (running time of 22 minutes). The concerto was as thoroughly tailored to pianist Shai Wosner as Byrd’s works were to the early harpsichord. But because of the COVID-19 pandemic, performances of the then-new work were cancelled, leading to a CD in which the concerto is heard with Wosner on piano accompanied by the Argus Quartet and bassist Pat Swoboda. This is essentially a work of minimalism, filled with sustained notes and repetitive sounds. Its three movement titles are intended as evocative but are not connected especially clearly with the music: “From Ground to Cloud,” “Dissolving Margins,” and “Stutter, Like Rain.” Like many other contemporary composers, Cerrone (born 1984) seems to care as much about the literary and sociopolitical gloss of his music as about the music itself. The Air Suspended, as he calls this concerto, is supposed to connect not only to weather in general but also to climate-change concerns. It does not, at least in any reasonably clear way, but the intent to make the connection is an important element to keep in mind when listening to the piece. The basic sound of the work is not unusual for 21st-century music – indeed, the other piece on this disc sounds considerably more unusual. This is Why Was I Born Between Mirrors? Again, this is an intentionally evocative title, but only listeners firmly in the know about Cerrone and this work – or ones willing to research it – will understand that the piece is a response to a novel by Ben Lerner called Leaving the Atocha Station. Thus, as with many modern musical works tied to other art forms, this sextet requires listeners to learn its background and intentions rather than simply to listen to it and thus find out what Cerrone is trying to say. This, of course, seriously limits the likely audience for the piece – which is a bit of s shame, since the inclusion here of tuned flower pots and the use of a prepared rather than standard piano result in a sonic world that is worth experiencing, at least for the seven-minute duration of the music. Like many other contemporary composers, Cerrone creates his works carefully, but without any apparent interest in having them appeal to anybody beyond a core audience that is hungry for whatever the latest and most avant-garde pieces may be.

— Mark Estren, 12.22.2022

English Translation (via Google Translate)

No question of missing out on this new disc (even quite short, too short for my liking) by Christopher Cerrone, one of the most remarkable American composers of the moment. It's always a shock. Born in 1984, he accumulates prizes (for example the Pulitzer Price in 2014 already), writes incisive, dense, sparkling music. Listen to The Pieces that Fall to Earth (2019), The Arching Path (2021), you'll be galvanized!

The title of the album, also the title of the first piece in three movements, comes from the Four Quartets of T.S. Eliot, more precisely from the fourth, Little Gidding, second part:

Dust in the air suspended

Marks the place where a story ended

(Powder hanging in the air

Mark a finished story) Translation by Pierre Leyris

Each album of Christopher Cerrone is based on poetry (or more broadly poetic writings), pays homage to specific poems or texts. It is this density of poetic writing that we find in his music, this way of going straight to the point, of wanting to find “elementary things”, as he himself says of this disc: “My music emerges, he says, from an idea of the oldest music. I imagine prehistoric humans making music in caves. Sing, knock, listen to the resonance. The Air Suspended evokes the raw, elemental power of time, enveloping listeners in the violence of a storm."

The eponymous piece, in three movements, has indeed something of the savagery of an approaching storm. This quasi piano concerto begins with the piano pounding in the bass. The atmosphere is heavy, the strings of the Argus Quartet quiver, slide in lightning streaks. The first movement is titled "From Ground to Cloud", after a fragment of a poem by Ben Lerner (b. 1979, Kansas): "That movement from the ground to the cloud / Slowly breaking waves on plucked / Is lightning." Stunning introduction! The second movement, adagio if you will, "Dissolving Margins" takes its title from a passage in the book My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante (born in Naples in 1943) where it is about a thunderstorm which "was advancing across the sky, swallowing up all light, eroding the circumference of the moon's circle." The piano seems liquefied in the strange, rears up in a motionless crescendo, the strings crunching. A magnificent melody develops in leaping clusters in a sublime pointillist euphoria, then everything seems to fall back, as if absorbed by a dreamlike halo. "Stutter, like rain", title of the third movement, is taken from another passage of the same poem by Lerner: "If you would speak of love / Stutter, like rain, like Robert, be / Be unashamed” (If you were talking about love, / Stutter, like the rain, like Robert be / Be unashamed”) We find the leaping clusters of the previous movement, repeated in tight loops, punctuated by the expressive underlines of the strings. The piano brings order to this chaos, imposes an icy rigor, listens to the silence, becomes limpid splashes. The strings whip, the piano freezes in compact loops, here are the flashes and rumblings in the middle of the sky... Brilliant performance by pianist Shai Wosner, whom I discovered thanks to this disc.

How I like the title of the second piece: Why Was I Born between Mirrors? The title comes from Ben Lerner's Leaving the Atocha Station. In the closing paragraphs, Lerner references a poem by Federico Garcia Lorca in which a dying orange tree, unable to produce fruit, asks to be released from the torments of a barren future. For Cerrone, the title alludes to mirror opening and closing. Performed by the Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble (flute, clarinet, violin, cello, percussion and piano), the piece is very percussive, full of harmonic halos like... between mirrors! After a fairly lively start, strings and clarinet give a more restrained, mysterious atmosphere, we think we hear a music box and the piano intervenes, massive and overhanging, so much so that we have the impression this time of being between cliffs . A brief woody lull is hollowed out by dizziness, rustling, and the piece sets off again in a powerful cavalcade to bring us back to the beginning. Dazzling again!

A disc of great beauty, with radiant splendour.

French Original

Pas question de laisser passer ce nouveau disque (même assez court, trop court à mon gré) de Christopher Cerrone, un des plus remarquables compositeurs américains du moment. C'est à chaque fois un choc. Né en 1984, il accumule les prix (par exemple le Pulitzer Price en 2014 déjà), écrit une musique incisive, dense, étincelante. Écoutez The Pieces that Fall to Earth (2019), The Arching Path (2021), vous en sortirez galvanisés!

Le titre de l'album, titre aussi de la première pièce en trois mouvements, provient des Quatre Quatuors de T.S. Eliot, plus précisément du quatrième, Little Gidding, deuxième partie:

Dust in the air suspended

Marks the place where a story ended

(De la poudre en supens dans l'air

Marque une histoire terminée ) Traduction de Pierre Leyris

Chaque album de Christopher Cerrone est enté sur de la poésie (ou plus largement des écritures poétiques), rend hommage à des poésies ou textes précis. C'est cette densité de l'écriture poétique que l'on retrouve dans sa musique, cette manière d'aller droit à l'essentiel, de vouloir retrouver les « choses élémentaires », comme il le dit lui-même de ce disque : « Ma musique émerge, dit-il, d'une idée de la musique la plus ancienne. J'imagine des humains préhistoriques faisant de la musique dans des grottes. Chanter, frapper, écouter la résonance. The Air Suspended évoque la puissance brute et élémentaire du temps, enveloppant les auditeurs dans la violence d'une tempête. »

La pièce éponyme, en trois mouvements, a en effet quelque chose de la sauvagerie d'une tempête s'approchant. Ce quasi concerto pour piano commence avec le piano martelant dans les graves. L'atmosphère est lourde, les cordes du quatuor Argus frémissent, glissent en traînées fulgurantes. Le premier mouvement est titré " From Ground to Cloud", d'après un fragment d'un poème de Ben Lerner (né en 1979 dans le Kansas) : « Ce mouvement du sol au nuage / Des vagues se décomposant lentement sur des cordes pincées / Est la foudre ». Foudroyante entrée en matière ! Le second mouvement, adagio si l'on veut, "Dissolving Margins" tire son titre d'un passage du livre My Brilliant Frend (L'Amie prodigieuse) de Elena Ferrante (née à Naples en 1943) où il est question d'un orage qui « avançait dans le ciel, avalant toute lumière, érodant la circonférence du cercle de la lune ». Le piano semble liquéfié dans l'étrange, se cabre dans un crescendo immobile, les cordes crissantes. Une magnifique mélodie se développe en grappes bondissantes dans une euphorie pointilliste sublime, puis tout semble retomber, comme absorbé par un halo onirique. "Stutter, like rain" (Bégaiement, comme la pluie"), titre du troisième mouvement, est tiré d'un autre passage du même poème de Lerner : « If you would speak of love / Stutter, like rain, like Robert, be / Be unashamed » (Si vous parliez d'amour,/ Bégayez, comme la pluie, comme Robert soyez / Soyez sans honte »). On retrouve les grappes bondissantes du mouvement précédent, répétées en boucles serrées, ponctuées par les soulignements expressifs des cordes cinglantes. Le piano met de l'ordre dans ce chaos, impose une rigueur glacée, écoute le silence, devient éclaboussures limpides. Les cordes fouettent, le piano se fige en boucles compactes, voici les éclairs et grondements au milieu du ciel... Brillantissime prestation du pianiste Shai Wosner, que je découvre grâce à ce disque.

Comme j'aime le titre de la seconde pièce : Why Was I Born between Mirrors ? (Pourquoi sui-je né entre des miroirs ?) Le titre vient de Leaving the Atocha Station de Ben Lerner. Dans les derniers paragraphes, Lerner fait référence à un poème de Federico Garcia Lorca dans lequel un oranger mourant, incapable de produire des fruits, demande à être libéré des tourments d'un avenir stérile. Pour Cerrone, le titre fait allusion à l'ouverture et à la fermeture en miroir. Interprétée par le Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble (flûte, clarinette, violon, violoncelle, percussion et piano), la pièce est très percussive, pleine de halos harmoniques comme... entre des miroirs ! Après un début assez vif, cordes et clarinette donnent une atmosphère plus retenue, mystérieuse, on croit entendre une boîte à musique et le piano intervient, massif et surplombant, si bien qu'on a l'impression cette fois d'être entre des falaises. Une brève accalmie boisée se creuse de vertiges, de frôlements, et la pièce repart en puissante cavalcade pour nous ramener au début. Éblouissant, à nouveau !

Un disque de toute beauté, à la splendeur rayonnante.