New Thread Quartet's second New Focus release, Saxifraga, highlights the fragile end of the saxophone's sonic palette. Works by Scott Wollschleger and Victoria Cheah excavate delicate subtleties of multiphonics, tuning discrepancies, and non-pitched sounds to draw the listener in beyond the expected, while Amy Beth Kirsten's avalanche lily uses the quartet's expressive range to paint vivid character portraits in sound.
# | Audio | Title/Composer(s) | Time |
---|---|---|---|
Total Time | 59:00 | ||
01 | Without World | Without World | 16:20 |
avalanche lilyAmy Beth Kirsten |
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02 | I. saxifraga | I. saxifraga | 5:55 |
03 | II. tree monks / III. pipsissewa | II. tree monks / III. pipsissewa | 6:57 |
04 | IV. toward the rubicon / V. marcescence | IV. toward the rubicon / V. marcescence | 9:27 |
05 | Walk for a shell | Walk for a shell | 20:21 |
New Thread Quartet’s newest release, Saxifraga, focuses on the fragility of intimate timbres, the depth of nuance in subtle pitch discrepancies, and the rich source of creative inspiration that can be found in the natural world. Works by Scott Wollschleger, Amy Beth Kirsten, and Victoria Cheah take advantage of the rich and unique sound world of the saxophone ensemble to draw the listener inward. New Thread has been active for eleven seasons and this recording was produced over seven of them, chronicling the flexibility and creativity of the ensemble and the contributions of former and current members. New Thread performs these works with sensitivity and diligence, building on their portfolio of deep advocacy for avant-garde saxophone quartet repertoire of the highest quality.
Scott Wollschleger’s music often endeavors to create its own sonic realm. Without World (2016) is consistent with that aim, imagining a “musical landscape that is without the human idea of ‘worlds.’” To extract the “human” presence from the work, Wollschleger eschews foregrounded melodic, thematic, and harmonic material, instead drawing our attention to sounds that are delicate, fragile, and often part of the fabric of a musical gestalt instead of out in front of it. The care with which Wollschleger approaches the detailed whispers, pops, multiphonics, obscured pitches, and breath sounds builds a magical, rarefied musical argument across sixteen and half minutes. After a luminous chorale built from the resultant overtones of multiphonics, the piece ends with its most driven material, a tightly coordinated rhythmic machine of non-pitched punctuations surrounding a short descending motive that repeats as it rises in register, like slipping off the rungs of a ladder while simultaneously climbing.
Read MoreAmy Beth Kirsten’s avalanche lily (2019) is a musical portrait of the Wyoming countryside, with two of the movements and the work’s title (“saxifraga”, “pipsissewa”, and avalanche lily) named after regional wildflowers. The opening movement, “saxifraga,” is driving and bluesy, with expressive bends and cries of ascending minor thirds. Kirsten develops the texture through a unison duo passage of syncopated figures in the low saxes that is interrupted by pops, shrieks, and squeals in the high saxes. The shrieks coalesce into a brief chorale, before the angular low sax figures support cool, sustained lines that lead to a rousing climax, recalling the opening material. Movements two and three (“tree monks” and “pipsissewa”) are compressed into one track to facilitate an attacca transition between the two. “tree monks” opens with a heaving, alternating mantra, with high register commentary that smears between pitches across its contour and intones unsettling high sustained squeals. An easy lament emerges as a melodic bridge to “pipsissewa,” which opens with pointillistic attacks passed through the quartet, over a haunting, sustained multiphonic.
“toward the rubicon” and “marcescence” are similarly combined into one track, the first beginning with a texture of fragile multiphonics and sustains that build a composite melodic line between them. The movement beautifully captures a sense of wonder at the vastness beyond the threshold of our understanding of the natural world. “marcescence” is a process of preserving nutrients that allows some trees to keep their leaves during the winter. This final movement is filled with burgeoning energy and vitality, as internal imitation within the ensemble creates a series of interactive dialogues and a prismatic profile. A poignant melodic line emerges from the intricately woven interplay, leading the piece towards a section of increased urgency featuring swells that culminate in two note accented punctuations. A climactic series of chords with an ascending top line gives way to a fragile, creaky end, with the soprano saxophone echoing the bent notes from the opening movement as another member of the ensemble offers blithe commentary.
Victoria Cheah’s Walk for a shell is characteristic of works of hers that evolve patiently, using a slow pace of movement to frame a microscopic examination of pitch and timbre. Inspired by the pitch discrepancy between phone dial tones in the US and UK (one at 425 hz and the other at 450 hz), Cheah curates the beatings between closely spaced frequencies so that they reveal resultant rhythmic activity in the ensemble. Cheah sees the work as a kind of a “pilgrimage,” wherein the meditation on these distilled sonic elements brings the listener to a different place of awareness upon the work’s completion. Dynamics play a particularly important role in Walk for a shell, as the continuum of entrances and sustains, from soft to loud, establishes a three dimensional texture that shapes the shade of the overall blended sound as well as a structural hierarchy.
– Dan Lippel
Geoffrey Landman, soprano saxophone (track 1)
Jonathan Hulting-Cohen, soprano saxophone (tracks 2-5)
Kristen McKeon, alto saxophone (tracks 1-4)
Noa Even, alto saxophone (track 5)
Erin Rogers, tenor saxophone
Zach Herchen, baritone saxophone
Recorded by Jeremy Tressler at Dreamflower, New York, NY
Editing, Mixing, Mastering by Zach Herchen
Artwork by Oscar H. Gresh
Graphic design by Jason Warriner
New Thread Quartet was formed with the mission to develop and perform impactful new music for the saxophone, and to provide high level ensemble playing to feature today’s compositional voices. In 5 seasons, the quartet has commissioned and premiered over 20 new works by composers such as Richard Carrick, Ben Hjertmann, Scott Wollschleger, and Kathryn Salfelder, with recent commissions from Max Grafe and Taylor Brook as part of its annual Explorations concert series. Based in New York City, NTQ has performed at Carnegie Hall, Roulette, Dance Theatre of Harlem, the Bang on a Can Summer Festival Benefit, Monadnock Music, and the World Saxophone Congress in St. Andrews, Scotland, and has performed or recorded more than 30 important works for saxophone quartet including Kati Agócs’ Hymn on New England Conservatory’s Composer Series at Jordan Hall, a revival of Michael Djupstrom’s 2001 work Test at Arizona State University’s Katzin Concert Hall, and the premiere recording of Elliott Sharp’s seminal work Approaching the Arches of Corti for 4 soprano saxophones, now available on New World Records.
NTQ has a track record of working closely with composers in a workshop environment during the formation of new works and encourages composer attendance at rehearsals. The quartet strives for multiple performances of newly commissioned works in attempt to bring new music to different audiences as often as possible.
NTQ has conducted masterclasses, residencies, and performances for student saxophonists and composers at Peabody Conservatory, Bronx Community College, Aaron Copland School (Queens College), Montclair State University, NYU and NASA Regional and Biennial conferences across the US. NTQ encourages young composers to create new works for saxophones through an open submission policy, conducting reading and feedback sessions throughout the year.
Ensemble members are Geoffrey Landman (soprano saxophone), Kristen McKeon (alto saxophone), Erin Rogers (tenor saxophone) and Zach Herchen (baritone saxophone). NTQ is a presenting partner of Composers Now.
Over 14 seasons, NYC-based New Thread Quartet has commissioned and premiered more than 150 new works. But their music has lived mostly in the ephemeral universe of concerts and broadcasts; Saxifraga is only the second album under their name, and the first since 2019’s Plastic Facts.
New Thread is by no means the only saxophone quartet around; the format has a history both in new music and in jazz. Contemporary composers continue to explore the character and colors of the saxophone in many different settings. Yet the instrument’s presence outside jazz , rock and pop can still feel somewhat exotic. When, for example, an esteemed composer like John Corigliano writes a saxophone concerto, it’s something to note.
The composers on New Thread Quartet’s Saxifraga run with this spirit in very different directions. The album opens with “Without World” by Scott Wollschleger. It’s a rhythmless narrative of repeated chromatic motives, blaring dissonant chords, growls, whispers, whistles, multiphonics, and sounds from the instruments’ mechanisms. It’s a defiant choice as an opener, as there is more “accessible” music later in the program. But I find its deliberate pace rather restful, its eccentric harmonies and chromatic figuring intriguing and at times quite beautiful.
Mysteriously derived percussive effects dance with trumpet-like exclamations and hesitant mumbles. Snaps, pops, and distorted overblows enliven the central section of the 16-minute piece. Gestures from individual instruments create fresh interest as we move toward the final minutes, where uneasy growls and now-familiar chromatics rise toward a sudden ending.
I’m not sure Wolschleger succeeded in depicting “a musical landscape that is without the human idea of ‘world.'” There’s a distinct sonic language here, and to say that is much the same as to say there’s a sound world. Regardless, whether intentionally or not, it made this listener feel welcome – even at home.
The five-part avalanche lily by Amy Beth Kirsten was inspired by the Wyoming countryside and its flora. The suite starts with the boisterous rhythms of “saxifraga,” perhaps reflecting the busy mats of colorful flowers that plants in that genus can produce. But inspiration aside, avalanche lily is abstract music; you don’t need to know anything about botany (or Latin) to appreciate it.
“Saxifraga” feels like like a dance number would like to emerge, something flecked with big-band or Latin jazz. But it reveals itself as a composition integral to itself, bending but not breaking any rules, testing only a few of the limits of traditional saxophone technique. When chordal elements break out they are harmonically friendly. A squawking solo line at the end feels like a soprano sax playing the part of a klezmer clarinet.
“Tree monks” starts out like a dialogue between thick tree roots and canopy fauna like birds or monkeys. Jazzy midrange harmonies intervene, suggesting a human presence. We then slide smoothly into “pipsissewa,” which sounds like a deconstructed jazz arrangement. “Toward the rubicon,” an assembly of cool, layered tones without obvious structure, has plenty of sly attitude.
Twirling figures intrude as the final movement, “marcescence,” emerges. The soprano sax chimes in with expressive melodies as the piece climbs toward a powerfully fidgety conclusion capped off with a series of piercing alarums.
The album ends with “Walk for a Shell” by Victoria Cheah. Here the saxophones play long tones that vary only slightly in frequency. The interferences produce audible pulses, familiar to anyone who has (let’s say) tuned a guitar by turning one key until the pulsing between two vibrating strings goes away.
Quieter breathy tones curdle under the higher pitches. The different instruments’ varying colors swim into consciousness, then recede. It’s a quivering, unstable sound environment. The composer suggests the piece should enable the listener to “find worlds in the most unexpected and mundane of places.” This particular world is a murky one.
Slowly and inexorably the music coalesces into a reality where there’s no such thing as “out of tune,” only a persistent conversation among related voices. A choral effect arises in the last few minutes when multiple voices are audible, including the soprano sax an octave above the dominant tones.
It’s an interesting way to end the album, with 20 minutes of this. It leaves one realizing that even the most familiar of instruments harbors endless possibilities. Mining them is a task that never ends, and never should. New Thread Quartet wants us to know that they’re on it.
— Jon Sobel, 4.14.2025
These three commissions are a tiny faction of the 150 pieces commissioned or premiered by the saxophone ensemble New Thread Quartet, based in New York City. It’s hard to imagine anyone rivaling their continuous dedication to new music for saxophone. This composite album was recorded between 2016 and 2023, in the order of composers listed in the headnote. That period saw changes in personnel, so the makeup for each work isn’t always the same. New Thread mentions in a performers’ note that they extensively rehearsed, discussed, and performed these works to achieve the highest level of musical results, which I readily believe given the excellence of the playing on display.
New Music is often conceptual, and we begin with Scott Wollschager’s endeavor “to imagine a musical landscape that is without the human idea of ‘world.’” This concept leaves me baffled, but his 16-minute quartet, Without World, falls in line with experimental multiphonics and pitch slides to create a sense of hovering on a vanishing horizon. Silent gaps appear between each specific gesture, and although we hear various extended techniques that are a familiar part of the New Music vocabulary—breathing, tapping, soft scraping—the overall effect for me was rather like listening to imaginary animals making creature sounds. World gives way to wildness in an intriguing way. On the other hand, Without World can be as abrasive and dissonant as it is intriguing. Something akin to soft cacophony challenges the listener.
Evocations of wonder and Nature serve as a portal to Amy Beth Kirsten’s available lily, which is organized in five movements that “explore aspects of the Wyoming countryside in sound.” Three movements, “saxifraga,” “pipsissewa,” and “avalanche lily,” are named for regional wildflowers. Associations with flowers don’t translate into nature pictures, however. A happy surprise is that the first movement, “saxifraga,” is cheerful, boppy, and playful, moods that suit the saxophone’s pop side. A chugging baritone sax motors the pace, overlaid with cheeky interjections from the alto, tenor, and soprano saxophones. (The album takes its title from “saxifraga,” which pointedly contains the word “sax.”)
The growling slow bass line in the next movement, “tree monks,” evokes the spirit of an ancient forest, while “pipsissewa” introduces a fractured syncopated dance with chirping remarks from the soprano sax in its high register. By this point it is evident that Kirsten has an ear for novel sounds with a disposition toward wit and fun, amounting to kind of optimism rare in New Music. In the remaining two movements, long, hypnotically sustained notes create an impression of the vastness of Western skies, coming back down to earth with a sort of playground game where the four saxes run in and around each other’s musical curlicues to form a dynamic mosaic. It all made for delightful listening.
Returning to experimentation, Victoria Cheah’s Walk for a shell is based on the dial tones of U.S. and UK telephones, limiting the music’s sustained notes to a range between 425 and 450 hz. Because we are listening to uninterrupted tone, there are no rhythms or musical mottos but subtle gradations of interference patterns. The music is often quite soft, inviting intimate reflection from the listener. As a performance, we hear a tour de force of quietude in music played at a dynamic of ppp and pppp for eight minutes. Near-inaudibility, alongside fragile beats in the tone and evanescent ripples, become a significant event. I’m not sure I can go as far as Cheah’s depiction of Walk for a shell as “finding worlds in the most unexpected and mundane of places,” but she has created a captivating soundscape like no other I’ve ever encountered.
As my comments illustrate, there’s a wide range of response for listeners to experience, but throughout I was struck by the accomplishment and assurance that the New Thread Quartet displays under wildly varying circumstances. Every piece here fully justifies itself with its originality and imagination. The aliveness that is possible in New Music is realized splendidly.
— Huntley Dent, 5.01.2025