Sid Richardson: Borne by a Wind

In his poetry Nathaniel Mackey explores the improvised continuum of history, its plurality of memories, and crucial roles performed by myth and ritual. That's quite an agenda to take on when setting his words to music. The poet's own voice is placed at the heart of the five movements of Richardson's Red Wind, and the supple soprano singing of Mellissa Hughes weaves around his readings from the collection Blue Fasa. These contrasting, yet complementary, modes of delivering Mackey's words are set within tactfully spaced and stylistically flexible music, written specifically for The Deviant Septet, an ensemble combining brass, woodwinds, violin, double bass and percussion. Boston based Richardson's resourceful debut release also features a solo piano work, an exchange between violin and plaintive cries of a great Northern diver, and a lively episode for chamber group, incorporating text drawn from Whitman and Chaucer.

— Julian Cowley, 4.13.2021

A thought-provoking selection of recent works by this Boston based composer. Red Wind is the dramatic centrepiece, fusing poetry with an unusual and evocative musical soundscape.

Sid Richardson has an eloquent answer to the question: “How do you make art?” He comes together with poet Nathaniel Mackey and others to create this music. The black dots leap off the page entwined with Mackey’s lyrical recitations and the sound of horns, percussion and bass performed by the Deviant Septet. The searing heat of an artful sirocco, titled Red Wind, begins a memorable disc of Richardson’s music.

The repertoire of Borne by a Wind features three other works by Richardson. There is no sleep so deep is a gentle, reassuring work that gets a suitably sensitive performance from pianist Conrad Tao, whose fingers seem to caress the notes of the melody. LUNE follows with the mystical high and lonesome wail of Lilit Hartunian’s violin. It is a brilliantly conceived tone poem that soars skyward, evocative of a crepuscular musical event under a cloudless celestial canopy.

Richardson’s music is highly imaginative and reflects his singularly eclectic taste. The curved lenses and mirrors of a myriad of contemporary styles and movements in the arts have been telescoped into these works. The glue is, of course, Richardson’s spectral voice, somewhat reminiscent of Gérard Grisey and Kaija Saariaho. These uncanny parallels are, perhaps, most discernable in Astrolabe where the Da Capo Chamber Players’ performance is interwoven with Walt Whitman’s and Geoffrey Chaucer’s poetry, the whispered climax of which brings this remarkable disc to a dramatic end.

— Raul de Gama, 5.06.2021

This captivating debut portrait album from Richardson also features a piece inspired by literature. In this case it's the poetry of Nathaniel Mackey, whose radio-ready narration enlivens the five-movements of Red Wind. The words are as evocative as the music, which moves in cinematic fashion through different scenes and moods. The performance by Deviant Septet could not be improved and Richardson's writing for jazz in a classical setting is the equal of Shostakovich's, except it swings a little harder. The album also includes There is no sleep so deep, and elegiac piece for solo piano, played here by Conrad Tao, and LUNE, for violin and fixed media, including field recordings of loon cries, which are perfectly integrated into the sounds of the violin. Lilit Hartunian's performance is deeply engaging. Finally, we have Astrolabe, a sparkling piece for six instruments given a dazzling run by the Da Capo Chamber Players, who gamely shout and whisper the excerpts from Chaucer and Whitman sprinkled throughout. I note that the most recent recording here is from 2017 so all gratitude to New Focus for bringing this remarkable music to light.

— Jeremy Shatan, 3.14.2021

Borne by a Wind, the debut recording by Sid Richardson (b. 1987), provides an engaging account of the Boston-born composer's interests. Dominating the release is a five-movement collaboration with poet Nathaniel Mackey, but the three others, chamber works respectively performed by pianist Conrad Tao, violinist Lilit Hartunian, and the Da Capo Chamber Players, are no less deserving of attention. Like many a contemporary composer, Richardson isn't averse to letting elements of popular and non-classical genres seep into his writing. Eschewing membership in any one prescriptive ‘school,' he's instead someone more inclined to use whatever's needed to bring expression to a particular idea.

Though Richardson is a faculty member with the New England Conservatory of Music in North Carolina, the fifty-five-minute release was recorded at Baldwin Auditorium at Duke University, where he completed his doctoral degree. A strong literary dimension permeates his writing, with inspiration drawn from figures such as Beckett, Chaucer, Longfellow, Keats, and Rimbaud. That interest literally arises in Red Wind, which incorporates the sound of Mackey reciting excerpts from his poetry collection Blue Fasa. The work's title, incidentally, derives from one of the poems in the collection, “Hofriyati Head Opening,” the Hofriyati being villagers in the north of Sudan who harbour a belief in a red wind that afflicts possessed persons and that can be alleviated through a series of rituals.

The narrator's accompanied by seven others for the 2017 work, with soprano Mellissa Hughes and five instrumentalists conducted by Brad Balliett. It's a stylistically sprawling creation that's never less than stimulating, especially when Hughes' at times rhapsodic delivery forms a dramatic contrast to Mackey's measured elocution. While the instrumental resources—percussion, bass clarinet, trumpet, trombone, and bass—are modest, the musical tapestry is abundant in texture and timbre. Hughes' singing ensures the work retains a classical tie, but the material otherwise leans in the direction of explorative jazz, its tone reminiscent of a small group backing a spoken word poet in a dimly lit nightclub.

The opening “A Night in Jaipur” is compelling for a number of reasons, among them Hughes' whooping and the dazed, incantatory tone. Mackey's wordplay captivates during the spoken word passages, which gain force from the instrumental backdrop. Whereas a strong jazz influence pervades “Head Opening” when the musicians adopt a loose style far removed from classical writing per se, things take a noticeably bluesier turn for “Anabatic Jukebox” with trumpeter Tim Leopold blowing against a slow shuffle and bass clarinetist Bill Kalinkos and trombonist Mike Lormand joining him for a sensual Bossa Nova episode.

Vastly unlike Red Wind in presentation are the three pieces that follow, the first, 2016's There is no sleep so deep, performed by pianist Tao. Written as a musical eulogy for Richardson's grandmother and inspired by Samuel Beckett's play Footfalls, the five-minute setting alternates between episodes of near-stasis and rapid tumult—a work both peaceful and turbulent. The Astrolabe (2014), recorded by the Da Capo Chamber Players and incorporating shouted fragments taken from Chaucer's Treatise on the Astrolabe and Walt Whitman's “Kosmos” (from Leaves of Grass), concludes the recording on a chamber music note, the character of Richardson's ritualistic writing as starry-eyed and mystical as the astrolabe itself, an ancient astronomical device intended as a handheld model of the universe.

As dominant as Red Wind is, it's rivaled by 2015's LUNE, which is realized magnificently by violinist Hartunian in an eleven-minute rendering. Richardson, who drew for inspiration from the wails of loons he heard when attending a Vermont festival, combines the creature's haunting call with Hartunian's mournful supplications, the effect suggesting yearning exchanges between two distantly separated creatures. Admittedly, each of the four works is so different, it proves difficult to get a clear handle on Richardson's ‘voice'; that said, Borne by a Wind definitely succeeds in documenting the broad stylistic range he's interested in exploring, and at the very least, as an introduction to this composer's world, the release offers much to appreciate.

— Ron Schepper, 3.29.2021

The works on this release by composer Sid Richardson all involve external stimuli: literary texts, a natural scene, or an ancient scientific device, the astrolabe, that serves as a symbol of the universe. All are immediately attractive, even for listeners not particularly oriented toward contemporary music, for their musical imagery is vivid and even visceral. Consider Lune, for violin and electronics, which represents not only the moon but some loons that the composer heard on a lake in Vermont; it's very hard to resist. However, the most distinctive work is the opening Red Wind (2017), which sets five poems by experimental poet Nathaniel Mackey. The texts are spoken by Mackey, ranging in inspiration from the titular phenomenon of the Nile river shore to the city of Jaipur, India, and the music is played by the Deviant Septet chamber group. The big news here is that what used to be called Third Stream music makes a major new appearance. Richardson's piece is apparently all notated rather than improvised, but it draws on an extraordinarily wide range of influences from bass-driven 1960s modern jazz to contemporary French tonalities to modernist vocal lines of the George Crumb sort (the texts are both spoken and manipulated in melodic vocal settings of various kinds). It all coheres rather uncannily in its relationship to the distinctively African American yet ethnically ecumenical qualities of the texts, and at this point, it's pretty much unlike anything else out there. Richardson is also notable in the way he numbers electronics among his resources, yet is not an "electronic composer," and in the variety of sounds of which he is capable. An excellent chance to sample the music of this rising composer.

— James Manheim, 3.24.2021

The Boston native and esteemed composer Sid Richardson brings us his debut portrait album, where music and literature meet at a very creative and fascinating intersection as many talented artists accompany him on the journey.

“Red Wind: I. A Night In Jaipur” starts the listen with poetic storytelling by Nathaniel Mackey, as plenty of atmosphere adds mystery, and it’s not long until soaring, highly skilled singing from Melissa Hughes enters alongside strategic percussion and well timed horns, and “Red Wind: II. Head Opening” follows with a busier landscape of chamber and jazz ideas as plenty of spoken word is backed by firm drumming from Sam Budish

Later on, “Red Wind: V. Rag” benefits much from playful woodwind as plenty of lively brass and marching band style drumming enters the very agile climate, while “There Is No Sleep So Deep” recruits piano acrobatics from Conrad Tao in a busy versus bare display that amazes us with its unpredictable execution.

“LUNE” and “Astrolabe” bookend the listen, where the former is full of ambience as sounds of wildlife give it a haunting tone that’s glowing with Lilit Hartunia’s violin, and the latter finishes the listen with a controlled chaos approach between flute, clarinet, cello and others that embraces forceful singing and meticulous instrumentation thanks to the Da Capo Chamber Players.

Richardson’s impressive resume includes working with Branford Marsalis, the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra and Deviant Septet (who are included here), among others, and Borne By A Wind is another exciting chapter in his body of work that displays a chamber, orchestral and classical vision that few, if anyone, could replicate.

— Tom Haugen, 2.13.2021

Some composers create music as they might breathe. The music follows upon itself in a natural flow, like conversation idealized into a musical transform. That's the feeling I get listening to Sid Richardson on his recent Borne by a Wind (New Focus Recordings FCR285).

It in part centers around the poetry of Nathaniel Mackey, a kind of Post-Beat brilliance well suited to getting articulated around a musical incubation, so to speak. The five movement "Red Wind" defines that, in recitation of Mackey fleshed out further by soprano Melissa Hughes and the Deviant Septet (with wind, contrabass and percussion to take on Jazz or New Music inflections alternately) giving shape and form to the poetic imagery. It all proceeds in ways that channel Jazz and New Music, to further everything and make it make a kind of perfect aural sense, poetic, meaningful Jazz-Classical Modern elements and a touch of World, all wrapped into one.

I've heard "Red Wind" a bunch of times so far and it keeps making more and more of an impression on me, so that is a happy thing. Rounding out the program are three additional chamber gems--"There is no sleep so deep" for solo piano, "LUNE" for solo violin, and "Astrolabe" for the six instrumentalists of the Da Capo Chamber Players. All three pieces further deepen our appreciation of the advanced, eloquent and limber contemporary inventiveness of Richardson.

The piano piece is in the Ultra-Modern performative mode, beautifully done by Conrad Tao. "LUNE" gets concentrated soundings by Lilit Hartunian. It is meditative, open, empty and full at the same time, redolent with motivic insistence without taking on the mesmeric periodicity that old-school Minimalism typically worked towards.

"Astrolabe" does for sextet what "LUNE" did for solo violin--it unwraps a kind of unified musical idea only in more complex and multivoiced ways that unveil variational endlessnesses.

As is usually the case these blog words are not meant to provide a definitive analog to the sounds so much as pique curiosity and suggest the directionality of an album. So that. On the basis of this Borne by a Wind program Sid Richardson is an important voice on the New Music scene today. The entire program combines sound color and eloquent linings ever. Highly recommended.

— Grego Applegate Edwards, 3.22.2021

Sid Richardson’s music on a (+++) New Focus Recordings CD is quite different and much more in line with what listeners are likely to mean when they talk about “modern classical music.” The solo pieces here for piano and violin – the latter also including electronic media – sound the way people who do not regularly listen to contemporary music will expect this music to sound. And the two works for chamber ensemble, one of which includes two vocal parts, will also match expectations in their handling of the instruments (voices included) and the way the material is organized and presented. The most-substantial work here is the five-movement Red Wind (2017) for soprano, narrator, bass clarinet, trumpet, trombone, percussion, and contrabass. The instrumental lineup itself shows one way in which some of today’s composers try to set their music apart from earlier works, by utilizing familiar instruments in new combinations. The sounds of Red Wind involve narrator and soprano intertwined (so the differing, superimposed words from both are largely inaudible), plus sections in which the soprano sings with the wide leaps and substantial dissonance characteristic of much modern music. Words are repeated and move into and out of coherence – their selection and meaning typical for music and poetry of a certain type (“I stood on stilts,” “there though I wasn’t there,” “ad hoc epiphany,” “to see it so, saw it so”). The instrumental music is disconnected from the vocals, the percussion often explosive and the potential melody instruments being used as sound generators rather than tune or harmony producers. Even the movements’ titles reflect a certain approach to contemporary music – for instance, two are called “Anabatic Jukebox” and “Anacoluthic Light.” The other chamber piece here, the single-movement Astrolabe (2014), is for flute, clarinet/bass clarinet, violin, cello, piano and percussion, and is less wide-ranging and ambitious than Red Wind. But Astrolabe is cut from much the same auditory cloth: athematic, setting instruments against each other rather than in any sort of cooperation, it revels in sound generation rather than any sort of communicative desire (and it does include some voices shouting exclamations, although it lacks the specific vocal writing of Red Wind). Listeners who enjoy the type of contemporary music that is a sound collection rather than a thematic/harmonic/rhythmic progression are likely the intended audience for Astrolabe, which has some attractive interplay of higher instruments from time to time but, as a whole, could be played backwards and have the same effect as playing it forwards. The solo-violin work here – actually “for violin and fixed media” – is called LUNE and actually lasts longer than Astrolabe. Despite the omnipresent electronic material, LUNE (2015) does not have the aural variability of either chamber work on this disc and does not sustain very well at its considerable length. It is mostly an atmospheric piece, giving a sense of distance and greyness and isolation in the violin, enhanced by the electronics into a soundscape of emptiness. The solo-piano work here, There is no sleep so deep (2016), is only half as long and, partly for that reason, is more effective. It also has more variability than the work for solo violin: there are contrasts of soft and loud, of slow and speedy. Like all the other music here, the piece is athematic and more about sound generation than anything else – but the inherent ability of a modern piano to produce variegated tonal material in many registers, at many tempos, gives the work a level of interest that the other pieces on the CD do not possess. Richardson’s handling of the piano is nevertheless as strongly contrasted to Piana’s approach to the instrument as it is possible to be – an object lesson in the extremes to which today’s composers can choose to go in seeking to create works that reach out to very different potential audiences from very different communicative perspectives.