REFLECTIONS • James Adler (pn) • ALBANY 1980 (49:17) Live: Yamaha Artist Studio, NY 11/14–15/2023 1 , 3/26/2024 2

JAMES ADLER 1 A Curtis Reflection. HENCO ESPAG 1 Mistieke Feetjies. PAUL TUROK 2 Little Suite, op. 9. DEBUSSY 2 Deux Arabesques. SCHUMANN 2 Kinderszenen

American composer and pianist James Adler (b. 1950) has a knack for assembling imaginative, diverse, and interesting programs. This disc is a perfect example of that ability.

He begins by playing his own A Curtis Reflection, commissioned by the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia, where Adler studied. The three-movement suite represents Adler’s tribute to his four years at Curtis. It is mainly tonal but there are some grinding dissonances in the first movement, recalling the tragic death of his sister during that time. His music exhibits wit, a melodic gift, a very natural feel for the keyboard, and coloristic imagination. It is no surprise that he plays it with conviction, clarity of texture, and a keen ear for voicing.

Henco Espag is a South African composer and friend of Adler. The booklet doesn’t give a birth date for Espag, and I couldn’t find one on the internet. He wrote Mistieke Feetjies (Mystical Fairies) in 2022 and dedicated it to Adler. The music is delicate, whimsical, and lively. It is hard not to smile while hearing it.

American composer Paul Turok (1929–2012) was for many years an important critic in Fanfare, but he was also an important composer whose music has been performed and recorded with some frequency. His Little Suite for Piano was composed in 1976 and requires a brilliant technique. The first movement is close to being a perpetual motion display, the middle movement is a study of trills, and the finale a virtuosic toccata. Adler performs it with aplomb, clearly enjoying its challenges.

Debussy’s Deux Arabesques were an important part of Adler’s youth. He began playing them when his older brother Norman was learning them; James, then six, apparently imitated Norman’s performance (Norman was then 12), having never had a music lesson. Norman apparently called out, “Mom, Jimmy is going into music. I am going into science.”

The program closes with Schumann’s Kinderszenen, a much-recorded suite where I feared the recorded competition might dwarf Adler’s achievement. It doesn’t. Adler included this because it was the first piece he performed as a child. There are, of course, recordings by many great pianists, from Clifford Curzon to Martha Argerich. If you consider music a competitive sport in which there can be only one winner, you will probably find one of those recordings sufficient. But for me, music is an art, not a sport, and I am always interested to hear different takes on a classic. It is, of course, crucial that the take have something unique to offer. Adler’s ability to balance between the beauty and humor is superb, and his sense of proportion, of ideal tempo relationships, adds to the pleasure.

What also adds to the pleasure of this recording of Kinderszenen is its surroundings. So often it appears on an all-Schumann recital, or an all-German Romantic program. Situated here as the closing statement of a wide-ranging program of imaginative keyboard music, it takes on a unique feeling.

Throughout, Adler shows himself to be a distinguished, thoughtful, imaginative pianist, and the recorded sound is perfect. The program notes include remarks by Adler as well as others, and are informative. This is a lovely and imaginative recital. Henry Fogel

 

Reflections with Composer-Pianist James Adler
By David DeBoor Canfield

The ever-busy James Adler is anything but an idler in his dual roles as pianist and composer of note. This is evidenced by the present disc that focuses on both of his primary activities, in which he presents a varied recital of music by himself, his friends, and two old masters. I caught up with him in July of 2024 to query him about his latest accomplishment in the form of the Albany recital reviewed below.

James, it’s nice to have another opportunity to explore your work as pianist and composer in these pages. I want to begin this interview by asking you about your (and my) recently departed friend and colleague Joe Patrych, who was lost to his friends and admirers this past December. You must have known him quite well, given that he was the producer and recording engineer for several of your CD releases, including the one under review here. May I assume the recording here was one of his final recording projects? What can you tell Fanfare’s readers about this remarkable man and your musical interaction with him?

Thank you, David, for your kind words and for this opportunity. Joe Patrych was a close friend, and a superb producer and engineer for nearly all my recordings out there. Sadly, this recording of Reflections (Albany Records) is one of Joe’s final projects. He also worked to videotape my performance at Yamaha Artist Services Studio, NY, my pianistic “home,” in November, and to deliver this to my friends at the Curtis Institute of Music as commissioned and scheduled. I was commissioned by Curtis to compose A Curtis Reflection to help commemorate and celebrate the Curtis Centenary in 2024. That Friday, December 8th, was a rough day for Joe and me. We worked feverishly in his studio to complete the final video and delivered it to Nick DiBerardino, Dean of Curtis. Joe and I were in daily touch about this and also about his health concerns. We last spoke on the following Wednesday; sadly, Joe sustained a massive stroke the next day, and passed away the following week.

At that final December 8th working session together, David, he and I spoke about you. He thought the world of you and your music. Joe’s passing is untimely. I can almost hear him, now, complaining that he didn’t finish some of the projects he was contracted to do that (December 2023) month. May Joe be of blessed memory.

Were you able to attend the memorial concert given in his honor?

Unfortunately, I was traveling then. But I want to relate something about my own memorial concert for Joe: In my program booklet’s back page, Albany Records included a photo of Joe with me. This was taken at our Album Launch Reception for That Star in the Picture here in Scott’s and my home, June 2023. At this party, Joe invited me to perform on his celebrated series “Sunday Evenings at Klavierhaus.” We selected April 28, 2024 as the date. and we discussed repertoire. Joe knew I wanted to perform Beethoven’s “Waldstein” Piano Sonata on this occasion. Even though Klavierhaus is a “Steinway” house and I’m a Yamaha artist, Yamaha Director Bonnie Barrett gave me her blessing to perform on this series, since it was “for Joe.” The wonderful Jed Distler took over as artistic director of the series, ably assisted by Joe’s A/V engineer-protégé, James Wu. While I hated like hell that this turned out to be an in memoriam concert, Jed remarked to me that Joe was looking down and hopefully was smiling.

In addition to the touching photo of you and Joe on the back of the booklet, there is an equally nice one of you and Jeanne Velonis, who produced and recorded some of the other selections on the CD. Which pieces were done by her? Were some pieces recorded after Joe’s passing?

Through Susan Bush (president of Albany Records), I was referred to her longtime friends and top recording producers and engineers, Judy Sherman and Jeanne Velonis. Jeanne had previously recorded in the Yamaha Studio and is also a good friend of my close friend and flutist Denise Koncelik, who performed on my previous Albany Records album, That Star in the Picture, which you reviewed so warmly. Denise and Jeanne even came up with the idea for my reflected hands on the booklet cover. So, I was also blessed to be working with producer and engineer Jeanne Velonis for this album! And, I hope, future recording projects. She had the task of blending the previously recorded tracks by Joe Patrych with the other works which she recorded, to come up with a beautifully mastered finished recording. I keep referring to her and her effort as “Jeannie Magic.” She also knew Joe, as they occasionally bumped into each other in a grocery market in the Bronx. They liked and respected each other.

In the end, Joe Patrych recorded my A Curtis Reflection and Henco Espag’s Mistieke Feetjies (“Mystical Fairies”) at Yamaha in November 2023. The other works on this project—Paul Turok’s Little Suite for Piano, Claude Debussy’s Deux Arabesques, Robert Schumann’s Kinderszenen—were produced by and engineered by Jeanne Velonis at Yamaha in March 2024. I did perform these works at my November 2023 recital at Yamaha, which Joe recorded, but that recording sadly was lost. However, as I mentioned, Jeanne Velonis came to my rescue!

What do you intend to signify in the disc’s title, Reflections?

With this title, along with the album’s cover art (yes, those are my hands reflected in my favorite Yamaha CFX concert grand’s fallboard) Reflections is “an image, a return of light or energy, a sign or result, even a thought.” In my program note, I indicate that this album is a celebration, first for special friends and composers featured on this album (i.e., Henco Espag and Paul Turok), and secondly, for special musical “friends,” with which I’ve had a long association, namely the works by Debussy and Schumann.

Recalling your earlier recital, Homages & Remembrances, which I reviewed back in 43:3, with its tributes to your departed brother and other lost friends, as well as your Memento mori that paid homage to friends lost in the AIDS epidemic, do you consider yourself a particularly nostalgic person?

My oft-repeated joke, first told to me by my mother, is that I’m at an age where I don’t buy green bananas! I’ve enjoyed a long and wonderful career, celebrating life’s “ups” and “downs” and expressing it in my way, a musical way. The AIDS epidemic devastated many families and friends. We lost many and I had to do something—and do it musically. Memento mori: An AIDS Requiem was the result. In a previous Fanfare interview in 43:3, I discussed memorial pieces I wrote for my deceased brother Norman, Henco’s lost brother Manus, and other departed friends. Beyond those, my professors at Curtis also talked about taking the traditions of the past and giving them new meanings for the future. In my lessons, we discussed creating music and recreating it—the differences, that is. I remember having a tough coaching session with Rudolf Serkin, who made sure I learned to respect Beethoven’s own markings! As a composer, I am sensitive to dynamics, markings, and performance details in the music. I try to remember those wonderful lessons and coaching sessions, before and after my Curtis days. So, to answer your question: Yes, I am nostalgic. I am also grateful to have known and worked with greatness.

Your friend Henco Espag’s Mistieke Feetjies was written especially for you. Did he write this work for inclusion on this disc in particular? If so, how does it fit in with the theme of the recital?

Henco is a dear and close friend, and yes, I did ask him to compose something for me for this album. He previously composed Herinneringe (Remembrances) for me, included on my Homages & Remembrances album (Albany Records). Audiences were delighted whenever I performed it. His Mistieke Feetjies (Mystical Fairies), which Henco coached me how to pronounce properly in Afrikaans so I could introduce it to audiences, is so much fun to play; fairies are flying and the glissandi make me giggle. When I first saw the score, I knew I should record anew Debussy’s Deux Arabesques, as it is the perfect companion music.

Do you like to perform a new work in public before you commit it to disc? Did you, indeed, perform your and Henco’s works prior to visiting the recording studio?

For Henco’s Mistieke Feetjies, yes, I performed this several times, before recording it. I like to get to know a piece first and to perform it for different audiences, on different pianos, and in different halls. As I mentioned, the recording on this disc was taken from my live concert at Yamaha Studio NY last November, and I’ve played the piece in several other programs.

For A Curtis Reflection, I played it in Scott’s and my home for friends and colleagues before performing it at Yamaha in November 2023. But the world premiere performance at Yamaha was also the live recording you hear. I have since performed this suite on several programs, most recently in my Klavierhaus concert in late April, 2024, and in a recital on the Arts on Bergen noontime series at Saint Peter’s University, in early April 2024. Joe and I needed to get the video and mastered recording of my work to Curtis, as contractually promised, on time! I am a composer who likes and respects commission deadlines. Well—I do try!

Your own work on this program looks back to memories, both happy and sad, from your years at the Curtis Institute of Music. I was intrigued not only by those that you mentioned but by the fact that the three movement titles all represent various addresses that were significant to you during that time. Did you, as you did for Sherry, the sister you lost in that period of your life, and whose name you worked into the piece, also incorporate the names or numbers of those street addresses into the piece? What else can you tell us about how you pictured your Curtis years in this musical backward glance at your life?

Thank you for asking, David! Yes, I did work the addresses into the music. In the opening movement “222” (222 W. Rittenhouse Square) in the key of F, that address intrudes into the soft nature of the movement. In short, three G’s (marked louder) punctuate the lyrical F-Major flow. And this “222” (or G-G-G) motif recurs in the suite’s other movements. After all, one sometimes may go home again, musically speaking. In the second movement, titled “Parkway House,” I incorporate the bells that rang in our neighborhood every day at noon. It was a special time; my friend John and I lived in this beautiful building. The movement is marked “Slow, Molto Legato – Nostalgic” and is in the lush key of D♭ Major, with a time signature in 5/4. Thick chords are used to create a “spiky” dissonance against the D♭ major backdrop. John left Philadelphia, returning to Chicago to look after his mother. My living “solo,” at this point, is reflected in the music. Yes, nostalgia indeed! The suite’s final movement, “1726” (1726 Locust Street) is the address of the Curtis Institute of Music. I took those numbers, translating them on the diatonic scale to become (in C Major): C, B, D, A. This motif is used throughout the music, in contrapuntal fashion and marked Precipitato. I enjoyed incorporating jazz elements into this very Classical-style piece. Sherry’s motive then returns, its bittersweet quality and loping melody in the bass line leading into fast, staccato, and jumpy gestures with the “1726” motif. The ending, marked Presto (which increases at the end to Presstissimo), is full of sliding, giggling, laughing, and joy! And, truth be told, sometimes some singing along à la Glenn Gould. I credit Jeanne Velonis for softening my “vocalization.”

How does Debussy’s Two Arabesques fit into the theme of the recital?

I’ve discovered new things in this Debussy gem. When I performed it on my Yamaha Studio recital, several colleagues in the audience came to me afterwards with tears in their eyes. My special friend and publicist Alanna Maharajh Stone told me then that she wished I would include this on this new disc. Albany’s Susan Bush also told me to “go for it,” if I had something new to add to the work. An additional consideration was Henco Espag’s delicious and delightful Mistieke Feetjies, with its flying figures and fairies, which fits so well with the Arabesques, especially the second of the two. A splendid (to me) additional connection is the second movement of Paul Turok’s Little Suite for Piano, in which his “Arabesque” continues the light dancing impression.

Your program notes mention that the Kinderszenen of Schumann was the first work you performed in public, when you were only 13 years old. Do you have a recording of that auspicious event? If so (or if you can recall that performance), what did you like about your early rendition of the work, and what, if anything, did you realize had to be performed differently as a mature artist?

When I first performed Kinderszenen at age 13, I’m not sure recordings were invented yet. Okay, just kidding! My mother had to work in the family store, so my dear Aunt Reva took me to my first recital, at the American Conservatory of Music in Chicago, where I performed this. Alas, no recording. I played with much emotion, but hadn’t yet learned about the scholarship in this piece. I loved performing before a live audience, and won my first competition gold medal, at the American Conservatory of Music, later that year. By coincidence, one of my two competition pieces was that very second Arabesque by Debussy! But, I digress.

As a more mature artist, I endeavor to let the music flow. I don’t impose my impulses to “show off,” but rather allow the music and the composer to speak. Reviewers have recently given me high marks for my interpretation of “Träumerei.” My goal is to let its counterpoint and simplicity ring out without any forced (or imposed) rubato. “Der Dichter spricht” is another special moment for me, much changed since I interpreted this in my teens. One big difference is that, once upon a long ago time, I could reach the interval of a tenth in my left hand. Age and losing height doesn’t allow me to reach that interval now. What to do? I let the poet speak with each of those last chordal notes played separately, and with more pianistic control than I ever had in my youth.

Can you recall now your emotions during that first recital? Were you apprehensive? Exhilarated? Relieved when it was concluded?

I was nervous, thrilled, excited—and loved making music, reveling in the fact that my special Aunt Reva was in the audience. People came up to me afterwards with tears in their eyes, something I didn’t understand at age 13. Now, I look to create joy with my music and want my discoveries from the practice studio (where the magic first happens) to reach directly into each listener’s imagination, emotions, and heart. Actually, I was relieved when that first recital concluded—but I wanted to do it all over again! At my next lesson, I asked Mrs. Willits (Rose Barthel Willits) if I could start working on Rachmaninoff’s Preludes and works by Liszt. I wanted and needed to perform more. I’d almost forgotten that I won, after receiving Mrs. Willits’s encouragement to enter it, the Chicago Tribune’s Chicagoland Music Festival competition with the Paganini-Liszt Grand Étude in E♭ Major when I was 15.

You were obviously a young piano prodigy, not only because you performed with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra at an early age but because you were accepted into what is likely the music institution with the most rigorous entrance standards in this country. Why do you think so many prodigies burn out before they establish themselves as artists? Is there anything you can recall that helped you avoid this fate?

There are many reasons why so-called prodigies (I never thought of myself that way) burn out quickly. First, are they playing and performing for their parents? For themselves? I look at their intent. Secondly, and very simply, This-Business-of-Show is terribly difficult to get into, to continue in and, hopefully, to succeed in. But success has to be judged on several levels. Artistic success? Gratification in performing to a professional standard? In my case, I kept going, following my passion. For my students, I encourage them to follow their dreams, and to work hard. There will be highs and lows in anyone’s pursuit of a career in music or any of the arts. But I believed in myself and I encourage students to do the same, and to work their a**es off!

How does composing compare to performing in this regard?

Composing music can be very lonely, as you and I know, but so gratifying. In early April of this year, I had the privilege of attending a concert at Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall where several movements from my Suite Moderne for Strings were so handsomely performed. Sitting in the audience, I relished the experience of looking at that beautiful stage with performers playing my music straight from the heart. A good number of them told me afterwards how much they loved performing my music and what it meant to them. They also mentioned how impressed they were that I could mark the bowings. I told them that’s how we were taught to write music at Curtis!

Do you have further projects in the pipeline?

Yes, indeed. I’ve been commissioned by the Music Director at Saint Peter’s University to compose a Christmas carol for their Lessons & Carols service and concert in December 2024. How does a proverbial “nice Jewish boy” write Christmas music? Based on history, very well! There’s a long list of Jewish composers and lyricists who have contributed to this genre. I’ll keep you posted. More piano recitals are scheduled for Spring of 2025. I will be busy orchestrating the carol during the fall, and working with Joseph Hill, his choir, and the orchestra.