String Quartet no. 2 "Current" 2019

date completed 2019
duration 29'
scored for string quartet and resonating snare drums
required tech 4sn.dr.,2amps, 2 speaker cones, 2 transdcrs.
commission Cal Performances for Spektral Quartet
premiere April 2022 in Berkeley, CA

I - fast, noise (rallentando)
II - fast, quiet, building (for Chris Stark)
III - quiet, patient
IV - fast noisy (ritornello)
V - quiet, pulsing (for Ingram Marshall)











press

It’s temptingly easy to imagine that acoustic and electronic music occupy distinct spheres, with different rules and aesthetic guidelines. In reality, though, the two have always enjoyed a loose affiliation, and composers can mix the two creative resources as freely as a painter mixes hues on a palette.

Samuel Adams’ engrossing String Quartet No. 2, which had its world premiere in Berkeley’s Hertz Hall on Sunday, Feb. 13, during a recital by the Spektral Quartet, makes this point with notable dexterity. In addition to the four traditional string instruments, Adams includes four snare drums, sitting directly on the stage, with small speakers on them that can be activated by one of the performers. When that happens, the drumheads emit a delicate ghostly whoosh, like wind over water. It’s a semi-familiar sound — you’ve heard snare drums make it before, but never without the percussive attack of drumsticks — and it creates a simultaneous sense of strangeness and comfort.

Yet what emerged even more strikingly during Sunday’s recital — presented by Cal Performances, which co-commissioned the half-hour work — was how lightly Adams interweaves this effect into the musical tapestry. It’s a color, and a vivid one; it’s not a structural element.

For the most part, Adams’ piece, which runs just under half an hour, is a superbly inviting meditation on our old friends harmony, rhythm and rhetoric. Adams is an increasingly familiar figure to Bay Area audiences — a Berkeley native, the son of composer John Adams — and this quartet seemed to represent a powerfully precise convergence of ambition and means.

Two of its five movements (the first and fourth) are concise and single-minded, like palate cleansers before and between the courses of the meal. They consist of sharply attacked string chords, repeated over and over while the snare drums contribute a clattery aura.

Each of these serves as the curtain-raiser to a more expansive stretch of writing. In the second movement, Adams creates a field of shimmering, shifting chords made up of multiple small repetitions. The textures that emerge are simultaneously static and in constant motion, like atoms in a volume of gas (here Adams draws a bit on the techniques of “micropolyphony” associated with the modernist composer György Ligeti). The finale uses rhythmic repetitions to approach similar material from a different direction.

Yet the most directly expressive part of the quartet — its human essence, perhaps — is in the quiet central movement. The movement is built around a poignant and beautiful melodic gesture, a sort of gentle call to attention, that recurs at key junctures throughout the movement. “Listen to this,” it says in a way that is simultaneously peremptory and loving, before continuing to pursue the musical discourse. It’s a deeply touching passage in the midst of a compelling creation.

The Spektral Quartet — which consist of violinists Clara Lyon and Maeve Feinberg, violist Doyle Armbrust, and cellist Russell Rolen — have been involved with the piece since its inception (it was supposed to premiere in 2020, but COVID intervened). The ensemble gave it a focused and clearly committed reading, balancing delicacy and fervor in splendid proportion.

San Francisco Chronicle ↗