Royal Northern Sinfonia: New York Minimalism

Wylam Brewery, Newcastle

30 June 2024

Julius Eastman Joy Boy
Philip Glass Music in Similar Motion
Julius Eastman Femenine

I'll admit the hook for me tonight was Philip Glass, even though his part of the programme was quite small. And though the name Julius Eastman meant nothing to me, I knew he was a contemporary of Glass in the 70s, and as I have a general liking for that school of minimalism I expected it would be worth listening to.

The concert layout was very unusual. Nine musicans sat in a circle, facing inwards, with the audience in a circle around them, with no raised stage, so in the front row I was literally two paces away from the closest musician, close enough to read the scores on his music stand. The instrumentation for all three pieces was (clockwise from me): saxophone, marimba (and general percussion), bassoon (and contrabassoon, I think), cello, piano, glockenspiel I think (and more percussion), trombone, flute (and piccolo), and clarinet (and bass clarinet, or maybe contrabass clarinet). Probably the most unusual combination I've ever heard.

The first peice started and ... honestly, I'm not a fan. While I don't remember knowing Eastman's name, I have a feeling I have heard Joy Boy before, and I don't like it. It feels like a set of random sounds, put together without any structure, and it's just not interesting. Even at only eight minutes, it was tough to get through.

The second piece was completely different. At 12 minutes, Music in Similar Motion just flew past and I could have happily have sat through it again. I don't know how to describe it, except to say it sounded like Philip Glass, and I was not at all disappointed.

But I now had severe reservations about the final piece to come after the interval, listed as being 74 minutes in length. After struggling so much with Joy Boy, I really wasn't sure I could cope with over an hour of Eastman again in Femenine.

Well, the phrase "pleasantly surprised" doesn't even come close. Femenine is magnificent.

The piece opens with the musicians entering the hall while each ringing a set of sleigh bells. They walk around the hall like this for five minutes, before one by one taking up their instrument and begining to play. The music they play is just astonishingly good. It's rhythmically exciting, and it's melodically beautiful, and it's structurally fascinating. There's a single, short, compelling, main theme that repeats endlessly, but never feeling repetitive, as it's carried and developed by the contrasting instruments. But when you've been sitting comfortably with this, the musicians get up and spend ten minutes walking around the room, either playing their instruments as they walk, or in some cases actually singing (wordlessly). Then they encourange the audience to join in a sing-along, conducting us to follow the rise and fall of the melody. After this long interlude, when they're finally all sitting down again, the music shifts to a more dramatic rhythmic pattern, with repeated crescendos that you soom learn to anticipate, and it's all just ... it's just so beautiful, and joyful, and I'm literally moved to tears by it.

Femenine is an absolutely magnificent piece of music. And the ensemble performs it—not just plays it, but performs it—beautifully. I am so impressed with them, and with the composer. Probably the best piece of music in this style that I've ever seen performed. I didn't want it to end, and I want to see it again next week.