Blackbird Creative Lab: Reflections

Last night’s performance was entitled “Reflections”, and marked the official end of the inaugural Blackbird Creative Lab. It was a hefty program, featuring the works of Lab composers Fjóla Evans, Dan Caputo, and Molly Herron, and the works of faculty and guest composers Jennifer Higdon, Ted Hearne, and Ned McGowan. The mood was more cerebral and contemplative than last night’s playful romp, but no less impactful. We heard two very different works of faculty composer Ted Hearne, By-By Huey and Warning Song. Bryan Hayslett mentioned offhandedly in one of the early rehearsals of Warning Song that he might have done the backing tracks a little differently, and I said, “Let’s make it happen.” So he spent a good chunk of the evenings at the Lab recording all new backing tracks (12 in total) that he used in the performance. (I also convinced him to use a felt pick on his cello and buy an iPad pro. I might be a bad influence.) Michiko Theurer and Nick memorized and played a few virtuosic duos  by Jörg Widmann, even incorporating a bit of waltzing – I don’t think Nick has played his cello sitting down once this whole two weeks. Nathalie played a duo with Aaron Wolf by Gabriela Frank which lamented the downfall of ancient civilizations. Jocelyn Zelasko and Justine Aronson sang a duo from Jennifer Higdon’s opera Cold Mountain about listening to the rhythm of nature, and Molly Herron wrote a moving work for Invoke using footage she shot in Lebanon and the Netherlands while mentoring refugee children in composition. Fjóla’s piece Eroding was meditative and a bit sad, with the barefoot performers starting in a circle and then moving around each other to eventually end in a tight cluster encircling the cellist.

The second half opened with Dan Caputo’s Dream Mechanics, which used the snare drum as a speaker for electronics. There was also a glowing fish bowl with a projection of a fish behind the performers, and the singer, caught in a lucid dream-state, feeling her way around stage with her eyes closed. Then came Amy Beth Kirsten’s For A Dream’s Sake, showcasing Jocelyn Zelasko trapped a nightmare. Two incredibly virtuosic pieces followed: Alexandre Lunsqui’s percussion duo Materiali, which used six terracotta roof tiles among many other things, and Kristin Kuster’s sax and piano duo Jellyfish. Then Nathalie’s group came out and absolutely killed Ned McGowan’s Garden of Iniquitous Creatures. I’d like to think they were able to play it so well because Ned essentially gave them a cheat sheet with his rhythm workshop, but the truth is they’re just that good.

In the words of our illustrious Lab Director, Elaine Martone, no self-respecting music festival doesn’t have an afterparty, so we got out the disco ball, ordered some tacos and margaritas delivered, and got down to partying. The mood was a bittersweet mix of elation over the accomplishments of the past two weeks and sadness over having to part with the precious tight-knit community we built. As I circulated among the fellows, reminiscing about the highs and lows, saying some pre-emptive goodbyes, I saw Nick and Matthew standing apart from the crowd with their drinks. I walked over to tease them about not dancing and hopefully prod Nick into rapping for us. But then Matthew gave me a look that I’ve only ever seen on his face when he talks about his children, this look of glowing pride. Given the hectic schedule we all had, we haven’t really had a chance to talk about our personal experiences, but at that moment, I knew we were all feeling the same thing. We were so incredibly proud of what these fellows have achieved over these past two weeks, and we feel so lucky to have enabled it. This is an actual dream come true for us. So while the fellows were lamenting the end of the Lab and the subsequent return to reality, and I had to remind them and myself that 1) this is reality, and 2) this is only the end of the beginning.

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