Honestly, I bought this CD because it has a nice cover. Pink and Yellow. I've always had a hard time selecting what to buy as far as contemporary music is concerned. There are some badly performed, badly recorded albums around, not to mention composers who will not strike a chord with you no matter how many listenings. Pick the wrong disc, and you have a disc gathering dust on your shelf for all eternity. This one certainly didn't look boring, and I was prepared to give the music of Michael Daugherty a chance. Actually, I have heard Daugherty's music before, on Kronos Quartet's album Released/Unreleased - a piece called Elvis Everywhere for 3 Elvis impersonators and String Quartet.

Hmm.

Well, there's only one word to describe the music of this composer - FUN. All out, rollicking good fun, tongue-in-cheek and maybe even a tad satirical. If you're looking for serious, no nonsense, this-is-the-music-of-today, sophisticated, alarming, shocking, richly encoded with clever references and avant garde technique, then you're reading the wrong review. American Icons is quite the opposite. This is clever stuff and it's very American, but I don't think you can analyze this like a Foss, Copland or Corigliano. That's the thing, why should you?

What it is: This is an anthology of Michael Daugherty's chamber music. As it is, Daugherty has carved a niche in musical history as the chronicler of America's pop culture. If I may, he is music's answer Lichtenstein. Drawing his raw material from aspects of this pop culture (that is by no means strange to all of us in the rest of the world), he has composed music about Edgar J. Hoover, pink plastic flamingos found on front lawns of suburban America, Elvis (2 pieces!) and yes, Superman.

The Metropolis Symphony (1988-93) based on themes and characters drawn from Superman comics is an "absurdist take" on the Romantic symphony, and next to the opera Jackie-O (1997) is his largest symphonic work to date. The latter work, about Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis (1929-1994), is perhaps his most serious and most mature. Make no mistake, this is no young upstart playing clown in the serious music arena.

Born in 1954, he has received numerous prestigious awards including recognition from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, and fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts. His list of teachers include Earle Brown, Jacob Druckman, Bernard Rands, and Roger Reynolds; collaborated with jazz arranger Gil Evans in New York City, then pursuing further studies with György Ligeti in Hamburg, Germany (1982-84). His music has been performed by prominent American orchestras like LA, NY, Chicago, Cleveland, Detroit and overseas by BBC Symphony Orchestra, the Philharmonia Orchestra (London), the Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich, the London Sinfonietta, Netherlands Wind Ensemble and the Ensemble Intercontemporain. Yup, if Pierre's group plays his music, he must be worth a listen.

Daugherty's music is often infused with infectious dance rhythms, and he dishes out jazz and pop music and instrumentation generously. Lying underneath this though, is a complexity and sophistication that smells of Stravinsky, readily apparent for those who are willing to give this music a serious listen with open ears.

My favourite tracks on this disc are many. Dead Elvis, a minimalistic work for bassoon and small chamber group begins with the amplified cello playing short, rapid notes imitating the revving of a motorbike. After a series of energetic dialogues with the other instruments, the bassoon sings a grotesque love song puctuated by sour chords in strings, and later even breaks into a geeky agogo-type dance complete with bongos.

Barbie is given her spotlight in What's that spell?. Two sopranos "pose in various roles to sing about the fate of American plastic dolls." The title is taken from the chant of "American cheerleaders as they spell out the name of America's favourite toy." The first movement I found extremely funny, and it certainly amused the friends to whom I gave a preview of. The slow movement "O Ken" had me both grinning and cringing to

"Oh Keh Oh Ken, What can I do
I'm plastic just like you
I love it when we have our talks
when you and I get put back in our box."

Bad lyrics? Maybe, but it betrays a certain innocence that make me feel a tinge of guilt when I read dumb blonde jokes.

Liberace - the man who played piano on TV with flashy sequin costumes and large gem rings on this fingers that flashed each time he swept up and down the keyboard with those decorative apperggios. What better way to pay tribute than to write him a piano concerto? Le Tombeau of Liberace is a lightweight, entertaining work that I suspect will not break any fingers. Daugherty imitates Liberace's style in the piano part, and uses thematic material, inspired by various aspects of Liberace's life and performance (the piano shaped swimming pool, and the candelabra).

The odd piece in this collection is Jackie's Song, a song without words for solo cello and chamber ensemble. I'm sure the reference to the other Jackie based on choice of solo instrument is purely coincidental. This harrowingly sad piece is written in the cello's higher registers, that is one beautiful sound that never fails to move me. The soloist, the late Christopher van Kampen brings this off beautifully. Daugherty flexes his harmonic chops here, showing perhaps a serious side. This is a simple, yet exceptional piece of music that hints of what more we can hear from this composer in the many more years to come.

The playing on this disc is marvellous by any standards. Zinman and the London Sinfonietta I think showing a good affinity and sharing in the sense of fun in Daugherty's music. The recording is first-rate, check out the stereophonic symbals in Snap! The guys who did the packaging and design for the booklet deserve a special mention for creativity and capturing in images and print what is prevalant in the music.

599: 11.11.1999 ©Adrian Tan

Explore the Flying Inkpot