Philip Glass: Symphony No. 11 — Premiere Impressions
After the completion of his ninth symphony in 2011, Philip Glass felt that he needed to complete a tenth to avoid the “curse” of not getting past nine numbered and completed symphonies alleged to have dogged composers writing after Beethoven and his mighty nine. Of course that is simply a myth and many composers of symphonies move past nine without any problem. The idea may have been originally promulgated by Gustav Mahler. He resisted calling Das Lied von der Erde—a song-based symphony—his ninth, and then he died in the process of working on his tenth (which received a splendid completion by musicologist Deryck Cooke), seemingly confirming his superstition.
So, Glass swiftly completed a tenth symphony in six weeks before the January 2012 premiere of his ninth on his 75th birthday. This work is based on an expanded orchestration of an earlier occasion piece from 2008, Los paisajes del rio, which was written to accompany fireworks for the 2008 Expo Zaragoza. The symphony is thus a bit lighter and more programmatic than its two very dense and abstract predecessors which had departed from the text based symphonies 5-7. With that conceptual barrier out of the way, there was now a freedom to write more symphonies in their own time.
Thus Glass composed his eleventh symphony during 2016, and this new work is more substantial than the curse-beating tenth, standing as a fine companion to the eighth (2005) and the ninth (2011). For those unfamiliar with these works, the eighth has an aggressive and at times angry sounding first movement which is as long as the second and third movements combined. Having a lengthy first movement is not unusual as Mahler and Shostakovich did so in several works. The second movement is a passacaglia, a form also found in the Shostakovich eighth, but the very brief 7 minute finale is the striking aspect here to this 40 minute piece. The ninth also has three movements, more typically equal in proportion, and lasts about 50 minutes, with a 20 minute middle slow movement that has an agitated central section, framed by outer movements of about 15 minutes each in duration. Its finale climaxes in a dissonant chord, a nod perhaps to Mahler’s tenth and Copland’s third, following which the music treads the same haunted landscape Shostakovich explored in the finales of both his fourth and eighth symphonies, of ever-quieting thematic repetition and dissipation.
Glass, like other major composers, has made each symphony a unique traversal, from works employing themes of musicians he admires (Brian Eno and David Bowie in the first and fourth) and those employing texts presented by a solo vocalist (Symphony No. 6 “Plutonian Ode”) to choral works—the massive Symphony No. 5 “Requiem, Bardo, Nirmanakaya” and Symphony No. 7 “A Toltec Symphony” as well as abstract works such as the second and the third, the latter orchestrated for a smaller string ensemble.
In the eleventh he does not disappoint and brings something new into the soundscape. Opening with a prominent piano in the sonority, the musical language is abstract, akin to that in the eighth and ninth, and one can find Glass examining some earlier forms of his expression as well. There are prominent low brass parts with a whiff of Bruckner as well as what seemed a nod to Górecki’s third in a slower passage for chordal strings with piano. Interestingly, that composer referenced John Adams in the scherzo of his fourth Symphony, whose orchestration was completed after his death by Górecki’s son.
Overall, the eleventh symphony is quite densely orchestrated throughout, and one finds Glass’ language to be what one would expect from the past few years. That Glass alludes, rather fleetingly, to other composers he admires makes for interesting surprises. The use of prominent brass and percussion at times evokes Ive’s work, as if DECORATION DAY might have come to mind during the work’s creation. Like the ninth, the middle movement begins and ends with slower-paced music, and the central part is more agitated. There are string passages which struck me as having an almost “Hollywood” character, a touch of pop romanticism. Most fascinating is the finale which begins with a battery of pitchless percussion. The entire percussion section is given vigorous attention and it is prominently featured throughout the course of this energetic movement which builds to a rousing, upbeat conclusion. I didn’t time the performance, which seemed a bit over 30 minutes in duration. Some audience members burst into spontaneous applause between moments which prompted conductor Dennis Russell Davies to cut it off by emphatically shouting “Thank you!” before he began the finale.
While both the eighth and ninth have more tragic and contemplative aspects, the eleventh is primarily outgoing and upbeat and thus offers an athletic and celebratory mood, which made for a proper way to mark the composer’s 80th birthday. For me, Glass’ eighth and ninth symphonies are pinnacles in his efforts in this form, and now the eleventh joins them as a suitable robust companion that I think will repay repeated listenings and in-depth study. I look forward to its release as it will reach many aficionados of Glass as well as those who appreciate the continued evolution of the symphony as a powerful means of expression in the 21st Century.
—Magus Peter H. Gilmore
