has an impressive catalogue of orchestral works, as well as four string
quartets to his credit. We talked by Skype on May 3, 2010.
TM: You were born in Manchester, New Hampshire, and grew up
in northern Vermont. What was the musical environment like in your family? Were
there uncles and aunts that made music? Grandparents? Your parents?
PJ: My parents were not musical, although my father liked
to listen to classical music. Neither one played an instrument, or was involved
in classical music in any way. Whenever we would have a big family
get-together, on my father’s side all my aunts and uncles played
instruments by ear. They all played guitar and piano, and we would have these
family sing-alongs, with both English and French folk and pop tunes. My
ancestry is French-Canadian. Everybody in the family, in my parent’s
generation, had English as their first language, but their second language was
French, and they all speak fairly fluently. With my generation we lost that,
and had to study it in school like everybody else. Those family get-togethers
were some of the first musical experiences that I had.
Growing up in Vermont I was part of the Vermont Youth Orchestra, and played
percussion instruments, but I was primarily a pianist, and eventually I played
a concerto with the orchestra. I grew up playing percussion instruments in band
in middle school and high school, because I was primarily a pianist. They
didn’t need a pianist — they needed something else. I was always
good at the mallet instruments, because they were set up like keyboards.
Classical music was an important part of my upbringing, because I was pretty
serious about piano — entering competitions, playing all of the classical
composers — Bach, Mozart, Beethoven — as well as popular music
— I was really into the Beatles. Pretty early on I knew that I wanted to
write music and be a composer. I started writing little imitative piano pieces
for myself to play. Later, when we started playing Copland in the Youth
Orchestra, that was basically my introduction to his music, though I had played
some of his piano pieces — the Passacaglia, Cat and Mouse. He
became my hero at the time, because he was the only American composer I knew of
that was making a living writing concert music. I remember distinctly that when
I was a senior in high school I heard George Crumb’s music — his
piece for two pianos and two percussion called Music for a Summer
Evening. That was a life-changing experience for me — that piece
just blew me away. Eventually I ended up studying with him at the University of
Pennsylvania in graduate school. Before that I went to undergraduate school at
Oberlin. He was certainly a big influence on me. Other musical influences would
be Stravinsky, Messiaen, Debussy, Ravel — a lot of the French
TM: How long had you lived in New Hampshire before moving
PJ: I moved there very early on, when I was five or six
TM: When you say northern Vermont, is that what people
refer to as the “Northern Kingdom”?
PJ: I grew up in south Burlington, on Lake Champlain, in
the western part of the state. The Northeast Kingdom is close to where my folks
are now — it’s the very northeast corner of the state, that borders
TM: What was the musical culture like in Burlington? I
imagine that the city has a liberal, university atmosphere, with its
representative being the only socialist in Congress.
PJ: At that time Bernie Sanders was the Mayor of
Burlington, which is how he got his start. The musical culture centered on the
Vermont Symphony, which played at an old movie theater called the Flynn
Theater, in downtown Burlington. They still do. There was the Vermont Youth
Orchestra, and every high school had its own music program, usually with band
TM: How long had the Vermont Symphony been around?
PJ: They have been around a long, long time — I think
they started in the twenties or thirties.
TM: Presently the director is Jaime Laredo. Who was
directing when you were growing up?
PJ: Efrain Guigui. As a high-schooler, I would usher at the
Vermont Symphony concerts so that I could get in for free — that was part
of my introduction to the orchestral literature. A couple of years ago they
commissioned me to write a piece for their fall tour. Every fall, during
foliage season, they do a tour of Vermont, where they play in these old opera
houses — every town in Vermont used to have its own opera house. They are
wonderful little halls, and a lot of them have been renovated. The orchestra
tours to ten different towns, and always commission a new piece. They
commissioned a string orchestra piece from me, and I got to travel with them on
their two-week tour, where Jaime Laredo also did the Four Seasons as soloist
TM: How big are the halls?
PJ: Some of them are smaller, and might fit four hundred,
and some larger, and might fit four to six hundred people.
TM: You must be among a small contingent of native Vermont
PJ: David Rakowski grew up in Vermont. I remember Larry
Reed, whom I believe is still at the University of Vermont. Because I was
serious about composition, I would go to him for advice before I went off to
college. There are also a couple of composers who have been associated with
TM: There is an old saying in Vermont (about
out-of-staters) that even if a kitten is born in the oven, you don’t call
it a biscuit. Does that describe Vermont for you?
PJ: I had a wonderful piano teacher, Arlene Cleary, whom I
studied with from the moment I got to Vermont till the time I went off to
college. She was one of the most energetic people I ever met, and really
encouraging, not only about piano, but about composition as well, helping me to
develop that talent, and pointing me to some different people in areas where
she might not have had the expertise, to people like Larry Reed, at the
University. It’s a small, tightly-knit community.
TM: Was there popular music that you found appealing or
were involved in?
PJ: I also played in jazz band as a pianist, and as I said
the one popular music group I was really into was the Beatles. I always liked
their music, and especially their more experimental things, like George
Harrison’s use of Indian music.
TM: What led you to decide to go to Oberlin? Were you
already planning to do composition, or were you thinking about performance?
PJ: I was thinking about both, and I did both. I was
studying piano as well as composition. By the time I went to grad school, I had
decided that being a concert pianist was not the life that I wanted — I
wanted to concentrate on composition. I had had some friend who went to
Oberlin, and I visited and auditioned at a number of different schools. Coming
from Vermont, and being isolated from the wider musical scene in the United
States, I had no idea what was going on. Oberlin seemed to be a good choice
— I didn’t want to go to a big city, and I was still only
seventeen. It was in a small town, but yet close enough to Cleveland, so that
you could go into the city for concerts if you wanted to, although there was a
ton of stuff going on there on campus. It seemed like a nice environment in
which to study music and be serious about it.
TM: Who did you study composition with at Oberlin?
PJ: I studied with just about everybody who was there at
the time. Ed Miller, Richard Hoffman, who was a relative of Schoenberg, Randy
Coleman, who was an experimental composer. I studied piano with a professor,
Sedmara Rutstein, who was steeped in the Russian tradition. I was exposed to
various different approaches. Ed Miller was into jazz, but was very serious
about new music as well. Hoffman was a twelve-tone composer, and Coleman was in
the Cagean experimental vein. When I arrived at Oberlin, I discovered that I
was the most conservative composer around. It gave me a chance to really widen
my vocabulary, and to try out different things.
TM: What had your vocabulary been? Who were your models for
composition before you arrived at Oberlin?
PJ: I had played a lot of Prokofiev on the piano, knew a
little bit of George Crumb, done a lot of Copland, Samuel Barber, Dello Joio
— conventional twentieth-century composers. My music was
quasi-neo-classical, neo-romantic — I had dabbled with twelve-tone, but
it always came back to tonality.
TM: Who among those teachers at Oberlin was most appealing?
Hoffman was a very important teacher, and perhaps the latest of the Schoenberg
disciples to be still active.
PJ: They all brought something different to the table. I
would say Ed Miller and Richard Hoffman were the most influential, because I
studied with them the longest.
TM: What appealed to you in particular in terms of
PJ: At that time I was exposed to a lot of different
composers, since a lot of people visited Oberlin. I would say that those who I
felt a real affinity for included George Crumb and Joseph Schwantner. Others,
as well, including Chris Rouse. I was pushing myself to try out different
things. I wrote a completely twelve-tone work for the first time when I was a
junior. I was trying out different instrumental ensembles — I wrote a
piece that included electric guitar and electric bass, along with more standard
instruments, and there was another piece which included electronics.
TM: What would you describe as your opus one, and why?
Something from your time at Oberlin? At Penn?
PJ: Probably a piece I wrote at Oberlin that our
contemporary ensemble performed, for about fifteen instruments. I really felt
that it worked well, and it was chosen for a symposium. Larry Radcliffe, who
was the director of the contemporary ensemble, conducted it. It was my first
big success, and my first large ensemble piece that I was satisfied with at the
TM: What is it called?
PJ: It is called Memorial, and it’s not
published, so in that sense it’s not opus 1. If I had to pick a piece
that is available, it would probably be Songs of Gibran, which I wrote
in graduate school. It’s a piece for mezzo-soprano and small ensemble
based on texts by Khalil Gibran.
TM: Why Gibran?
PJ: They were short lyrical texts that I found easy to deal
with vocally. There was something spiritual about his poetry that I really
liked. These particular poems were written early on in his career, and simply
called songs. They called out to be treated in a musical way.
TM: He is a poet that is so well known to the American
public, although perhaps more so earlier than today. And yet he somehow belongs
to the Arabic cultural sphere. How do you see his position in American
PJ: I can’t speak about his position in American
culture, but his writing spoke to me personally.
TM: How would you describe your idiom for this set of
PJ: I was studying with George Crumb at the time, so there
is a lot of Crumb influence in the piece. He has many works for voice with
small ensemble. And there is Messiaen there as well.
TM: Who else did you study with at Penn?
PJ: Dick Wernick was also there, and Jim Primosch, and Jay
Reise. I studied with all of them.
TM: Were there important colleagues who were fellow
students of yours?
PJ: We had a lot of talented students who have done well
for themselves since. Oswaldo Golijov conducted one of my pieces. We did all of
our concerts at Curtis, since we basically had no performance program at Penn,
but there was an exchange agreement with Curtis. Alan Gilbert was a conductor
at Curtis at the time. He didn’t do any of my pieces, but he did some
pieces by other Penn composers while he was there. Jennifer Higdon was there,
David Crumb (George Crumb’s son, also a composer, who now teaches at the
University of Oregon), Ricardo Zohn-Muldoon, Michael Friday, David Lefkowitz,
TM: What would be a representative piece from this
PJ: I wrote an orchestra piece called Evocation,
which was my first full orchestra, and I got a really good recording of it with
the Curtis orchestra. That got me the New York Youth Symphony commission while
I was there. Evocation and Songs of Gibran are two of the
more important things I did while I was there.
TM: Two schools of making a piece: an architectural
approach, where the general outlines of the work are the first things to be
conceived, with the details then fitting into the shape; a more novelistic
approach, where the piece is built upward from the details, with a sense of the
total structure coming later. Which camp do you belong to?
PJ: I definitely fall into the first category, although
once I have that I start fooling around with smaller ideas, and seeing how I
can develop them. I try to have a picture of the whole, and I encourage my
students to do that too, fairly early on in the process. Then you can work on
timing, and the process of timing events. That is something that I learned very
strongly from George Crumb’s music, which is almost totally about events
occurring, and when and where they come in, and how they are timed. His sense
of timing is just impeccable. If you can be successful with that, your music is
much more convincing.
I try to start out with some sort of outline in terms of time. Is this a
five-minute piece, or a twenty-minute piece? Is it a multi-movement piece or
straight ahead? And these things can change as the ideas warrant, as you work
on them. But I try to have a good idea of that, so that I can keep that in my
mind all through the time in which I am working on the piece. Then I can set
about thinking about the smaller-scale structures — the phrase structure
— where does this phrase end, where does the other begin? How does this
event happen, where does this section end, where does the other begin? How is
it timed? Is this one too long, is this one too short? Does it need to be
developed? That is pretty much the way that I work.
TM: What would you say is the thing that generates the
piece? Do you work from a musical idea, a visual image, a literary
PJ: It varies — I have done all of the above. I wrote
a piece called Icefield Sonnets for the Ying Quartet, which was based
on the poetry of Anthony Hawley, a set of sonnets which talk about nature
scenes in very cold climates. That set of poems was inspired by his time at
Banff, Canada. Growing up in Vermont, I could really relate to these cold
winter scenes. Those conjured up certain musical ideas for me. I wrote a piece
for the Albany Symphony based on the historic stained-glass windows by Louis
Tiffany which can be found in some Albany churches. Those were a direct visual
inspiration. I just did a piece with a visual artist in Montreal named Jean
Detheux, who does computer-animated films that are completely abstract, like
looking at an abstract colorful painting that moves through time.
Other pieces get their starts from purely musical ideas. I just wrote a
cello sonata for David Finkel and Wu Han which is called Sonata for Cello
and Piano — it doesn’t have an extra-musical association,
TM: Please talk about In Aeternam, which seems to
have been exceptionally successful. What is the reference in the title?
PJ: The reference is to a death in the family. My brother
and his wife — their first baby died at birth, and that type of thing
does not happen very often these days. This happened a long time ago, long
before I wrote the piece. It stems from that, although I don’t think one
needs to know that to enjoy the piece, to understand the piece musically. That
piece follows the same kind of form that I was using in that piece I mentioned
as my opus one, from Oberlin. In basic terms, you have a slow-fast-slow
structure, an arch form where ideas A and B are in the slow section, idea C is
in the fast section, although they are typically related thematically, then the
slow section returns, and you have idea B, then idea A. I have used the same
form for many of my works, and it seems to work very well. That was the first
piece that I wrote for the California Symphony when I was appointed their Young
American Composer-in-Residence. It was a three-year residence, and that was the
first piece that I wrote there. I remember that the conductor had asked me to
write a piece that their audiences could appreciate — in other words,
make it accessible. This is probably the first piece where I was really trying
to make it a little more accessible to a general audience. The piece went on to
win the BBC Master Prize, which is why it has gotten a little bit of attention
and some success.
TM: Your site mentions spiritual concerns, and your work
list includes the Symphonia Sacra and Les Espaces Infinies
[for orchestra and chamber orchestra, respectively]. As someone who has sung
choral music for various denominations, I notice that is an area you have not
PJ: I am Catholic, and the liturgical music I heard growing
up had a big influence on my writing. There are several works, Symphonia
Sacra being one of them, where I incorporate Gregorian chant into the
piece. I am involved in our church here, and I sing in the choir, but the kind
of music we do is not really classically based. Unless you are at a big church,
which has a big choir with singers who are not necessarily professionals, but
who are fairly well-trained — I can’t do anything on that level
where I am right now, but I would like to. We have an excellent choir here at
Rice, and I would love to write them a piece, but I just have to do it. I
always seem to be writing a chamber music work or an orchestra piece.
TM: The Catholic Church, with a millennial tradition of
great music and great architectural spaces, seems to have abandoned this in the
last forty years, at least in the United States. Can something be done about
PJ: I don’t know. I spent a year at the American
Academy in Rome back in 2000. I was surprised to find that even at the Vatican
I was not at all impressed by the choir. They are just amateurs doing it. I
don’t know what has happened. The music has become mostly folk or even
pop music, because that is what the people know. To sing real classical music
— masses by Mozart — you need to have a larger church and people
with some expertise.
TM: People who are both fine musicians and devout Catholics
no longer have a comfortable home in the US.
Could you talk about recent or upcoming projects?
PJ: I am trying to finish a piece for the Emerson Quartet
which they will premiere in Houston this coming season. That will be my fifth
string quartet. When people ask, I say yes.
After that I will be writing a piece for the Music from Copland House
Ensemble. The Copland House is Copland’s estate, about 30 minutes north
of New York City, near Peekskill. It now serves as a composer retreat. There is
one composer living there each month. I went there a couple of years ago. You
get the house to yourself, and Copland’s piano, and Copland’s
workspace, they give you meals and provide a stipend for you. They have their
own ensemble of five players — flute, clarinet, violin, cello and
TM: That’s an unusual format for an ensemble.
PJ: They are becoming more well known. Derek Bermel, who is
also a composer, plays clarinet in the ensemble. I am also working on a piece
for the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, for clarinet, violin and
piano, which they will be taking to London with them. After that I will be
working on a piece for the Arizona Friend of Chamber Music, for the Tokyo
Quartet, which looks like it will be a piano quintet. So there is lots of
chamber music coming up.
TM: Another area for growth, since you have a fair amount
of vocal music, would be music for the stage. Is that something that appeals to
PJ: Yes, I would love to write an opera, and Houston Grand
Opera has a great track record of commissioning new opera.
TM: You are just waiting for the call.
TM: Any final thoughts?
PJ: I have been at Rice for fourteen years, and my time
here has been a big influence. The orchestra program is wonderful, the chamber
music program is great, and the opera program. The school keeps getting better
TM: The Houston climate is a little different from where
you grew up.
PJ: Another Vermont connection is that the Lane Series has
commissioned a piece as a retirement for Jane Ambrose, who is retiring as
director of the series at the University of Vermont. And I will be going to New
York for the award ceremony at the American Academy of Arts and Letters —
I was fortunate to get one this year. And in August In Aeternam will
be performed at the Cabrillo Festival with Marin Alsop.
TM: A busy summer.
product_title=An Interview with Pierre Jalbert
product_by=Tom Moore, interviewer
product_id=Above: Pierre Jalbert