It opened with a growl. But as the line launched upward, the trombone erupted in a cry immediately echoed by bass clarinet, trumpet, and wordless baritone voice. The effect of Calliope’s Magic Fanfare, an arresting new work by Augusta Read Thomas, felt as powerful and intense as a punch in the gut.
These are precisely the kinds of sounds one has come to expect from one of America’s most visible and expressive composers. Thomas’s music is at once adventurous and familiar, ear-bending yet deeply personal. And at only four minutes in length, Calliope’s Magic Fanfare challenges listeners as much as it invites them in. Heard in its world premiere by the new music ensemble loadbang at Pickman Hall Saturday night, the score stands firmly alongside some of Thomas’s most colorful works, presented as part of a portrait concert by Longy Conservatory’s Divergent Studio.
Thomas conceived of Calliope after poring through loadbang’s catalogue of performances on their website. But even given the ensemble’s vast collection, she was surprised to find no fanfare in their repertoire. So, she created one, using her gifts as an orchestrator to make an unusual combination of trumpet, trombone, bass clarinet, and baritone sound both surprising and natural.
At her best, Thomas blends musical intuition and spontaneity with an exacting eye for notational detail that allows the performers to bring the music to life effortlessly. Still, her lines push musicians to their limits. In Calliope, Trumpeter Andy Kozar, trombonist William Lang, and bass clarinetist Adrián Sandí shaped angular lines with colorful effects. At its center runs a florid line for loadbang baritone Ty Bouque, whose buttery voice leaps between throaty low notes to ringing falsetto with athletic grace. The horns then work in tandem, continuing the line where Bouque left off before tossing it back to him. The score reflects superb teamwork, and loadbang played it with aplomb.
The rest of the program, performed by Longy faculty and student fellows, showcased Thomas’s chamber music and songs from the past 30 years.
A circle around the sun, a piano trio from 2000, exemplifies in microcosm Thomas’s affinity for crafting vivid sonic and visual imagery. Violinist Claudia Dorian and cellist morima created halo effects that framed pianist Audrey Puschinsky’s free-floating harmonies. Across its brief expanse, the musicians allowed the bold statements to ring like a crystal goblet. Such sounds encourage listeners to focus on the immediate moment, even as tension ensues.
By contrast, Songs Without Words, performed by trumpeter Jacob Hunkins and pianist Donald Berman, reflected warmth and delicacy. Here, the disjointed phrases emanate from simple gestures that are in turn interrupted by new ideas. Hunkins’s breathy and resonant tone never let the phrases grow too heavy. Berman’s pearly tone at the keyboard let them flow with surprising grace.
In Bell Illuminations for solo piano, Berman’s harmonies rang like distant chimes. He explored Thomas’s subtle sound world with childlike wonder. Every gesture—even the pauses between sections—moved the momentum forward, the music feeling remote yet crafted with fine detail.
Other works probed deeper sonic mysteries. Twilight Butterfly, a song for mezzo-soprano and piano, unfolded in scattered fragments. But the effect was haunting. Mezzo-soprano King Jay and pianist Puschinsky sensitively explored the short work’s enveloping sense of space.
Plucked strings from inside the piano in Among dawn flowers introduced a chant-like vocal line that repeated like a mantra over sprinkled dissonances. Soprano Chen Wine let each phrase glisten like dew drops. Berman’s piano figures wrapped her in an ethereal blanket.
D(i)agon(als) for solo clarinet sounded bold and fervent by comparison. Phrases jolted like lightning bolts, rarely coming to rest anywhere in the instrument’s range. Clarinetist Matt Dearie rendered the wide leaps and sudden dynamic changes with finesse.
Violist Nathan Gaynor made the simple lines and open harmonies of Rainbow Bridge to Paradise feel soulful in its broad tempo. So did violist Laura Avila in Dream Catcher, though mood changes between sections could have used greater commitment.
Flutist Juan Rosales performed Euterpe’s Caprice with stalwart conviction, the long notes and deft flourishes colliding with ferocity.
Intimate yet powerful in impact, the music of this portrait concert depicted a composer in constant search of the new and eloquent. And for Thomas, her work remains a way to fully experience—and thereby embrace—the world.