John Mackey Bothered

I bothered to review some band music.

Few composers of mass-consumption symphonic wind literature find that sweet spot between accessibility and originality. On one side, you get composers like Robert W. Smith. He is one of those individuals who, all notions of pedagogical writing aside, has managed to conjure an entire career from writing the same piece over and over again. His shtick has aged like milk: a legato introduction precedes a Schenkerian outline accompanied by ostinati in the woodwinds and "extended techniques" by the percussionists before a timpani solo, brass fanfare, and final perfect authentic cadence in an invariably major key. The only work of Smith's that has any vestige of originality was his Divine Comedy symphony, and in a Vivaldian feat of rehashing he managed to create the Odyssey (subtitled "Dante Returns to Ithaca").

On the other hand, you have composers like Frank Ticheli, who after long careers of delightful and ravishing original compositions decide it's time to push the envelope and write twelve tone music based on 19th century English transcendentalists: 2010 left us with The Tyger, a work whose publicity loudly trumpeted the fact that it was both atonal and a grade six (!). We expect both of these things from Ticheli (Blue Shades, anyone?), and while The Tyger is a quality piece of music, it's not quite 1930's Vienna. Ticheli also has the benefit of Manhattan Beach singing paeans to him with every new release--perhaps the problem here is Manhattan Beach's staff publicists, not Ticheli himself. Nevertheless, you can see a new Ticheli work coming from the cloud of advertising surrounding it.

John Mackey, however, is something different entirely. A student of Donald Erb and John Corigliano, his music reflects the eclectic New York school of American composition embodied in the music of Corigliano himself as well as the master's other protégés Eric Whitacre, Steven Bryant, and Jonathan Newman. He and his classmates have all managed to find the aforementioned sweet spot in their respective niches--Whitacre the golden-tressed Prometheus of choral music and Bryant the apostle of electronics-and-wind-band have each made important contributions (yes, more important than Virtual Choir 2.0) but are largely entrenched in their chosen ensembles. Newman and Mackey, however, are more eclectic, with significant works for orchestra and various chamber groups among their oeuvre. Mackey's repertoire alone lacks any form of vocal music, but his specialization in instrumental "Napoleonic Testosterone Music" has allowed him to develop a refreshingly unique sound among today's glut of band music.

Most interesting among Mackey's recent works are his two concerti: an inventive-yet-barren-titled concerto for soprano saxophone and winds (2007) and a trombone concerto entitled Harvest (2009) which takes Dionysian practices as its point of departure. Both pieces demonstrate Mackey's mastery of the tonal palette which symphonic winds and percussion afford, his gift for slim and sticky melodies, and most importantly his profound sense of architectonics. This last aspect, more than anything, is what makes Mackey's music "Mackian:" even in the midst of his swirling clouds of ostinati and thunderous bass lines that give audiences what they think they want, Mackey's two concerti demonstrate a sensibility towards formal organization that prevents either from becoming formulaic.

Harvest accomplishes this more strongly than the soprano saxophone concerto because of its unified musical narrative that happened to lend itself to a concerto format--the trombonist is Dionysus, the band ripieno is the congregation of frothing Bacchae who tear him to shreds at the eponymous harvest. Meanwhile, the soprano saxophone concerto allows the instrument to function more idiomatically and is more of a "concerto" in the traditional sense, moving the solo and ensemble through various moods that embody different aspects of the solo instrument itself (the inner movements are titled "Felt," "Metal," and "Wood"): the saxophone is the narrative, in this case. Both works are important additions to the literature for their respective instruments.

Much more remains to be said about these two pieces as well as Mackey's larger oeuvre, which continues its prodigious and promising expansion. Mackey has hit his stride at this point, but it remains to be seen whether he will continue to whet his compositional edge or begin a downward spiral into recycling formulas. Mackey bothers in spite of band: let us hope he continues.

Both pieces (scores, recordings, and Mackey's own commentary) can be found here: http://ostimusic.com/WindWorks.html