Adams is an interesting fellow. Usually considered one of the Minimalists, in fact he tends to not quite fit into any specific artistic movement - that description has more to do with his artistic development than with his actual music, particularly his more recent work. While it certainly does employ many Minimalist techniques, it has come to do so in a fashion quite different from Riley, Glass, or Reich: As they did, Adams received his early training in the strict Serialism of Fifties and Sixties academic composition. As they did, he came to recognize that as an artistic dead end. As they did, he found his way to Minimalism as an antidote. But he came to treat it not as a revolution, a movement to reinvent music by deconstructing it to its barest essentials, but as a road back to tonality and the 19th Century symphonic tradition, and as a fresh way of approaching that tradition.
An illustration of this comes from Harmonielehre, a pivotal work for him: In the mid-Eighties, Adams was plagued by a year-and-a-half case of writers' block. His early, fairly strict Minimalist style had hit a dead end, and he seemed to have nothing further to say. Composing this piece, a three-movement symphony in all but name, broke that block. It forms a stylistic bridge between the Minimalism he had adopted and the 19th Century late-Romantic tradition he loved, not only for itself, but for how its harmonic vocabulary underlay much jazz and pop music.
He's one of the very few Americans making his living entirely as a classical composer - he does not teach, although he has, and does not write movie scores, although he has done that a little as well. Accomplishing this has involved succeeding at two not-particularly-easy tasks: First, earning a measure of respect as an artist from his fellow professionals in the arts, notably the orchestra conductors and opera directors who program performances, and the foundations and performing arts boards who commission new works - enough respect that they will play his music or hire him to write more of it. And second, earning enough popularity with the concert-going public that performing an Adams piece might actually put bums in seats. Or, at least, won't scare away those who came to hear Mozart.
Now that doesn't necessarily equate to musical quality. Popularity with the public may not mean much beyond a certain gift for the obvious. Respect from one's fellows can be as much a matter of politics and professionalism - being easy to work with, able to meet deadlines, a good collaborator, and willing to shmooze wealthy donors - as actual musical greatness. But on the other hand, symphony and opera leaders do know quite a bit about music. A few ingratiating tunes and a few trendy musical gimmicks, even if packaged with an ingratiating personality, only cut a limited amount of ice with them. Which is a roundabout way of saying there’s got to be something there, or he wouldn’t have gotten as far as he has.
Personally, I find his music spotty, but very good when it’s “on” – as it is in Harmonielehre, portions of his opera Doctor Atomic, and the four-minute Short Ride in a Fast Machine. When not “on”, it can be a bit dull. Also, it is rarely shockingly original – although Adams sees himself more as a “summing-up” composer like Brahms, who used an existing vocabulary well, than as a pioneer like Wagner or Debussy. For an example, doesn’t Short Ride…:
sound rather like this?
So what do you think of Adams?
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