The Claver Recital Hall at Regis University was abuzz with excitement for the main performance of the first Recorderfest in the West, a four day conference of workshops, lectures, and performances. It was a warm evening on September the 20th, 2014 in Denver, and the recital hall reflected the weather, large and open but still intimate and inviting. This was a gathering - but, more of a celebration - of the American Recorder Society and its members, many of whom are active members of local recorder societies. With so many esteemed musicians together in one place, the concert was sure to be a delight.
Nearly all eight performers are educators and accomplished performers. The mind behind the entire event was Dr. Mark Davenport, director of the Regis Music Program and founder of the Recorder Music Center at Regis. A common question of Dr. Davenport among music students at this university is “Why the recorder?” It was in fact revealed during the evening that Dr. Davenport’s father was the first president of the American Recorder Society, giving sense to this vivacious educator’s infatuation with the recorder. Joining him in the ensemble was Laura Kuhlman, current president of the American Recorder Society, as well as Vicki Boeckman, Clea Galhano, Paul Leenhouts , Anne Timberlake, Hanneke van Proosdij, Tom Zajac, and faculty guest cellist Charles Lee. These bright musicians have dedicated their careers to the recorder, an instrument as lovely as its sound.
Period-accuracy was the goal in this concert, and to achieve it the performers used a variety of recorders. Not only did they vary in range (from very low to rather high) but also in construction, according to Davenport. The Renaissance recorder is carved from one solid piece of wood and therefore cannot be tuned. The performer must compensate by adjusting his or her fingering. However, the Baroque recorder is made of two or more pieces, which can be adjusted to be in tune with the whole ensemble. Other recorders of interest were bass and contra bass, the lowest voices. In their own time these were constructed just like other recorders; because of the great distance between the holes they were discouragingly difficult to play. The design was improved by modern creator Herbert Paetzold; instead of the curves of most recorders, Paetzold recorders have a cubic style. They are built with levers and keys like those of the saxophone, making performance on the instrument feasible. The performers exhibited amazing control of the instruments. The absence of squeaks during the performance is evidence of much dedicated practice and study. The performers had marvelous accuracy of pitch and impressive use of dynamics - changes in volume - both technically and stylistically.
Now the stage was set; the lights were up, the audience was ready, and all that remained was the anticipation of the performance at hand. All the instruments were laid out and organized on tables far upstage. Murmurs turned to applause as the performers entered and, without a word, stepped right in to their work. The ensemble played Renaissance and Baroque pieces as well as contemporary and jazz music. A remarkable performance was that of “Villarose Sarialdi” by Thomas Jennefelt (b. 1954), arranged by Dr. Davenport. As the eight performers readied their recorders, Dr. Davenport gently began to conduct the ensemble, as if coaxing the music out of the performers while trying not to frighten it away. The music began with bursts of long, low, dissonant chords, laying an ominous foundation. As the upper recorders entered, they fluttered magnificently in two harmonious parts over the darkness. Surprisingly the higher voices sounded like stringed instruments at first, an amazing testament to their versatility. Suddenly all voices joined in on plodding, dissonant chords. The sound itself seemed to walk, with one loud step followed by another completely silent one. A melody on an higher recorder soon ventured forward out of the plodding dissonance, prompting motion within the music. It felt like winter: a sluggish time, clinging to the sun and the optimism that spring will come. An ebb and flow of dynamics, as well as subtle rise and fall of tempo, gave depth to the music. While on the brink of becoming a dirge, the upper voices brought back the earlier sound of strings and the many notes in its melody brought energy back to the piece. But it came to an end soon thereafter, with all voices together on a long, dissonant chord.
The evening was filled with moments of contemplation, like those brought forward during “Villarose Sarialdi,” as well as those of laughter, especially during the whimsical and Andean-sounding “Tico-tico no fúba” by Zequinha de Abreu (1880-1935) and Gershwin’s (1890-1937) “Summertime.” The performers were very invested in and intimate with the music, each other, and the audience. This evening was less an exhibition of talent and art and more a coming-together of old friends, like minds, and the time-tested beauty that is the recorder. Another year stands between the Regis University community and the next Recorderfest in the West; the joyous anticipation remains.
Period-accuracy was the goal in this concert, and to achieve it the performers used a variety of recorders. Not only did they vary in range (from very low to rather high) but also in construction, according to Davenport. The Renaissance recorder is carved from one solid piece of wood and therefore cannot be tuned. The performer must compensate by adjusting his or her fingering. However, the Baroque recorder is made of two or more pieces, which can be adjusted to be in tune with the whole ensemble. Other recorders of interest were bass and contra bass, the lowest voices. In their own time these were constructed just like other recorders; because of the great distance between the holes they were discouragingly difficult to play. The design was improved by modern creator Herbert Paetzold; instead of the curves of most recorders, Paetzold recorders have a cubic style. They are built with levers and keys like those of the saxophone, making performance on the instrument feasible. The performers exhibited amazing control of the instruments. The absence of squeaks during the performance is evidence of much dedicated practice and study. The performers had marvelous accuracy of pitch and impressive use of dynamics - changes in volume - both technically and stylistically.
Now the stage was set; the lights were up, the audience was ready, and all that remained was the anticipation of the performance at hand. All the instruments were laid out and organized on tables far upstage. Murmurs turned to applause as the performers entered and, without a word, stepped right in to their work. The ensemble played Renaissance and Baroque pieces as well as contemporary and jazz music. A remarkable performance was that of “Villarose Sarialdi” by Thomas Jennefelt (b. 1954), arranged by Dr. Davenport. As the eight performers readied their recorders, Dr. Davenport gently began to conduct the ensemble, as if coaxing the music out of the performers while trying not to frighten it away. The music began with bursts of long, low, dissonant chords, laying an ominous foundation. As the upper recorders entered, they fluttered magnificently in two harmonious parts over the darkness. Surprisingly the higher voices sounded like stringed instruments at first, an amazing testament to their versatility. Suddenly all voices joined in on plodding, dissonant chords. The sound itself seemed to walk, with one loud step followed by another completely silent one. A melody on an higher recorder soon ventured forward out of the plodding dissonance, prompting motion within the music. It felt like winter: a sluggish time, clinging to the sun and the optimism that spring will come. An ebb and flow of dynamics, as well as subtle rise and fall of tempo, gave depth to the music. While on the brink of becoming a dirge, the upper voices brought back the earlier sound of strings and the many notes in its melody brought energy back to the piece. But it came to an end soon thereafter, with all voices together on a long, dissonant chord.
The evening was filled with moments of contemplation, like those brought forward during “Villarose Sarialdi,” as well as those of laughter, especially during the whimsical and Andean-sounding “Tico-tico no fúba” by Zequinha de Abreu (1880-1935) and Gershwin’s (1890-1937) “Summertime.” The performers were very invested in and intimate with the music, each other, and the audience. This evening was less an exhibition of talent and art and more a coming-together of old friends, like minds, and the time-tested beauty that is the recorder. Another year stands between the Regis University community and the next Recorderfest in the West; the joyous anticipation remains.