Houston Grand Opera Premiere
Iran meets Houston: Greg Spears' The Bricklayer discovers beauty in the face ofterror
Greg Spears is preparing for the premiere of The Bricklayer, a commission fromHouston Grand Opera's community engagement division, HGOco.
With a libretto by Farnoosh Moshiri, the chamber opera gallivants to Iran for across-generational dramatic tale suffused with grief, pain, hope and healing.
Houston Grand Opera's The Bricklayer premieres on Thursday at 8 p.m. at WorthamTheater Center. Tickets are $12.25 and can be purchased online or by calling713-228-6737.
When we were students together at the Eastman School of Music, I didn't know Greg Spears' music very well — winds didn't associate with composers in fear that we would be roped into performing one of their composition experiments. Aside from mastering concerti and nailing orchestral excerpts, plus the required undergrad diversions, there wasn't time left for much of anything optional.
Thirteen years later, other than a hint of gray near his temples, Spears hasn't changed one bit. The 34-year-old Virginia-native exudes the same energy, sparkling curiosity and hunger for learning that he did while a student and sports the proper composer's satchel wherever he goes.
Spears is in Houston preparing for the Thursday premiere of The Bricklayer, a commission from Houston Grand Opera's community engagement division, HGOco. The Bricklayer adds to the company's growing opus via Song of Houston, an initiative catering to the diverse cultural make-up of the city. Through Song of Houston, East + West was launched in 2010 to subsidize the creation of chamber operas that unearth hidden stories of immigrants and war refugees in the Asian community.
East + West introduced Jack Perla's Chinese-infusedCourtside and Franghiz Alizadeh's Azerbaijan-themedYour Name Means the Sea.
With a libretto by Farnoosh Moshiri, The Bricklayer gallivants to Iran for a cross-generational dramatic tale suffused with grief, pain, hope and healing. For the Iranian-born writer, the story is personal and mirrors her journey to Houston in 1983 after the overthrow of the Shah in 1979. Her parents followed years later.
But for Spears, it's a whole new world.
Over mugs of Saint Arnold beer and pomegranate margaritas at The Grove, I caught up with my long-lost college friend to fill in the blanks moving on from Rochester, N.Y., to Denmark to study minimalism, to Yale and Princeton to landing in Brooklyn and to taking on this big HGO gig.
CultureMap: As a composer formerly immersed in Danish minimalism and early music, how do you begin crafting a score that nods to a culture seemingly far removed from yours? Assuming you don't have Persian roots, what's your access point into finding a voice that's genuine, honest and respectful?
Greg Spears: I started by doing lots of listening, and Farnoosh suggested where I could begin. Two Persian singers that caught my ear were Shahram Nazeri and Mohammad Reza Shajarian.
Rather than studying Persian music history, theory and harmony in an attempt to recreate its essence, I sought to find the intersection between Persian music, my compositions and works familiar to me. When I found areas where they both resonated, I knew how to move forward with The Bricklayer.
The Bricklayer is a symbol of the character of Iran. He is an ambiguous and mysterious representation of the spirit of the people.
What I admire about Persian music is how melodies are decorated. Tahrir-style vocalizations — which sound somewhat like yodeling to the western ear — add ornamented figurations similar to an upper neighbor note. My music in the opera does a lot of that, except in the character of the child. That's to distinguish between the perspectives of the Houston and Iranian-born generations.
Then I expanded the use of the Tahrir embellishment. I made the intervals larger to echo the emotional content of each scene, sometimes they are repeated, in some instances I slowed them down to imbue classical sonorities with pop.
CM: Where did you find common ground?
GS: Listen to Monteverdi or music at the cusp of the Renaissance, prior to the Baroque. You will encounter music that almost seems like a combination of eastern and western styles ingrained in the melodic line. I derived the harmony from music of the Caucasus region, which reminded me of works by Aram Khachaturian. I studied how he harmonized folk music and borrowed some of his tactics.
Farnoosh listened to my music and could tell I am very much influenced by Stravinsky. That she's very knowledgeable of western classical music helped immensely. Russia was our musical meeting place.
CM: For the orchestration, do you call on traditional Persian instruments or do you translate the sounds for their modern orchestral equivalents, which certainly can be done with extended techniques?
GS: The chamber opera uses a combination: Ney (Persian flute), which Farnoosh requested, violin, cello, clarinet and piano. The piano also imitates the sound of the Persian santoor (an ancient stringed instrument similar to a dulcimer).
The first time we hear the ney is at the beginning. Its sound is associated with the character of the Bricklayer, who's not the protagonist but a vision of Mr. Parvin.
In The Bricklayer, I see my collaboration with Farnoosh as truly an "East meets West" project. The process mirrors the end product.
CM: Then who is the Bricklayer and what's his function in the narrative?
GS: The Bricklayer is a symbol of the character of Iran. He is an ambiguous and mysterious representation of the spirit of the people. Think of the worker who's laying bricks and building walls, perhaps the Wall of the Almighty, against which some of the characters face execution. He can put up walls and tear them down.
The Bricklayer sings beautifully. I cast him as a tenor, just like Mr. Parvin, so when they sing together and in canon, their vocal lines can intertwine and be connected musically, at times confusing one for the other.
CM: Knowing that this was an HGOco production, for Houston Grand Opera's community engagement arm, did your compositional approach change? Is the musical language in The Bricklayer more accessible than in your other works?
GS: The only way I know how to reach a community is to present the best music I can possibly write. Sure, there were some parameters in the commission that I had to take into consideration — like length of time. But if I could write a piece that Farnoosh loved . . . that's all I thought about.
In contrast, I felt a heavy responsibility to the words and to the person who wrote them down. We had an instant personal connection. We spoke over the phone in August, met in Houston in October and November. When I brought a draft and sang through the score at the piano for her, I encouraged Farnoosh to give feedback often.
We ended up with music that is not rushed. The opening aria has big chords that persist for five minutes. That speaks to me coming out of a post-minimal tradition, which is also closely connected to the pacing I felt in Persian music.
CM: Is this the first time you had to connect with a world unknown to you through music?
GS: No. I was a composer-in-residence at a mental hospital in southern New Jersey. I had to craft a piece based on that experience while respecting the caretakers, patients and doctors. I was very proud that I was able to connect with a world from which I was isolated.
The task begins with discerning what's happening behind and in between the words of the libretto. Now, I teach a writing seminar called "Music and Madness" at Princeton— yes the word "madness" is loaded with problematic meanings.
The way I read the libretto, I believe it shows how you can respond to difficult situations. You have the option to respond with art and beauty, even in the face of horror.
In The Bricklayer, I see my collaboration with Farnoosh as truly an "East meets West" project. The process mirrors the end product. That's what jazzes me about these partnerships: The Bricklayer was an organic way to learn about someone else's world.
CM: It's inevitable. With every work of art that's immersed in current events, there's the question of whether it attempts to layer a political message. Is The Bricklayer a politically-charged opera?
GS: That's more of a question for Farnoosh because my goal is to tell her story. I think, at the end of the day, it's a piece that suggest an alternative response to violence.
In one pivotal scene, Mr. Parvin is preoccupied with how his son was executed. He finds relief when he learns from the Bricklayer that his son sang louder than everyone else. It's about the power of the human voice. That's opera. The name of the daughter, Shahrzad, is associated with Scheherazade, the princess (from One Thousand and One Nights) who tells stories to save her life.
The way I read the libretto, I believe it shows how you can respond to difficult situations. You have the option to respond with art and beauty, even in the face of horror.
Houston Grand Opera's The Bricklayer premieres Thursday at 8 p.m. at Wortham Theater Center. Tickets are $12.25 and can be purchased online or by calling 713-228-6737.
Free performances continue at 8 p.m. Friday at the Arab American Cultural & Community Center (10555 Stancliff Road), 4 p.m. Sunday as part of the Persian Nowruz Festival at Discovery Green (1500 McKinney Street), and 6 p.m. March 20 at the Baker Ripley Neighborhood Center (6500 Rookin Street).
