It was a perfect cosmic alignment across decades and desires as the Menil Collection’s magnificent abstract expressionist painting PH-222 by Clyfford Still became the silent, expanding host to the circle of audience assembled in the museum’s foyer to hear the Houston premiere of Tyshawn Sorey’s For Julius Eastman. Clyfford Still wanted people to enter into his works and lose themselves in the moment. In DACAMERA’s program entitled “Transforming Time,” we enter into the intimacy of a strikingly gorgeous work commissioned and performed by pianist Sarah Rothenberg, losing ourselves in Sorey’s tribute to the brilliant composer, pianist, vocalist, and activist Julius Eastman.
Sarah Rothenberg rehearsing “For Julius Eastman” before Clyfford Still’s “PH-222”
In the center of the foyer sat Sarah Rothenberg, clad in a double skirted black tunic and a shrug the exact color of the red in the painting, her piano became an extension of the abstract shapes in Still’s painting, as if his canvas could not resist stretching itself into the room, inviting us into the moment. Sorey often tributes other creative artists, both past and present, in his work, and it felt as if many threads of inspiration and camaraderie were connecting through time at the Menil premiere. In 2022, Sorey premiered Monochromatic Light (Afterlife), commissioned by DACAMERA to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Rothko Chapel. For Julius Eastman unfolded with the same kind of contemplative and plaintive atmosphere as the work of composer Morton Feldman, whose 1971 composition, Rothko Chapel, commemorated the chapel’s opening. Morton Feldman and Julius Eastman were colleagues at the renowned Center of the Creative & Performing Arts at the University of Buffalo.
Julius Eastman,1974. Photo: Chris Rusiniak
Julius Eastman (1940-1990) was a powerful composer ahead of his time in experimentation and concept in musical composition. His titles, which sometimes confronted racial and homophobic slurs, and his multidisciplinary performances were a form of activism and rebellion that sometimes shook the academic world where he taught. His incredible genius was evident in his music. Sometimes labeled a minimalist, he referred to his music as organic music, a term that trumpeter and composer Don Cherry also used to describe his ideas for musical performance. In both cases, the term describes what was essentially an invitation into a new and different world of performance, one that gave creative agency to the performers in unique ways, and sought to engage audiences on a deeply emotional level.
It seems a goal in many of Sorey’s celebrated compositions to point toward the sustaining power of our collective humanity. His Meditations for Josephine Baker (2016) reminds us that Josephine Baker was a member of the French resistance during World War II, risking her life and compromising her health to aid the country she adopted as her home. His Adagio (For Wadada Leo Smith), a saxophone concerto written as a tribute to the composer and trumpeter Smith, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 2024. Sorey communicates to us in his compelling music the solidarity of knowing we are all in this life together.
Tyshawn Sorey rehearsing.
For Julius Eastman begins with what sounds like gentle footsteps that take us slowly forward and simultaneously back through time. The steps are not tenuous but rather soft and dulcet. Together, we ascend and arrive at a landing, slowly turning while the notes reverberate like a whisper or an almost inaudible voice singing to us – an effect arrived at by holding the piano pedal down so the strings need not stop sounding their notes. The music feels like long, sinuous arms reaching across past and present, bringing us to a place where there is no time.
As the work progresses, the meditative opening gives way to a darker, more dramatic section, with the sustained reverberation now feeling like a thread of expectancy or anxiety hanging in the air. Still, there is a bell-like sweetness that permeates the sound. The music begins to feel chant-like, and it reminds me of Julius Eastman’s Femenine, where one wonders if the repetitive vibraphone melody is the feminine content implied in the title or if Eastman is saying there is no such thing as masculine and feminine. The chant we hear now in For Julius Eastman is both heavy and light simultaneously, leading us into an energetic surge of sound.
Artistic Director Sarah Rothenberg performing in the round at the Menil Collection
In her performance, Sarah Rothenberg conveys a deep affinity for this music. She describes the work in her program note as “a universe of hypersensitivity; recurring memories float in and out of our consciousness. Expressive single lines are filled with nuance and intention, often sustained over long resonances that are as important as the initial sounds. Remember Morton Feldman’s wise caution: The sound is not the attack, the sound is what comes after…”
Her virtuosic and flawless technique is fully given to every nuance and breath in the score, as if she is one with the music—a vessel for the healing sounds of Sorey’s composition. Her fluid gestures as she gently hovers over the above-mentioned sustained resonances take us seamlessly into what we hear. Her figure at the keyboard, the closeness of the surrounding audience, and the generous presence of the Clyfford Still make all elements, sonic and visual, feel connected.
Now the feeling of footsteps in the music returns, one step at a time into our consciousness. The steps resound differently than in the opening. This time, they are expectant, like the steps of a lover or a friend on the stairs. The repetition sounds like a reminder that we are here, all of us here, alive in the night together. The composition continues to build, gracefully ebbing forward, dancer-like as the clarion call returns and the deep sustained resonance, now the most audible, feels like it could almost be another instrument accompanying these beautiful melodic fragments. I see people sitting across from me in the circle of audience, their eyes closed, fully in the moment. Then we come to an arrestingly beautiful ending with these sweet, high, dulcet tones calling us, higher and sweeter, till we are floating in the celestial space, together and one.
For Julius Eastman was performed on March 3 at The Menil Collection.
