SPIRA — Concerto for Orchestra

By Unsuk Chin

BORN : July 14, 1961, in Seoul, South Korea

Ω COMPOSED : 2019

Ω WORLD PREMIERE : May, 4, 2019, with Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla leading the Los Angeles Philharmonic

Ω CLEVELAND ORCHESTRA PREMIERE : This weekend’s concerts mark the first performances of Unsuk Chin’s SPIRA — Concerto for Orchestra

Ω ORCHESTRATION : 3 flutes (2nd doubling alto flute, 3rd doubling piccolo), 3 oboes (3rd doubling english horn), 4 clarinets (second doubling E-flat clarinet), 3 bassoons (3rd doubling contrabassoon), 6 horns, 4 trumpets, 2 trombones, 2 bass trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion (2 vibraphones, bass drum, glockenspiel, xylophone, triangle, 2 metal blocks, thunder sheet, tubular bells, cymbals, tambourine, whip, 3 tam-tams, crotales, 3 snare drums, flexatone, washboard, guiro), harp, piano (doubling celeste), and strings

Ω DURATION : 20 minutes

FROM THE CONCERTO GROSSO of the Baroque era to the sinfonia concertante of the Classical age to the seemingly contradictory concerto for orchestra of Modern times, composers have been inventing structures to highlight individual musicians of an ensemble within the larger whole. It’s an exercise that showcases the orchestra as a sum that is truly greater than its individual parts — along with celebrating those individual parts.

When commissioned to write a new work for the 2019 season of the

Los Angeles Philharmonic, an orchestra that composer Unsuk Chin knew quite well, she turned to this form that had been used to great effect by Béla Bartók (1943), Witold Lutosławski (1950–54), and Elliott Carter (1969). In her note accompanying the premiere of SPIRA, Berlin-based Chin wrote: “What fascinates me about this chameleonic ‘genre’ is not only that it challenges musicians to peaks of virtuosity but especially that it can coax unprecedented textures, sonorities, and forms from the symphony orchestra.”

She continued: “The orchestra can be presented as one entity, a ‘super-orchestra’, but also in various chamber-like combinations, and one can also highlight a certain section or even single musicians as soloists.” seeds, and the arms of spiral galaxies. Coincidently, Bartók also embedded this phenomenon into his music, structuring the Music for Strings, Percussion and Celeste around Fibonacci numbers.

This ability to elicit contrasting and uncannily specific textures — from shimmering, ethereal soundscapes to propulsive, driving passages — is a hallmark of Chin’s work. Born in South Korea, she studied under György Ligeti in Germany during her formative years. Drawing from both Eastern and Western traditions, she crafts utterly distinct and visceral soundworlds — inspired by abstract ideas, colors, or dreams —  in exacting and fully wrought detail.

For Chin, references to the Spira mirabilis are more obscure. The concept sparked more general ideas of “the biological process of growth and metamorphosis, with complex material evolving from simple germ motives in unexpected ways,” she explained.

SPIRA begins with two vibraphones, spaced apart on stage. Each instrument is played by two percussionists: one who bows the notes, and the other who controls the motor regulating the speed of the vibrations. “In this case, the reson-

This simple idea forms the basis of the work whose structure grows from the conflict and interaction between the underlying “ur-cell” and the reactions of other groups of instruments, with the music constantly changing in terms of density, color, character, and pulse, shifting between chaos and order, activity and repose.

The initial thought for SPIRA sprang out of a concept that has fascinated artists for centuries: the Spira mirabilis. The 17th-century mathematician Jacob Bernoulli coined this phrase, though the whorled structure, radiating outward at an ever-constant rate is known by several different names — logarithmic, growth, or Fibonacci spiral, to name a few —  and appears in nature in the swirls of nautilus shells, patterns of sunflower ance of the vibraphone constituted the sonic ‘ur-cell,’ calling forth manifold colors and intricate textures, as if zooming in with a microscope to research the inner life of sound, on the molecular level, and uncover previously invisible structures,” she said.

“The resonance of the two vibraphones runs through the whole work as a kind of ‘halo,’” Chin continued. “But it constantly varies in detail, which results in complex interferences and changing rhythmic patterns. At some point, this concept is taken over by the string section in a magnified guise, fluctuating between consonant harmony and extreme tone clusters. This simple idea forms the basis of the work whose structure grows from the conflict and interaction between the underlying ‘ur-cell’ and the reactions of other groups of instruments, with the music constantly changing in terms of density, color, character, and pulse, shifting between chaos and order, activity and repose.”

Almost immediately after the vibraphones’ entrance, we hear explosive interruptions: a rasping washboard, lightning glissandos from the harp and piano, piercing piccolos, and raucous horns. If the ephemeral glow of the vibraphones constitutes the core “ur-cell” then these squiggly figures spring forth like spores or bursts of energy, emanating from the sections of the orchestra.

As Chin unfurls her spiral, cycling through moments of tranquility and cacophony, the “ur-cell” reemerges in familiar but ever-evolving manifestations. About one third of the way through, eruptions subside to expose the vibraphones, and then at the midpoint a clattering of percussion gives way to placid strings. Shimmering woodwinds, strings, and harp are tethered by blustery lower brass.

Rather than build on the mounting tension and conflict of the virtuosic interjections, Chin gives the final word to those vibraphones in a long, gradual decrescendo. Emerging from the centripetal force of the spiral, it appears in full, a natural wonder.

— Amanda Angel