Michael Djupstrom's contemporary pieces

Michael Djupstrom is one of the less familiar names on my personal list of contemporary Philadelphia composers. I attended a concert devoted to his chamber works because (1) I didn't have anything else to do that night and (2) the event took place across the street from my Center City apartment building.

I also felt some obligation to listen to Djupstrom's work. Young composers face a difficult uphill struggle. If you're not willing to cross the street to listen to one, you shouldn't be writing about classical music.

As it turned out, the event was well worth my foray across Walnut Street on a wintry night. Of the program's six pieces, five were impressive and eminently satisfying.

Like many young composers, Djupstrom gives his work titles that link to stories, personal experiences and other extra-musical subjects. It's a practice that can add some extra interest to a piece, but in his case it isn't necessary. Djupstrom's works can command attention purely on the basis of their musical interest.

Guiding the audience

The string quartet that ended the concert is a good example. Djupstrom called it Long, long ago and explained, in his notes, that he wanted to capture "a bittersweet nostalgic yearning" in the slow sections and "the energy and impetuosity of an imaginary folk culture" in the fast sections. He could have labeled the two halves Andante and Allegro and they would have been just as effective.

The quartet's real attraction is the way Djupstrom passes the center of interest among the four instruments with skill and imagination. The wildness of the second section can stand on its own, without any reference to imaginary rites.

The opening duet for violin and cello was titled Daydreams and Nightmares, but Djupstrom gave the six sections generic titles like "Moderato" and "Elegante," and that's the only guide his listeners need. Djupstrom creates discordances and sonorities that lend the duet an interesting Asian sound, and he maintains a continuously appealing interplay between the two instruments.

His Caprice for solo violin fulfills the basic objective of a showy violin piece. It combines music that describes an exciting trajectory with the excitement of watching a highly skilled human navigate a treacherous course. The music multiplies the effect of the tightrope act, and the tightrope act multiplies the effect of the music.

One weakling

The weakling in the litter was To the Eastern Sea, a quartet for piano and string trio that Djupstrom wrote in 2003 (when he was studying in China) and revised in 2005. Djupstrom described it as his personal favorite, but he acknowledged that it hasn't been performed as often as the other pieces on the program.

I can understand why. To the Eastern Sea tends to rely on the moods created by isolated sounds— a tendency I've noted in other young composers.

But musical sounds don't exist in isolation. They create patterns— and the shape and variety of those patterns is one reason we listen to music. Djupstrom's talent for creating melody lines runs through all the other pieces he selected for this program, but you don't hear it in To the Eastern Sea until the quartet approaches its final moments.

The concert was a free event— donations encouraged— but it was followed by a well-provisioned reception that included some great miniature cream puffs. It was part of a series called Concerts@First at the First Presbyterian Church. I don't know if they serve cream puffs at every concert. Suffice it to say that the people who organized this series are musically savvy individuals with a good knowledge of the local music scene.