PCMS presents the Dover Quartet, playing Jerod Impichchaachaaha' Tate and Melissa Dunphy

Called “one of the greatest quartets of the last 100 years” (BBC Music Magazine) and nominated twice for Grammy Awards, the Dover Quartet—Joel Link and Bryan Lee (violins), Julianne Lee (viola), and cellist Camden Shaw—was formed in 2008 at Curtis. Now in residence there, its name pays tribute to Dover Beach by fellow alumnus Samuel Barber, and at this concert, it was clear how they’ve earned their accolades.

The concert opened with Strum (2006), Jessie Montgomery’s appealing often-played work originally conceived as a cello quintet and reworked by the composer (2012) into this string quartet version. It features multiple pizzicato sections interspersed and overlaid with lyrical motifs that rise and fall out of the ostinato. Filled with changes in tempo and dynamics, it was an apt introductory work for this exploratory (and sold-out) concert.

Into the woodlands

Next followed two works by Jerod Impichchaachaaha' Tate, a noted composer and citizen of the Chickasaw Nation who integrates his heritage (and those of other Native cultures) into his works. First was his stunning orchestration (1994) of Rattle Songs, originally written and performed by the Indigenous Tuscarora singer Pura Fé. Each of it seven sections was clearly defined and different in mood: the shimmering strings of Viri Kuta (No. 2); the haunting harmonics and ballad-like melodies of Gramma Easter’s Lullaby (No. 4); and the quirkiness and repetitive slides of Great Grandpa’s Banjo (No. 7) that brought the work to a rousing conclusion.

Next came the Philadelphia premiere of Tate’s 2024 Abokkoli' Taloowa' (Woodland Songs). Commissioned by the Dover Quartet, it was the title and centerpiece of the ensemble’s most recent album, released in August 2025 under the Curtis Studio label. Each of this engaging composition’s five sections represents an animal of the Eastern woodlands for which a Chickasaw clan is named: Squirrel, Woodpecker, Deer, Fish, and Raccoon. Tate notes that each movement is “a deep, dramatic, and rhapsodic expression … of a beautiful and robust culture”.

No. 1, Fani’ (Squirrel), opens with driving, chittering stop-and-start music, melodies punctuated by dissonance to vividly epitomize the animal. The second movement, Bakbak (Woodpecker), features plucked strings and repetitive ostinato rhythms that alternate with the sweeping passages of a bird in flight. No. 3, Issi’ (Deer), is an extended, elegant tone poem whose slightly eerie harmonics and lyrical melodies are interlaced with rippling passages that evoke how deer are both seen and not seen, visible and then disappearing into the forest.

The fourth movement is Nani’ (Fish), rippling with the life swimming just under the surface of the water. And the final movement is Shawi’ (Raccoon), evoking Tate’s own clan, a loving, busy musical portrait of this forest denizen. As each clan portrait unfurls, the composer often intersperses his musical narratives with serene passages that evoke the mystery and majesty of the Chickasaw Nation’s forest. In both Tate works, the Dover’s masterful interpretations sounded fresh and original, and the composer’s sensitivity to his source material resulted in an almost-magical aural palette.

Time Isn’t Real

After intermission, the Dover ensemble played an eloquent version of a classic chamber work, the 1893 American Quartet (Op. 96) by Antonín Dvořák. Dvořák was in Spillvillle, Iowa, on vacation from heading New York City’s National Conservatory of Music of America, and the work’s four movements are replete with what he felt were American sounds and motifs. It was especially engaging to hear this fine interpretation of this composition with Tate’s American sounds still ringing through the hall.

But before intermission, there was another offering on this rich and fascinating program, a world premiere of a 2025 work by Philadelphia composer Melissa Dunphy. Titled Time Isn’t Real, it was commissioned as part of the PCMS Chamber Music for All series (funded by Diane and Lawrence Blum) to create music that can be played by skilled amateurs as well as by virtuosi like the Dover Quartet. The composer took the stage and spoke warmly of her own background as a string player and the impetus for this composition: her experience during the Covid pandemic and her realization that “our commonsense intuition of time is incorrect.”

The single-movement work (which didn’t sound all that easy) opens relentlessly, its quick rhythms over and under longer lines portraying how time can appear both fast and slow at the same time. Filled with passages that build in intensity and then fall back, the work ends by rising up the harmonic scale to slow legato lines filled with air and grace before returning to a busy musical conclusion. The composer and the quartet received several sustained enthusiastic ovations, and during the ensuing intermission, the audience was buzzing with excitement about this well-conceived program.

Absolute attention

The Perelman accommodates and enhances all types of chamber performance. I recently reviewed Opera Philadelphia’s multi-media The Seasons there, but the intimacy of the Dover players was equally well-served. With slightly lowered lights, audience members are able to see one another, and for this concert they were raptly appreciative, so it was possible to experience the slightest adjustments and emotions of the onstage players. These expectant listeners were solely focused on the musicians—no talking, no rustling of papers or programs—and that absolute attention amplified both the music and the silences, adding immeasurably to a memorable musical afternoon of excitement and artistry.

Editor’s note: Before you go, did you know that BSR is celebrating 20 years at our Party with the Critics event on January 15? All are welcome! Get your tickets now.