Under John Adams, the state of the union is fine

JOHN ADAMS conducted two of his chamber concertos Tuesday night with the Los Angeles Philharmonic New Music Group. A “Green Umbrella” concert, it was also an early 60th birthday party for the composer, in anticipation of Feb. 15.

The performances weren’t the best of either work that I’ve heard. “Grand Pianola Music,” the boisterous two-piano concerto, was, in some regards, better played three nights earlier by the Pasadena Symphony. “Gnarly Buttons,” the wonderful clarinet concerto, was gnarlier than it maybe needed to be. But no matter. With Adams on the podium, authenticity was obviously built into the evening. The music was great. And the spirit in Walt Disney Concert Hall, which attracted a large and loving audience, was something to remember.

That Adams is, and has been for quite some time, America’s composer is not exactly news. But just how much his music means to an ever-growing number of people is. Adams has come to represent the voice of the America that many cling to in a troubled world. We no longer can count on uniters in government, commerce, religion or even in popular culture. That role is in the hands of artists -- deep, caring, probing artists who can connect us to our shared humanity.

Not to read too much into “Grand Pianola Music” or “Gnarly Buttons.” They are pieces of music and won’t bring the troops home or reduce traffic on the freeway. But they make us feel good about America. Both “Grand Pianola Music,” written in 1982, and “Gnarly Buttons,” from 1996, begin in the realm of moody, meandering Minimalism or post-Minimalism and end sweetly with popular music and concert music shaking hands.

The earlier work is a young man strutting, and listening to it can still put a spring in your step. The clarinet concerto is richer, mature music. In it are reminiscences of the composer’s New Hampshire youth (Adams and his father were both clarinetists) along with oblique references to Benny Goodman, Aaron Copland and Duke Ellington. The middle movement, called “Hoedown (Mad Cow),” finds the amusing conflict at the intersection of Americana and the big beef business. The last movement, “Put Your Loving Arms Around Me,” is a sentimental song given some magic stardust. I consider the piece a masterpiece.

There is fun, sassiness and seriousness in both concertos. Derek Bermel was an interesting choice of clarinet soloist. He is better known as one of the most promising composers of the younger generation nipping at Adams’ heels. The clarinet writing is fiendishly difficult, and Bermel contributed a raw urgency to the interpretation but lacked the fluidity of Michael Collins, the phenomenal British clarinetist who premiered the score, or Andre Trouttet, a suave French clarinetist who has made a terrific recording of the concerto with David Robertson conducting.

Adams brings to his music a guarantee of rhythmic propulsion, without which his work won’t speak. His accent is 100% American, which is to say that he has a way of accentuating the beat that foreigners often have difficulty in reproducing. Both pieces had spirit, and in both performances details of striking orchestration sparkled.

What was lacking, though, was the command of time and space that Esa-Pekka Salonen generated in the Philharmonic’s brilliant performance of Adams’ “Naive and Sentimental Music” last weekend or Jorge Mester’s finesse with “Grand Pianola Music” in Pasadena on Saturday night.

But Adams’ interpretations provide important information for any interpreter of his music. The finesse needs to be added to the rhythmic framework, the music must move first. And it never hurts to have first-rate soloists. Joanne Pearce Martin and Vicki Ray made a glorious two-piano sound in “Grand Pianola Music.” Martin also introduced the program with a shimmering performance of Adams’ short, early hard-score Minimalist solo piano piece, “China Gates.”

In a bit of luxury casting, Theatre of Voices -- the singers Ann-Kristin Jones, Klaudia Kidon and Bente Vist -- were the back-up vocal trio in “Grand Pianola Music.” They dressed flamboyantly for flamboyant music and were a delight.

mark.swed@latimes.com