Danielpour: An American Mosaic

It’s always worth taking note when a new work by Richard Danielpour appears. Especially in this case, when the interpreter is pianist Simone Dinnerstein, for whom the work was written, and the music is as timely and substantive as that of An American Mosaic.

A set of 15 portraits for piano inspired by various American “identities,” i.e. groups that have been affected by the Covid-19 pandemic, An American Mosaic was commissioned by the Oregon Bach Festival and premiered by Dinnerstein online on December 6, 2020. More than a tribute, it is the composer’s personal response to our tragedy. During the early months of the pandemic, when his asthma put him at high risk of a bad outcome should he contract the disease, Danielpour found solace in listening to Dinnerstein’s recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations. From this came the idea of writing a solo piano work that might comfort others. He got in touch with Dinnerstein, and over the summer of 2020 they collaborated long distance—she in New York and he in Los Angeles, where he serves on the faculty at UCLA.

Not at all surprisingly—and even though Danielpour makes no attempt to mimic his keyboard style—the figure behind it all is J.S. Bach. The cameos that make up the bulk of the composition are framed by four meditative “consolations”—consisting of a monodic chordal prologue, a two-part invention, a three-part fugue, and a four-part chorale-like epilogue—there’s Bach for you. Within this framework, though, there is ample variety of manner and mood. 

The voicings of the chords in the prologue, for instance, bring to mind Debussy’s underwater cathedral, and there are numerous passages whose energy is reminiscent of Barber’s Excursions. Among these, I particularly liked the bracing, toccata-like snap of the piece’s sixth movement, “Journalists, Poets, and Writers.” Danielpour has described the suite as “a mosaic of heroes,” and the titles of numerous movements bear that out: the scurrying “Documentary Filmmakers and Photographers” and the elegiac, almost sad “Doctors and Interns” come one after the other. Other movements pay tribute to “Rabbis and Ministers,” “Parents and Children,” and “Teachers and Students.” I thought the work’s second movement (“Caretakers and Research Physicians”) was absolutely gorgeous, and was struck by what sounded like the tolling of a D-Flat funeral-bell in the meditative third consolation, a knell that begins at the interlude’s low point and goes right to its end. 

There are movements titled “The Invisible Enemy” (portraying the virus itself) and “The Visible Enemy” (the Trump administration), but Danielpour’s focus is mostly on the good guys. By the end of the piece’s sobering epilogue one is left feeling hopeful, and indeed consoled, if not optimistic. The offering includes three Bach transcriptions, created by Danielpour for Dinnerstein.

Like Dinnerstein’s prior album, A Character of Quiet, this one was recorded at her home in Brooklyn by her longtime producer Adam Abeshouse. As conveyed by the hi-res download I received for review, the recording, made November 16–17, 2020, is excellent—delivering rich and resonant sound from a close, dry pickup. And here’s a bonus: the cover art reproduces Underground, Together (1996), a modern realist painting of a New York City subway scene by Harvey Dinnerstein, the pianist’s uncle.