Philip Glass: From Punk to Minimalism

Under a bright, overhead sun, while a loud ensemble of cicadas tries to distract him, musical composer and arranger Michael Riesman takes a moment to share, “I’m currently in the countryside, in Saugerties, New York. I take pleasure in sitting under the sun. It’s utterly delightful here.” Riesman, who has avidly worked alongside the famed composer Philip Glass for five decades, is taking a brief respite from the urban life in Manhattan.

His partnership with Glass began in 1974, as a keyboardist for the pioneering Philip Glass Ensemble. Back then, Glass was largely considered an outsider, viewed sceptically by the classical music community, particularly within the United States. Fast forward 50 years later, Glass has attained an esteemed status and fame as one of the most prolific living composers. His musical compositions have amplified movies like The Hours, Candyman and The Truman Show. His opera compositions, including Satyagraha and Akhnaten, have filled theatres all over the globe. Glass’s influence has even stretched into pop culture, with mentions in The Simpsons and praise from The New Yorker for his “vastly intricate, incessantly stirring, obsessively grand creations”. His varied collaborators include iconic figures such as David Bowie, Brian Eno, and Indian composer Ravi Shankar.

Glass is widely recognised for introducing the final significant idea within classical music: minimalism. His artistic style, where repetitive melodies extend over lengthy periods, has significantly influenced genres from classical music to electronica. As noted by the Chicago Tribune critic John von Rhein, “His style permanently infiltrates our pop-middlebrow consciousness. Glass’s music is now permanently etched in our cultural idiom, accessible to anyone with a simple YouTube search.”

Throughout the illustrious career of icon Philip Glass, Riesman has been by his side; evolving from a subtle presence to a key player in Glass’s musical journey. In his capacity as Glass’s unofficial representative, Riesman is bringing the Philip Glass Ensemble to Dublin for a series of performances next week.

Audiences can anticipate a collection of Glass’s renowned compositions. The inaugural concert on Thursday will feature the full performance of his acclaimed 1981 album, Glassworks. This chamber-music composition comprising six segments has inspired modern musicians like Nils Frahm, Hania Rani and Ludovico Einaudi.

Glassworks was a deliberate attempt by the artist to render his distinct style more accessible, Pitchfork posited in its 2016 review of the album’s reissue. Instead of delivering prolonged hours of his gradually evolving themes, the six succinct pieces run at just less than 40 minutes.

The following evening at the National Concert Hall will present a debut orchestral adaptation of the score for Naqoyqatsi, a 2002 avant-garde film by Godfrey Reggio; marking their third creative partnership, succeeding Koyaanisqatsi (1982) and Powaqqatsi (1988). The revamped version, jointly commissioned by the NCH, will have the National Symphony Orchestra and cellist Kate Ellis performing.

Naqoyqatsi translates as “Life as War” in the Hopi language – a Native American tribe from present-day Arizona. Produced in the aftermath of the 9/11 atrocities – with Reggio’s studio located near the World Trade Centre – the movie merges generic video clips, computer animation and Glass’s musical accompaniment to reflect on the perils of capitalism and the influence of technology on mankind (Reggio predominantly views this as negative). The film is designed to make its viewers think critically, rather than offer them a form of escapism or amusement.

Reggio’s approach in Naqoyqatsi involved a significant amount of digital manipulation of mainly stock footage, which intensifies the visual impact to the point of creating eye fatigue, acknowledged the Washington Post in their review of the release. The overwhelming effect led to a voluntary surrender to the constant, powerful images, which cause pain yet compulsive viewing.

Riesman and Glass have a longstanding relationship, both having collaborated on the three films by Reggio. In the early days of their careers, they were outsiders in the field of classical music. Glass, a son to Russian-Jewish and Latvian immigrants in Baltimore, Maryland, had his humble beginnings as a University of Chicago graduate. Riesman, on the other hand, was a Fulbright scholar educated under composer Gottfried von Einem in Vienna before relocating to the United States to embark on his teaching profession at the State University of New York located in suburbian Harrison.

Relationships between Riesman and Glass were initiated socially, with Riesman based in New York, fulfilling his roles as a performer and composer. Riesman first met Glass through their mutual friends in the art world. When Glass was in search for a keyboardist, Riesman’s name came up leading to an audition invitation from Glass. Though not immediately offered a permanent spot in the ensemble, Riesman joined the tour and continued to be part of the team, eventually stepping into the role of music director.

New York in the 1970s was a blend of decay and flourishing creativity. Despite challenges like rampant muggings in the subway and the decline of Times Square into something akin to a disorderly open public restroom, the city thrived in pioneering music, particularly downtown. Iconic bands like Blondie, Talking Heads and Television sprang from the same decade as well as avant-garde composers La Monte Young and Rhys Chatham, whose works influenced Sonic Youth in the 1980s. The creative surge of this era also propelled the careers of Riesman and Glass.

Riesman recalls, “The primary platforms for exposure were primarily downtown art galleries and lofts”, reflecting on how in 1974, prior to his joining, Philip Glass took a remarkable gamble by renting out the Town Hall theatre to see if it was possible to draw in a crowd there for the debut of Music in Twelve Parts. The daring venture paid off – not only did Glass successfully draw an audience, he demonstrated it was possible for him to fill up such a prestigious uptown venue. Riesman reminisces, “I was there at the concert hall, along with many others who were surprised and incredibly impressed that Philip Glass was capable of such a feat.”

Music in Twelve Parts, which was a bold and fresh addition to orchestral performances, stretched over three hours and received widespread recognition. The New Yorker magazine gushed in 1978, “A sudden surge of fresh sound and chords gives the impression of a room’s wall vanishing, exposing a completely unexpected scenery.”

Despite earning critical acclaim, Glass’s three-hour minimalist song cycles did not generate substantial income during that period. Therefore, he had to resort to running a furniture-moving service along with his fellow innovative composer Steve Reich and driving a taxi to take care of his bills. According to Riesman, Glass was unwilling to compromise, “His perspective on how music should be structured was unique and he made this clear with his own set of guidelines. Instead of pleading with others to play his composition, he decided to take control, start his own ensemble, and pay them himself,” further stated Riesman.

Glass did not wish to play any political games beyond performance and taking risks, similar to his daring step at the Town Hall. He proved that a market existed for his work and that people would appreciate it. This allowed him to primarily earn through performances, although he wasn’t making enough to sustain himself and had to continue driving taxis. “He made a conscious choice. He did not wish to hold a teaching job or have disciples or students. All he wanted was his individual group playing his music and earning just enough to scrape by, exploring where all this could lead, all while setting his own terms”, states Riesman.

Even though Glass had been successful at the Town Hall, his work was still predominantly recognised in the niche spaces of downtown New York – the artistic hubs and loft studios. His next major development wouldn’t take place until he stepped onto French soil, where his avant-garde opera, Einstein on the Beach, premiered in Avignon in July 1976. This operatic work boldly delved into the legacy of Albert Einstein, one of the nuclear era’s pioneers, much like the surreal episodes in Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer.

Einstein on the Beach wasn’t a conventional performance that appeased audiences. It was boundary-pushing and at times, intensely avant-garde. The tale it told wasn’t linear or clearcut – instead, Glass preferred to refer to it as a “non-plot”. The opera unfolded through a series of dream-like sequences that subtly alluded to Einstein’s theory of relativity.

When critics scrutinised Glass’s innovative operatic work, they acknowledged the audacity of it but also praised his willingness to redefine norms. They commented on his music’s ability to disarmingly soothe and enchant the audience; it was an attack on their senses that morphed into something quietly captivating. A lead critic from the New Yorker explained, “The listener will initially resist the trance-inducing repetition but soon realise the experience is transformative rather than monotonous. Something has occurred.”

Einstein on the Beach marked the dawn of a fresh phase in Glass’s career, according to Riesman.

Riesman remarks, “Glass had two milestones that catapulted him to renown. Firstly, Einstein on the Beach received front-page recognition in the New York Times arts review, leading to its performance at the prestigious Metropolitan Opera House in New York. The subsequent internationally acclaimed accomplishment was his film score for Koyaanisqatsi, the first in a Godfrey Reggio series that initially gained traction at the New York Film Festival before going globally theatrical and eventually airing on television. These successes firmly established Glass as one of his time’s leading composers, significantly bolstered by his film scores.”

Throughout his career, Riesman’s most influential partnership has been with Glass. Nevertheless, other artists have also played a significant role in his work, including the distinguished David Bowie. Bowie asked for Riesman’s input in string arrangments for his 1993 album, Black Tie White Noise. This album is considered revolutionary in marking Bowie’s resurgence as a serious musician following his struggles in the 80s.

Riesman holds his collaboration with Bowie close to heart. For ‘The Wedding Song’, a song dedicated by Bowie to his wife Iman, Riesman designed a string arrangement which he is immensely proud of. Despite his contribution being subdued in the final mix, resulting in his work being barely audible, Riesman accepted and respected this artistic decision. Additional fun came from their time in the studio tinkering with another track, working to incorporate a few bells here and there.

Riesman’s next venture involves bringing the Philip Glass Ensemble for a performance in Dublin. The focus of these two evenings will be an orchestral rendition of Naqoyqatsi. It muses on how technology affects humanity and is as relevant today as it was at the time of its premiere, the period of 9/11.

Riesman cites the works Koyaanisqatsi, Powaqqatsi, and Naqoyqatsi as timeless meditations on the human condition and our interactions with the world. These works highlight the changes individuals undergo due to various pressures. They depict both the beauty and the more detrimental aspects of humanity, concentrating on topics like environmental destruction and the destructive consequences of warfare. Naqoyqatsi, subtitled ‘Life as War’ illuminates the struggle inherent in human existence, a theme of unchanging relevance according to Riesman.

Catch the Philip Glass Ensemble performing at the National Concert Hall, Dublin, on the 10th and 11th of October.

Condividi