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Vivian Stewart

"The Avatar" by Steve Rouse: Music to Describe Lifetimes of the Divine




If I had to name one piece that consistently takes my breath away (without giving it back), it would be The Avatar for trumpet and piano by Steve Rouse. In eleven minutes, this music describes the evolution of our lifetimes: from descendance onto Earth, years of struggle and suffering, and finally to one’s release and ascendance to the heavens. It’s an age-old story -- one so universal that even our gods share it. Both Jesus Christ and the Hindu deity, Vishnu, divine figures who seem to have blazed divergent trails, underwent Nativity, Enigma-Release, and Rebirth, the three movements of The Avatar. By appreciating this music, therefore, I feel a sense of reverence for their extraordinary evolutions, and can glimpse at the humanity behind their miraculous feats.


From the beginning of the Nativity movement, time is warped: both piano and trumpet appear to be in complementary yet dissimilar universes. The piano chases its own echo…each measure slightly mimics the previous one in an ethereal way, while the trumpet swerves through septuplet flourishes (measure 3), distorts time while pivoting on trumpet trills, and ecstatically zigzags up and down intervals (measures 9 -11), before finally settling into a waltz-like time with the piano in measures 9-24. In Ray Mase’s interpretation (which is, at this point the only recorded interpretation because this piece is so insanely difficult to play), he plays his piccolo trumpet with a bright timbre that outshines anything I’ve ever heard. His fanfare-like playing is a remarkable depiction of the cheer that resounded around the world at the birth of Christ.

Growing up, I read about Christ’s birth in many illustrated Children’s Bible stories, but Mase’s illuminating playing brings the story to life: evoking the same jubilation I imagine that ‘the three wise men’ from the Gospel of Matthew felt, leaving me with a gaping grin. :)


Exciting flourishes and mimicry...



In the Hindu context, however, I imagine that the beauty of the Nativity takes a softer form (Lynn, 3). The trumpet’s flamboyant voice is subdued slightly so that Vishnu’s all-pervading light can hide from evil forces as he silently lands on Earth. Vishnu’s disguise as a fish, tortoise, and later, a human (among countless other beings) shields him from the tyrannical evil he seeks to destroy, and allows him to be the master alchemist he is -- overcoming obstacles while transforming suffering by the hands of evil into beauty and impenetrable light.


We hear this alchemy in action in the second movement, Enigma-Release, which is five minutes of ever-mounting intensity and (a very) suspended release. After a startling octave strike from the piano, the dynamics immediately diminish to a whisper and then a slow, straining climb towards release begins at measure 2. The piano begins at a dissonant tangent, which is periodically interrupted with sharp octave bursts. The flugelhorn’s murmured entrance is surprisingly faint. Rouse vividly paints a rich, dark timbre with the flugelhorn by composing soaring whole notes that ascend and accelerate ever so slightly with the piano. During these measures, the friction between the warm flugelhorn and crunchy piano chords seem to be perpetual, and yet their juxtaposing parts are so beautiful, I could listen to this friction for hours. It’s this abiding beauty at the toughest junctures that makes me imagine Vishnu alchemizing evil hostility into beauty, and then effortlessly overcoming it.


Rouse describes the final release from evil at measures 76-79, as an “ecstatic cry” (Lynn, 14). This gorgeous cry does not deviate from the warm character of the flugelhorn, however. On the contrary, the cry maintains poise and warmth as it expands in range, and seems to be impervious to the ugliness it combats. It is a divine cry for the love of God, from the God of love: a testament to Vishnu’s sublime character. For Jesus Christ, it serves as a reminder of his zealous love for humanity before finally succumbing to death (Aslan, 172). His beautiful message of sacrifice only blooms as he hangs by nails drilled by evil. The movement then closes with a slow reckoning between piano and flugelhorn as the piano’s cacophony subsides to silence and the flugelhorn dissolves into its own quiet beauty.

The "ecstatic cry"...

In the third movement, Rebirth, Vishnu returns to his Godly form and his heavenly abode, and Jesus is resurrected by God himself. From the Hindu perspective, this movement is the most extravagant. I can’t help but picture Vishnu leaping to ever-higher heights in his cosmos, effortlessly ricocheting off of 7/4, 15/16, and 14/16 time, diving into diverse ranges and trills in a matter of milliseconds. In Rebirth, Vishnu’s universal imagination is unleashed; he even incorporates a “jazz influence” (according to Rouse), adding an improvisatory style to the mix (Lynn, 21). He plays the trumpet at the marked speed of eighth note = 200 (pretty much light years time, in my opinion) which, as of this writing, has been unachievable to humankind. It’s just a delightful vision!


On the other hand, for Christians, Rebirth involves a different kind of joy. Christ’s groundbreaking resurrection proved to his followers that he was the divine messiah, or in other words, a clear manifestation of God on earth: an avatar (Aslan, 165). Rebirth, therefore, is a joyful time of reckoning with Christ’s message: to “love one another as I have loved you” (John 13:34). Mase gives the music this sentiment as he maintains a warm and pure sound that swells from whisper to gentle roar in almost every measure. The difficult syncopation is preserved as well, just as Vishnu and Jesus never sacrificed their morality or love in the face of dark evil. While Jesus’ ressurection is a thrilling time for Christians, it prompted a powerful period of introspection and teaching (Lynn, 20). Every quick trill, scalar run, and jazzy octuplet flourish is thus taken with a grain of wise rumination.


At the end of the piece, the trumpet pounces on a low A-flat, which becomes a springboard for the following glissando up three octaves! This is arguably a symbol of Jesus’ final ascendance towards heaven and a final reminder of Vishnu’s unfaltering beam of light. Perhaps it is also a reminder of the individual’s eternal ray of light which, like that of Vishnu and Jesus, can alchemize anything into beauty, conquer any obstacle, and which makes us all divine.


___________________________________



Single is the race, single

Of men and gods;

From a single mother we both draw breath

But a difference of power in everything

Keeps us apart;

For one is as nothing, but the brazen sky

Stays a fixed habituation for ever.

Yet we can in greatness of mind

Or of body be like Immortals


Pindar, Greek poet, sixth century BCE


1st movement: Nativity

2nd movement: Enigma-Release

3rd movement: Rebirth



Bibliography (MLA 8)


Aslan, Reza. Zealot: the Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth. Allen & Unwin, 2017.

Lynn, Mark J. “The Avatar by Steve Rouse: A Performance Practice Guide.”UNT Digital

Library, University of North Texas, 30 Mar. 2011

digital.library.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metadc31541/m1/1/.







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