Live Log 2025: Biss Bash
On another magical night from Death of Classical, I came for the Tyshawn Sorey and stayed for the Franz Schubert.
May 9th: Jonathan Biss, The Crypt of the Church of the Intercession, Harlem, Presented by Death of Classical
Jonathan Biss is a well-known pianist with a passionate following, but not an artist I’ve explored in depth, as he mostly performs and records 18th- and 19th-century repertoire. However, an invitation from Death of Classical, who consistently create memorable experiences, and the opportunity to hear the New York premiere of a piece by Tyshawn Sorey, was enough to get me out in the rain and to a church on 155th Street.
Just like every Death of Classical event, the night was warm, welcoming, and creative from the start. There were tables of food and drink, including purveyors of high-end canned cocktails and artistic mocktails, and a convivial crowd. Before we descended to the Crypt, I had a lively conversation with a young couple that traversed contemporary classical, the Beastie Boys, and my new favorite Swedish punk band, Clutter.
But soon we were heading down the stairs and taking our seats in the Crypt. This is a space that always has a sense of occasion, helped along by the dozens of electric votives providing lighting. After a brief introduction by DoC founder Andrew Ousley, for whom the word “impresario” seems to have been invented, Biss emerged from the shadows and took his place at the keyboard.
This was the third night of a series Biss had curated, featuring new commissions paired with Schubert’s last three sonatas. First up was Sorey’s For Anthony Braxton, one of several “dedicated” works Sorey has been composing recently. It was a gorgeous piece, too, filled with resonant spaces, which Biss illustrated by hanging his right hand in the air, high above the keys, before bringing it down ever so gently to play the next figure. For Anthony Braxton was simultaneously concise and expansive, and I hope Biss or someone else records it soon so I can stop trying to hold it in my memory.
After rapturous applause, Biss turned his attention to the main course, Schubert’s Sonata No. 21 in B Flat Major, D.960, which he completed just months before his death at the age of 31. While I’m not a Schubert hater by any stretch, for me, his work is all about the songs, some of the greatest examples of that art form in human history. However, as is always the case when confronted with a piece I haven’t given much thought to, I sought to open my mind and listen without expectation.
From the delicate opening to the first flurry of notes, I knew a masterful performance was in store. Biss was both completely comfortable with whatever Schubert was dishing out in terms of complexity, while also seeming to remain deeply interested in how the piece progressed. I can’t say the same for myself; I found the experience akin to riding a train through a beautiful landscape, watching pretty things go by through the window, without seeing anything particularly memorable. I did take one picture along the way. In the middle of the second movement, Andante sostenuto, I was captivated by a dreamy new pattern that emerged and repeated several times. Biss’s physical grace was once again in evidence as he crossed his left hand over his right to hit the highest note in the phrase. Here, I connected Schubert at his most contemplative with the lush spaciousness of Sorey.
As I found out later, that phrase is a famous call-back by Schubert to Der Lindenbaum from Der Winterreise, one of his earliest - and greatest - song cycles. As put with noble concision by Mark George of the Music Institute of Chicago:
“…the Linden tree calls out to the cold and beleaguered traveler, ‘Here you would find peace.’ The words are not used in the sonata but the music implies their meaning. This reference is clearly the composer reflecting on the end of his own journey.”
Sigh. As I said, it’s all about the songs.
When Biss finished the piece, the ovations were even more overjoyed than before, with several people yelling out “Jonathan!” in what sounded like pure astonishment. If the faithful were this well pleased, at least I could say I’d heard a D. 960 for the ages. But I would have expected no less from Death of Classical.
In his introduction, Ousley had mentioned that Sorey was stuck in traffic but would be there for the second performance. When I spotted him upstairs, I congratulated him on the premiere and effusively told him how great it sounded. “Thank you,” he said humbly, “I can’t wait to hear it.”
From The Archives
Live Log 2023: Zosha Di Castri’s Contrasts
Record (And A Concert!) Roundup: On An Island