On Friday, the Boston Modern Orchestra Project premiered Prof. David Rakowski's (MUS) Piano Concerto no. 2 at New England Conservatory's famed Jordan Hall in Boston. This concert, entitled "Triple Threat" featured the works of three prominent local composers: Elena Ruehr, Ken Ueno and Brandeis' own Rakowski. The Boston Modern Orchestra Project commissions new pieces by prominent composers. As stated on their website, BMOP seeks to "bridge the gap between the contemporary composer and contemporary audience."

Rakowski brought a remarkably unpretentious demeanor to the preconcert talk with all the musicians. Wearing black jeans, a black shirt, jacket and a very loud and colorful tie, he joked as much as he answered the interviewer's questions. As a man of many talents, he managed to turn microphone sharing into something like a Marx brothers routine-and much to the dismay of Ueno, also Rakowski used his phone to photograph his view of the audience. When not making jokes, Rakowski insightfully spoke of his own work. This concerto, a type of composition that contrasts one or more solo instruments with a larger orchestra, stemmed from Rakowski's extensive solo piano etudes, which are written for only one instrument. These diverse and high-energy etudes attacked the conventional etude from many angles. Their technical, conceptual, compositional and stylistic strictures aimed to stretch the technique of the performer and the mind of the composer. 

Rakowski began these etudes in the mid '90s-almost by accident while attempting to clear his mind during a frustrating project. Rakowski enjoyed writing these character pieces and creating additional strictures: that these pieces had to be finished in six days and could not be revised. In 2000, pianist Amy Briggs offered to record all 34 of the etudes he had written. After this offer, Rakowski delved more into this self-professed obsession of his, "When someone tells you that [they are recording 'all of them'], you just have to go off and write 40 more," he said. Today, the total number of etudes stands at 100.? The names of these etudes are almost as colorful as the music itself; "Eight Misbehaving" and "Menage a Droit," an etude for the right hand, are two favorites of mine. 

After the interview period, the first two pieces in the concert were an excellent staty to the concert portion. Ruehr's "Summer Day," inspired by a painting by Georgia O'Keeffe, felt very cinematic and impressionistic. Ueno's "Hapax Legomenon, a concert for two-bow cello and orchestra" featured, quite obviously, a two-bowed cello. The player, Frances-Marie Uitti, played all four strings simultaneously, which allowed for an exploration of new harmonic possibilities on the traditional instrument. The piece felt ground-breaking and new, but it also was able to strike an emotional chord with the audience.

Rakowski's piece began like a run-on sentence, with a torrent of notes on the low register of the piano and occasional interjections from the orchestra. As the piano's range grew, the orchestration grew; the strings also added some playful pizzicato. The next section brought dense harmonies and in exchange for the piano's incessant typing, Briggs stood up and started plucking the strings inside the instrument. 

The second movement brought a sorrowful shift. It was an elegy to one of Rakowski's mentors at Princeton University: Milton Babbitt. It borrowed motives both from Babbit and a dream Rakowski had while writing the piece. 

There was marvelous syncopation, especially in the brass section. The dream-like movement brought me to musical places I have never been to before. The final movement featured several bizarre and aggressive grooves, drawing influences from jazz and stride piano playing. The concerto ended with some wonderful and rapid ritornello-like exchanges between the orchestra and soloist. I cannot overstate the freedom in Rakowski's music. However, it's not an intimate, improvisational freedom like one finds in certain styles of jazz. Rather, the music stylistically shifts and progresses with reckless abandon. There is a certain feeling of spontaneity, though given the methodical process of notation, it is anything but spontaneous. His music commands and directs the listener to many different and new places, which for me at least, makes it sometimes hard to keep up with. 

With two piano concertos, 100 etudes and an exhaustive list of awards and other compositions, one wonders: aside from teaching at Brandeis this week, what will David Rakowski do next?