Say Little and Do Much: An Interview with Steve Reich

A musical tsunami, Reich's formidable output includes numerous vocal works, from 1981's Psalm-based, Tehellim and 1983's seminal The Desert Music, to the composer's 1995 homage to Perotin, Proverb, based on a text by the philosopher Wittgenstein. Add to this canon Reich's latest opus: You Are (Variations), a piece first commissioned by the Los Angeles Master Chorale that evolved into a co-commission with Lincoln Center and Ensemble Modern.

This highly anticipated, 25-minute work received its world premiere on October 24, 2004 at Walt Disney Concert Hall under the baton of LAMC music director Grant Gershon. Gershon, a champion of new music, says Reich was at the top of his list for commissions. He describes the piece, scored for 18 singers and 24 instrumentalists (all amplified), as energetic and hard-driving.

"And it's a good fit," notes Gershon. "Because many of our singers do quite a bit of studio work, we have singers who can pare the voice down in that manner, but they can also sing a helluva Mahler Two."

While Mahler may not exactly be on Reich's radar, the composer, who will be in attendance at Disney Hall for the premiere, does cite Stravinsky, Bach, and jazz as influences. Speaking by phone from his home in Vermont, Reich let loose with his observations.

Chorus America: You've been quoted as saying, "I am devoted to the microphone." With Disney Hall known for its pristine natural acoustics, are you at all concerned about the new work with regards to amplification?

Reich: No. If it's a good hall, whether it's the Concertgebouw or Carnegie Hall, amplification can sound great. I don't want to be loud, I want to be a good orchestrater. To do that, I don't want a lot of musicians. If I have 18 violins, they're not going to have the clarity and rhythmic agility to play my music. If you need the gazelle, you don't want an elephant.

What kind of voice is needed for a Steve Reich composition?

A descendant of the impossible mating of Alfred Deller and Ella Fitzgerald. Conversational, non-vibrato—a small voice that isn't belted out Bruennhilde-style. One which points itself to amplification.

The new work revisits familiar territory in that the four movements make use of texts culled from Rebbe Nachman, the Psalms, Wittgenstein, and the Talmud. Can you elaborate, please?

Each movement deals with just one text set several times, therefore there are variations in all four movements. The texts are short, and in every text there is a truism. Beginning with Nachman's, "You are wherever your thoughts are," this accurately describes the state of mind of anyone listening to music. You may be physically sitting in Disney Hall, but your mind may be elsewhere. Wittgenstein's "Explanations come to an end somewhere," is a truism all good scientists will agree with. In the Psalms, "I place the Eternal before me," it's visualizing God and knowing that everything that is seen and felt and heard will have a consequence.

And the last movement, Pirke Avot's "Say little and do much." Are you into Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism?

I study with rabbis privately, but I wouldn't call myself a Kabbalist—I just try to do the right thing. The fourth movement is a summation of the whole piece. All the texts are short—"say little"—and I've done something with them, hopefully, that is very American: Do a great deal and not blow your horn.

You've come a long way from your cab-driving days. Indeed, you were a finalist for a Pulitzer Prize this year. What continues to feed your artistic drive?

Lots of composers had day gigs—John Adams drove a forklift, Philip Glass was a plumber. Sure, it would be nice to win a Pulitzer, but that's not what drives me. I'd rather write music than do anything else in the whole world—until they put me in a box. That's why I do it. I'm fortunate that people have liked my music, too, and that I'm able to do it.