EUGENE, Ore. — A few days before the nation’s 250th birthday, the Oregon Bach Festival presented classical music inspired by indigenous folk cultures in choral and symphonic form. The exploratory nature of the two programs July 1-2 suggested that music of the Americas is pulling from roots that are wide and deep, there are still new sounds to be discovered and expressed, and all of us can benefit from hearing them.
Roomful of Teeth, the Grammy Award-winning ensemble known for singing works from diverse cultures and using innovative vocal techniques, gave a sonically unique concert July 1 to a full house in Soreng Theater (seating capacity 495) at the Hult Center for the Performing Arts.
Drawing on the music of indigenous peoples, Roomful of Teeth’s program featured works by Gabriela Ortiz, Leilehua Lanzilotti, and the festival’s composer-in-residence, Jerod Impichchaachaaha’ Tate, including the world premiere of his Ittinkana’ Taloowa’ (Friendship Songs). Each piece was sung in a native language, which stretched listeners’ ears with all sorts of unusual words often packed with alliteration.
Opening with Ortiz’s Canta la Piedra-Tetluikan (A Song of the Stone), which was co-commissioned by the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Carnegie Hall in 2025, the eight singers declaimed the poetry of Mexican writer Mardonio Carballo in the Nahuatl language, which is still used by 1.7 million people in central Mexico. Four sacred elements — atl (water), tlitl (fire), zokitl (clay), and ejekatl (wind) — were invoked, propelled rhythmically over three movements. The singers executed pinpoint pauses and used no vibrato but generated an arresting passage in which their voices emitted a shaken sound, as if driving over gravel. They also tapped hand-held stones that were sourced from the nearby McKenzie River.
The piece was difficult to follow because the house lights were turned down completely, and no text was projected. Unless concertgoers aimed the flashlights on their cellphones onto the program, it was impossible to understand what was being sung and which movement we were hearing.
Lanzilotti’s on stochastic wave behavior, a 12-minute piece inspired by the ocean and children playing, offered a delicious combination of sounds that were entirely generated by the ensemble. The opening passage reminded me of a fog horn in the distance. In another section, the group created a subtle clicking sound that might have been an octopus crawling along the ocean floor — as was mentioned in the introduction to the piece. Later came pillowy soft, vocalized breathing evocative of gentle ocean waves. Tones that were very close created an otherworldly impression that was hypnotic. I never did discern a beat, but subtle signals from artistic director and bass Cameron Beauchamp had the piece under control, and it received ardent response from the audience.
After intermission, Tate came to center stage and gave a few examples of traditional Chickasaw songs, a couple of which ended with an uplifting yelp. He then enticed the audience to join him in a selection from his tribe, teaching everyone the words for a call-and-response refrain that was set to five beats and later to three beats. He kept the beat by shaking a couple of shells that contained beads, and concertgoers became more energized, impressing Tate with their enthusiasm.
The concert concluded with Tate’s nine Friendship Songs, which he dedicated to family members and friends, “people who are very dear to me.” The songs conveyed a wide set of emotions. “Foshi’ Intaloowa’” (Song for Grandmother) had a lovely, wistful quality that included whispered text. That contrasted well with “Wilson Intaloowa’” (Song for Wilson), which had a loud, demonstrative flair. Several songs were infused with a thick and complex part for the women’s voices, while the men created a low drone. A couple of pieces were dominated by the soprano and bass voices, making it a strain to hear the intimate harmonies of the inner voices.
The final song, “Kabi’ Intaloowa’” (Song for Bynum) concluded with a series of climbing chords on a crescendo. That unleashed cheers and a standing ovation for Tate.
A pre-concert talk on July 2 provided a foundational context for the concert that evening that featured Dvořák’s Symphony No. 9 (From the New World) and Tate’s American Indian Symphony at the Silva Concert Hall, the orchestral venue inside the Hult Performing Arts Center. James William Boyd, the Oregon Bach Festival’s director of programming and administration, hosted Ken-David Masur, the festival’s artistic partner, and Tate, whose symphony received its West Coast premiere in this performance.
Masur noted Dvořák’s advocacy for an American sound in symphonic form and his awareness of “The Song of Hiawatha” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and romanticized tunes that celebrated indigenous tribes. Tate made it clear that Dvořák was “a symphonic hero of mine” and that as a youth at a national music camp, he played the trumpet part in the New World Symphony and relished its “sauna of sound.” “Musically, it’s a brilliant piece,” said Tate, “but it is all Czech folk music.”
Noting that the concert was dedicated to festival co-founder Helmuth Rilling, who died in February at the age of 92, Masur led the OBF Modern Orchestra — the festival also sponsors a Baroque and Classical orchestra as well as a period-instrument orchestra — in an incisive interpretation of Dvořák’s Ninth Symphony.
Masur conducted from memory without a baton, much like his father Kurt Masur. The result was highlighted by exciting entrances and punchy endings in the first movement, sensitive but not syrupy treatment of the plaintive second movement (marked by the beautiful sound of English hornist Benjamin Brogadir), evocative dynamics in the third, and a strong, lively pace for the fourth, which inspired the young couple in front of me to bob their heads from side to side.
In his introduction to the American Indian Symphony, Tate explained that Oklahoma has 39 tribes that speak six different languages, all reflected in the six movements of the piece and text sung by soprano Kirsten C. Kunkle, baritone Javier Arrey, the festival chorus, and the University of Oregon Chamber Choir. Projected titles, which included the native languages and English translation, helped greatly in comprehending the music.
The piece got off to a bold start, conveying a loud thunderstorm and using words in the Wichita language that emphasized the people’s strong ties to the land. Big sonic blocks augmented by rattling sounds were central to the next movement, “Potawatomi” (Wind). That was followed by a faster pace in “Apache” (Renewal), with trumpets leading the way. The “Chickasaw” (Hymn) movement told of the people inspired by ancestors. “Modoc” (Running) stressed the importance of teaching traditional ways to children. The final movement, “Cheyenne” (Drum), pounded out the race between humans and bison for dominance and a massive trench that surrounds the Black Hills of South Dakota.
Almost all of the American Indian Symphony was delivered at mezzo-forte to double-forte volume. Quiet passages were few and far between. Some intimate sections would have been welcome. Also, Arrey was much louder than Kunkle, which created an unbalanced sound whenever they were singing at the same time. Still, Tate’s piece gave listeners insight into our nation’s indigenous culture.
