Concerto for Viola and Orchestra

Malek Jandali

Born in Waldbröl, West Germany, December 25, 1972

Haunting, propulsive, passionate, and even humorous by turn, Malek Jandali’s music has won it way into the hearts of audiences and critics alike. Jandali aims to preserve the rich cultural heritage of Syria at a time when it is being eradicated. He does so not in the manner of an archivist but by composing ingenious “living” works that serve his larger goal as an advocate for peace and human rights. He draws on his unique multifaceted heritage and formidable musical skills to weave together evocative music that speaks as a whole rather than as disparate threads.

Classical music played a large role in Jandali’s life from a very young age—first in Germany and then in Syria—through hearing live concerts and his parents’ favorite recordings and through his intensive training as a pianist. As a measure of his talent and dedication, he became the first Syrian to perform Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 prior to receiving a full scholarship to study in the United States. His life in Syria had also surrounded him with the sounds of church bells, calls to prayer from minarets, folk songs, and chants of ancient melodies, so when his studies in the U.S. set him on a natural progression from classical pianist to composer, he just as naturally infused his works with Syrian elements.

Today Jandali continues to appear as a pianist and to compose prolifically. Most recently the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra commissioned The Silent Ocean, which “found a rapt audience at its world premiere” (Washington Post), and which Music Director Marin Alsop described as “an evocative and emotional journey” that “captures the struggle, trauma and triumph of our displaced brothers and sisters, through the voice of a child . . . a beautiful and important message.” Jandali’s rich body of symphonic, chamber, and film works is also represented by a series of acclaimed recordings. Among his most recent albums, Syrian Symphony, SoHo, and Hiraeth were released at Carnegie Hall in 2015, 2016, and 2017, respectively.

Jandali regularly appears as speaker for humanitarian causes and at creative forums. He has spoken at Harvard University, the Skoll World Form at Oxford, Duke University, the Aspen Ideas Festival, Fordham University, the United Nations headquarters, the Doha Debates at Georgetown University in Qatar, the TEDx Talks at Georgia Tech, and Sydney Ideas at the University of Sydney. Recipient of the 2014 Global Music Humanitarian Award, Jandali was also honored in 2015 as a Great Immigrant by the Carnegie Corporation of New York. Further, Jandali is the founder of Pianos for Peace, a remarkable nonprofit organization that presents an annual public art display of painted pianos for anyone to play and enjoy. The pianos are then donated to schools and nursing homes—and most recently Atlanta’s renowned King Center—with the mission of making the arts accessible to all while building peace through music and education.

The inspiration to write a concerto for violist Roberto Díaz came to Jandali when they shared the stage at the U.S. premiere of Jandali’s Phoenix in Exile in February 2017 at the Washington Pavilion. He delivered on his promise of a viola concerto, dedicated to Díaz, which he sent to him that November, saying: “This work integrates Syrian folk tunes and ancient melodies in Schoenberg’s twelve-tone technique. The intention is to create a dissonant field of tension between the most ‘European’ and the traditional ‘Syrian’ and still remain authentic as well as organic in this unique combination.” This Jandalian reinterpretation of dodecaphony makes for a free, totally engaging version that relates to today’s listener. Says Díaz, “I am very much looking forward to presenting it.”

The effervescent sonata-form first movement relies on short motives and rhythms from Syrian folk music but presents them, says Jandali, “in a concerto format with Western forms and harmonies.” The movement’s irresistible perpetual motion is counterbalanced by moments of lovely lyricism both by the viola solo and in the orchestra. The scoring is advantageously spare to highlight the soloist, and the form is free enough to allow for a condensed climactic recapitulation that ends humorously in a quick disappearing act.

The slow movement unfolds as a theme and variations on an ancient Syrian folk melody. One of the many sources Jandali brought with him from Syria was a collection by Ali Darwish (1884–1952) that contained the melody, “Sama’i Ajam,” by Ibrahim Darwish—whether Ali’s father or grandfather is not clear. Jandali was delighted to find all twelve notes of the scale in this extended melody and invented a tone row based on their first appearance. For the theme in 10/8 meter, he also kept the four-verse structure—each played twice in solo viola followed by the orchestra or vice versa—connected with inventive transitions.

To create the third movement Jandali used two Syrian folk tunes—specifically from waslas, referring to bridges in songs used often in Mushawahat and Sufi music. The first in 7/8 meter comes from the maqam “Sazkar” and the second in 19/4 from the maqam “Nawa Athar” as it appears in the muwashah “Ya naisa al ajfan” (O sleepy eyelids). From these Jandali constructed a “distorted” mode (E–F–G-sharp–A–B-flat–C-sharp–D-sharp) for his melodic and harmonic vocabulary. Construction details aside, the movement begins in a scampering, almost furtive hush of anticipation that dissolves and restarts as the viola pairs with a lyrical bassoon melody and an agile clarinet solo. Striking passages of viola double stops and bold chordal interjections bring on an ethereal treble section. Toward the end a soulful slow passage initiates a buildup to a powerful climax and a surprise ending.

—©Jane Vial Jaffe