The Central Park Five (2019), a fine recording of Anthony Davis’ Powerfully Relevant, Pulitzer Prize Winning Opera


Composer Anthony Davis

Anthony Davis has never hesitated to share express his feelings and politics in his music. His operas “X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X” (1986) and “Amistad” (1997) are two recent shining examples.

Album Cover

This most recent of his operas is also one that partakes of more recent political events than the previously mentioned works. It is, by my count, his 8th opera. And though all of Davis’ operas can be said to have some political content, “X”, “Amistad”, and now “The Central Park Five (2019), are most specifically focused on the transatlantic slave trade (ca. 1500- 1870) and subsequent black political history..

Librettist Richard Wesley

The story captured in the libretto by Richard Wesley made newspaper headlines and even motivated the pre presidential Donald Trump to take out full page ad in several media publications advocating their guilt and advocating for the death penalty.

Performance photo by JJ Geiger

While I have had the pleasure of multiple hearings of this powerful and substantial work I have chosen to include the composer’s excellent essay which describes not only the story but also the some of the intricacies and references embedded in the music itself.

Notes on The Central Park Five

By Anthony Davis

1989. A group of predominantly Black and Hispanic teenagers enter Central Park in New York City. They turnover garbage cans, throw rocks, harass people on bicycles. A young woman is sexually assaulted in the Park and six teenagers are detained and questioned about the assault. Five of the teenagers, Kevin Richardson, Raymond Santana, Korey Wise, Yusef Salaam and Antron McCray become the center of a criminal case that would polarize New York City. The Exonerated Five were falsely accused and convicted of the crime with no physical evidence. Condemned publicly by the press, the Exonerated Five were victims in a culture war waged against  Black and Hispanic communities.  A politically ambitious real estate mogul condemns the teenagers with a full page add, proclaiming “Bring Back the Death Penalty. Bring Back Our Police!” The persecution of the Central Park Five marks the beginning of Donald Trump’s political career, built on racial animus and the exploitation of the deep rooted racial divide in America. 

Why? What accounts for what Johnny Cochran would later famously call, “The rush to judgement.” How could the court trust the coerced “confessions” of the five teenagers? How did we come to this moment that assumed guilt, blindly seeking revenge? What caused the deeply rooted anxiety of White Americans when confronted with Black-Hispanic culture  and people? 

1989. Spike Lee’s movie Do the Right Thing premieres, Quincy Jones’ album “Back on the Block” debuts, Black and Hispanic teenagers sing the Tone Loc song “Wild Thing” as they descend on the Park. The song becomes a label in the press as they describe the actions in the Park as “Wilding in the Park.” Did the persecution of the Five represent the White anxiety about Hip Hop entering mainstream American culture? Was the response to the Five a reflection of Tony in the Pizza restaurant smashing Radio Raheem’s boombox? The persecution of the Central Park Five, emblematic of other similar incidents of false accusations of Black and Hispanic men  across the country, demonstrates the devastating consequence of the culture war, as incarceration has become the new slavery.

As a composer, I have always been drawn to stories that intersect the political and cultural worlds. My operas, X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X, Amistad, Wakonda’s Dream, Tania and Pancho Rabbit and the Coyote, all explore political moments and movements that are reflected in the dynamic of music. In X, it is the evolution of creative music from the forties to the sixties, a revolutionary movement in music as well as in politics. In Amistad, it is the false balance of the Missouri Compromise and the untenable grounding of America’s birth in both the ideals of Democracy and the original sin of Slavery. In American music one must always understand the irony that slavery created our culture from the advent of the minstrel show to the “Birth of the Cool.” Music can capture the tensions and fissures in our cultural and political life and the hope of something better. Music can allow us to feel the powerful forces at play in our lives, forces that are at once destructive but yet in our cathartic engagement allow us to envision a kind of freedom.

The Prologue of The Central Park Five begins with the “Exonerated Five” today as they reflect on the past. The opening cross-fade with the Kurzweil texture signify a fissure, a break, the dark spectre of trauma. Each of the Five recalls the trauma of the past. Librettist Richard Wesley ends the Prologue with poignant simplicity, “They tell us in school how big the world is, but that’s their world. They crushed mine.”

Act One introduces a recurring theme and harmony that suggests the past world of Harlem. The lyric, “Harlem, a Black and Tan Fantasy,” of course, suggests Ellington’s Harlem. In fact, before the Masque’s aria, the descending minor 3rd in the baritone saxophone suggests Ellington’s famous Tone Parallel to Harlem from 1949. Ellington describes the descending 3rds that appear throughout the work as signifying and enunciating “Harlem.” The theme is introduced by the Baritone Saxophone and starts as a dirge with variations. The harmony in f minor recalls one of Charles Mingus’ most famous harmonic progressions loosely based on the standard, “You Don’t Know What Love Is,” a ballad made famous by Billie Holiday. The melody is then played by the trombone with a counter-melody inspired by the great Eric Dolphy, played by the Baritone Saxophone and the Bass Clarinet. The theme moves into swing with an iteration by the trumpet. This introduces the Masque’s aria, “Harlem, a Black and Tan Fantasy.” The Masque is a malevolent force in the opera. He is the skeptical reporter, who distrusts Black people. He’s the policeman who arrests and interrogates the five suspects. He is the judge who condemns them.

In Act One the five singers become their younger selves, before they arrive in Central Park. They are exuberant and recklessly free as they talk about their lives and aspirations. The music begins in a gamelan inspired texture with a 9 beat pattern in the vibraphone  and right hand of the piano and a 10 beat pattern in the left hand of the piano. This creates a repeating grid of 90 beats. As in my first opera, X, often I try to marry underlying rhythmic structures with dramatic intent. Every 90 beats something new can happen in the music and in the drama. The orchestra slowly reveals the inner harmonic working of the drone against the free flowing lines of the Five boys. The Masque disturbs and interrupts the Five’s music signaled by a series of cascading major thirds that play against the harmony of the drone establishing a 4 against 3 rhythmic tension, as the music evolves “off the grid.” This leads to a new tempo before the Masque proclaims  “They (Black people) are lost!” The opera explores rhythmic tension that is reinforced by the harmony. The Five defiantly sing “This is my world!” and later the anthem “The World is Ours!” The stable harmony of the anthem is eventually disturbed by the building polyrhythms as the Five become more excited culminating in the antiphonal rhythmic interplay between “This is no life. This ain’t living. This ain’t no life!” and “Time to bust out, time to break out, time break out, time to act out” This leads the Five into the Park. In the music, I tried to capture the exhilaration and exuberance of the Five and their illusion of freedom. As they enter the Park, the Five sing, “We are the freaks! We are the freaks who own the night!” The music in the Park is influenced by everything from Parliament Funkadelic to fusion Miles Davis and Jaco Pastorius with Weather Report. The music captures the exuberance and recklessness of the Park that quickly becomes out of control fueled by  groove and funk.

Music allows us to see different worlds and to shift perspective. As Kevin and Antron are initially detained we hear the echoes of the Blues and again the stop-time from Black and Tan Fantasy as the Masque declares falsely that “That is the end of that.” The anthem music, when it returns as the Assistant District Attorney and the Masque discuss the assault, becomes a distant, shattered memory. The interrogation scenes feature rhythmically driven music as if an ex-machina force is coercing the Five’s confessions. The words of the Masque and the Assistant D.A. are like weapons. The vocal writing is more angular with shifting harmonic centers emphasizing speech rhythms and repetition as the Masque and A.D.A, try to force the Five to implicate each other. This is in contrast with more reflective moments that are lyrical and harmonically grounded. The Five’s collective sense of apprehension and fear is expressed in passages drawn from the vocal ensemble tradition of close harmony from doo-wop, Motown and the street as if through a filter of Gil Evans’ arrangements in “My Ship” or Blues for Pablo. The hybridity of the music tells the story.

A friend once asked me, “How do you write for Donald Trump?” I replied, “First, he is a tenor. Second, he repeats himself in his violent sound bytes. Third, he never completes a sentence.” I tried to capture his use of short, repeating phrases that could be amplified by the chorus. “Wilding, Rampaging, Wilding, Rampaging Wolfpack!” What is Trump’s appeal? Like moths to flame, Trump says things that people may think and be afraid to express. In MAGA world Trump’s racism is somehow authentic and Trump has helped unleash the pathological racism that is both systemic and psychological.  I entertained these scary thoughts as I composed the opera.

Finally, the opera is an uplifting story of a community rising up against injustice, of the Five finally finding exoneration and vindication as the anthem returns with “The World is Ours!” But we know the cost, as Korey says, “They stole from me!” And we know this is a continuing story. The forces that implicated the Five are still with us.

Thank you to the librettist Richard Wesley who illuminated their story with humanity and emotion from Sheronne Salaam’s “They are trying to blame my son” to Korey’s “They stole from me.” None of this would happen without the love and support of my muse, Cynthia Aaronson-Davisuch passionate command. I must recognize the extraordinary work of Earl Howard who created the electro-acoustic world that shadows the opera. I need to call attention to the critical work of Andreas Mitisek who directed the first production in Long Beach and helped realize the dramatic possibilities of the opera. I am indebted to all the musicians and singers who brought this opera to life in Long Beach, Portland and Detroit and, of course, Long Beach Opera, particularly Jenny Rivera and Michelle Magaldi, who believed in the work and help produce this recording. I would also like to thank UCSD for its continued support of my work. None of this would happen without the love and support of my muse, Cynthia Aaronson-Davis.

Another performance photo by JJ Geiger

The opera has received many performances since its premiere by The Long Beach Opera, who commissioned the work. It has since been performed in Detroit, New York, and is scheduled for another performance in Long Beach.

The music incorporates bebop and other jazz styles into a listener friendly melodic and harmonic constructions that set the beautiful libretto’s words effectively.

Davis himself identifies as a politically expressive composer. Even in his non-stage works like his meditation on the first of the so called Miranda Rights (You have the right to remain silent) cast in the classical form of a concerto for clarinet (2007). Arguably, Davis’ work cannot be separated from the experience of Black American culture. Davis, raised in the cultural lineage of transgressional innovators such as George Lewis and his many colleagues of the AACM (American Association of Creative Musicians), a group that still works to include the cultures and rituals of many African countries into the practice of so called western art music). Davis has been a defining figure in contemporary music since at least the 1970s. And now he is recognized as an exemplar of “American” music by virtue of the recognition of the Pulitzer Prize.

As a work of classical protest music, it functions (in Jeremy Eichler’s term) as “times echo”, a use of great art to frame a noxious historical event in a sort of time capsule that preserves memories and feelings of the story that lives again in performance. As such, The Central Park Five stands proudly alongside Hans Werner Henze’s “Essay on Pigs” (1968), Benjamin Britten’s “War Requiem” (1961), and composers as diverse as Dmitri Shostakovich, Luigi Nono, Arnold Schoenberg, Steve Reich, Wynton Marsalis, and Louis Andriessen (to name but a few).

But, as is the case with any artistic work of protest, the actual impact remains to be seen. The horrors of racism remain a defining part of western culture, of American culture now cast forever in this deeply felt drama. This is definitely not, in Toni Morrison’s phrase, “…music to entertain the master and soothe his blunted soul.” And in a time of the active attempts to suppress and deny this unsavory history, art can preserve memories both good and bad.. There is a noble beauty in that.

Art as a voice of protest: Jeremy Eichler’s compelling micro history, “Time’s Echo”


Though the author’s scope ranges from the early 19th century to the present day, it is not a comprehensive history, rather it is a sort of micro history of a musical genre born of sadness, hate, anger, and political dominance. It is a genre I have chosen to call “classical protest music”. And, for the sake of this review, I am referring to the incorporation of protest as a valid and effective modality for the contemporary composer.of so called “western art music”, Until the very late 19th century, music served mostly entertainment, celebration, worship, and memorial functions. But this is about a new, if frequently discomforting voice for this art form.

Music, like drama, and sometimes poetry are art forms that burn most brightly in performance. They exist on a page or even simply within the artist’s mind but come fully alive only in the temporal realm of performance. They then come to exist in the memories of the individuals who experience it. And those memories also exist concurrently within the overall social reality. Politics, philosophy, economics, and spirituality which ultimately frame art are now incorporated into the art form as it talks back to history.

The function of protest music in the popular or vernacular genre, one that arguably has had a greater impact in fomenting political change than protest music in the guise of the western classical tradition, has been well documented. Not so with music of the concert hall classical format.

Jeremy Eichler’s beautifully researched and written micro history makes a case for this art form framing (or reframing) history. Of course, not all expressions of protest hit the target of actually influencing history, but this book is not about that. It is about the birth of a concept little known in music until the late 19th and early 20th century. It is a genre which persists today in the so called political classical genre.

The book is filled with historical facts and people which become metaphors as the author elucidates the historical contexts that, in retrospect, can be seen as the genesis of art not just passively responding to historical events. They are attempts to use art to comment about and, hopefully influence history and to express outrage, sadness, and to call for change.

Music, ever the realm of entertainment and celebration, now increasingly finds purpose and mechanism to participate, not only as a supplier of entertainment and homage, but also as “a voice crying in the wilderness” in dialogue with the social/political milieu.

Eichler chooses four musical pieces by four different composers from four different time periods to tell the story of the evolution of western art music to speak with in an informed, publicly intellectual voice. In its ideal presentation, it succeeds best when it resonates with the hearts and minds of the audience. That can and sometimes does “go viral” (in common parlance) and subsequently influences public opinion.

The musical exemplars the author chooses includes:

Richard Strauss (1864-1949) “Metamorphosen” (1946)

Arnold Schoenberg (1874-1951) “A Survivor from Warsaw” (1947)

Benjamin Britten (1913-1976) “War Requiem”(1962)

Dimitri Shostakovich (1906-1975) “Symphony No. 13 ‘Babi Yar’” (1962)

Each composer, each work is subjected to historical, philosophical, and (I would say) spiritual/mystical analysis. And, to accomplish this, he goes back first to the early 19th century to discuss the rise of the idealized German gconcept of “Bildung” and the subsequent rise of antisemitism famously touted as a necessary fact by Richard Wagner (1813-1883) and subsequently amplified to the extreme of The Shoah.

Many musical works are referenced here, but John Foulds “A World Requiem” (1923), which is a large grandiose work of post romantic grandeur that seems to embody many of the elements that have come to characterize classical protest music. The work, written for large forces incorporates both liturgical and non-liturgical texts from disparate sources (not just western literature). It was conceived seemingly as a sort of final statement, a “requiem to end all requiems”, so to speak. Though popular in its day, it no more succeeded in preventing violence and hatred than Alexander Scriabin (1872-1915) in his unfinished Mysterium” succeeded in making the composer an immortal in a transcendent realm described from the spiritual imagination of Theosophical writings. But it did make a huge impact on protest as a valid modality for the artist. Protest in any modality doesn’t always have the intended impact. The point is the statement itself.

Foulds’ work can be seen as a sort of precursor, if not template for Britten’s “War Requiem”. More importantly the success of Foulds’work revealed a sympathetic audience who doubtless saw in it a clarion call, a grandly hopeful expression to an audience hungry to resolve the hatred, anger, and sadness of the increasingly divided and chaotic world as it evolved post 1919. It spoke to a fervent hope for healing and transcendence and remains a historically significant work of musical art.

Doubtless, many composers were delighted to identify this burgeoning need. Countless works followed Foulds’ noble effort and continue to this day in larger and smaller forces. Protest music, visual art, poetry, and drama are born of pain, sorrow, and hope derived from a sometimes pleading, sometimes shouting optimism. Much like audience engagement in sing alongs, audiences are invited to participate politically, emotionally and share the pain, sadness, and outrage as art speaks back to society rather than simply decorating it or celebrating it. Now, art embraces critique, not simply memorial.

Eichler discusses each composer and work, contextualizing them historically, geographically, emotionally, and philosophically/spiritually.

Richard Strauss

He begins then, with Richard Strauss (1864-1949) and the only work cited here that does not have a vocal component or a text. It is also more a personal reaction rather than an a work explicitly engaging with politics and history. It remains the most unique and enigmatic piece in the oeuvre of a man who remained, if not always happily, employed from the late nineteenth century, through two world wars and horrific historical events and wildly differing leaders. To this listener’s ears, it seems more of a catharsis, a musical processing of the composer’s emotions and possibly exorcizing them and containing them in this music. It is truly a powerful piece but it does not rise to the more explicit protest works that would follow in the mid twentieth century.

Arnold Schoenberg

A very convincing and insightful analysis is made of the next exemplar of the genre. Eichler’s biographical, historical, and philosophical/spiritual contextualizing of “A Survivor from Warsaw” (1947) seems an unusual choice. But, the fact that this brief monodrama is probably the first major public utterance of the rising awareness of the atrocities described by the narrator and focused attention in a way that only art can. It was also the development of the composer’s revolutionary serially organized music which was, perhaps ironically, very well suited to express the horrors of this age of “great wars”.

This section of the book is a masterful integration of political, historical, spiritual elements that provide a compelling mini history, linking individuals and events that shed a fascinating (and devastating) light on this era in musical history. It also places the composer most definitely as a protester, a would be agent of progressive political change. It led this listener to seek to experience more of Schoenberg’s music and was gratified to hear it forever differently and, more so than ever, more essential within western art music.

The work was a resounding success at its world premiere in, of all places, New Mexico. The Albuquerque Civic Symphony conducted by Kurt Frederick. 1600 people crowded into the Carlisle Gymnasium on November 4, 1948 were so pleased that the work was repeated, in full, to a deeply moved audience.

Hearing this music now, available in many fine interpretations on CD and in video formats, it is all the more stunning that this hardly easy listening tale about horrific events played so well and hit so deeply. And I will never again think of this as one of the composer’s lesser works.

Benjamin Britten

Moving on to Benjamin Britten and his 1962 “War Requiem”. This music has a prominent place for this writer, having heard a performance by the Chicago Symphony conducted by Mstislav Rostropovich. The cellist, turned conductor was a lifelong progressive political advocate who facilitated a meeting which would become a friendship between Britten and Dmitri Shostakovich among his accomplishments.

But, I digress. Eichler’s framing of this composer and music shows a true pacifist composer who encountered the horrors of the First World War as well as subsequent atrocities perhaps one step removed geographically and culturally from the experience of Strauss and Schoenberg. He was a student, then a composer/pianist much admired and supported by the British as he steadily earned his place on the world stage.

Early in his rising successes, he managed to insinuate himself to play piano in a series of concerts with Yehudi Menuhin, that toured through war torn Europe to great acclaim. And it is here that the composer encountered first hand, the sights, the stories, the emotions that would forever inform and transform him and his music.

This experience is likely one of the seeds that led to the 1962 requiem. Britten utilized the form and Latin texts of the “Missa Pro Defunctis” , the Roman Catholic funeral rites. And he adds a chamber group that plays onstage in front of the full orchestra and chorus (I recall seeing a children’s chorus singing from the topmost seats in Orchestra Hall). The chamber group supports a tenor and a baritone who sing Britten’s settings from the late soldier, then poet/activist Wilfred Owen’s vividly sad and angry poetry. This is a guise not unlike what Leonard Bernstein would do in his anti war “Mass” some 12 years later.

Notably, the premiere was to have included tenor Peter Pears (Britten’s life and musical partner), baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, and soprano Galina Vishnevskaya (later the wife of Mstislav Rostropovich). However the Soviet government prevented her from performing this politically hot work. The hope of symbolically including British, German, and Russian artists was to further emphasize the message of the work. Though Vishnevskaya did participate in the glorious 1963 DECCA recording, she was replaced (most successfully) by the fine British soprano Heather Harper for the premiere. Britten himself conducted the chamber group at the premiere with Meredith Davies leading the large orchestra, choir and soloists.

The roofless remains of the original Coventry Cathedral

In discussing the War Requiem, Eichler recounts his pilgrimage to the site of the newly rebuilt Coventry Cathedral which had been very badly damaged in the war and the work was commissioned to celebrate the consecration of the new edifice which was built next to the 14th century ruins, ruins through which the audience passed following the very successful premiere on July 27th, 1962. Eichler reports that his own experience walking through the ruins was a powerful experience even now, but especially when one knows this history.

Dmitri Shostakovich

For the book’s finale, Eichler chose a too little known Shostakovich Symphony, his 13th (1962) ( later titled “Babi Yar”). The composer had worked under the repression of the Soviet Empire at least since his opera “Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District” disturbed the Soviet leadership in the 1930s. But he managed to get in a few significant political punches during his long career and continued to produce substantial and fresh new music until his death in 1975.

His 5th Symphony won him favor again with the Soviets and the composer’s 7th Symphony “Leningrad”, a paean to the ultimate victory over Nazi forces in 1944 is the stuff of legend, being performed on March 29th of 1942, literally during the siege of Leningrad. Musician soldiers were relieved of their war duties in order to have enough musicians to perform it and strategic bombing raids were done to redirect Nazi bombings and ensure that the music would be heard at its embattled premiere.

Eichler’s choice of the 13th Symphony is an apt choice to fit the author’s thesis. The work is a cri de couer, an angry lament raising the awareness of a genocidal slaughter, the evidence of which survived multiple efforts to erase the facts and the evidence from history. It sets the words of the fine Russian poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko (1932-2017) in his poem “Babi Yar” that provided the words. It refers, of course to the genocidal mass murders of Jews, dissidents, and others deemed not worthy of being allowed to live in the Nazi regime at the ravine so named. Accounts vary and much had been done to cover up the murders which numbered up to 30, 000 a day. In fact, there did not exist a memorial for some 100, 000 killed at Babi Yar until 1992.

The 13th Symphony premiered on December 18, 1962 in the Great Hall of the Moscow Conservatory. Kiril Kondrashin conducted. Despite controversy and attempts to tamper with the words, pressure to stop the premiere, it was a rousing success. This was only some seven months after the premiere of the Britten War Requiem.

Eichler’s account could have ended here but for the fact that, in addition to facilitating a meeting between Britten and Shostakovich, Mistislav Rostropovich smuggled a copy of the 1963 DECCA recording of the War Requiem and a score so that Shostakovich could hear it. And listen he did, with enthusiasm such that Shostakovich was inspired to respond in what would become the composer’s 14th Symphony which was dedicated to Britten. Hence the arts had a conversation about the atrocities of war like never before.

The work, incorporating poems by various poets on the subject of death was premiered officially on September 29th, 1969 in Leningrad by the Moscow Chamber Orchestra conducted by Rudolph Barshai. It appears to be inspired in part by the composer’s 1962 orchestration of Modest Mussorgsky’s song cycle, “Songs and Dances of Death” (ca. 1875) and perhaps Gustav Mahler’s “Kindertotenlieder” (1904).

The response at the premiere, hardly devoid of criticism, was another resounding success for the aging, ailing composer. The UK premiere was conducted at Aldeburgh by its dedicatee, Benjamin Britten, also to great acclaim.

Eichler’s book elegantly describes the genesis of these five works inspired by the history of very real and very shameful atrocities of some 50 years of conflicts which, though they may never be resolved, are truly “Time’s Echo” encased in artistic amber as it were. The memory of this reviewer’s experience of witnessing Maestro Rostrpovich’s reading of Britten’s Requiem so many years later and indeed all subsequent performances of the music chosen here by Eichler hold out a glimmer of hope that these echoes of their time will preserve both the memories of the atrocities themselves as well as the just outrage of the artist’s products in sound for posterity.