Mario Davidovsky: An Introduction
Eric Chasalow, Mario Davidovsky · 2016
Upon meeting composer Mario Davidovsky, one cannot help but be quickly won over by his openness, warmth, and intensity. There is an immediate, yet respectful sense of intimacy in the way that he read ily shares his thoughts and passions about everything from the state of culture and the history of art and religion to the details of his latest car pentry project. Although he rarely speaks in public about anything, let alone music (including his own), he is phenomenally articulate, and tells fascinating, at times hilarious stories of growing up in Argentina, life in New York City (in 1959 Aaron Copland helped him become a fellow at Tanglewood. Soon after, he came for good) and now Boston. It is perhaps not surprising then, to find that Davidovsky's music shares many of these same qualities in generous proportion. It is clear and compelling, drawing the listener immediately into its personal, idiosyn cratic world, yet it handsomely rewards repeated listening and study. In the context of a decidedly anti-intellectual and market-driven climate for the arts in the United States, Mario Davidovsky's sustained contributions over a career of more than 35 years, are both admirable and remarkable. A consummate musician who always focuses on core musical issues, he has never been concerned with superficial aspects of career. Nor, recognizing the necessity of artistic risk-taking, has he ever taken the easy path. Of late, Mario has become fond of explaining his approach this way: I always enjoyed the challenge of being left in the for a few days with a and a of water. . .1 thought it would be important to try to do the opposite of what came naturally to me. In the 1960s, that desert was the emerging world of elec troacoustic music, and the knife and jug the classic tape studio—the Columbia-Princeton Electronic Music Center. Together with his close