The Dover Quartet appears Nov. 3 at Hertz Hall in Cal Performances’ Illuminations: “Fractured History” series with impeccable timing. Featuring the work of Jerod Impichchaachaaha’ Tate, the prestigious string quartet presents an afternoon concert on the third day of Native Heritage Month. Tate, an Emmy Award-winning classical music composer, is a citizen of the Chickasaw Nation in Oklahoma. Tate’s middle name, Impichchaachaaha’, means “his high corncrib” in English, and references a traditional Chickasaw hut built on stilts to protect stored corn and other vegetables from foraging animals.
Two-time Grammy-nominated Dover Quartet centers the blend of American Indigenous and Western classical music found in Tate’s Abokkoli’ Taloowa’ (Woodland Songs), a Cal Performances’ co-commission, and an arrangement of Rattle Songs by Tuscarora/Taino composer and musician Pura Fé, within a mixed program. Included are composer Jessie Montgomery’s “Strum” and Dvořák’s “American Quartet,” which bookend Tate’s work to reveal the diversity and connections found in jazz, bluegrass, Indigenous-American music and Western classical music. Dover’s members are Joel Link, violin; Bryan Lee, violin; Julianne Lee, viola; and Camden Shaw, cello.
In an interview, Tate said he resists efforts made to categorize his work as “classical” or “Indigenous,” or reviewers applying other labels. “I don’t walk around as a category. It’s just music I dig. I listen to all kinds of music,” he said. “We’re a Spotify world. Everything is available. That isn’t in conflict with history. It’s natural, and all the music fits within our human language.”
Woodland Songs gives five animals voice: squirrel, woodpecker, deer, fish and raccoon. Traditional Chickasaw family clans are named after revered animals: Tate’s family is Shawi’ Iksa’, Raccoon Clan. The five movements dedicated to individual animals offer rich Chickasaw melodies, rhythms and musical structures. “Each animal has its own melody, and I dive into their characters,” Tate said. “The squirrel is diabolical, chattering, quick, darting around. If a squirrel bites you, it’s no picnic, but they’re oddly comical at the same time they’re vicious. You’ll hear biting staccatos but also ponticello [a bowing technique used to create an eerie sound].”
Often depicted in Indigenous art, woodpeckers are sometimes painted over the eyes of Native warriors to signify wisdom and worldliness. Tate composed for the woodpecker flying, fluttering and pecking sounds played high in string registers. In contrast the deer movement is deeply romantic, using the second violin’s lowest register in the work’s slowest section to portray the powerful, majestic Deer Woman, about which there are many stories in his culture.
“Fish, I made oceanic. The rivers in Oklahoma were like massive highways for our people. The cello and viola create aquatic waves, and this is where long phrases support the ideas,” Tate said. “Chickasaw had enormous canoes, and there were huge gar fish. They moved gracefully through the water despite being up to eight feet long. They’re also friendly, loving. You can literally hang out and snuggle with a gar.”
The raccoon replicates Tate’s personality. “It’s very big, very back-and-forth, very fun. There’s a celebratory war dance at the end that’s actually quite bluegrass-y. It’s an homage to native fiddlers throughout North America and starts by darting around before settling. Bluegrass and jazz are in the mix,” he said.
Pura Fé’s Rattle Songs was originally composed for her ensemble Ulali, a First Nations women’s a cappella trio. The vocal sounds and rhythms of turtle-shell shaking are orchestrated in Tate’s string quartet not as imitations but with layers of impressionistic, post-modern style intention. “There are whole ‘quartet-ized’ Beatles albums,” he said. “People are becoming more familiar with string quartets working with popular music: There’s ABBA, Linkin Park. I just happen to be a classical composer bringing my Indigenous sensibility to the music.”
Fé, when Tate called to ask about orchestrating the work for Dover, said only, “Go for it.” Her hands-off response, he suggests, was largely due to his having listened to the songs for 30 years and having them “percolating” in his spirit. Precisely transcribing the music required numerous weeks. From that foundation, Tate allowed himself to think freely.
Adapting any work to a new format or presentation involves compromises, but also offers opportunity for enhancements. “I had to find artistic substitutions, but I was never trying to make the strings sound like replications of percussion rattles. There’s only one place where I did that—the cello plays with a chopping technique—and only because it worked. There’s a little bit of mystery to string quartet orchestration,” Tate said. “These songs became more theatrical, cinematic; almost like a film score. I’m fumbling for words: People just have to go and check it out.”
When it comes to Dover, there is no fumbling. “I compose for the ideal circumstances,” Tate said. “I expect and compose for musicians with great artistry, technicality, intelligence and flexibility. Dover? These are phenomenal musicians. At the premiere, they knocked my music out of the ballpark. Now they’re touring it, and I’m anxious to meet them on the other side and hear it live again.”
Busy with numerous commissions and projects, a recording session planned for January 2025 might be Tate’s next opportunity. Fortunately for Bay Area audiences, the wait is not nearly so long.
