Chicago Tribune: Rare are the classical singers who use their celebrity cachet to help generate new repertory. One shining example is Lawrence Brownlee

Tenor Lawrence Brownlee's "Cycles of My Being" touches on matters of hate, religious faith, black consciousness and, ultimately, hope and unity. (Chris Sweda / Chicago Tribune)

Chicago Tribune

John von Rhein Contact Reporter

February 23, 2018

Rare are the classical singers who use their celebrity cachet to help generate new repertory. One shining example is Lawrence Brownlee, who regards the commissioning of music by living composers and sharing it with audiences around the world an essential part of who he is as a performing artist.

Even so, his involvement with “Cycles of My Being,” the new song cycle he included in his recital Thursday night at the DuSable Museum of African American History, was motivated by something much deeper, something much more personal: Brownlee and his collaborators, composer Tyshawn Sorey and poet Terrance Hayes, wanted to express their feelings, and, crucially, how they are perceived, as African-American men living in a racially divided America.

There can be no denying the worth or pertinence of such an undertaking at a time when black men face acts of violence, incarceration and death on a seemingly day-to-day basis. Classical music has been remiss in addressing themes associated with the Black Lives Matter movement, certainly to the extent that artists working in film, theater, literature and visual art are doing.

And there was no denying the palpable commitment that Brownlee, and his finely supportive accompanist, pianist Myra Huang, brought to this Chicago premiere of “Cycles of My Being.” The duo had taken part in the world premiere Tuesday in Philadelphia, where it was presented with a slightly larger instrumental accompaniment. Opera Philadelphia, where the singer is artistic adviser, co-commissioned the work along with Carnegie Hall and Lyric Unlimited, which sponsored Thursday’s performance.

The cycle of six songs, some to rewritten sonnets by Hayes, a 2014 MacArthur Fellow, and poems by Brownlee himself, steers clear of politics, touching instead on matters of hate, religious faith, black consciousness and, ultimately, hope and unity. Song and speech mingle in songs like the fourth, in which the singer declares, “You don’t know me. Still you hate me.” The overall tone is more of questioning that anger. As Brownlee has said in interviews, there are no raised fists here.