When I’m asked to write an article about the ETHEL and Robert Mirabal performance on October 14, I look at it much like any other writing assignment. I think the show concept is cool but not much else. I do the things I’m supposed to do: I read past interviews, I listen to past music, and I try to find connections with our community. Within three songs, I’m converted to a fan. Within three albums, I know that I’ll be waiting with bated breath for the next collaboration between not just ETHEL and Robert Mirabal, but almost anything ETHEL does. Most of all, I can’t wait to speak with Ralph Farris, the viola and artistic director (alongside Dorothy Lawson) of ETHEL.
ETHEL, like most string quartet artists in the Classical Convergence series, departs from classical music. While they have all the string quartet instruments, they have diverged in almost every way possible at some point in their career. Most notably, their music is driven by the lower tones by centering the viola and the cello. “Violins are best when they are duking it out,” laughs Farris.
Before ETHEL met Robert Mirabal and formed a lifelong friendship, they had been on the road for a decade, flying into towns, performing, packing up and leaving quickly after. “You don’t really get to encounter the communities and we weren’t making any personal connections.” From those experiences, the idea of TruckStop was born.
It can be hard to tell the difference between TruckStop and the other projects ETHEL pursues because at its soul, it is about collaboration with musicians and artists from widely varied backgrounds—from Appalachian shape note singers and Hawaiian slack-key guitarists to indigenous musicians and Tejano Conjunto maestros.
Among the superstars ETHEL wanted to connect with was Robert Mirabal, the Grammy-winner and Taos Pueblo Elder, and ETHEL was no stranger to working with indigenous musicians. ETHEL has a history of making space in a largely Westernized music tradition. They have worked with Navajo and Hopi nation students the conjunction with the Native American Composer Apprentice Program (NACAP) and also Chickasaw composers, culminating in the first recording of string quartet music by American Indian composers (Oshtali).
Farris is careful how he speaks about these two projects and Mirabal. Native American culture isn’t a monolith, and he does not want to give that impression. Still, I can’t help but see a solid throughline in their work with different cultures in America that leads to their upcoming performance with Robert Mirabal on October 14 at the University Center for the Arts.
“The work that we did with NACAP afforded us a chance, in a gentle and loving way, to have a look at how we were approaching our work as musicians who read music and give feedback to composers,” says Farris. “Of course, we had a certain expertise with our instruments, but it stops right there. We were coming to someone’s world and visiting their land and their people and looking for a connection between what they have to offer and what is put onto paper. What we learned over the ten years with NACAP is that we knew absolutely nothing.”
“We were here to find a way to make these little boxes sound like the spirit and the color and the history of the stories that are being told by NACAP’s extraordinary young people,” continues Farris. “Being with those students continued to underscore the importance of shutting up and listening, and realizing that no matter what we thought, we didn’t have any answer.”
“I talk a lot. You could tell me to stop talking and I’ll still keep talking,” Farris admits. “But for me, it was about being in a space where I just needed to be quiet and listen; to understand that these young people come from a space that has very little to do with my own background. And isn’t it marvelous that I’m here to help figure out how to replicate the sound of a thunderstorm on a viola? To make a Navajo grandfather sing through a guitar amp?”
Being with these young composers opened ETHEL to real openness. “That just helped continue our understanding that this is what we’re doing. We’re finding ways to connect these little notes on paper to what these young people want to express. It doesn’t necessarily relate to when we were studying Bach. It just doesn’t.”
Not wanting to put words in Farris’ mouth, I asked about my own experiences and if they mirrored how he felt. In music theory, I felt like the world revolved around forbidding parallel fifths and focussing on perfect pitch, only to find out later in life that Iranian music has 24 micro-tones. I told Farris that I finally felt like I understood my frustration in trying to recreate melodies I loved outside the Western canon on a keyboard with its militantly-tuned harmonies. This was a whole new world that I felt like Western music theory was hiding. “Yeah,” says Farris. “It’s just a trip to realize there is this whole other world to music that people just don’t necessarily take the time to explore. It’s a real pleasure to get into that.”
Like most things in life, ETHEL’s path from starting as an alternative classical band in Brooklyn to being on stage with Robert Mirabal is long and meandering. “The honesty of working with young people is something you hold onto when you’re seeking folks of different generations.” ETHEL’s experiences color one another, and it creates an incredible soundscape when partnered with the Mirabal. First, in the album The River, and then in the future work, Red Willow Suite commissioned by the Taos Chamber Music Group.
“It’s a really special thing that we’ve built with Robert. We are truly honored to be welcomed into his world and his work. I don’t know how we got so lucky, because it’s just a miraculous gift to share that space with him, to commune and build ceremony on that stage with him.”
Of course, I have to ask the basic question. What is it like to work with Mirabel? Farris immediately laughs. “He has the gleam in the eye of a nine-year-old. He’s a prankster forever. When he first met me, he stole my shoe. Not my shoes. My shoe. I think I lost it in Cleveland, and after a year and a half I finally found it… at a gig in Denver.”
“He has that childlike innocence,” Farris continues, “but at the same time, he’s blowing your mind with his depth and heart. He carries such a big, wonderful and embracing spirit for everyone.”
The relationship is clearly deep. ETHEL has worked with Mirabal for more than a decade. They are close with his children and grandchildren. They stay in his home when they collaborate. So, I asked what direction ETHEL takes while working with Mirabal this time around.
“We built pieces after Robert’s telling of histories and his experience as a Taos Pueblo elder. It’s also about our experiences with Robert in his home and his community,” Farris says. “We are slowly building the next iteration of the program. Every time we work with Robert, we add more.”
Will the show on October 14 be old music, or new pieces? A little of both actually. It will include pieces from The River and Music of the Sun, but also new works from the Red Willow Suite.
“The whole angle on the program is more personal. We are getting deep into the stories of the Taos Pueblo peoples. The piece ‘Rings’ specifically has taken an interesting journey, but also very challenging.”
When I ask what the challenge is, Farris explains the complicated history of a man named Thurlow Lieurence who recorded melodies sung by different nations in North America and released the book Indian Song. While this may feel along the same lines of Béla Bartók, who collected the folks songs of Hungary, or Percy Grainger who focused on English folk music, Lieurence does not have membership in the communities he recorded. He also indulged in what modern eyes would note are appropriative practices when performing the music he recorded.
“I took some of the songs that Lieurence had recorded from Taos Pueblo and reintegrated them into a sound that was Robert and ETHEL. Here’s where it gets tricky. It does seem very likely that Lieurence recorded Robert’s grandfather. Without getting too deep into it, by playing ‘Rings’ we are probably communing with Robert’s grandfather. That is a very powerful thing for Robert, but for others in the community, it’s a challenge. We certainly understand and respect that, but Robert is our collaborator and Robert stands with the representation and he wants to share it.”
Farris expounds, “All the questions about cultural appropriation, holding true to the integrity of the original work, utilitarian music versus concert music and ceremony versus performance—we are with you 100% of the way, but also to say it’s all handled and solved when we play it, takes away from the experience of when we play it.”
Ultimately, Farris feels that ETHEL is “giving space for Robert to be with his history and his family. His songs and his family’s songs. It’s a tremendously powerful experience for us all.”
All of this sounds more than incredible to me, so it feels almost selfish when I ask if there is anything else Fort Collins can look forward to. I’m pleased to find out there is.
“The show is always continuing to evolve,” answers Farris. “Every show we do with Robert is different. Robert is just never interested in the same.” The show will include old music, new music, unreleased music, stories and meditation. “For anyone who’s seen us perform The River or Music of the Sun,” Farris adds, “it will still be a different show because our new works add so much to our previous soundscapes.”
There is so much to look forward to on October 14 and I hope you will join The Lincoln Center and Colorado State University as we welcome ETHEL and Robert Mirabal to the Griffin Concert Hall stage. Tickets start at $39 and are available at LCtix.com.