Starburst

Starburst runs continuously, with no breaks between sections, and unfolds more like a single held breath than a piece with movements. It opens with a quick flurry of activity in the strings, fragments of melody tossed between sections almost before you can catch them. Listen for the way the music keeps changing color: a bright idea flares up in the violins, then just as quickly gives way to something in the low strings or winds, as if the ensemble is passing a spark from player to player. There is no traditional slow middle section to rest in; instead the piece keeps its momentum from start to finish, building through short, overlapping phrases rather than one long unbroken melody. Rhythms shift unpredictably, sometimes feeling off-balance or asymmetrical, which gives the piece its restless, sparking quality. Dynamics swell and recede quickly rather than building toward one big climax. The ending arrives abruptly, almost before the ear expects it, as though the burst simply exhausts itself. For a first listen, the best approach is to let go of trying to track a single tune and instead notice the constantly shifting instrumental colors and the sense of controlled chaos held together by a steady pulse underneath.

Jessie Montgomery wrote Starburst for string orchestra, and it has since become one of her most frequently performed works, often used to open concerts because of its brevity and immediate energy. Montgomery, a violinist as well as a composer, has described her interest in exploring the physical and coloristic possibilities of string instruments, and Starburst grew out of that interest, compressing a wide range of orchestral color into a very short span. Since its early performances, the piece has been taken up widely by American orchestras, frequently paired with new-music initiatives or used as a curtain-raiser before a full program. It remains one of the most widely programmed short orchestral works by a living American composer.