Composer Tod Machover heads the Opera of the Future project at MIT's Media Lab, and that term nicely describes his Death and the Powers: The Robots' Opera. It is clearly recognizable as opera: It has a story and characters, and its full-blooded arias, elegantly illuminating the apt (if occasionally self-conscious) text by the poet Robert Pinsky, are sung with passionate intensity by humans. The "future" part is embodied both in the orchestral writing, which skillfully combines acoustic and electronic music to create a remarkable range of colors and levels, and in the staging: not just the rather charming robots that grow, shrink and whiz around the stage, but the way that technology creates the playing environment, even allowing the main character's performance to influence and animate the set. Technique relates to theme. The opera is about what it means to be human, and what technology adds or subtracts. Simon Powers, a dying billionaire, has devised a "System" whereby his consciousness is uploaded into the walls and the objects of his room, enabling him to live forever without his body. The drama comes from his family's reactions to this disembodied being who surrounds them as a voice, a Teflon-strung, bird-like chandelier, and tall "bookcases" of flashing, trembling, color-changing lights [notes thanks to Heidi Waleson/The Wall Street Journal]. Listen to a wonderful performance of Miranda's Aria, from Death and the Powers (2010) . . it's one of our NEW MUSIC VIDEOS for the week.

Dave Brubeck has composed classical works with jazz elements at least since the 1960's. His first large choral piece, The Gates of Justice, suffers from, mainly, inexperience - among other things, routinely sending soloists into their topmost range, over-complicating the texture beyond the ability of players to distinguish inner lines. Despite this, however, the oratorio gave plenty of hope that Brubeck would work through these problems. The Gates of Justice was far more than an excuse for a cynical promoter to cash in on Brubeck's popularity as a performer, unlike, say, EMI and Paul McCartney's Liverpool Oratorio. For one thing, Brubeck knew something about how to write paragraphs extended beyond those of song, or, in the case of jazz playing, choruses. One also sensed a mind constantly exploring musical connections between such superficially disparate things as the blues and Jewish cantorial singing. So check out Telarc Records' Classical Brubeck (Telarc 80621 which features so of Dave Brubeck's other choral works: Beloved Son (1978); Pange Lingua Variations (1983); Voice of the Holy Spirit (Tongues of Fire) (1985); and the instrumental Regret (2001) . . . it's our FEATURED RECORDING for the week.

According to composer Judd Greenstein, "Be There (2008) is a continuation of my effort to strip down my musical language to its essential components, to be fluid and Romantic and gestural and rhythmic all at the same time, without calling undue attention to those features or qualities. When I am writing music, and things are going well, I feel that I am present in the moment of the music's creation, a present-ness that is more full than any other I know. To "be there" is the best state that there is; it's the state of complete association with life and living, an association that is the utter antidote to the dissociative forces of anxiety and fear. Whether Be There expresses that idea to other listeners, fully, partially, or not at all, it somehow conveys that meaning to me. Many thanks to Colin Jacobsen and Peggy Kampmeier for their support in bringing the work to life" . . . . it's one of our PYTHEAS EARFULS for the week.

. . . and have a listen to Michael Torke's  Green (Verdant Music) (1986) . . . it's this week's FROM THE PYTHEAS ARCHIVES.