(++++) AS ADEPT AS ALWAYS

The Best 390 Colleges, 2025. By Robert Franek with David Soto, Stephen Koch, Aaron Riccio, Laura Rose, and the staff of The Princeton Review. Princeton Review/Penguin Random House. $26.99.

     Ralph Waldo Emerson is consistently misquoted as having said that “consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds,” when what he really wrote (in Self-Reliance, in prose that almost scans as poetry) was “a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.” Consistency of the unfoolish sort can in fact be something quite admirable, and it is this type that is offered year after year by The Princeton Review’s encyclopedic college guides – including the 2025 version, whose college count continues a slightly odd tradition of its own by being one number higher than in the previous year (390 schools profiled for 2025, with 389 for 2024, 388 in the book’s 2023 version, 387 for 2022, 386 in 2021, and 385 for 2020). The price of the 2025 guide remains the same as a year ago, another welcome snippet of consistency and perhaps an indicator of moderating inflationary pressures (although using that as an economic indicator tips over into “foolish consistency” territory).

     The Best 390 Colleges, 2025 is in fact a once-over-not-too-lightly exploration of only 7% or so of the 5,000-plus schools of higher education in the United States, or (as the book itself says) “only the top 13 percent of the approximately 3,000 four-year colleges in the nation.” Of course, as Harvard’s Tom Lehrer pointed out six decades ago, stats are in the mind of the beholder (he actually said “filth…is in the mind of the beholder,” but hey, who’s paying attention?). The relevant point here, in any case, is that despite its heft (some 900 oversize pages), this book is a sampling rather than a comprehensive presentation. It is, however, a very well-organized and well-produced sampling, and the two-page “How We Produce This Book” introduction is as good a place as any to start mining the nuggets of knowledge buried in it.

     There is a lot to dig up here, not because the book is difficult to explore – a great deal of work has gone into making it as easy to use as possible – but because every family’s needs, desires and hopes where college is concerned are so different. By presenting each school in exactly the same way, on two pages with central “Students Say,” “The Princeton Review Says” and “The School Says” sections and marginalia giving data on everything from total and broken-down-by-categories enrollment to financial realities, The Best 390 Colleges, 2025 lets families do side-by-side comparisons to help them evaluate the pluses and minuses of specific schools. As a matter of fact, one of these days it wouldn’t hurt to have a page-perforated version of this book, since each family will be interested in only a handful of these many colleges and one of the best ways to cross-compare them is to tear out the schools’ respective pages so as to be able literally to view them side by side. That gets messy.

     The key to the most-effective use of The Best 390 Colleges, 2025 is to narrow down the list of schools worth considering so as not to be overwhelmed by the sheer heft of the book and the sheer amount of data it contains. The book itself makes this easy for students and families already focused on specific fields of study, thanks to a section called “Great Schools for 21 of the Most Popular Undergraduate Majors” – everything from A (accounting) to P (psychology). There are other lists as well, lots of them: “Best Classroom Experience,” “Most Accessible Professors,” “Friendliest Students,” “Best College Radio Station,” even “Lots of Beer” and “Pot’s Not Hot” (contrasted with “Reefer Madness”). And there are lists focusing on career placement, alumni networks, entrepreneurship, even game design. There is also some very useful back-of-the book information, including an index by location (crucial for families limited to specific geographic regions by choice or necessity), an index by tuition costs (crucial to just about everybody), and a listing, in addition to the titular 390 schools, of 241 regional colleges “that we consider academically outstanding and well worth consideration in your college search” – although anyone interested in these schools will have to reach out to them directly, since details on them are not provided.

     The point for the latest edition of this always-excellent guide is consistent with the point of previous editions: the start of the search for a good match of college to student lies outside the book, with student and family consideration of what factors matter the most for each individual’s specific situation. After a decision is made on the individual factors that are most important, a review of the various lists in The Best 390 Colleges, 2025 makes it possible to narrow down the choosing process to schools meeting the desired criteria – and then, and only then, does it make sense to turn to the pages offering detailed information and commentary on each school. The Best 390 Colleges, 2025 is neither a starting point nor an end point in the college search – it exists on the middle ground between figuring out a focus and actually applying to whatever number of schools students and families decide would be worthwhile. The book, year after year, delivers on its underlying premise with well-designed, easy-to-use layout and presentation and solid, data-driven analysis, and does it all with a consistency that is anything but foolish.

(++++) A STRONG SENSE OF FLOW

Beethoven: The Middle String Quartets—Op. 59, Nos. 1-3; Op. 74; Op. 95. Calidore String Quartet (Jeffrey Myers and Ryan Meehan, violins; Jeremy Barry, viola; Estelle Choi, cello). Signum Classics. $37.99 (3 CDs).

     The release-in-reverse Signum Classics cycle of the Beethoven string quartets by the Calidore String Quartet, which started with the late quartets rather than the early ones, approaches the middle quartets – which are the middle release no matter what order a complete set appears in – with the same mixture of meticulous ensemble playing and convincing (if sometimes unusual) tempo choices that pervaded the players’ handling of the late quartets. Theirs are performances with tremendous attention to nuance and detail, not only in the music itself but also in their technique – for instance, the quartet members not only play with carefully matched vibrato but also avoid vibrato altogether from time to time, also as a group, thus changing the character of the music without altering the notes or tempo in any way.

     Beethoven’s tempo markings for his quartets (and other music) continue to provoke discussion and dissension, the consensus being that they are often simply too fast to allow the music the breadth that seems inherent in it. The Calidore players make an effective argument, purely on a musical basis, that this is not necessarily so. The opening Allegro of Op. 59, No. 1, and the concluding Allegro molto of Op. 59, No. 3, to cite two examples, are played at or close to Beethoven’s metronome indications, and the movements not only work but also show just how revolutionary the “Razumovsky” quartets were in their time. In fact, at this pace and with this precision, the quartets have an impact that makes them, despite their familiarity nowadays, sound new again.

     Nor do the Calidore players always proceed at near-breakneck speed; this is scarcely a monochromatic set of interpretations. The third-movement Allegretto of Op. 59, No. 2, for example, is paced quickly but not overly so, and here the performers emphasize the attractive syncopations to very fine effect. And the Andante con moto quasi allegretto second movement of Op. 59, No. 3, although it moves a bit too quickly for a sense of dreaminess, is effective through its finely honed dynamic contrasts and excellently accented ensemble.

     The slower movements are attentively handled throughout, if perhaps not always quite as convincingly as the speedier ones. The Adagio molto e mesto of Op. 59, No. 1, and Molto adagio of Op. 59, No. 2, are suitably tender but not always emotionally deep, although the emotive first-violin climax in No. 1 glows with intensity that is not always evident earlier in the movement. Interestingly, the Adagio ma non troppo second movement of Op. 74 (“Harp”) seems a bit too slow to sustain well, but it does, thanks to highly lyrical playing that does not overstep into too-Romantic excess. In the notoriously difficult-to-fathom Op. 95 (“Serioso”), the outer movements are outstanding, packed with intense drive while still possessing occasional flickers of soon-extinguished cantabile material – this performance fully highlights the emotional as well as technical complexity of the work. The middle movements are not quite as convincing: the peculiarly marked third movement, Allegro assai vivace, ma serioso, is actually a bit on the slow side, rendering its mixture of forms (a kind of march/dance) less apparent. But it is important to note here, as in the Calidore’s recording of the late quartets, that every single nitpick of these versions is a nitpick: there is precious little here that does not work on its own terms, and in fact the players’ sit-up-and-take-notice approach again and again sheds new light on the music and justifies their handling of it even when what they do is a bit outside the performance mainstream. As in their recording of the late quartets, the sheer technical prowess of the Calidore String Quartet is everywhere on display here, their interpretative abilities shine through again and again, and the commitment and excellence of ensemble that pervade this release place it among the very best recordings of this repertoire available today.

(+++) THE ROAD TO PURPOSE

Let’s Change the World: How to Work within International Development Organizations to Make a Difference. By Emiliana Vegas, Ed.D. Rowman & Littlefield. $28.

     The drive to make things better, to improve the planet we all share, may be no more urgent today than in the past – but in our technology-driven world, it certainly seems more urgent, as we are exposed to so much more detail about everything that is bad or wrong, everything that falls short of some sort of ideal (with the various ideals often being culturally determined – an issue in itself). In the past, the urge to improve things tended to be locally focused, if only because knowledge of distant places was less and speed of communication much less than is the case today. Now, though, young people have instant access to just about anywhere, and to information regarding just about anything, and they can and do focus on events everywhere in the world – with greater understanding than young people had in the past of just how interconnected disparate countries, cultures and concerns really are.

     How to navigate this? Harvard professor Emiliana Vegas, whose own improve-the-world credentials come from her work at the World Bank, Inter-American Bank and Brookings Institution, gives her personal answer in Let’s Change the World, a book aimed at “talented individuals who want to improve the lives of the most vulnerable populations in the poorest parts of the world.” The formulation says nothing about being an “influencer,” nothing about TikTok and Snapchat videos, and, tellingly, nothing about insisting on an ideal of work-life balance – although Vegas does have something to say on that topic: “As a rule of thumb, when a specific job brings me a sense of purpose and excitement (and thus satisfaction) for at least 70 percent of the time, I stay. Once that share falls, it is time to move on.” Young readers can take this to heart – but as an ideal, not an automatic occurrence or must-have.

     The field of international development organizations – however defined – is, after all, vast. Vegas’ book opens, even before the Introduction, with four single-spaced pages of acronyms and abbreviations, a veritable alphabet soup of assistance. Readers looking for another point of entry to the topic can simply visit https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_development_aid_agencies to get an idea of how big this field is, how many component parts it has, and how complex it can be to navigate one’s way through it.

     First, though, one must navigate one’s way into it, and that is actually where Vegas’ book is most helpful. After listing what she regards as the five types of international development organizations (IDOs), Vegas explains what would-be world changers will need in order to become a member. Education, education, education is the basis, she says, including, in college, taking “as many social science courses as you are able, for example, economics, public policy analysis, and sociology.” Then add math, statistics, data analysis and econometrics “so that you may qualify for entry-level research assistant positions or consulting jobs within IDOs.” And be sure to become fluent in a second or third language.

     If this sounds like a daunting prospect, IDO-based world changing may not be a good fit: even graduate students, she writes, must take “courses that are challenging” as they focus on “investing in a professional network that you can later tap into during the course of your career.” Indeed, networking is an absolutely crucial requirement: Vegas says she “can’t emphasize this latter point enough.” Furthermore, if you are not of college age and just starting on the road to IDOs but are mid-career and hoping to switch to a field you believe will be more satisfying, you must “be prepared to accept a lower position to begin with.” None of this is easy, or intended to be. A few social-media postings here and there will not get you from here to there.

     How did Vegas herself manage her own career progress? She explains some of the basics in chapters called “Standing Out from the Crowd” and “The Paths Worth Taking,” emphasizing (indeed, italicizing) the necessities of technical skills and the ability to work effectively with diverse people and the capacity to deliver quality products that comply with the allocated budgets and timelines. Yet again: anyone without sufficient drive, determination and intensity need not pursue this approach to world-changing.

     Having set the scene for readers who want to work within IDOs, Vegas moves on to book sections called “How You Thrive” and “How to Make a Real Difference,” using herself as an example and getting significantly more deeply into everyday operational issues involving IDOs. This means the book becomes increasingly acronym-heavy: a single, typical two-page spread includes IDO, IDB, ESW, LMICs, WB, SIEF, CN, and RCT. It also means that many of the recommendations and suggestions would apply to ongoing career work in any business environment: “Moving Up the Corporate Ladder” (one chapter title) is scarcely an IDO-only topic. And the illustrative material Vegas offers may be more than a little overwhelming, as when she creates a full-page table called “How Various Technical and Managerial Positions (Using HD and Education as Examples) Fit within the WB’s Matrix.” Similarly, her commentaries on toxic supervisors and “The Power of a People Person” (another chapter title) are applicable to many, many workplaces.

     Vegas is scarcely naïve about the field of IDOs, saying that she knows there are people in IDOs who really care about their organizations’ missions and the people that the IDOs are supposed to help, even though “these institutions can be riddled with limitations and inefficiencies” and “sometimes their staff are more interested in pursuing individual agendas than the institutional mission.” So her enthusiasm about her chosen career is tempered by a sense of reality. And although Vegas is in her 50s, she clearly believes that Let’s Change the World will reach out effectively to readers 30+ years younger: “I hope this book will encourage those interested in pursuing careers in development to really go for it,” she writes with emphasis. What she does not do, likely because she is too close to her field to have the sort of overview that young readers will bring to it, is to explain in detail exactly how her personal work – and, by implication, theirs – would “make a difference.” Vegas’ contributions to what she considers world-changing are in the form of books such as Incentives to Improve Teaching: Lessons from Latin America and articles such as School choice, stratification, and information on school performance: Lessons from Chile, and When education expenditure matters: An empirical analysis of recent international data. Will fired-up college students see the creation of material such as this as sufficiently world-changing to make them willing to dedicate the time and effort required to break into IDOs and rise through the groups’ ranks? Will those who want things to be improved immediately, if not sooner, find Vegas’ recommendations a satisfactory road map for their personal and professional lives? Perhaps – or perhaps Vegas’ book will serve to show even the most-well-meaning readers that when one talks about changing the world, one is really talking about changing a very small piece of it over a very long time period while working one’s way through a very large number of difficulties and obstacles. Those unwilling to accept that reality, those hoping instantly to Photoshop wide-ranging, lasting improvements while proclaiming themselves “influencers,” will take scarcely any useful lessons, much less world-changing ones, from Let’s Change the World.

(+++) LARGER SCALE AND SMALLER

Carlos Simon: The Block; Tales—A Folklore Symphony; Songs of Separation; Wake Up! Concerto for Orchestra. J’Nai Bridges, mezzo-soprano; National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Gianandrea Noseda. NSO. $20.98 (SACD).

Music for Clarinet, Cello and Piano by Kinan Azmeh, Pierre Jalbert, Todd Cochran, Libby Larsen, David Ludwig, and Lowell Liebermann. Romie de Guise-Langlois, clarinet; Dmitri Atapine, cello; Hyeyeon Park, piano. MSR Classics. $14.95.

Music for Violin and Piano by Gabriella Smith, Paul Wiancko, Cristina Spinei, Timo Andres, Leilehua Lanzilotti, and Christopher Cerrone. Rachel Lee Priday, violin; David Kaplan, piano. Orchid Classics. $16.99.

     Composers have always varied widely in the scope of their musical thinking and in their beliefs about the best instrument or set of instruments through which to convey their musical thoughts. The especially fortunate ones had ready access to larger or smaller ensembles, or highly talented individual performers, as they wished – these were typically the court composers of the Classical era and earlier. Nowadays the closest a composer can come to “court” is to be designated composer-in-residence for a symphony orchestra – and that is what has given Carlos Simon (born 1986) the enviable opportunity to create large-scale symphonic works for the National Symphony Orchestra. Recordings of live performances of four of his works, conducted by Gianandrea Noseda, are now available on the NSO’s in-house label. The first piece on the disc dates to before Simon became composer-in-residence in 2021: he created The Block in 2018. It is one of those works whose genesis the audience needs to know in order to appreciate it fully: Simon was inspired by Romare Bearden’s cut-paper art about the Harlem area of New York City. Those unfamiliar with the art or the milieu it depicts will at least hear some interesting contrasts between the full orchestra and a small number of instruments, notably piano and drum kit. More interesting is Tales—A Folklore Symphony (2021), which effectively melds multiple styles while paying tribute (likely consciously) to Simon’s personal background as the son of a preacher. Certainly spirituals and works with spiritual qualities pervade the music, to especially good effect in the third and longest movement, Go Down Moses (Let My People Go). Here the underlying music is pushed, pulled, expanded and arranged in multiple ways, and the resonance of the Biblical tale of the oppression of the Jews with the more-contemporary concerns of African-Americans is made clear without becoming overbearing. And then the fourth movement, based on the folk song about John Henry the steel-drivin’ man, provides an effective conclusion that raises some intriguing questions in an age of artificial intelligence: John Henry defeats mechanization but dies in the attempt, and the song celebrates his life – but that life is over. Simon’s use of brass and percussion to hammer home (almost literally) the elements of the song is particularly well-thought-through. Tales is the most-effective work on the SACD, whose first-rate sound helps bring out the details of a particularly well-scored piece that Noseda and the orchestra handle with as much attentiveness and respect as they give to the rest of Simon’s music. After Tales, the two remaining pieces on the disc, both from 2023, are somewhat lesser offerings – not disappointments, certainly, but lacking the scope, scale and emotional intensity of Tales. Simon truly wants them to make emotional connections, notably using a mezzo-soprano for Songs of Separation, which is interestingly based on 13^th-century Persian poetry and which gives J’Nai Bridges plenty of opportunities to emote – but which seems to be trying a bit too hard to assert its foundational attempt to connect audiences of today with ancient but still-relevant feelings of loss. And Wake Up! Concerto for Orchestra, although it gives the various sections and some individual instruments plenty of chances to shine, is nowhere near the level of analogous pieces by Bartók and Kodály. Simon’s work is a showpiece, in particular for brass and percussion, but its glitter is largely surface-level and might have worked better in shorter, encore-length form than it does at its 20-minute extent. Taken as a whole, this recording shows Simon to be a skilled orchestrator and a worthy user of the excellent performance forces to which his appointment has given him entry. But it is hard to imagine these works, with the possible exception of Tales, becoming part of other orchestras’ regular offerings.

     Contemporary composers without ongoing access to large instrumental groups – that would be most of them – tend to channel their creativity into chamber-music forms, not only to make performances more likely but also because there are significant advantages in clarity and communicative potential when writing for a small, intimate ensemble. The six world première recordings on a clarinet-focused MSR Classics release address that potential in varying ways. One work, A Scattered Sketchbook (2012) by Kinan Azmeh (born 1976), is for clarinet and cello; the other five also include piano. Azmeh’s set of six short “sketches” meanders pleasantly here and there, with some gentle clarinet-led rocking (No. 2), a few bits of expressive cello pizzicato (Nos. 3 and 4), a touch of argumentative instrumental dialogue (No. 6), and more. Ultraviolet (2013) by Pierre Jalbert (born 1967) emerges from sonic depths into brighter spheres. Soul-Bird (2022) by Todd Cochran (born 1951) focuses more on disconnections among the instruments than on their complementarity. Trio Noir (2022) by Libby Larsen (born 1950) is not especially dark, but its insistent dissonances and widely separated intervals give it an emotionally distanced feeling. Flowers in the Desert (2009/2022) by David Ludwig (born 1974) consists of five short pieces that start by making the clarinet sound like a flute and continue by undermining any sense of all the instruments’ warmth and expressive potential – a reflection, perhaps, of a bleak landscape, and in any case a mostly bleak musical one except in the third piece, Mille regrets de vous abandonner (Des Prez). The final work on the CD, Trio (2015/2022) by Lowell Liebermann (born 1961), is also the longest, nearly twice the length of any of the other pieces here. Its three movements show Liebermann’s typical attentiveness to individual instruments’ timbres and capabilities. Dissonances are pronounced, but they are employed as part of the overall sound world rather than for surface-level effect, and Liebermann does not hesitate to include some rather old-fashioned lyricism in the central Largo before building the concluding Allegro into an effective interplay of instruments. This is the most-successful work on the CD, although all the pieces feature intriguing elements that show their composers’ abilities to work in small-ensemble forms. Romie de Guise-Langlois, Dmitri Atapine and Hyeyeon Park perform quite well together, with sensitivity to the nuances of the music and to the requirements of small-group interplay.

     The seven world premières, by six composers, on a new Orchid Classics release featuring Rachel Lee Priday and David Kaplan, similarly explore sonorities and the intricacies of instrumental relationships – here using only two performers, violinist and pianist, in a combination somewhat more typical for chamber music than that of clarinet, cello and piano. The underlying concept of the Priday/Kaplan disc, however, is anything but typical: titled Fluid Dynamics, it is supposed to represent the composers’ thoughts about the physical phenomena of the flow of liquids and, through those thoughts, to communicate something about the oceanography studies of Georgy Manucharyan. The title also indicates that the aural dynamics of the pieces on the disc are fluid – quite fluid, in fact. If all of that sounds hopelessly abstruse and highly unlikely to generate any feelings of connection for the vast majority of listeners – well, so be it. Yes, the project (which has a visual element that of course cannot be captured on an audio CD) operates in a very rarefied realm, but as always with such endeavors, it is worth considering whether the music as music has something to offer audiences that may have neither time nor inclination to explore the foundational underpinnings of the presentation. Unsurprisingly, the music is very much a mixed bag, and not entirely a fluid one. Entangled on a Rotating Planet by Gabriella Smith (born 1991) has the violin sounding like a sound wave rather than imitating a watery one. Waterworks by Paul Wiancko (born 1983) alternates chordal and single-line elements and produces an overall sound of old-fashioned fiddling. Convection Loops by Cristina Spinei (born 1984) weaves a surprising degree of lyricism above a wavelike undercurrent. Three Suns by Timo Andres (born 1985) proceeds chordally at a deliberate pace, then offers contrasting scalar material. Leilehua Lanzilotti (born 1983) is represented by two pieces, a single-movement five-minute one and a three-movement one that is just a bit longer. The single movement, ko’u inoa (no capital letters – a common title affectation of some modern composers), has a repetitive ostinato quality that pulls the violin into near-feedback-sounding territory. The first movement of to speak in a forgotten language (again no capital letters) further explores the same sonic phenomenon and throws in some intense squeals; the second is a gradual crescendo/decrescendo with percussive overtones; the third overtly offers repetitive, pointed electronic-sounding aural elements that are quite far from any traditional definition of music even if they elucidate physics in some specific way. The final and longest work on this short (48-and-a-half-minute) CD bears the most traditional title, Sonata for Violin and Piano, and is by Christopher Cerrone (born 1984). Listeners who have not read up on fluid dynamics can still get a strong hint of the intellectual underlayment of this project from the titles of Cerrone’s three movements: Fast and focused, with gradually increasing intensity; Still and spacious, but always moving forward; and Dramatic, violent, rhythmic, very precise. In strictly musical terms, however, Cerrone’s movements sound little different from other pieces proffered on this disc. The most-interesting of them is the second, which contrasts individual piano notes with violin harmonics that are apparently intended to be as screechy as possible. Ultimately, listeners can pretty well swap the names of composers and/or pieces on this CD without losing or gaining anything – there is little distinctiveness or distinction here. Visual elements would surely elucidate the project’s overall focus to better effect, although even with them, there would be a sense of sameness regarding the audio portions of the presentation. Priday and Kaplan work well together in this repertoire, but they really do not have very much to work with – like a complex mathematical formula or physics experiment, this disc is directed at an “in” group and contains little that will be attractive to those not already enamored of its underlying premise.