When pianist Clipper Erickson first opened the 200-page collected works of R. Nathaniel Dett in the mid-1990s, he had no idea that the music inside would alter the course of his career. What began as a curiosity—sparked by a friend’s recommendation—became a lifelong mission to champion a composer who, despite his brilliance, had been largely overlooked by the mainstream classical establishment.
Erickson was no stranger to “outsider” repertoire. His mentor, the great British pianist John Ogdon, instilled in him a fascination with music outside the familiar canon of Beethoven, Brahms, and Chopin. So when gospel choir director Donald Dumpson introduced him to the works of composers of African descent—among them Coleridge-Taylor, Burleigh, John Work, and Dett—he was primed to listen. Dett’s Juba Dance caught his attention immediately. Still, it was the rest of the volume that drew him in: piano works of striking harmonic richness, lyrical beauty, and rhythmic vitality, deeply colored by the African American spiritual tradition.
Dett’s music was, and remains, difficult to categorize. It is not jazz, even though it was written by a Black composer in the early 20th century. It is unabashedly Romantic, created at a time when musical fashion was turning away from such expressiveness. And it resists the bravura displays that pianists often seek for competitions and careers. “Too personal, too poetic,” some might say. Yet in that very refusal to conform, Erickson found Dett’s enduring strength. Audiences, unburdened by labels, have always responded with warmth.
The turning point for Erickson came while pursuing his doctorate at Temple University. Searching for a dissertation topic, he met resistance when proposing Dett. Professors urged him to choose a more “important” figure. But fate intervened: a biography of Dett arrived in the mail, signed by the author. To Erickson, it was a signpost, a clear direction forward. His thesis became the foundation for a broader mission—to record and perform Dett’s complete piano works, giving listeners a full picture of a composer whose imagination spanned every phase of his complex life.
Dett’s music is steeped in the rhythms and spirit of African American folk traditions. While explicit spiritual melodies appear rarely—most notably in Cinnamon Grove and the Eight Bible Vignettes—the influence is everywhere in subtler forms. A cakewalk figure animates in the Bottoms. The left hand of Song of the Shrine pulses hypnotically, like the sway of a gospel choir. In Martha Complained, an insistent ostinato underpins a blues-inflected melody, conveying the title character’s restless dissatisfaction. Even in the absence of words, Dett’s music dances, sings, and tells stories.
For Erickson, the most profound revelations came in studying Dett’s final suite, the Eight Bible Vignettes. At first glance, the work appeared as a series of scriptural reflections. Yet as Erickson immersed himself, layers of hidden meaning emerged. The final movement, Madrigal Divine, turned out to be a setting of Psalm 23—“The Lord is my shepherd”—so precise it could be sung directly to the text. Its climax inspired the title of Erickson’s landmark recording, My Cup Runneth Over.
Guided by mentors like choir director Rollo Dilworth, Erickson uncovered even more connections. The movement centered on Hagar suggested an evocation of Africa’s ancestral mother. Dett’s Rosicrucian interests in numerology pointed to the number eight—symbolizing new beginnings—as no accident. What seemed a set of disparate biblical sketches revealed itself as a profound narrative: a call to reconciliation, to the oneness of humanity. In this, Dett’s final completed work, Erickson recognized the composer’s spiritual and artistic culmination.
Yet despite the depth of Dett’s achievement—both as a composer and as an educator—his music has remained marginalized—conservatory culture prizes categorization: Baroque, Classical, Romantic, Modern. Dett fits none of these neatly. He avoided jazz idioms, resisted virtuosic flash, and wrote from a Romantic sensibility at odds with his time. In this sense, his music became invisible to the very institutions that shaped musical careers.
For Erickson, that invisibility is precisely the reason to keep playing, recording, and teaching Dett’s work. Over the last decade, his complete recording has introduced the music to a new generation of listeners and performers, helping to fill a critical gap in the catalogue. Erickson finds the greatest joy when young musicians encounter Dett for the first time, or when teachers carry the music into their classrooms. Joint concerts with choirs, pairing Dett’s piano suites with his anthems and motets, echo the kinds of performances the composer himself once led.
Looking ahead, Erickson envisions a growing presence for Dett in the repertoire. He imagines not only more performances but also a new critical edition of the piano works, giving future musicians greater access to the music’s depth and nuance. Above all, he hopes that Dett’s vision—of music as a vehicle for harmony, love, and human unity—continues to inspire.
Ten years after the release of My Cup Runneth Over, Erickson remains as committed as ever to Dett’s legacy. For him, this work is not simply about honoring the past. It is about ensuring that the voice of R. Nathaniel Dett, once relegated to the margins, finds its rightful place at the heart of the music we cherish.
You can learn more about pianist Clipper Erickson at: https://clippererickson.com and listen to “My Cup Runneth Over“ on Spotify.
