By Aaron Keebaugh

Two Boston-area chamber music ensembles recently ended their seasons. Each embraced the present in its own distinctive way.

The Radius Ensemble in action at Cambridge’s Pickman Hall. Photo: courtesy of the artist

Two chamber music ensembles recently concluded their seasons. One selected pieces from the vast range of romantic solemnity, the other the thorny soundscapes of the mid- twentieth century. Still, both embraced the present in their own distinctive ways.

The Radius Ensemble performed the world premiere of Elena Ruehr’s Broadway Boogie Woogie, at once a depiction of the vibrant colors of Piet Mondrian’s painting as well as an homage to the special relationship that the composer and the ensemble has enjoyed over the past quarter century.

And this tip-of-the-hat to the composer was impressively expansive. Broadway Boogie Woogie was scored for “the largest ensemble Radius has ever staged,” artistic director Jennifer Montbach said in her introductory remarks. That is putting it mildly: the ensemble of flute, oboe clarinet, bassoon, French horn, piano, and strings nearly spilled onto the floor of Cambridge’s Pickman Hall.

But a band that big and blended can really jam, particularly one that can be so preternaturally sensitive. Ruehr’s music cultivated levity and tenderness, with a little actual boogie woogie thrown into the rich mix.

Cast in four short movements, the composition drives forward, leaving a succession of bristly syncopations in its wake. A “Blue Rag,” the title of the third movement, even demands that the strings and winds swing like a dance band. “Toy Parade” concludes the work with a gleeful finesse that is only briefly offset by a brisk fugue.

But the heart of Broadway Boogie Woogie is the “Ghost Song,” which puts its spotlight on oboist Montbach. During her superb performance, the music resonated with a cool serenity. Ruehr’s strategy was elemental: Montbach floated a line over a steady pulse that gradually gathered into a throng of stinging dissonances.

George Crumb’s Vox Balaenae, by contrast, explored the mysteries of the deep. Composed in 1971, this trio for flute, cello, and piano is very much a theatrical spectacle — it calls for the group to imitate a whale song. The musicians donned black masks and performed under a gentle blue light — the dramatics easily suggested the world beneath the waves.

The instruments conveyed the myriad beauties of an unspoiled natural world. Sarah Brady’s flute conjured up whispers, distant moans, and even painfully plaintive cries. Miriam Bolkosky’s cello answered with similar finesse, while Sarah Bob drew metallic sonorities by plucking and rubbing the strings inside the piano. Over 20 minutes, these disparate sounds form a conversation that is at once inviting and otherworldly. When, during its final minutes, Crumb’s score broke into ringing chords and more traditional melodies, the musicians responded with warmth and reverence. This is music at its most delicately primal, and Radius explored its depth.

Steve Reich’s New York Counterpoint offered rhythmic intrigue. Swing and bebop inspired this familiar score. The original version (for twelve clarinets) establishes a sly groove. But Radius’s performance featured clarinetist Eran Egozy soloing alongside a recording of the other parts created by composer and fellow clarinetist Evan Ziporyn.

The effect still mesmerized, with the throbbing pulses of the slow buildup generating an ironically soft ambiance. Egozy’s phrases meshed with the recording, especially nimbly once jazzier licks dominated. The exciting performance fizzed with verve.

Joseph Bologne’s Sonata in B-flat for Violin and Viola provided another stellar pairing — this time via live musicians.

Published after the composer’s death in 1799, the sonata weaves virtuoso flamboyance into strict classical forms. The violinist is very much the star of this show. In that role, Gabriela Díaz tore through her line in the first movement with propulsive energy. Violist Noriko Futagami provided a sturdy background that charged forward with equal ferocity.

While not as inventive as Mozart’s duets, the harmonic palette of this sonata ventures into the wild. Its theme and variations offer some real surprises, and Díaz tossed off each with a panache that faded affectingly in the final bars.

Chameleon Arts Ensemble in action at First Church in Boston. Photo: courtesy of the artist

Another noteworthy season finale was provided by the Chameleon Arts Ensemble, whose program featured music by Guy Ropartz, Hanns Eisler, and Franz Schubert at First Church in Boston.

But David Bruce’s The Consolation of Rain lingers most in my memory. Scored for oboe, cello, percussion, and harp, this score captures the consoling effects of listening to rainfall. A kind of restlessness permeates the first of its five movements. But that gives way to a gentle rush of harmonies as the work unfolds. Pulses grow from light pitter-patters to a full-on wash of sound in the fourth movement. The work ends calmly, conveying the Zen-like serenity that served as Bruce’s inspiration. Musicians Nancy Dimock (oboe), Sarah Rommel (cello), Matt Sharrock (percussion), and Madeline Olson (harp) played with hushed momentum to make a compelling case for this music.

Hanns Eisler’s Fourteen Ways to Describe the Rain depicts the more violent and unpredictable elements of gloomy weather. The dark chromatic shading of this work — it is scored for Pierrot ensemble — brings Arnold Schoenberg to mind. But Eisler’s dense sound world is filled with distinctively vivid imagery. The music bristles, glistens, and splinters into jagged fragments, like a picture crafted out of shards of broken glass. The Chameleons played the composition with the seismic vigor it calls for.

Guy Ropartz’s Prelude, Marine et Chansons proved to be another welcome discovery. Here, too, the performance invited comparisons with more familiar works — in this case, Debussy’s Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp. Ropartz’s score adds violin and cello to that mix and goes on to capture the deep resonances of French pastoralism (the composer played a significant role in the Breton cultural renaissance). The Chameleons rendered “Marine” with tittering glee. The final “Chanson” surged with a sudden fury that simply felt exquisite.

The Chameleons concluded with Schubert’s ”Trout” Quintet, performed with an ideal balance between piano and strings. Pianist Jessica Xylina Osborne’s arpeggios provided just enough tether to the airy delicacies of violinist David Bernat, violist Caitlin Lynch, cellist Rafael Popper-Keizer, and bassist Randall Zigler. Other moments blazed on demand: the Scherzo bounded with bucolic zest, and the famous theme and variations on Schubert’s beloved “Trout” danced with the proper Haydnesque grace. The finale, accented by humorous false endings, sparkled with memorable intensity.

Aaron Keebaugh has been a classical music critic in Boston since 2012. His work has been featured in the Musical Times, Corymbus, Boston Classical Review, Early Music America, and BBC Radio 3. A musicologist, he teaches at North Shore Community College in both Danvers and Lynn.