Month: September 2025

Composers, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, File Under?, Recording review

Ken Ueno sings Sonic Calligraphies in the Tank (Recording review)

Ken Ueno – Sonic Calligraphies (Off-record)

Composer and vocalist Ken Ueno is a creator and performer of notated composition, sound art, and improvisation. A professor at UC Berkeley, Ueno’s singing  involves extended techniques, with an investigation of throat-singing styles from many traditions being just one facet of them. His explorations have also often included using a megaphone. 

The megaphone is not often thought of in musical contexts, but rather as an amplifier of spoken voices, often strident in demeanor and used for warning of danger, imposition of power, and inducing fear. Ueno’s employment of it in previous contexts turned these aims on their heads, serving as commentary on political subterfuge and decolonization. His latest work for voice and megaphone, Sonic Calligraphies, does this too, but in a more abstract fashion. In order to obtain certain frequencies, he modifies vowels to create expressive, but not directly linguistic, inflections. 

Another partner in this endeavor is the recording venue, The Tank, a disused, large metal cistern in Rangely, Colorado. Converted from water container to performance venue, it has a one second delay and is extremely resonant. The inception of its use for performance was the iconic 1989 LP Deep Listening, made by Pauline Oliveros, Stuart Dempster, and Panaiotis. Oliveros later repurposed the recording’s title as a manifesto for her discipline of sound studies. Like this trio, Ueno employs the resonance of the tank, exploring its high ceiling and spacious interior with detailed attention. His sonic palette is a panoply of overtones, microtones, multiphonics, and glissandos. They are deployed in everything from gentle forays to dramatic sonic maelstroms. 

 

Facilitating this endeavor with a megaphone which, above all, is about messaging and overt declamation, makes its abstraction a virtue. The recording is a poetic rejoinder to the amplified discourse so often found today, emanating from the political talking heads on cable news, doom scrolls of social media, and animated disagreements in public and around the dinner table. Sonic Calligraphies may elude precise translation. However, it is eloquent and engaging in equal measure. 

 

-Christian Carey 



CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Microtonalism, Orchestral

Peter Thoegersen – Symphony IV: melodiae perpetuae



Peter Thoegersen has posted a digital realization of his Symphony IV: melodiae perpetuae on Bandcamp. This is an ambitious piece for full orchestra with a running time of just over 52 minutes. Symphony IV is a work in progress; it is intended to be poly microtonal and poly tempic in its ultimate form. The recording posted at this writing is realized in 12TET tuning with various sections of the orchestra heard in different tempi simultaneously. Thoegersen writes: “Each choir of the orchestra is moving separately in Fuxian contrapuntal motions, such as contrary, parallel, similar, and oblique, with respect to tempi changes in the choirs.” Fragments of Gregorian chant from the Liber Usualis form the foundation for the various sections as they ebb and flow throughout this single movement piece. Updates to Symphony IV will be posted on Bandcamp as software improvements and other refinements are implemented.

Peter Thoegersen has devoted much of his career to the exploration of multiple simultaneous tempi that intersect with scales and harmony constructed from micro tonal pitches. He has produced a number of works realized digitally as well as several performed pieces. These have been mostly for smaller and mid-sized ensembles, so the application of Thoegersen’s methodology to full symphonic forces represents a significant escalation of his artistic intentions. Symphony IV, even in its present unfinished form, gives an insight into this process.

In a conventional 19th century symphony, there is typically a sonata structure so that the various sections of the orchestra pass around a common theme and introduce variations. Symphony IV is nothing like this. From the very beginning we are immersed in a great wash of sounds and all the parts of the orchestra seem to be playing at once. This might seem to be a recipe for sonic chaos, but it proves to be more engaging than distracting. Different sections of the orchestra are often heard crossing through each other, and this creates an intriguing kaleidoscope of textures that are continuously unfolding as the piece progresses. At times the great wash of sound might remind of a piece like Becoming Ocean, by John Luther Adams. As the sections intersect and collide, snatches of what could be passages from David Diamond’s Symphony I or Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra might be heard.

The overall feeling in this music changes quickly and can vary from mysterious, to ominous, haunting, grand or tense. The Gregorian chant fragments embedded in this piece provide a solid foundational gravitas throughout. Often a single section, usually the brass or percussion, will rise to the top of the texture and dominate briefly. The strings provide a restrained background against which the other sections can emerge and contrast. A piano line of single notes will occasionally rise up over the woodwinds to trigger the memory of a piano concerto. The dynamics rise and fall, often depending on which section is dominating. The timpani often heralds a tutti crescendo that ends with a bold trumpet call. It is perhaps the employment of full orchestral forces that allow the listener to pick out favorite or familiar-sounding phrases. But these come in the absence of a conventional structure and so are enjoyed without any framing context. This uncertainty increases the engagement of the listener.

How far into the unorthodox will Symphony IV ultimately travel? Only time will tell, but the journey will doubtless be full of surprises and worth following.