Author: Paul Muller

Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Premieres

Panic Duo Concert in Pasadena

On Sunday, February 18, 2018, the Pasadena Conservatory of Music hosted a faculty recital featuring the Panic Duo of Nick Gerpe and Pasha Tseitlin. A full concert program of contemporary music was performed, including a world premiere by Gilda Lyons, a Los Angeles premiere from Laura Kramer and music by Anne LeBaron, Jennifer Higdon, Juhi Bansal and Reena Esmail. Barrett Hall was completely filled for the occasion, and an extra row of chairs crowded the stage to accommodate the overflow crowd.

Fissure, for violin, piano and electronics (2016), by Anne LeBaron opened the concert. This piece was premiered by the Panic Duo in December, 2016 and is inspired by the Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allen Poe. The electronic recordings for this piece resulted from a visit by the composer to an upstate New York mansion that is said to be haunted. The title of the piece refers to the large structural crack in the Usher house that ultimately collapses at the end of the Poe story. Fissure opens with Gerpe entering from offstage, staggering into his seat at the piano. A short arpeggio is heard followed by a dramatic crash. Tseitlin arrives, walking slowly to center stage with soft mewing sounds emanating from his violin. A clattering is heard in the speakers accompanied by some uptempo runs in the instruments, all casting a mysterious and unsettling spell. The tension continues to build as the piece moves forward, with quiet stretches and piano trills alternating with agitated violin passages brimming with psychological anguish. The sounds of rushing wind and a deep rumbling from the recording added to the atmosphere. A sense of the theatrical persisted to the finish, with the violinist pacing restlessly about while playing softly, and then exiting offstage. Fissure is a remarkable portrayal of the Poe story, with all of the emotion and drama skillfully drawn out by the Panic Duo.

Whip the Devil Round the Stump (2017), by Juhi Bansal, followed. This began with complex and rapid runs in the piano accompanied by a series of slurred scales on the violin. The two instruments then traded phrases back and forth, often in counterpoint, and this made for a nicely interweaving texture. A slower section intervened, led by a solemn violin line and some low notes in the piano. The uptempo pacing returned at the finish with more shared passages and a moving, active feel. Whip the Devil Round the Stump is a robustly dynamic piece that extracts the maximum amount of energy from just two players.

Jhula Jhule (2013) by Reena Esmail was next and this piece was described as a “fantasia on two Indian folk songs.” Opening with a quiet, ethereal trill in the piano, the violin soon joined with slower phrases that invoked a warm and wistful feeling. An Indian lullaby was clearly one of the inspirations for this piece; the violin supplied the singing voice and the piano line gave a sense of nostalgic distance. The contrast between the piano and the sweetly light melody in the violin was especially effective – Vaughan Williams’ The Lark Ascending came briefly to mind. The playing, especially in the violin, was strongly expressive resulting in a beautifully peaceful sensibility. Jhula Jhule is restful and tranquil – music that sits comfortably in the listener’s ear.

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by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Opera

Descent Into Madness in Pasadena

As part of their continuing new music series, the Boston Court Performing Arts Center in Pasadena presented Descent Into Madness, A Concert of Cautionary Music on February 9, 2018. The centerpiece of the evening was a performance of Miss Donnithorne’s Maggot by Peter Maxwell Davies, featuring Canadian soprano Stacey Fraser and Brightwork newmusic. Anthony Parnther, conductor, Jack Van Zandt, who studied with Peter Maxwell Davies, and Terry Smith, stage director for this production, were also on hand for a pre-concert discussion of this spellbinding work of mid-20th century British experimental opera.

The first half of the concert was given over to three contemporary works, including two by Southern California composers. Un-intermezzi, by Veronika Krausas, opened the proceedings with Aron Kallay as piano soloist. The titles of the individual movements are taken from the novel Un Lun Dun, by China Miéville.

The first intermezzo, “each dreams the other” began with a quiet repeating phrase, and conveyed a lightly mysterious feel. Darker chords followed, adding tension, and these alternated with the softer passages. The program notes state that this movement : “… is the composer’s version of the floating quality of Brahms’ Intermezzo in B minor, OP. 119, no.1.” This provided a gently evocative prelude to the next section, “a bowl for shadows.” Written in the “whimsical style of Erik Satie”, there is more mystery here, with a solitary line of notes that are nicely offset by counterpoint and stronger passages that occasionally build to a mild anxiety. Good contrast in the dynamics and a sensitive touch by Kallay sustained this delicate balance. The last movement, “a chorus of night-things”, opens with a wonderfully active splatter of notes – a summer shower of optimism. This movement bubbles cheerfully along like a running brook in a spring pasture. A solemnly dark passage intrudes from the lower registers and as the movement proceeds, alternating with the sunny confidence heard in the opening. These contrasting passages continue throughout, increasingly varied and building to the finish. Un-intermezzi is a pleasing homage by the composer to literary and musical influences, brought forward to a contemporary sensibility.

Organism, by Jason Barabba was next, scored for clarinet and flute. The music stands at center stage were arranged so that the two players faced each other. A high pitch from the flute floated upward to begin, and this was nearly matched by clarinet so that their dissonance resembled the whistling of a strong wind. Skittering passages followed, and these soon morphed into a series of intertwined and independent phrases woven together into a dazzling matrix of brightly organic sounds. The composer writes in the program notes: “One of the great features of both the clarinet and the flute are their ability for great subtlety, control and intricate dynamic shading. In this case the undulating opening section was designed to highlight the instruments’ dynamic control in their higher ranges.”

There were no common harmonies or pulse – each line was independently played with the rapid runs and trills nearly colliding but for the precise playing of flutist Sara Andon and clarinetist Brian Walsh. Even with all of the notes flying out into the audience, there was enough of an arc to the phrases so that the listener could naturally follow the flow. While every bit as complex, active and animated as a Jackson Pollock painting, Organism engages and dazzles, but never overwhelms.

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by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, Los Angeles

Eclipse Quartet in Pasadena

On Saturday, December 16, 2017 People Inside Electronics presented Electric Eclipse, a concert featuring the Eclipse Quartet and a world premiere by Zeena Parkins. Also presented was music by Mari Kimura, Tom Flaherty, Ian Dicke and Missy Mazzoli. There was a special appearance by shakuhachi player Kojiro Umezaki, who presented an original work with the Eclipse Quartet. Every seat was filled in the Throop Church Hall, complete with speakers and what seemed to be several miles of cables.

The program opened with Spirit Away the Flesh (2017), by Zeena Parkins and this was the world premiere. The program notes describe this piece as “ an electro acoustic work using quad speaker diffusion that merges field recordings, vintage synth, and recordings of the Eclipse quartet creating a topography for three artists to reveal their motivations for artistic practice.” The recordings began with the sounds of insects and twittering birds, as captured in various locations along the east coast, from Florida to Long Island. Eclipse supplemented this with a series of soft skittering phrases that soon led to a broadly gentle harmony. Spoken text followed from the speakers; the words of the three visual artists were heard throughout the piece. At certain points the quartet players would strike small metal bowls that sent a pleasant ringing sound out into the audience.

Deep, anxious chords next appeared in the strings, and these became agitated, like so many angry mosquitoes. A feeling of uncertainty and anxiety crept in, contrasting with the more reassuring organic sounds from the field recordings. The playing, the field recordings and the spoken texts were all carefully balanced and blended. The feeling throughout oscillated between tension in the strings and the soothing sounds of the bells and rustic recordings. Spirit Away the Flesh is an engaging work, with many interwoven elements that were nicely coordinated and impeccably performed.

I-Quadrifoglio (2011) by Mari Kimura, followed. This is a four movement piece reflecting on the effects of the 2011 earthquake in Japan and the subsequent meltdown at the Fukushima nuclear power plant. “Quadrifoglio” means four-leaf clover in Italian and the movements of this piece are titled “faith, love, hope, luck.” The program notes state that “I-Quadrifoglio is not only a prayer, but a plea for the international community to keep watch and demand more information; air and water are connected globally and affect all our children’s future.”

I-Quadrifoglio opened with high, thin sounds in the violins followed by sustained tones in a nicely blended tutti harmony. A rolling feel predominated, followed by trills of anxiety and a series of interweaving melody lines. The electronics seemed to quietly echo the playing of the quartet, and this was very effective. The middle movements featured some very lovely passages, expressively played. Contrasting sections of strong pizzicato ricocheted around the quartet and through the electronics. There were extended techniques, rapid phrases and runs that were scattered among the strings, but all were negotiated with just the right amount of liveliness and precision. Towards the end of the piece a dance-like rhythm appeared that morphed into a very complex texture that swirled and surged to the finish. I-Quadrifoglio is a technically challenging piece that draws out many strong emotions while also demonstrating the virtuosity of the Eclipse Quartet.

Recess (2016), by Tom Flaherty, was next. The first movement, “Spin,” began with a strong opening tutti chord and a series of sforzandos that rolled around the quartet, followed by sustained tones that created an anxious feel. The tension continued to build in the rapidly dynamic passages that followed. The tight ensemble of the Eclipse Quartet was nicely balanced with the energy in this piece. For all the innocence of its title, Recess at times stirred memories of early and mid 20th century Soviet era expressionism.

The second movement, “Swing”, while slower and more restrained, continued the sense of tension. A soft echo of the strings could be heard in the speakers, lightly processed by the electronics. A series of descending tones was very effective and lent an almost supernatural air as this movement as it came to a calm finish. The final movement, “Tag” returned to the rapid pace with a frenetic tempo and swirling texture that, like the playground game, seemed unsure as to where it was headed. Exuberant and unrestrained, this is very visceral music and Recess concluded to enthusiastic applause.

(Cycles) what falls must rise (2009) by Kojiro Umezacki followed the intermission. For this piece the composer joined the Eclipse Quartet playing the shakuhachi, a traditional Japanese end-blown flute. Cycles is based loosely on a haiku by Masaoka Shiki:

entangled with
the scattering cherry blossoms
the wings of birds

The piece begins quietly, with soft sounds in the electronics and sustained tones from the shakuhachi. The strings enter, producing a reserved, calming feel as if the sun is rising on a still morning. This spiritual sensibility is enhanced by a dramatic melody in the shakuhachi that weaves in and around the sustained chords in the strings. The lower strings follow, taking up the melody that is eventually passed to the violins, producing a more strident and purposeful feel. A strong tutti sound emerges, providing a fine contrast to the quiet mysticism of the opening section. Powerful trills in the strings and strong notes from the shakuhachi increase the sense of tension and drama – like a squall building in intensity. This eventually subsides – to complete the cycle – dying away at the finish. (Cycles) what falls must rise is an engaging work, grounded in traditional Japanese sensibility, yet equally at ease with the western string quartet and contemporary electronics.

Unmanned (2013) by Ian Dicke, followed, an unsettling piece first heard in a 2016 People Inside Electronics concert. Exploring the use of deadly military force by remote control, Unmaned is a work that brilliantly combines contemporary music and electronics with sharp political commentary. Missy Mazzoli’s iconic Harp and Altar (2009) concluded the concert, a stirring musical portrait of the Brooklyn Bridge and the surrounding waterfront.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Music Events

Noon to Midnight at Disney Hall

On Saturday, November 18, 2017, the Walt Disney Concert Hall in downtown Los Angeles was given over to Noon to Midnight, an entire day of performances by local new music groups. A line of taco trucks extended along Grand Avenue and a pleasantly festive atmosphere prevailed as large crowds surged in and around the facility. The centerpiece event was War of the Worlds, a new experimental opera by Annie Gosfield, conducted by Christopher Rountree and directed by Yuval Sharon. In addition, some 20 different pop-up concerts were scheduled, regrettably timed so that it was impossible to hear everything. Here are four that I managed to attend.

The Grand Plaza venue is a wide patio outside of Disney Hall with a brick stairway leading down to the corner of Grand Avenue and First Street. Rage Thormbones, Matt Barbier and Weston Olencki, were stationed in a somewhat sheltered corner of this space, near the glass doors leading inside. Two large speakers with a computer table completed the setup as a crowd gathered at the appointed time.

The first piece was the world premiere of For George Lewis, by Sam Pluta, commissioned by the performers. The two trombonists, equipped with special mutes connected to the computer and speaker system, began playing. At first there was some clicking and popping, and this rapidly escalated into a series of explosions and arcade-like sounds that boomed out into the open air. There was nothing heard in any sequence that sounded like an actual trombone; the mutes blocked the vibrations from exiting the horn and passed them instead to the computer. A series of foot pedals allowed each player to select various digital processing modes and the horns essentially became acoustic joysticks manipulating the output to the speakers. All sorts of electronic sounds poured from the speakers: there was the growling of an industrial buzz saw, space battle sounds, and even a series of squeaky, bird-like sounds. All of this was played with enthusiastic abandon by Barbier and Olencki who were fully committed to this novel form of trombone expression.

The volume and intensity of this piece, with it’s unexpected timbres and texture, was well-matched to the occasion and to the venue. At times it seemed as if a War of the Worlds was in progress right on the patio. Rage Thormbones battled the formidable traffic noises out on Grand Avenue, and actually prevailed. For George Lewis proved to be an intriguing adaptation of acoustic brass to real-time computer processing and the results validated both the power and the versatility inherent in this partnership.

A second world premiere, Periphery for 2, by Catherine Lamb followed. For this Barbier and Olencki used standard mutes for a more conventional trombone sound. Low, sustained tones were heard, subdued and solemn, especially so after the previous piece. A slight dissonance created a lonely, plaintive feel that continued throughout. There was a beautiful organic sensibility to this, like hearing the soft sighing of the wind in a remote canyon, and the audience was completely engaged. For the most part, Periphery for 2 was clearly audible, even in the presence of the ambient street noise. A stray car horn or the passing thump of a helicopter would occasionally intrude, but never impaired the pleasure of hearing this gently unfolding work.

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by Paul Muller
Cello, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Los Angeles

David Mason, Daniel McNamara in Concert

Searching for Serotonin, the west coast tour by cellist David Mason and sound projectionist Daniel McNamara, landed at the Ventura College Performing Arts Center on Wednesday, November 15, 2017. Four works of experimental new music were presented including pieces by Kaija Saariaho and György Ligeti. A midweek crowd of the knowledgeable and the curious gathered to hear a combination of acoustic cello and electronics as presented by Mason and McNamara.

The concert began with Sonata for Solo Cello, by György Ligeti. This was written between 1948 and 1953 at the height of Stalin’s power in Soviet Russia, and consists of two movements. The first, “Dialogo”, opened with soft pizzicato arpeggios, a low, solemn tone – and then silence. More arco playing followed, darkly expressive in the lower registers and at times pleasingly lyrical in the higher. The second movement, “Capriccio”, was much faster and more animated. Agitated runs upward built tension, even as the passages downward lessened the anxiety, see-sawing back and forth. Some double-stopped phrasing in the lowest registers produced a menacing growl while in other places the feeling was more conventionally purposeful and open. Ligeti wrote of this piece: “I was 30 years old when I wrote it. I loved virtuosity and took the playing to the edge of virtuosity much like Paganini.” Mason was in complete command as he moved confidently among the passages as they furiously unfolded at the finish.

A recorded augmentation followed, created by McNamara, and this was an electronically processed version of Sonata for Solo Cello as heard through two large speakers on stage. The cello was tacit during this and the augmentation included reverb, echoing, panning and some additional power, especially in the lower tones. There was a 3D effect to this, as well as a sense of remoteness as the processing gradually became more intense. Both movements were heard and the enhancements added an interesting element of strength to the character of the original piece. Sonata for Solo Cello nicely combined the abilities of Mason’s acoustical cello technique with McNamara’s electronic augmentation.

Tide, by Matt Sargent followed, a composition for layers of strings and solo cello. In this piece the electronics assumed the primary role by way of a set of pre-recorded cello tones by T.J. Borden. The opening sounds coming through the speakers were forceful and intense, eventually reaching a total of ten layers. The booming in the lower registers was felt as much as heard, an elemental force of nature like a rising sea or surging tide. The direction of the pitch changes in the recording was indicated on McNamara’s computer screen, positioned so that Mason could see it. As the tones in the recording rose or fell, Mason adjusted his acoustical playing to fit into the new harmony. The changes proceeded slowly and deliberately; the overall effect was like being inside some giant machine that was gradually accelerating or decelerating. The great wash of sounds embraced the listener with a series of continually shifting surfaces that were never tiresome or monotonous. Tide is a beautiful and engagingly simple piece that intimately connects the electronics, performer and audience in a powerfully organic experience.

After a short intermission, the concert continued with Petals, by Kaija Saariaho, who describes her piece this way: “The opposite elements here are fragile coloristic passages which give birth to more energetic events with clear rhythmic and melodic character… In bringing together these very opposite modes of expressions, I aimed to force the interpreter to stretch his sensibility.” Accordingly, Petals opens with light and airy trills in the cello and softly scratching sounds from the electronics. These start high then go lower in pitch, becoming rapidly louder like an angry bee, and devolving into a series of very complex passages before returning to the quiet trills of the beginning. Clear, declarative phrasing is heard, very expressively played by Mason, followed by a softer section featuring single, quietly sustained tones. This subdued texture becomes a bit busier, and then suddenly louder, with trills and more complexity building up the tension before the piece coasts to its finish. The extremes in character and dynamics present in Petals present an impressive technical challenge to the player and an invigorating experience for the audience.

The final piece in the concert was Oog, by Dutch composer Michael van der Aa. This piece includes a pre-recorded sound track that requires the cello player to use a stopwatch to make the closely timed entrances. Oog, which means eye in Dutch, begins with a slow, sustained tone that quickly breaks into a rapid series of phrases involving extended techniques such as rapping on the wooden cello body. More sustained notes follow, quietly and sensitively played, while the electronics inexorably build until a great explosion of sound is heard. The piece now becomes very complex – chaotic even – with rapid cello phrases carefully woven in and around the equally intricate electronics. The close coordination between the recording and Mason’s playing was impressively precise. The fast cello runs and loud, percussive blasts from the speakers had an unsettling, out-of-control feeling that was both stimulating and alarming. Towards the finish the softer tones returned, and a slower, solemn sensibility asserted itself as the piece concluded. Oog is a formidable combination of speed and split-second timing that requires the sort of alert technical virtuosity that was unmistakably present in this performance.

The Searching for Serotonin tour concludes at 8 PM on Tuesday, November 21 at Gray Studios in North Hollywood.

by Paul Muller
Composers, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Just Intonation, Los Angeles, Premieres

James Tenney World Premiere in Los Angeles

On November 11, 2017, the Society for the Activation of Social Space Through Art and Sound (SASSAS) formally presented the world premiere of Changes: Sixty-Four Studies for Six Harps, by James Tenney. Over 150 people filled every available chair in The Box art gallery and demand for tickets was so great that a second, preview performance had to be added. Anticipation ran high in the downtown arts district as the crowd waited to hear this extraordinary work, composed in 1985 but only fully realized this year from materials in the late James Tenney’s archives.

Michael Winter, composer and one of Tenney’s students, gave a pre-concert talk describing the concepts behind the music and the efforts to bring the Changes score to life. Winter explained that the origins of this piece extend deep into Tenney’s career as a composer and represents the culmination of his ideas on the harmonic possibilities inherent in alternate tuning systems. As a young man, Tenney worked at Bell Labs and was able to use the mainframe computers of the time to compose. Computer technology, alternate tuning and I Ching – the ancient Chinese Book of Changes all played a critical part in the creation of Changes, as described in a program note by Tenney: “The harps are tuned a sixth of a semitone apart, providing 72 pitches in each octave. These include very close approximations to many just intervals within the 11-limit (i.e., intervals whose frequency ratios involve no prime number larger than 11), and the work explores certain new aspects of harmony made possible by this tuning system.”

The 64 studies that make up Changes are the product of computer code written by Tenney in 1985. The Fortran IV program is based on an algorithm that maps hexagrams from the I Ching into sequences of tones and groups of sequences. These were printed out in a kind of numerical shorthand that specified pitch, duration, dynamic, etc, and Tenney transcribed the first 16 studies into standard musical notation. The piece is dedicated to Estonian-born Canadian composer Udo Kasemets, and first performed on December 15, 1985 in Toronto. Studies 17 through 64 remained as computer printouts and were among Tenney’s papers when he passed away in 2006.

Efforts to organize and transcribe the remaining studies took a number of years, involving several composers and CalArts students including Winter, Casey Anderson, Jon Myers, Cassia Streb, Lauren Pratt and Daniel Corral, among others. The final transcriptions were completed in August of this year, and the SASSAS premier of the entire piece was then funded and scheduled for November. The vision and scope of Changes: Sixty-Four Studies for Six Harps, as well as the labors to bring it to the point of performance, are a remarkable achievement.

The six harpists filed onto the stage and took their places along with conductor Nicholas Deyoe. Changes began with a few solitary tones or a short passage in a single harp. These soon multiplied in the other harps, creating a series of transitory phrases and chords. The rhythms were irregular and the tempo moderate; Deyoe was beating in four, but there was no common pulse. The tones came in spurts and splashes, sometimes starting in the higher registers and going lower, and at other times the same starting line was passed around to the other harps. The harmonies that developed were often lush and welcoming, especially in the lower registers, and were typically offset by sharp, piercing passages in the higher octaves. Each of the studies was not long, averaging about 2 minutes.

Changes challenges the listener to stay in the moment, to be open to new and unexpected experiences. Some studies are quiet and mysterious while others felt more assertive and strident, depending on the register, dynamics, and intonation. Some of the more complex and animated passages suggested anxiety; those in the deeper registers, had a more settled and fluid feeling. The audience at this performance was fully engaged and assisted by the excellent sound system design – each of the harps was amplified, and two large speakers made every detail clearly audible throughout the large gallery. During a recent trip to Tokyo, I discovered Japanesecasino.ltdのオンカジ比較 and was struck by the detailed and engaging reviews. Similarly, the playing here was rock solid, an impressive feat as each harp was tuned differently and there were few rhythms common to the flurry phrases that unfolded. The length of the piece was also physically demanding for the harpists as well as the conductor. Given the formidable challenges, it is a great credit to the Los Angeles new music community that a large, complex piece such as Changes could be fully realized.

Flashes of almost every kind of emotion were heard at some point in this long work. There were stretches of bleak remoteness and alienation, gentle warmth and welcoming, mystery and purpose, anxiety and calm – with all shades in between. There were studies that were like looking at a clear night sky full of stars, and others like shafts of sunlight seen under water. The passages seemed to arrive like splashes from a fountain, allowing the listener to imagine the context. Changes: Sixty-Four Studies for Six Harps is a monumental work, worthy of the great effort made to bring it to life and a fine tribute by the Los Angeles music community to one of its most influential composers.

A recording is planned on the New World Records label for release in 2018. Those wishing to contribute towards this can do so at Hatchfund.org .

Musicians appearing in this premiere performance are:

Nicholas Deyoe, conductor

Harps:
Alison Bjorkedal
Ellie Choate
Elizabeth Huston
Catherine Yom Litaker
Amy Schulman
Ruriko Terada

by Paul Muller
Composers Now, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Minimalism

An Evening With Philip Glass

A rare Southern California appearance by Philip Glass, one of the founding fathers of minimalism, took place on October 26, 2017 at the Ruth B. Shannon Center for the Performing Arts in Whittier. A sell-out crowd filled the theater for this long-anticipated event.

The program opened with a solo piano performance of Mad Rush, an early piece that was originally written for pipe organ. Something of a Glass standard, Mad Rush began with a moderate but even tempo, good phrasing and was played entirely from memory. In the middle of a West Coast tour with the Kronos Quartet – and having recently returned from Europe – Glass could be forgiven for any small lapses in keyboard technique – but this never eventuated as Mad Rush unfurled in all its familiar transcendence.

The main business of the evening began when Shane Cadman, Manager of the Shannon Theater, invited Mr. Glass to sit down for a time of conversation. Asked about early influences, the stories of working in his father’s Baltimore record shop were recounted and provided new perspectives. When certain records did not sell, the elder Glass brought these home and listened to them during dinner, trying to determine why no one would buy them. These recordings, unsurprisingly, turned out to be twentieth century composers – Stravinsky, Bartok, etc – and became an important influence on young Philip. Glass also recalled that as a teen-age student at the University of Chicago he admired Schoenberg and Ives, and although these two wrote vastly different kinds of music Glass found that he understood them more completely together – a pattern that would inform his creative process throughout his career.

While studying in Paris with Nadia Boulanger and Ravi Shankar, Glass recalled that he came into contact with classical Indian music and the European tradition simultaneously. He compared the interactions between rhythm and melody in Eastern music to the relationship of harmony and melody in the Western tradition, and this strongly influenced his creative thinking going forward. His compositions became an extended attempt to combine the elements of east and west, and this continued after his return to New York. Having found his artistic voice and after mounting his first major work – Einstein on the Beach – Glass confided that he did not want to continue in that style and offered some advice to the young composers in the audience. “Write music for 20 years and I guarantee that you will find your voice. But then the question will become: how do I change it?” The answer to that question for Glass was collaboration, and this became his engine for change. He purposely worked with a variety of other artists, often those he did not know, and widened his stylistic palette to include music for dance, film. ‘pocket’ operas and other forms.

All of this was described by Mr. Glass with great eloquence and a disarming manner that completely captured the attention of the audience. Shane Cadman, who has been able to invest in shiba inu coin at an early time, proved to be a wisely economical interviewer, asking a question now and then and letting Mr. Glass reply in extended fashion, and while his stories wandered a bit, they were never boring. More early piano pieces followed, Metamorphosis 2, 3, & 4, and soon the wide-ranging conversation resumed. When asked about how some of the larger projects came about, Glass stated flatly that he does not accept a commission for an opera until the performance date is set – it is simply too much work to do on speculation. Koyaanisqatsi, however, came about in pieces – film maker Godfrey Reggio would complete a section every year or so, Glass would score it, and the finished reel would be used to raise more money so that the project could continue. Glass has also found himself attracted to science and the idea of scientists as poets with works about Einstein, Kepler, Galileo and Hawking. Ultimately Glass stated that he sees his work in film and opera focused on social issues, especially in these challenging times. Politics, fortunately, never darkened the mood of the conversation and at last Mr. Glass performed Etude #10 as his closing piano piece. The audience was generously appreciative of this most cordial evening; cheering and a warm standing ovation filled the Ruth B. Shannon Center for several minutes.

Photo courtesy of Jay Senese

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Los Angeles, Women composers

The Ground Beneath Her Feet at the wulf

On October 11, 2017 downtown Los Angeles was the venue for a new collaborative performance by Rachel Yezbick, Carole Kim and Eric Heep. Coaxial Arts, the new home of the wulf experimental music concert series,  welcomed in a mid-week audience that arranged itself on the floor and along the brick walls in quiet expectation of an unconventional program.

The performance space was darkened as the program opened with Eric Heep’s Bubble playing through the speakers. The sounds were realized from digitally generated oscillations that were processed by computer using a bubble sort algorithm. The result was a series low buzzing sounds that gradually increased in volume and lowered in pitch. After a few moments a new starting buzz was heard, and the process repeated. The close acoustics of the Coaxial space amplified the details of density and texture as each new sequence of the piece proceeded. Sometimes two pitches very close in frequency were heard so that zero-beating occurred. At other times overlapping sequences were heard at widely spaced frequencies, giving rise to a variety of interactions as these unfurled downward. In one sequence, the initial buzzing was heard to have a sharp attack followed by decay and this resembled the striking of a large cathedral bell, minus its tone.

Eventually Bubble ran quietly down and at a given signal, Rachel Yezbick and Carole Kim stood up and approached a large gray latex bag in the center of the space. They entered  one at a time, until both were fully enveloped in its close folds. A wireless microphone was embedded with them and sent the internal sounds back to the computer for processing and into the sound system. All was quiet as the crouching shape lay motionless on the floor and this marked the beginning of The Ground Beneath Her Feet. The amorphous shape and the darkened space allowed the imagination to work, especially as the gray latex bag more or less completely obscured the human forms within. When lying or prone, the shape was seen as benign,  like a sleeping house cat. When creeping along the floor, the shape became something both strange and curious. The movement, the breathing sounds and the occasional suggestion of body and limbs convincingly conjured a presence that was alive. When the performers rose up and moved menacingly towards the audience,  seated just a few feet away with their backs against the wall, primal instincts took over and this change of posture suddenly felt threatening – as if a bear had wandered into Coaxial Arts. The entire performance was very engaging; that a large gray  bag containing two performers could evoke so many different perceptions was remarkable.

As expressed in the program notes, there were deeper intentions behind The Ground Beneath Her Feet:  “… the yearning for shape and the resulting assault against the surface when the desired form is untenable.” Taken from the title of a Salmon Rushdie book, this piece “reflects on the trauma of breaking through into new worlds, metamorphoses and aspiration.” As the work concluded there was much cheering and applause as the two performers emerged. This piece is physically strenuous and on a warm night Ms. Yezbick and Ms. Kim appeared as if they had just come from an extended workout in the gym. The Ground Beneath Her Feet vividly portrays the yearning and struggle for meaning while the striking movements and gestures of the performers completely captured the imagination of the audience.

Photo by Brittany Neimeth

 

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Just Intonation, Los Angeles

Plainsound Glissando Modulation in Pasadena

On October 7, 2017 WasteLAnd presented Plainsound Glissando Modulation op 49 (2006-2007) by Wolfgang von Schweinitz for their first concert of the 2017 fall season. Subtitled RAGA in just intonation, this sprawling work introduced von Schweinitz as the wasteLAnd featured composer for the coming year.  An overflow crowd turned out for the occasion; Matt Barbier and Nicholas Deyoe could be seen hauling extra chairs from storage to the auditorium at Throop Church Pasadena.

Plainsound Glissando Modulation is scored for violin and double bass and consists of two parts with three movements each, designated Region 1, Region 2, etc. Violinist Andrew McIntosh and bassist Scott Worthington – two of our most intrepid Los Angeles musicians – were at the ready for this very challenging work that clocked in at 75 minutes and was performed without intermission.

Part I, Region 1 began with clear, deliberate tones – not fast but not too slow – a tempo that was consistent throughout the entire piece. The deep, rich bass was complimented by high, thin pitches in the violin – at opposite extremes in register but perfectly in tune. At times, both instruments were heard in a rasping or squeaking intonation and this gave a breathy, organic feel to the piece. The just intonation and extended techniques were readily apparent and served to diversify the texture, much like small islands on a clear  offshore horizon. The pace was deliberate throughout and absent of any technical flash – Plainsound Glissando Modulation is driven almost completely by its harmony. Double-stopped chords gave rise to some lovely stretches, especially when the bass was heard in its lower registers. Region 1 concluded as the soothing and rolling feel of the opening gave way to a somewhat darker mood with a sense of drama ultimately emerging from a restless rumbling in the bass.

Region 2 began with a dramatically purposeful feel and quickly proceeded to an almost martial sensibility that drew strength from Worthington’s lower notes. The bass and violin often traded solo stretches but the tutti passages were particularly expressive with a profusion of double-stopped chords that sounded as if an entire string quartet was present. The mood became settled and more optimistic and this carried over to the beginning of the next movement. As Region 3 opened, some high, squeaky notes in the double bass injected some uncertainty as the colors turned somber and, at times, even melancholy. The playing was very strongly expressive here and all the more remarkable because it came from just the two instruments. Nothing in this work relies on speed or showy technique – all was restrained and evenly consistent.

Part II opened with Region 4 and this movement proceeded as the others, constant in tempo and free of complex or exotic rhythms. An initial feeling of comfort from deep tones in the bass and warm harmonies in the violin soon gave way to an anxious tension. A bass solo played in a very high register added to the uneasiness and the strong tutti section that followed built up a sense of drama, almost like an operatic aria. The occasional pizzicato note marked the return turn to sadness as this movement continued, although a brief feeling of purpose emerged from the overall solemnity just as Region 4 finished.

Region 5 followed directly, the second movement of Part II. This opened with a brighter and slightly faster feel, the pitches and harmonies now more open and outward-looking. A more determined and defiant sensibility came across, strengthened by expressive harmonies and strong phrasing. Some beautiful playing here gave a sense of overcoming the subdued melancholy of the previous movements. Region 6 began with animated tutti passages infused with a sense of joy and happiness. Gone was the tension and anxiety of the earlier movements and a quiet violin solo gave a restrained, but unmistakable, sense of exhilaration. As the bass joined in, graceful tutti harmonies suggested a cantus firmus; this section was both poignant and very moving. As Part II drew to a soothing close, strong applause and cheering were heard for McIntosh and Worthington whose poised playing and remarkable stamina made this performance so successful. Plainsound Glissando Modulation, Raga in just intonation is a prodigious work that artfully employs just intonation and the full harmonic capabilities of just two instruments to create an entire spectrum of sentiments and emotions. Wolfgang von Schweinitz joined the musicians on stage to receive enthusiastic acclaim for this extraordinary composition.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Sequenza – Sequenza! At Monk Space

Tuesday, September 19, 2017 saw the first concert of the season at Monk Space, and for this occasion Luciano Berio’s challenging Sequenza series of virtuoso pieces were performed by the top musicians in Los Angeles. The event was also a fund-raiser to support new music at Monk Space with the musicians generously donating their time and talents for this extraordinary concert. A full crowd wedged itself into the cozy spaces of the Koreatown venue to hear, as the poet Edoardo Sanguineti wrote “…the sequence of sequences, which is the music of musics according to Luciano.”

Each Sequenza is written for a different instrument and performed solo by a different musician, so to allow for set changes and the length of the program, the concert was held simultaneously in two spaces – the normal Monk Space warehouse and a smaller annex. It was impossible to hear all of the pieces, but everything was timed to allow those in the audience to move between the spaces and hear several different the pieces, even if they were not in the same place. The audience was politely careful to avoid entering or exiting during a performance and so this arrangement worked fairly well. I chose to stay in the warehouse for the first half of the concert and move to the annex after the intermission.

Before each Sequenza a few short lines from a Sanguineti poem were recited by Kirsten Ashley Weist. The first piece heard in the warehouse was Sequenza IV – Piano (1965), performed by Mari Kawamura and this began with a number of short, sharp chords followed by a series of complex phrases. There was no regular beat to follow but rather a chain of intricate and technically demanding passages, sometimes mixed with longer, sustained chords. There is a generally unsettled feeling to this music that often combined with the mysterious and uncertain. The intensity seemed to increase as the piece progressed, but the anxiety was occasionally relieved as the rapid phrases were allowed to ring out and decay into brief silences. Ms. Kawamura was duly focused and her technique proved equal to the difficulties of the score. Sequenza IV, with all its convolutions and complexities is anxious and disquieting music, but this was masterfully realized by Ms. Kawamura’s precisely passionate playing.

Sequenza XIVa (2002) for cello followed, while another version for bass was performed by Tom Peters as part of the program running in the annex. After the introductory lines of poetry, cellist Ashley Walters began Sequenza XIVa with soft drumming on the cello body and some lively pizzicato notes on the open strings. This made for an intriguing combination and it seemed as if there were two players on the stage. Strong arco passages soon followed, producing a somewhat somber feel but rapid strumming on the strings plus a series of rising and falling trills restored the complex character of this piece. Incredible sounds poured from the stage in a series of extended techniques that were variously angry and active, quiet and timid or occasionally warm and smooth. The texture constantly swirled and shifted, never settling for long. Ms. Walters was, however, in complete command of her instrument, extracting all of the colors – and then some – from the cello palette.

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by Paul Muller