Author: Paul Muller

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Los Angeles

Mattie Barbier – threads

The Covid pandemic of the last two years has drastically reduced live performances, and many musicians have stayed busy making studio recordings. Experimental music has benefited from this with the release of threads, a new CD from Sofa Music by trombonist Mattie Barbier. Recorded at the Tank Center for Sonic Arts in Rangely, Colorado in October of 2020, threads is an exploration of the possibilities of musical sounds when heard in an environment with ‘extraordinary internal acoustical resonance’. The Tank Center facility is built around an abandoned steel railroad water tank some seven stories high making it a unique venue for the recording of experimental music. Mattie Barbier, a talented Los Aangeles-based brass player, is focused on experimental intonation, noise, and the physical processes of sound creation. Threads – and the Tank Center – take his innovative efforts to a new level.


Since its opening in 2014, The Tank Center has been a mecca for sonic experimentation by leading new music artists such as William Winant, Todd Barton and Room Full of Teeth. The Tank acoustic boasts a 40-second reverberating sustain, and this opens up new horizons of expression in recorded performance. Mattie Barbier brings a background of virtuosic playing combined with an extensive presence in the Los Angeles new music community. His dynamic performances with wildUp, wasteLAnd music and Gnarwallaby are widely remembered. Barbier’s powerful trombone and euphonium – when combined with extremes of reverberation – what’s not to like? And how does the acoustic affect the performer? As the liner notes state: “threads is Mattie Barbier’s duo with the unique acoustics of The Tank, where, during the session, they learn how to relinquish the control and directness of playing solo.”

So how does a low brass instrument playing in a giant steel tank sound? The first track of the CD is untitled i and opens with rushing sounds and a deep rumbling bass tones that are sustained for several seconds at a time. The sounds seem to come from the lowest possible pitch register of the instrument and the tones fade in and out, often with a fluttery intonation. The sustained tones allow for unique sonic interactions within the highly reverberant acoustic. There is a powerful feel to this – like some great beast growling in its underground lair. In fact, this recording was selected as audio by the Museum of Jurassic Technology for an on-line event filmed in their Bestiary Exhibit – an appropriate realization.

Filter follows, and this is not dark or primal, but rather includes some higher pitched tones along with the fluttery lower sounds. As with the first track, the tones are long and sustained and there is now a clearly metallic color to the sound. The volume increases and fades but generally becomes more intense as the piece continues, as if we are staring into the bright rays of a sunrise. Some nice harmonies develop by overlap with tones in the middle and higher registers. All the sounds in filter are musical, but some are harsher than others, and this makes for good contrast. The high, smooth tones mix with lower ragged sound to form interesting textures. At 11:30, a low roar underneath adds drama and sense of mystery. The tones of filter seem to become thinner as it fades slowly to a finish.

Floating wave, track 3, features a low fluttering sound and varying dynamics. Similar tones are heard that make for occasionally interesting harmonies between the two. The rough musical tones that rise out of this cauldron of low sounds are very engaging, as if seeing beauty in the interior of a volcano. The pitches get higher and less fluttery as the piece proceeds – as if something is trying to form itself out of the chaos. An elementary version of alpine horns sounding across great mountain valleys is heard before the piece fades away at the finish.

Track 4 is untitled iii, and this has more rough flutter but evokes a mystical feeling. We are looking on an alien landscape, perhaps hearing the sounds of large beasts grazing peacefully. There is a sense of power in untitled iii; broad, but without malice. The final track, coda, opens with a sustained brass pitch in middle register, which then breaks into a much lower rumbling harmonic. Soon, clean tones enter, mixing in a nice harmony along with the flutter tone at the bottom. There is an earthy feel to this, perhaps hinting at human beginnings in a dark, wooded wilderness of long ago. The varied harmony and textures add to the inventive character of coda.

This new CD neatly documents the effects of the extreme acoustic environment on the instrument as well as demonstrating the ability of the performer to adapt to it. New possibilities are heard in the sound and an extra dimension of virtuosity is demonstrated by Mattie Barbier in the playing. Threads both illuminates and challenges our expectations at the edge of acoustic extremes.

Threads is directly available from Sofa Music as well as digital download from Bandcamp.

Personnel:
Mattie Barbier, trombone and euphonium
Weston Olencki, mixing and mastering

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Just Intonation, Microtonalism

Ben Johnston – Amazing Grace

Microfest Records has released Amazing Grace, a CD collection of three pieces by American composer Ben Johnston (1926-2019). The album features the Lyris Quartet and includes the title track, Amazing Grace (1973), Quartet #9 (1987) and Octet (1999). Kyle Gann, once a student of Ben Johnston, rightly states in his liner notes that: “Not all musicians realize it, but Ben Johnston, was a major figure in the Midwestern new music world in the 1970s and ‘80s, comparable to John Cage on the East Coast or Lou Harrison on the West. He looms even larger in the world of microtonal music, for his string quartets, sonatas for retuned keyboard, and other works are among the most compelling works ever written in alternate tunings.” The Lyris Quartet is one of the leading string quartets in Los Angeles and has performed a wide repertoire ranging from the classical to innovative contemporary music. Supporting musicians heard on Octet are also widely known in the Los Angeles new music scene.

Ben Johnston was one of the leading late 20th century exponents of alternate tuning, the use of pitches outside of the standard 12 tone equal temperament heard in almost all of our popular music. Johnston employs alternate tuning not for novelty, but rather to achieve better harmonic relationships within a piece and to avoid the compromises built into the standard 12 tone system. All of this has the effect of enriching the sound and increasing the welcoming quality of the music to the listener. A special notation scheme for the new pitches was devised by Johnston and the Lyris Quartet has adapted to this with great skill.

Amazing Grace, the first track of the album, is Johnston’s best known work as it is based on the popular hymn tune. Full disclosure: I can’t stand hearing Amazing Grace. Second only to our National Anthem, Amazing Grace is probably the most over-exposed and overwrought music in popular culture. For me it is like fingernails on a chalkboard. That said, Johnston’s treatment is a most welcome relief. The familiar hymn tune is heard at the opening, but propelled with an expressive and intriguing harmonization along with an active counterpoint in the lower registers. There is nothing alien or melodramatic about it; rather, there is a rural, Appalachian sound as befits humble folk music. The movement in the rhythm gives a feeling of motion and direction without obscuring the rustic origins of the original. The parts weave in and around each other with an intimate intricacy, all crisply played by the Lyris Quartet.

As Amazing Grace proceeds, a series of variations are heard, each with new pitches added to expand the harmonies. There is a slow, solemn stretch with a minor mode feel that soon speeds up and packs in a lot of notes from the four string players. A more melancholy section follows that features a beautiful violin solo. New complex and abstract harmonies are heard as the tempo increases and more pitches are added. The independent lines in each part remain busy as the high, thin hymn tune is heard floating above. The music then turns very abstract and is barely recognizable, filled lots of fast notes and rapid phrasing. The precision of the Lyris Quartet here is impressive, with a lovely sound and good balance. Ben Johnston’s Amazing Grace ultimately returns to the original hymn tune with a solid harmonization and pleasing counterpoint in a beautiful ending. The integrity of this old war horse has been fully reclaimed through Ben Johnston’s masterful realization.

Quartet #9, the second work on the album, has four contrasting movements, and these are typical of more traditional string quartet construction. This is the longest work in the album at a little over 20 minutes and emerges out of Johnston’s adroit combination of microtonality and conventional form. “I. Strong, calm, slow” is the first movement and opens with a series of sustained intermixing tones to create a radiant sound. The dynamics rise and fall making for a lovely introduction. The opening is followed by a quicker, more rhythmic section and a running melody in the middle register with counterpoint below. This leads into a series of strong, syncopated tutti chords filled with strange, yet engaging close harmonies. More variations follow with pizzicato rhythms and some nice fiddling is heard in all the parts. The final section of this movement ends a cloud of sound in brilliant colors that invoke a reflective, transcendental feeling.

The second movement, “II. Fast, elated”, requires only three and a half minutes but opens with a strong beat, rapid phrasing and independent lines. There is an active, willful feel to this and it makes for a fine contrast with the relative tranquility of the first movement. Elegant harmonies flow rapidly out to the listener in a constant stream. As this continues, an engaging texture evolves from the intricate relationship between the melody in the the lower middle register and the relentlessly pulsating sounds of the higher strings. The Lyris Quartet performs with admirable proficiency despite the quick tempo, unconventional meter and multiple key changes.

“III. Slow, expressive” is the title of the third movement and it is just that, opening with a gentle melody in lush harmony. A variation follows that is slightly faster and a melody that dominates in the violin with the accompanying counterpoint below. This sounds almost conventionally classical, but as Kyle Gann explains in the liner notes: “The normality is deceptive, however, the listener may not notice that the tonality smoothly modulates in Johnston’s notation, to the key of F- (21 cents flat, a cent being 1/100th of a half step), and later F– (43 cents flat) before returning to end in the original key.” All of this was seamlessly negotiated by the Lyris Quartet.

The final movement of Quartet #9 is “IV. Vigorous and defiant” and this begins with a strong opening in the lower strings. There are soon moving lines in every part, full of drama and power, yet solidly coherent overall. This is certainly vigorous – as advertised – and the fugal treatment in the first half adds additional interest. As the movement proceeds, the parts become more independent in bursts between the tutti phrases. Towards the finish, syncopation and increasing dynamics build to a fitting conclusion. For all of Johnston’s use of alternate tuning and technical innovation, Quartet #9 never loses touch with the listener and always pleasantly engages the ear.

Octet concludes the CD album and this was apparently Johnston’s last piece, written in 1999. This is the premiere recording of his final work. It is a series of seven variations on Ashokan Farewell by Jay Ungar, the signature tune of the Ken Burns documentary “The Civil War”. The Lyris Quartet is joined for this piece by Sara Andon on flute, James Sullivan, clarinet, Jon Stehney, bassoon and Scott Worthington on bass. The flute opens with the familiar, haunting melody in a quietly slow tempo, played with great expressiveness by Ms. Andon and accompanied by a soft strumming in the strings. The other woodwinds soon join in and the clarinet takes the melody. The flute plays a descant above with the bassoon in counterpoint below. Each of the lines move in and around each other, combining in an intriguing complexity. This ultimately resolves into the tune heard in a full and welcome harmony by the strings.
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The variations of Octet feature the various players in turn. A bassoon solo variation is very evocative as the feeling turns a bit darker than in the opening. This mood is picked up by the strings, and woodwinds. The lines diverge slightly and then intertwine in excellent counterpoint, especially in the bass. Another variation features the tutti ensemble in a just intonation harmony, with the flute leading the melody on top. Given the unusual harmony, there is a very different expressive feel, yet all is still recognizable. The ending arrives in a solid tutti chord to complete the piece. With Octet, as with Amazing Grace, Johnston takes a well-known and over-worked tune, breathing new life into it with masterfully crafted harmony, counterpoint and the judicious use of alternate tuning.

Ben Johnston’s infusion of alternate tuning into the rhythms, counterpoint and structure of his piece is always in service to the overall harmonic expression – it is never just flashy technique. With his innovative use of unconventional pitches and harmony, the works of Ben Johnston will stand as an important benchmark in the progress of new music.

Amazing Grace is available in CD form from Amazon Music and as a digital download from Presto Music.

The Lyris Quartet is:
Alyssa Park, violin
Shalini Vijayan, violin
Luke Maurer, viola
Timothy Loo, cello

Supporting musicians heard on Octet are:
Sara Andon, flute
James Sullivan, clarinet
John Stehney, bassoon
Scott Worthington, bass

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Piano

Philip Golub – Filters

On October 28, 2022, Greyfade released Filters, a debut album of solo piano music by Phillip Golub. Based in New York, Golub has been performing for decades in both classical and improvisational settings. In Filters he explores the intersection of musical repetition and improvisation. The album consists of four piano ‘loops’, each about 8 minutes long. Each loop is a series of repeating phrases that maximize expression by the performer while severely limiting harmonic and rhythmic changes. Careful listening allows discernment of the unique contributions of the performer without distraction. As Golub writes: “When we know the repetition is not mechanical, there’s a certain feeling of needing to stay very focused with the performer, to be there with them.”

How does this sound? The piano phrases are simple, consisting of a few notes and chords played at a moderately slow tempo. The phrasing seems halting, even syncopated at times, and are not constrained to a strict beat. The pitch set is limited with only a few changes as the sequences proceed. There is a generally reflective feeling in these loops, marked by an absence of technical flash or drama; a sort of unsettled rumination. The phrases are similar upon repetition, but never identical – always with the same interior feel, but never tedious. At first this seems to be a variety of classic minimalism, but the variations in the cells are more subtle. Steve Reich wrote that his minimalist phrasing was varied by adding or subtracting a note or two in the cells after a certain number of repetitions, allowing the overall pattern to dominate while introducing variations gradually.

Golub takes this one step further in that the variations are introduced by the performer in the playing and not by the composer in the scoring. There are small changes to the timing of the rhythms, a change of emphasis on the individual notes and very slight differences in tempo. All of this results in subtle alterations of the musical surface and micro-acoustic detail – in other words, the variations are all driven in the moment by the pianists ‘touch’. The loops presented in Filters are just eight minutes long, but they are meant to be played as long as desired. Each 8 minute loop in the album is an edited subset of a 45 minute recording and some of Golub’s live performances have extended for several hours.

More specifically, Golub writes: “Each loop on Filters contains two ‘streams’ of music. The outer stream consists of a single high note and a single low note on the piano, always struck together. The inner stream is a succession of simple major or minor triads — with an occasional suspended fourth or added seventh — that continually re-contextualize the color of the pitches of the outer stream. Something mysterious and magical happens here that is unique to the resonance, decay, and overtones on pianos. I think that this blending of the louder outer stream with the quieter and denser inner music is at the core of the effect.”

Each of the loops, while similar in construction, have their own distinctive emotional character. Loop 1 is typical with a quietly moderate tempo and repeating phrases. These are very similar, but are heard to be slightly different in each sounding. The small variations in the phrases are not obvious, but invite close attention so that the repeating sequences engage the listener and are never boring. There is a warmly introspective feeling that is also welcoming to the ear. Loop 3 is similar, having the same reflective feeling with perhaps a bit of optimism. Loop 4 has a more ambiguous feel; its character is full of uncertainty and questioning. The most contrasting track, Loop 5, is pitched in a somewhat higher register and includes enough dissonance to produce a sense of disquiet in the listener. A bit elliptical and mildly frustrating at times, Loop 5 a departure by being more anxious than introspective.

Filters is a cutting edge album that illustrates how the performer can exert the critical creative input from within the confines of a strictly minimalist framework. The subtle variations in the repeated cells of these loops arise in the moment from the inventive touch of the pianist and are not the result of formal structures. With Filters, Phillip Golub has restored creative primacy to the individual musician, even within the heart of a highly process-oriented music.

Filters is available directly from Greyfade.

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

Pamela Madsen – Why Women Went West

On Saturday, September 17, 2022, the Meng Concert Hall at Cal State Fullerton was the venue for the world premiere of Why Women Went West, a new chamber opera by composer Pamela Madsen. The opera was presented in concert format, performing the musical elements and including the supplementary videos and electronics. Brightwork newmusic provided the main instrumental accompaniment from the stage with supporting musicians stationed all along the perimeter of the hall. Stacey Fraser, the acclaimed soprano, was the vocal soloist.

Why Women Went West is the story of Mary Hunter Austin, who left her Midwestern hometown in the late 19th century for a pioneer life in California and New Mexico. This is not a bawdy Calamity Jane-type send up of the wild west, but rather a deeply personal journey of self-discovery and hard-won independence. The story is filled with all the challenges and trauma experienced by self-reliant women of the time. Through this process, Mary Austin became a feminist, conservationist, writer and advocate for Native American and Spanish-American rights. The program notes state that the opera “…chronicles Mary Austin’s escape from persecution to transformation of white women’s privilege and passion for preservation of nature, history and indigenous culture.”

Why Women Went West is a two-act opera, with seven scenes in each act for a total running time of almost 90 minutes. Act I is titled “Leaving Home-Earth Horizon” and the first scene is “Echo: Empathy Superimposition.” This introduces the setting of the opera with a multimedia presentation consisting of video, sound track and electronics. The recorded accompaniment includes soprano Stacey Fraser, Aron Kallay on piano and the CSUF New Music Ensemble. The black and white video by Quintan Ana Wikswo shows scenes of mountains, forests and streams; a western landscape that is at once familiar, but at the same time fiercely primal, with a definite undercurrent of menace. Scenes of rough outdoor camping vividly depict the difficulties of traveling in such harsh terrain. The music here is ghostly and surreal, perfectly matching the images projected on the screen. Mary Hunter Austin’s journey through the west was clearly no vacation.

Subsequent scenes in Act I built on this sense of danger and the ominous. The musicians, having taken their places on stage at the close of the introductory video, begin with loud drumming and dark piano lines. The soprano vocal starts off in a low register but the overall feeling becomes a bit brighter with the entry of a reassuring violin passage that combines nicely with Ms. Fraser’s clear articulation and strongly expressive singing. More dark scenes follow, sometimes with video and other times without – often with the soprano voice but at other times with just the instrumental ensemble. “The Birds Here”, scene IV, features a video of hawks hunting above a mountain stream, “Owl’s Breath” was next and featured some really frightening scenes of young white owls. The instrumental ensemble, dominated by the bass clarinet of Brian Walsh, created a skittering cacophony of sounds that added to the unnerving imagery. Clearly, traveling through the 19th century American western wilderness was a formidable undertaking both physically and spiritually, forming the crucible for Mary Austin’s re-invented identity.

Scene VI, “The Necessary,” opens with video of a tree-filled landscape featuring roots and leaves in a series of darkly Gothic images. There is spoken text and the Brightwork ensemble enters, with soft vocals from Ms. Fraser underneath. The video ceases; it is as if the great weight of a difficult westward journey has finally been lifted. The acoustic ensemble now dominates, adding a welcome measure of optimism. The sweetly sung vocal line weaves in and around with beautiful harmony and the overall feeling becomes resolutely hopeful. High arcing soprano lines, confidently sung, add to a sense of deliverance and attainment – the long westward odyssey has been successfully completed. The final scene is stronger still, with stirring music that brings Act I to it’s reassuring conclusion.

The buoyant finish of the final two scenes of Act I, after what had been a long series of darker settings, makes for a contrast that is all the more striking for the listener. Composer Madsen’s expressive sense of harmony and control of texture is brilliantly fluid, with each scene carefully crafted so that the shadows in the music are not tedious or oppressive. The affirming relief felt in the music of the last two scenes of Act 1 proves most effective and is all the more gratifying as a result.

Act II has the title “The Land of Little Rain – California to the Land of Journey’s Ending-New Mexico”. The music of the opening scenes immediately establishes an exotic feel with a maraca and spoken text that describes an arid and inhospitable land. The feelings from these opening scenes in Act II, however, are more settled and secure, as if the trials of surviving in the wilderness are past and Mary Austin Hunter has now arrived and is successfully embedded into new cultural surroundings.

“Prayer for My Daughter” Scene III is especially powerful with Ms. Fraser’s expressive soprano voice paired with a lovely violin accompaniment. There is the pathos of powerful loss in this, but at the same time strength in the soprano line that rises ever-upwards, bringing out Ms. Fraser’s masterful command of her voice through all registers. This piece is perhaps the most moving of the entire opera and was beautifully effective. “57 Buzzards”, part of Scene IV, features sharp twittering from the woodwinds, percussion and the musicians surrounding the audience. There is a confused feeling to this and the instruments seem to be in opposition to the spoken text, with the bird sounds representing chaos.

The climax of the opera occurs in Scene V, “The Consecrating Mother / Mary, Mary by Herself.” A softly pensive piano and cello accompany Stacey Fraser singing the words of Mary Austin Hunter. The feeling is now one of accomplishment and hopefulness, it is as if Mary has finally arrived at the conclusion of her spiritual journey, having worked out her sense of independence and identity. The singing is beautiful, confident and dramatic with accompaniment to match. “Going West”, the final scene, is a stately summing up of the protagonist’s resolve to discover herself through the physical challenges of the wilderness and by assimilation into a new cultural context.

Why Women Went West, as given in this concert format, builds a solid musical foundation for the future staged production. The scoring, playing and singing are all on a very high order as are the video, electronics and sound engineering. Why Women Went West was funded with support from the National Endowment of the Arts, Opera America and the Wurlitzer Foundation. The libretto and text were by Pamela Madsen (after Mary Austin Hunter) and Quintan Ana Wikswo. Additional texts by T.S. Eliot, Terri Niccum and W.B. Yeats. Jen Kutler realized the electronics.

Pamela Madsen will be the featured guest composer in residence at Operation Opera, Cal State University Sacramento next year. A fully staged premiere of Why Women Went West is in the planning stage for their Opera Festival, to be held in early June 2023.

A video of the concert version is now available here.

Brightwork newmusic is:
Sarah Wass, flute
Brian Walsh, clarinets
Shalini Vijayan, violin
Ashley Walters, cello
Nick Terry, percussion
Aron Kallay, piano

The CSUF New Music Ensemble
Eric Dries and Pamela Madsen, directors

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, Los Angeles

Jack Curtis Dubowsky – Bolsa Chica Calm

Jack Curtis Dubowsky has been a familiar presence in Los Angeles contemporary music for many years. He may be best known for his original scores for vintage silent films, as well as for performing them live while projecting the movies in various outdoor venues around town. Dubowsky has also scored feature films, orchestral and chamber works, as well as choral music including the acclaimed Harvey Milk: A Cantata. He is a member of the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences and the author of three books.

Bolsa Chica Calm is Dubowsky’s latest electro-acoustic album, and he writes that this music “…references ambient, environmental, and experimental music, from vaporwave to Wendy Carlos’ Sonic Seasonings.” The album comprises two 30-minute pieces – Bolsa Chica Surf and Bosa Chica Rain – both inspired by the composer’s avid passion for surfing and the Orange County coast.

Bolsa Chica Surf opens the album and appropriately begins with the calming regularity of waves lapping on the beach. Synthesized instruments soon enter in their turn, with gentle harmonies and simple melodies. The new phrases are independent and repeat so that each entrance adds a new layer of sound to the growing texture. Some high-pitched electronics whirl in the air, and might be sea birds calling across a beach. The soft, pulsing undercurrent of the surf forms a foundation on which the instruments are heard, and this produces a pleasing California sensibility. The repeating phrases of the music complement the patterns in the surf – seemingly the same but each having individual differences. This synchronization of the musical with the natural engages the listener in the same way as standing on a beach watching the waves roll in – all similar in form but separately distinctive.

As the piece continues, a harp is heard repeating a simple ascending phrase, accompanied by lower register electronics and the surf sounds. Three-note bell tones are soon heard dominating at the top of the texture. The tempo has increased slightly and there is a more purposeful feeling as the acoustic instrument sounds enter, each with its own repeating phrase. This pattern produces a feeling of quiet meditation on the beach, even as the piece is one long crescendo, building as instruments join in with new sounds.

At about the halfway mark everything fades to a moment of silence, then a new piano phrase is heard with the harp. There is a steady repeating phrase in each voice with only elementary harmony in the simple piano chords. A cello begins with rich deep tones in slow, stately passages. A flute enters on top, arcing above and there is a more conventional feel to this section with familiar instrumentation and fewer electronics. At 24:33 a distinctive electronic voice enters with sustained tones, changing the mood a bit. Towards the finish the percussion enters, and the feeling becomes one of expectation. A broad tutti chord is a final flourish, and then only the surf sounds continue for a few moments more.

Bolsa Chica Surf is a minimal, but pleasant rending of a quiet day on a California beach. The patterns of the waves and the music imitate one another and merge in the ear to form a continuum of music and nature. This is not dramatic or technically flashy, but is rather a peaceful echo of nature that leaves room in the mind of the listener for quiet meditation.

Bolsa Chica Rain is similarly structured, but evokes an entirely different range of emotions. The sound of a steady rain softly drumming on a metal roof is accompanied by some marvelously liquid percussive sounds. Violins and a cello join in with a mournful melody that perfectly captures the disappointment one feels at having to change outdoor plans because of the weather. At about 3:00, what sounds like a dulcimer enters with repeating phrases that float above sustained tones from synthesized horns. A wood block adds a strong beat as the rain has now receded into the background. Repeating bell-like phrases are heard at the top of the texture and a series of descending notes by the keyboard add to the layers of sound. By 7:00 these sounds have faded and after a momentary pause, the keyboard issues a run of solitary chords that create a slightly more somber mood – like when you feel trapped indoors by the rain. Electronic tones now offer a slightly brighter feel and new layers appear in simple, but uplifting passages. The strings enter again, now providing real optimism as if you have found something interesting to do indoors. As Bolsa Chica Rain continues on, it imparts that sense of liberation you might feel upon realizing that being stuck inside all day because of the rain isn’t so terrible after all.

The architecture of both pieces in Bolsa Chica Calm is similar; they are built up with layers of changing and independent phrases as various instrumental groups enter and fade out. This makes for accessible and engaging music without being boring or repetitive. The patterns in the music mirror the patterns of nature, and this imparts a welcoming sense of serenity. Bolsa Chica Calm is just that, and much needed in our often frenetic lives.

Bolsa Chica Calm is available for download here.

by Paul Muller
Choral Music, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Orchestral

Pamela Madsen – Oratorio for the Earth

The world premiere of Oratorio for the Earth by Pamela Madsen was heard in the Meng Concert Hall at Cal State University, Fullerton on May 14, 2022. If you couldn’t make it to the performance, a video of a quite satisfactory quality is now available online. This seven-movement oratorio is scored for a full orchestra, a large chorus and six vocal soloists who are the Hex Ensemble. The work offers a dramatic commentary on the uncertain state of nature and the earth in a time of portentous climate change. While the scope and scale of Oratorio for the Earth is daunting, composer Madsen’s score has risen to the challenge and the musicians have delivered a powerful and moving performance.

The structure of the piece is text-book oratorio, with four set-piece chorus movements interspersed with vocal solos and smaller settings by the Hex Ensemble. There are also spoken texts that function as recitative. The larger choral movements begin in winter and circle around to summer, following the seasons. The wide-ranging texts include sacred Latin as well as the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke, Robert Frost, Sitting Bull, Walt Whitman, Sara Teasdale, Mary Hunter Austin and William Butler Yeats. According to the program notes: “Oratorio for the Earth is part of a tryptic of concert-length works focusing on Earth and the environment…”

The news about nature, the earth and climate has been discouraging for at least a decade, and “Lost Horse Mine Lament”, the opening movement of Oratorio for the Earth, clearly reflects this. Church-like chimes are heard as the chorus sings softly in Latin “Truth, the light, the truth and the life – let there be light.” This continues in a warm, full harmony with the higher voices ultimately dominating. The singing turns pensive and a syncopated accompaniment in the percussion adds to the interesting harmonies in the chorus. The chorus is always very much in the foreground while the orchestral accompaniment is appropriately restrained. Molly Pease sings a beautiful mezzo-soprano solo based on a sorrowful Rilke text at the quiet finish. Throughout this movement, and through the entire oratorio, the large orchestra never overpowers the singing. This careful balance is primarily due to the skillful conducting of Kimo Furumoto, aided by the fine acoustic of the concert hall.

The succeeding movements generally follow the somber tone of the opening. “O, Lacrimosa: Ah, But the Winter”, the second movement, has an almost melancholy feeling with solemn piano chords and vocal lines that separate into layers, weaving in and out. The somber Rilke text portrays winter as death before the coming spring. “Center of all Centers”, movement III, is more unsettled, with dissonance in the orchestra and a soaring vocal line arcing above with text by Robert Frost. As with other movements, the orchestra is subdued, with only the occasional forte phrase. Towards the middle of this movement, there is a sudden tempo change as the rhythms become more active. A soloist sings from text by Rilke “Suddenly, from all the green around you, something – you don’t know what – has disappeared;” The chorus joins in full harmony and the feeling is one of an awakening as the text speaks of plants about to spring forth. The orchestra crescendos along with the chorus as this movement reaches its climax.

“O Lacrimosa: O, tear-filled figure”, movement IV, follows and this is a fine contrast to the previous chorus. The opening consists of short vocal phrases by the women soloists with only a few piano notes in accompaniment – the orchestra is tacet. A gentle soprano solo enters with the text “O tear-filled figure who, like a sky held back, grows heavy above the landscape of her sorrow.” More female singing is heard, layered in contrasting registers with a beautiful high soprano line. Movement V opens with a cautionary text by Sitting Bull: “Behold my friends, Behold my friends. They claim our mother Earth for their own.” The ominously deep chords in the piano nicely compliment the bass-baritone soloist and higher voices join in to create an austere harmony. The text soon turns to a Latin Adoramus te and this presents an intriguing fusion of traditional Christian liturgy and Native American spirituality: Christ’s sacrifice and redemption in the context of nature’s springtime renewal. The singing here by the Hex Ensemble is masterfully controlled and complimented by the suitably spare orchestral accompaniment.

The extraordinarily deep bass of James Hayden opens Movement VI “Now the Hour Bows Down” with Rilke’s dramatic text sung in German. This movement was commissioned by Nicholas Isherwood, another bass with an extraordinary vocal range. The orchestra gradually joins in adding anxiety and the feeling now becomes one of almost total despair. At this moment of deep anguish, the female voices enter in hopeful harmony and the text shifts to Psalm 69. Soon, male and female voices join together to sing “Save me O Lord, for the waters have come into my soul.” The deep bass is now singing purposefully in English as the volume builds and confidence increases. This is a welcome ray of optimism shining out at the end of what is probably the darkest movement in the entire oratorio.

The table is now set for the final redemptive movement, “Earth Horizon”, beginning with spoken text from Walt Whitman’s “A California Song! Song of the Redwood Trees.” This describes the fall of a dying redwood in the forest, accompanied by the orchestra and chorus. The feeling is at once sad and triumphant as the choral singing gradually increases in strength and optimism. The ensemble is both stirring and beautiful, without overwhelming the mood. As the choral text turns to “There Will Be Rest”, by Sara Teasdale, a sense of serenity runs through the layers and waves of music that flow outward. A series of orchestral trills and purposeful phrases are heard as the singing shifts to Rilke’s “All Is Love”. The chorus escalates the dynamic dramatically, then subsides as the text of “Earth Horizon” by Mary Hunter Austin is spoken. This is the philosophical core of the entire piece, articulating the disappointment in our treatment of the environment but leaving room for optimism; nature will recover and humans can re-establish a mutually beneficial relationship with the earth. This is followed by a haunting alto solo, soon joined by the full orchestra and chorus singing a soothing text by W.B. Yeats. With a gentle crescendo, the final movement – and Oratorio for the Earth – is completed.

With great power comes great responsibility. Perhaps the most impressive thing about Oratorio for the Earth is the discipline and restraint in both the writing and performing. The vast musical forces at the disposal of composer Madsen could well have spun out of control given the solemn subject of this work. The use of the orchestra, chorus and soloists is precisely balanced and provides a pleasingly varied sequence of movements. The many texts are used to good effect and the orchestral accompaniment always makes space for the chorus and soloists. The overall emotional arc of the oratorio is masterfully crafted and makes the final movement that much more memorable. Large-scale contemporary music is seldom heard these days but Oratorio for the Earth shows that this form can still deliver a compelling message.

The full video of Oratorio for the Earth is available here and the program notes are here. The movement titles and sung text are helpfully displayed on the screen, and this is especially useful for some of the quiet choral pieces – the chorus is seated well to the back of the stage and the softer words are sometimes difficult to hear. The program notes contain the complete set of the texts and these can be easily followed to mark when changes occur within the movements. There is also a complete list of the performers and the technical crew. The sound, video engineering, lighting and stage management are all first rate and free of any distractions. The video of Oratorio for the Earth is a fine production of a large, complex work and provides a clear conduit for the artistry on stage.

The HEX Ensemble is:

Joslyn Sarshad, soprano
Molly Pease, soprano
Lindsay Patterson Abdou, alto
Fahad Siadat, tenor, director
Scott Graff, baritone
James Hayden, baritone
Andrew Anderson, piano

The concert program listing all the performers is available here.

by Paul Muller
Contemporary Classical, Review

Gene Pritsker – Cloud Atlas Symphony

NEscapes Records has released Cloud Atlas Symphony, by Gene Pritsker, performed by the MDR Leipzig Radio Symphony and choir, conducted by Kristjan Jarvi. Some ten years in the making and based on music from the film ‘Cloud Atlas’ by Tom Tykwer, Jonny Klimek and Reinhold Heil, Cloud Atlas Symphony is a re-imagining of the film music into the wider context of a contemporary symphonic performance. As the composer writes in the liner notes: “I wrote this symphony because I was inspired by this story, by this movie and by a new concept of taking music, that was created specifically for film, and re-interpreting in a more abstract symphonic context. Putting some of this material into the more conceptual world of a symphony.”

Gene Pritsker has been a presence on the new music scene for many years as the founder of Sound Liberation and the Co-Director of Composers Concordance. He has written over 800 compositions and has a busy performance schedule in the US and in Europe. His work is not limited by genre or category and often crosses boundaries. Pritsker is at home with mostly smaller ensembles, but has also written chamber works and pieces for larger musical forces. Cloud Atlas Symphony, although owing much to the original film score, clearly qualifies as one of his more ambitious projects.

The first movement, “Evolving”, is typical of the entire symphony. All of the orchestra sections participate, often in layered phrasing and with strong dynamics. The brass and percussion are featured in an opening full of warning and premonition. As the tempo increases, great masses of sound build up, leading to a climatic cymbal crash. The woodwinds then enter with short, active cells while sustained notes in the brass echo the opening. There is a grand feeling to all of this; a majestic portrayal of nature expressed in the formation of high cloud banks. The texture ebbs and flows as different sections of the orchestra enter and exit, and this produces an active sense of evolution. Clouds are portrayed here as serious weather, never angry or menacing, but possessing a raw, untamed power. The orchestration is forthright and muscular, with gestures reminiscent of the first movement of David Diamond’s Symphony No. 1.

“Meditation”, the second movement, retains the same general form but is much more subdued. Soft, calming strings open with a quiet, flowing feel, followed by an expressive violin solo. Tension is introduced with a slightly dissonant clarinet passage and the theme is picked up by the horn. There is some really lovely orchestration here resulting in a sweetly introspective feel. A lush symphonic palette is liberally employed and this is also the case for many of the other movements. Pritsker happily piles up the sounds as if he is afraid of losing them for lack of use, but always with a good sense of color and balance. The playing by the Leipzig Radio Symphony is controlled and precise throughout.

“March”, the sixth movement, opens with slow piano chords in foreground against sustained strings underneath. This has an introspective, nostalgic feeling and the piano leads with declarative phrases in simple, spaced chords. At 2:31 the lower brass dominates with a series of long soaring lines. Woodwinds are above in staccato counterpoint and this leads to a more purposeful feeling, as in a slow but resolute march. This piece starts quietly and builds continually into a final statement from the brass that is full of power and triumph at the finish.

Some movements betray a more experimental influence. “Groove Travelers”, for example, has a distinctly percussive nature with gruff rhythms dominating in the foreground. Other movements are variously mysterious, dramatic, nostalgic or purposeful – all artfully add to the overall cloud portraiture. Capturing the variations of ever-changing cloud formations is a formidable task, both in film or in music. Cloud Atlas Symphony applies a full range of contemporary orchestral colors to create a vivid listening experience that convincingly evokes the majesty of clouds in nature.

A digital release of Cloud Atlas Symphony can be found here.

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic

John Luther Adams – Houses of the Wind

Cold Blue Music has released Houses of the Wind, a new album of electro-acoustic music by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer John Luther Adams. This was inspired by a 1989 recording of Alaskan arctic winds blowing through an aeolian harp. In listening to that original recording again, John Luther Adams writes: “The voices of the wind singing through the strings of the harp brought back vividly the clarity of light, the sprawling space, and the sense of possibility I had felt.” The recent pandemic lock down presented Adams with the studio time to electronically reshape the recording and the result is a five-movement piece consisting of variations on the same ten-and-a-half minute original. This was accomplished using voice layering, time stretching and pitch manipulation to fashion continuously changing patterns and textures of sound, as animated by the wind itself. Houses of the Wind is both a distillation and summation of the strong environmental influences present over the entire arc of Adams musical career.

All of the movements share the same general character – there are no formal rhythms or structures; the composer uses variations in the mix of pitches and changes in their intensity to express patterns in the wind. The overall effect is a wash of tones that change character relatively slowly and possess an organic sensibility that evokes the natural atmospheric phenomena. Each movement describes a separate category of wind. For example, the title of the first movement, Catabatic Wind, refers to a wind that carries high-density air from a higher elevation down a sloping terrain under the force of gravity. In Southern California, we have the Santa Ana winds, flowing from the high deserts down to the coast, and this is a catabatic wind. Accordingly, the first movement begins with high, brightly metallic tones, piercing and penetrating to the ear as the volume builds. The intensity suggests a bright, clear arctic day on a high plateau. The sounds swell and crest as the mix of pitches vary, gradually adding tones in the middle and lower registers as if describing a wind that is running ‘downhill’. About halfway through, the volume and intensity subside and there is a more reflective character as the piece quiets down, with middle and lower pitches predominating. Throughout the album, Arctic nature is invariably characterized as a positive force. Catabatic Wind, starts out forcefully and is generally one long decrescendo, unfolding with a regal impartially.

Mountain Wind follows and as might be expected, this movement is less settled. Beginning with low, softly droning sounds that gradually increase in volume, there is a sense of expectation as higher pitches are added and then fall away. These cycles continue, varying in duration and intensity with the middle and higher pitches spiking in volume – a metaphorical gusting of winds in the mountain passes. The sounds reach ever higher in pitch and volume – almost to the point of pain – recalling the sharp bite of the wind in an arctic mountain blast. There is also a mystical element to this movement that befits the imagined mountain scenery. Towards the finish the tones subside, becoming more distant and the pitch content becomes lower as the sounds get softer. At length, we are returned to the low drone of the opening. Mountain Wind artfully portrays the changing wind movements typical in mountainous terrain.

The middle movements, Tundra Wind and Canyon Wind capture the differing characteristics of the wind in these environments. Tundra Wind contains a mix of higher register pitches and a pulsing that evokes a swirling wind on an open landscape. The pitches seem more varied and active in this, giving a strong sense of motion. This is perhaps the most open and welcoming movement, a bit nostalgic, but never grim or angry. The intensity rises and falls as winds will do in an open space – a very beautiful portrayal. Canyon Wind provides a contrast, opening with high pitches that are brilliantly loud and hard on the ears. With lower pitches in between, the bursts of higher tones suggest the gusting of wind in a narrow canyon. About halfway through, there is a quiet lull, followed by the entrance of middle pitches that indicate a building breeze. This increases in volume and rises in pitch, but blows steadily without gusting before fading at the finish.

The final movement is Anabatic Wind, and this refers to a gentle wind blowing up slope due to the sun heating the surface of the ground. This movement opens with a low hum, quietly pulsing to create a feeling of solemnity. New pitches enter from the middle registers, not in force, but just enough to lighten the deep tones below. Additional higher pitches enter, swell up briefly, and then subside again as if in no hurry. The feeling becomes more optimistic with the added entry of these new pitches, less gloomy and ultimately bright enough to suggest a brilliant sun above. By 6:30 higher pitches dominate making for a harder sound, always increasing. The overall feeling, however, is a mix of the urgent and the settled; Anabatic Wind never seems aggressive or dangerous. In contrast to Catabatic Wind, the first movement, the gradual, continuous crescendo heard in Anabatic Wind is the reverse of the catabatic process, and makes a fine book-end to complete Houses of the Wind.

That five variations on the same original recording can be so distinctive while exhibiting the same general form is a tribute to the artful manipulation by Adams of density, volume and pitch within a limited context. This adds to the elemental feel of the piece and allows the wind to portray itself through the original recording. The direct articulation of wind into sound through the medium of the aeolian harp makes Houses of the Wind a unique convergence of music, emotion and nature.

Houses of the Wind is available from Cold Blue Music directly as well as from numerous CD retailers.



by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Ojai, Premieres

Ojai Music Festival – McIntosh and Aucoin

On Saturday, June11, 2022 the Ojai Music Festival evening concert featured Little Jimmy, by Andrew McIntosh along with Deep Water Trawling and Family Dinner, both by Matthew Aucoin. The Libbey Bowl was mostly filled as was the lawn seating. A perfect evening, clear and warm, added to the pleasant Ojai atmosphere.

Andrew McIntosh is a Los Angeles-based composer and gifted violinist who is also an avid outdoorsman. Andrew has made it to the summit of several peaks in the Sierras as well as Mount Shashta, and he can often be found hiking the local trails. Little Jimmy is named for a popular backpacking camp on Mount Islip in the San Gabriel Mountains. McIntosh has written several chamber pieces for strings, an opera – Bonnie and Clyde – and several microtonal pieces. He has also composed I Hold the Lion’s Paw, a large-scale work for the Los Angeles Percussion Quartet.

Little Jimmy springs directly from McIntosh’s environmental muse. Perhaps not surprisingly, this is a quietly nuanced percussion piece from a widely accomplished string player. The Libbey Bowl stage was set with hanging metal tubes, a steel plate, a vibraphone, triangles, a series of cymbals and a brake drum that brought to mind the inventive creations of Lou Harrison. Jonny Allen and Mari Yoshinaga were the percussionists while Conor Hanick and Matthew Aucoin were stationed at two pianos on opposite sides of the stage.

Little Jimmy opens in a series of triangle and percussive piano notes that give a rough, spiky feel, as if one is walking over the gravel of the San Gabriel foothills. A moment or two of silence follows and then a low roaring sound is heard from the rubbing of a rock on a piece of slate. A field recording of local bird calls evokes the remote landscape around a small creek or mountain stream. The vibraphone adds a few mystical tones, perhaps a glimpse of the high mountains ahead. The vibraphone plates are then bowed, adding to the sense of a transcendent immersion in nature.

As the piece proceeds, the quiet organic sounds give way to a more purposeful feel in the piano phrasing along with a few solitary chimes, perhaps signaling an ascent along the trail. Drones materialize with the drawing of cords across the piano strings. This sound intensifies while soft mallets on the metal tubes summon the mystical pull of the mountain peaks in the distance. A sudden, loud gong is struck followed by dramatic, low notes from the piano, signaling that the high point with a majestic view has been reached. After a short stretch of repeating phrases, perhaps indicating a descent, the bird calls and rushing sounds first heard at the starting point return. The rock is now rubbed on the brake drum along with a bowed cymbal that intensifies the feeling of completeness. A single chime sounds at the finish – a benediction in the cathedral of nature.

The subtlety of the piece was a perhaps a bit confusing to audience at first, but the quiet nuance encouraged close listening and the understatement soon came to be appreciated. Little Jimmy contains all the metaphorical elements of a picturesque hike in the San Gabriel mountains and was convincingly conjured through the imaginative use of percussion and two pianos.

An intermission followed and Deep Water Trawling, by Matthew Aucoin was next. This was everything Little Jimmy was not – loud, urgent and realized with formidable musical forces conducted by the composer. Despite these differences in approach and style, Deep Water Trawling shares with the McIntosh piece a similar attitude on the environment. The program notes state that Jorie Graham’s text for Deep Water Trawling “…addresses the issue of humanity’s impact on nature and the climate, presenting the perspective of the ocean from beneath in response to the problematic practice of fishing with a trawl net.” Accordingly, deep cello tones are heard in the opening along with piano notes in the lower registers. The instruments enter boldly, vividly evoking all the drama, mystery and pressure of the ocean depths. The vocal line “Ask us anything” initiates a dialogue between humans in the soprano voice and the creatures of the depths in the lower voices. There is a spooky and surreal feeling to this; we are clearly being called to account for over-fishing and other environmental transgressions perpetrated by humans in the ocean. As the piece proceeds, full voices and accompanying instruments weave a compelling and cautionary tale. Deep Water Trawling cries out as a powerful indictment of our stewardship of the sea and warns of the ultimate effects on our civilization.

Commissioned by the Ojai Music Festival, the world premiere of Family Dinner by AMROC co-founder Matthew Aucoin followed. This is a large-scale work consisting of a series of ‘mini-concertos’ connected together with poetry readings, spoken anecdotes and toasts such as might be offered at a large family dinner. The muscular musical forces on the stage gave vigorous voice to Aucoin’s vision of “dialogue movements, songful outpourings and raucous dances.” The AMROC personnel that made up the ensemble proved equal to rigorous task before them and performed brilliantly throughout this extensive piece. The sounds called for by the score were highly varied, depending on the scene, but the instruments and voices were always on the mark. Given its impressive length and heft, Family Dinner can trace no doubt its origins to Aucoin’s extensive experience in the world of opera. The music was artfully composed and skillfully performed, but stayed close to conventional gestures and forms. A dazzling platform for virtuosity, Family Dinner delivers almost too much – like an out-sized Thanksgiving meal.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Ojai

Ojai Music Festival – Julius Eastman

The 75th anniversary edition of the Ojai Music Festival opened on June 9 and ran through June 12, 2022. A full program was scheduled by Music Director Zack Winokur including 17 core artists, 20 collaborators and participation by the American Modern Opera Company (AMOC). A wide variety of music was planned, from J.S. Bach to Andrew McIntosh and included a world premier by Matthew Aucoin. The Ojai weather was perfect and a sizable crowd surged in and around Libbey Park, almost as if the pandemic had never happened.

The Friday morning concert, titled Eastman, was given over entirely to the works of Julius Eastman and featured cellist Seth Parker Woods with five other musicians from AMOC, all led by director Zack Winokur. Davóne Tines, bass-baritone, wrote that each collaborator in the ensemble made a commitment to “…meet weekly, for over a year, to discover and digest Julius Eastman’s work, share personal stories about what his absence from our educations has meant, play his music and the music of his contemporaries, and build a collective knowledge and informed performance practice together. This work has culminated in more than just a concert, but a way of working collegially and collaboratively – with care and holistic engagement of material that seeks to honor it through deep conceptualization. This is our effort to pay homage,”

Julius Eastman was gay, Black and a composer of new music at a time when none of these things were popular. He died too young and penniless. Eastman’s long and difficult struggles might naturally be expected to inform his music with a certain anger and exasperation. The genius of this concert, however, was that of the five pieces selected for performance, the first four were grounded in a spirituality that illuminates Eastman’s music in a new and compelling way. This, along with the extraordinary dedication of the ensemble to thoroughly explore this music through extensive rehearsal, resulted in a truly memorable performance.

The first piece on the program was Our Father and, although one of Eastman’s last works, was the perfect invocation. Davóne Tines deep voice led with a powerful chant accompanied by the double bass and cello. The feeling was almost medieval with long sustained tones and spare harmonies that would have been at home in any cathedral. Eastman’s formative years were spent singing in church, and this influence was clearly very strong, even in his later career. Budda followed, a more evocative piece with soft piano notes and long, extended tones in the other instruments punctuated by pizzicato notes in the double bass. The vocal line was wordless and consisted of sustained tones. The lovely harmonies that formed give this piece an exotic and transcendental feeling.

Gay Guerrilla was next, opening with solemn, repeating phrases in the piano that evoke an air of expectation. Soon, four hands on the piano built up the density and tension. The piece proceeds in a general crescendo, and as the other instruments of the ensemble enter, there is a definite minimalist vibe. The sound turns more dramatic as the extraordinary bass voice of Davóne Tines enters in the lowest possible register, adding a sense of the ominous to the already anxious feel in the ensemble. The playing is expressive, yet disciplined, even as the drama builds. The dynamic increases and the entire ensemble is now engaged in full voice – the volume developed by such a small group is impressive. Dissonance creeps in, adding menace to the texture. The bass voice enters, again in a very low register, evoking an almost Biblical sense of judgment.

As the piece proceeds from this point, the intensity rises and falls, but the dynamic is always building with the sound becoming almost primal at times. The bass voice enters to dominate, quoting the text of “A Mighty Fortress” with all the power and immediacy of Luther’s original hymn. The ensemble is now at full cry and along with the deep bass vocal, the feeling becomes one of great strength. Gay Guerrilla is not animated by political activism or anger, but rather by the immense power of Eastman’s inner spiritual resources – a true masterpiece.

Prelude to the Holy Presence of Joan d’ Arc followed, perhaps the most overtly religious piece in the program. Davóne Tines again leads the way, chanting a series of repeating phrases: “Saint Michael said”, Saint Catharine said”, “Joan speak boldly.” The impact of Tine’s strong voice increases as these phrases are repeated over and over, sometimes singly and sometimes connected together. The accompaniment is all but submerged by the mighty words; this is praying that would be at home in any church. Eastman appeals to the saint directly, as the program notes state: “Dear Joan, I have dedicated myself to the liberation of my own person firstly. I shall emancipate myself from the materialistic dreams of my parents; I shall emancipate myself from the bind of the past and the present, I shall emancipate myself from myself.” Written just before he became homeless, Prelude to the Holy Presence of Joan d’ Arc is further evidence of Eastman’s remarkable inward strength.

Stay On It finished the concert, and this was an inspired bit of programming. One of Eastman’s earlier works, it is upbeat and optimistic, fueled by a relentless improvisational joy. The ensemble was bouncy, but precise, with sunny repeating phrases and a pleasing groove. A strong drum beat added to the intensity of the texture as the bass voice loudly proclaimed “Stay On It!”; one could only marvel at Davóne Tines vocal stamina. At about the midpoint of the piece, the rhythms became syncopated and irregular, and “Stay On It’ is now heard as encouragement. The ensemble then resumes with its initial energy, reaching an almost Caribbean level of exuberance. This cycle of musical dissembly and recovery recurs so that “Stay On It!” becomes an outright exhortation. When heard through the lens of the previous Eastman pieces in this concert program, Stay On It becomes a statement of the composer’s dedication to his art, ‘staying on it’ despite the many challenges he encountered.

The group of musicians performing this concert at the 2022 Ojai Music Festival are based in Los Angeles and have demonstrated an extraordinary commitment to the music of Julius Eastman. This level of dedication and expertise deserves a wider audience – we can only hope that the larger performance venues in Southern California will schedule them soon.

Eastman Personnel:

Emi Ferguson, flute
Miranda Cuckson, violin
Seth Parker Woods, cello
Doug Balliett, double bass
Conor Hanick, piano
Davóne Tines, bass-baritone
Zack Winokur, director

by Paul Muller