Author: Paul Muller

Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Piano

New Universes: George Crumb’s Makrokosmos at 50

On March 15, 2022 Brightwork Newmusic and Tuesdays at Monk Space presented New Universes: George Crumb’s Makrokosmos at 50. The concert, featuring pianist Nic Gerpe, consisted of the first volume of zodiac music by George Crumb as well as twelve new pieces inspired by Makrokosmos . These made up the movements of The Makrokosmos 50 Project, the second work on the concert program and a Los Angeles premiere. George Crumb was born in 1929 and, after a long and creative life, passed away suddenly on February 6. This concert, planned earlier in the year, unexpectedly became a commemoration for George Crumb as well as the performance of one of his more popular works.

George Crumb was one of the most influential composers of late 20th century, winning the Pulitzer Prize for music in 1968. Makrokosmos Volume I, written in 1972, dates from what was a very fertile and artistically productive period in the composer’s career. His use of amplified piano, along with extended techniques and graphical scores, expanded the possibilities of piano music to new horizons. Crumb once noted that with Makrokosmos he intended to write “an all-inclusive technical work for piano ([using] all conceivable techniques).”

Makrokosmos, Volume I is subtitled Twelve Fantasy-Pieces after the Zodiac for Amplified Piano. There is about an hour of music in total, organized into three sections, each with four separate pieces. Each piece also has its own title, and while the work is based loosely on the signs of the zodiac, there is no attempt to characterize them with a personality. The pieces are given titles such as “Night-Spell”, “Primeval Sounds”, “Music for Shadows”, etc and are generally dark and otherworldly, as is the music. During this concert the sound of the piano almost always defied the listener’s preconceived expectations. The amplification and close acoustic of Monk Space made it seem as if one were inside the piano rather than out in the audience.

Pianist Nic Gerpe was certainly kept busy during the performance. Only occasionally were the sounds initiated conventionally from the keyboard and these were generally spare melodies of solitary notes or short, simple phrases. In some ways this trang casino trực tuyến work resembles the prepared piano music of John Cage, but instead of the strings being populated with various bits of hardware, the pianist must lean in to provide the external stimulus. Most of the time Gerpe had his hand inside the piano plucking, strumming or pounding on the strings even as he was also called upon to chant, whistle or sing miscellaneous phrases during the various sections. All of this was done with an amazing smoothness and economy of motion – there were no awkward pauses or sudden gestures as the music flowed forward. It is striking how differently the piano sounds in Makrokosmos, yet Gerpe was completely at home during the entire performance.

After an intermission, Gerpe performed the second work on the program, the Los Angeles premiere of The Makrokosmos 50 Project. This was twelve new pieces, each inspired by the original George Crumb work with twelve individual composers having created short piano pieces based on one of the zodiac signs. In some ways this was similar to a concert given by Synchromy in January where Karlheinz Stockhausen’s Tierkreis zodiac was presented along with twelve new pieces from contemporary composers based on the original. A small instrumental ensemble was used for the Stockhausen concert and the new pieces displayed a wide variety and independence from the style of the original.

Makrokosmos 50, however, was entirely piano music and held closely to Crumb’s vision of a piece consisting mainly of extended techniques. Each of the new pieces generally began with some integral component of the associated section of the Crumb zodiac: perhaps an opening chord or tone cluster, a direct quote, part of a phrase or fragment of a melody. Two of the composers actually submitted graphical scores and all made effective use of the many specialized sounds heard in the original Makrokosmos. The Crumb vocabulary for the amplified piano is highly original and yet was easily absorbed by each of the contributing composers: Juhi Bansal, Viet Cuong, Eric Guinivan, Julie Herndon, Vera Ivanova, Gilda Lyons, Alex Miller, Fernanda Aoki Navarro, Thomas Osborne, Timothy Peterson, and Gernot Wolfgang. The twelve new pieces convincingly evoked the powerful style of the original and served to illustrate why George Crumb is such a significant influence on contemporary composition.

There was an unusual incident during “Ghost of Manticore”, composed by Nic Gerpe, the fifth piece of this second half. The hall seemed to shake as fierce sounds poured from the piano like a volcanic eruption. It was as if the dark powers ,so prominent throughout the Crumb original, were being summoned by the pianist all at once. As the volume crested to its ultimate intensity, an alarm in the back of the hall went off and wailed continuously. The sounds mixed with the tones in the piano strings for a few moments until the performance was suspended and the alarm eventually silenced. It was probably just an old smoke alarm or motion detector that was overwhelmed by the sound pressure, but I prefer to believe it was George Crumb signaling his approval and wanting to join in. The Makrokosmos 50 Project was instructive listening as well as a fine tribute to an immensely influential composer.

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical

Molly Pease – Inner Astronomy

Inner Astronomy is an album of new vocal music from 4Tay Records and composer Molly Pease. Inspired by the poetry of the late Randall Pease, Inner Astronomy is structured as a cantata with exquisite singing and a superbly understated accompaniment from a small string ensemble. The music on the album reflects “ ..the poet’s search for strength and meaning through spare and metaphorical language…” and incorporates a number of experimental techniques. The result a testament to the emotional power of vocal music when guided by a spiritual theme.

The poetry of Randall Pease reflects the struggle of the poet with addiction, recovery, dementia, and cancer. But it contains, at the same time, vivid imagery and instances of hope and joy within its economical framework. Here is a fragment from the first track, Recovery Family:

Our love
Above
lip buds bloom as if they’re moons
Spirits starring, still eyes shining
To pass to others
As if one mother

The music for this is similarly concise, starting with a single vocal tone, whose pitch bends as it is sustained. The strings enter quietly underneath with a series of active phrases that contrast effectively with the smoothly expressive vocal line. The text is delivered calmly and deliberately as the strings, never dominating, add an undercurrent of uncertainty. This compact architecture is perfectly aligned with the feelings and sensibilities inherent in the poetry.

The other pieces on the album proceed in similar fashion – the vocals are always in the foreground with the string ensemble offering a subdued counter commentary. The overall sound is always under control and seldom includes any technical fireworks. Most of the tracks are short – less than eight minutes – but the emotional impact, rich details and technical precision are more than sufficient to fully engage the listener.

Track 5 is Higher Power and this piece combines three treble voices in close harmony along with the strings in a beautiful mix of interlacing parts and textures. The feeling is warm and expressive and the instrumental accompaniment is reminiscent of John Luther Adams’ string quartet music. The vocals enter again, building to a high dynamic peak, then subsiding back to the slow, lush sounds of the opening. The music reinforces the organically peaceful spirit of the text:

Green shadows
guide the way off
through tunnel trees
toward the sea
above.

While just a short piece, deer proud of our climbs extends the artistic horizons with three voices curling in and around each other with masterful harmony and a beautifully balanced vocal technique. Tree’s Me is another short piece that mixes a light violin pizzicato with whispering wind and voice reciting the text. Two singing vocals enter and are heard mingling with the words in a lovely harmony of sustained tones. In general, when multiple voices are heard in any of the pieces in this album, the singing is precise, the tones are pure and the balance with the accompaniment is extraordinary. Inner Astronomy is compelling vocal music.

The sound engineering, mixing and mastering by Umberto Belfiore deserves special mention. All the pieces were performed live in the sanctuary of First Congregational Church, Los Angeles but the result is as precise as any studio recording and every subtle detail is clearly heard.

The poetry and music of Inner Astronomy brings us face to face with our inevitable human anxieties, even as its graceful elegance bequeaths to us a quiet confidence.


The personnel on Inner Astronomy are:
Poetry by Randall Pease
Molly Pease, Kathryn Shuman, Sharon Chohi Kim and Lauren Davis, vocals
Rachel Iba, Nigel Deane, violin
Patrick Benkhe, viola
Tal Katz, cello
Miller Wrenn, bass
Fahad Siadat, conductor


The Inner Astronomy CD is available at Amazon Music. The CD and digital downloads are also available at Bandcamp. A book of poetry by Randall Pease and the published score are available at See-A-Dot Music Publishing.



by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical

Tasha Smith Godinez – Metamorphoses

Centaur Records has recently released Metamorphoses, a new CD of harp music by Tasha Smith Godinez. The album features six new works by five different contemporary composers who are friends and colleagues of Ms. Godinez. The result is an engaging variety of new music carefully crafted and brilliantly performed.

The opening piece on the album is Hidden, by Sidney Marquez Boquiren. This is intended as a social commentary on the current US immigration situation and was also inspired musically by another work for harp, Pièce Symphonique, by Henriette Reniè. Hidden opens with a strong chord by the harp rising from the lower registers marked by an unsettling, scrambled rhythm. There is a strong sense of the unseen and the mysterious. Clear notes and elegant arpeggios are heard that offer a vision of purity and order, but the rougher sounds invariably follow. At times the harp is strummed in the manner of a guitar, evoking the music of distant Mexico.

The variety of of sounds in this piece are impressive, with plucked harp notes heard as clearly as from a piano keyboard. The arpeggios are smooth and nicely shaped and the playing artfully sustains a sense of hidden uncertainty over long passages. The mix of standard intonation and extended techniques is masterfully applied throughout. Towards finish the tempo and dynamics build, increasing the tension between the clean notes and scratchy sounds. As the music softly fades away, the listener is left reflecting on the absence of justice and compassion. Hidden powerfully articulates the emotional conflict between the unseen world of the undocumented immigrant and the promise of a brighter future that is kept just out of reach.

Obsessive Imagery, by Michael Vincent Waller is next and the liner notes explain that his “…music can be described as lyrical and introspective, drawing inspiration from impressionism, post-minimalism and world music.“ All of these elements are present, beginning with a quiet opening arpeggio that is soon accompanied by an expressive counterpoint in the higher registers. As the piece proceeds the notes become ever more active, like the patter of a gentle summer rain. A simple piece that is gracefully beautiful and elegantly played, Obsessive Imagery manages to be both lyrical and introspective simultaneously in a way that adds to its appeal.

Track 3 is Born on a Wednesday by José Gurría-Cárdenas. Although this track is less than four minutes in length it features a strong pulse and a wide variety of playing styles. The piece works as a metaphor of the emotional oscillations of teen age youth, as based on memories by the composer of his son. The strumming here resembles a guitar as much as a harp and the piece swings between a heady optimism and brooding concern, never sure where it wants to land. There are lovely lyrical stretches and these are balanced by somewhat darker sections heard in the lower registers. About halfway through, the tempo slows to a more languid and gentle feel, brightening in the higher registers and returning to the strong beat of the opening just before it concludes. Born on a Wednesday is a nostalgic reminiscence of sunny youth, artfully performed.

Diomedea, for Harp and Khaen, by Christopher Adler follows, inspired by the great albatross sea bird species of that name. The khaen is a bamboo reed mouth organ associated with Southeast Asia that somehow sounds like a subdued brass section in the soft chords of the opening. The harp melody rides atop this accompaniment, much like a wandering albatross might glide along on the winds above the ocean waves. There is a wide and somewhat lonely feeling in this piece that evokes the long migratory flights of the diomedea across the vast and empty Pacific. The reedy sounds of the khaen nicely compliment the often dazzling notes coming from the harp. There are occasional syncopated lines from both instruments playing against each other, and this produces some interesting textures. A slower tempo towards the finish is heard with spare, melancholy notes in the harp – a bluesy feel that completes the piece. Diomedea is a fine tribute to a little known but impressive sea bird and its peripatetic seagoing lifestyle.

Track 5 is Mobile Active Simulated Humanoids, by José Gurría-Cárdenas, who “…takes into consideration how we as a society become disenfranchised, isolated and hopeless.” Soft plinking in the upper register of the harp opens this piece, accompanied by a stream of ominous underlying eighth notes below. A modest groove develops from this that soon morphs into a series of fragmented passages freighted with a feeling of alienation. The tension is sustained by the precise technical playing and contrasting emotions. The intonation is always clean and the notes crisply heard.

There is movement and direction in this music but it is also full of quiet desperation, with patterns that recur without any sense of resolution. Mobile Active Simulated Humanoids embodies the futility of an act of repetition that never improves its outcome and makes a gentle, yet powerful commentary on how we are continuously conditioned by society for conformity.

The final track of the album is Transfigured Verse, for Harp with Computer-generated Sound, by Jon Forshee, a piece inspired by an Old Testament story of David and a verse from Psalm 57. 1 Samuel 16 relates the story of how God, having rejected Saul as King of Israel, sends Samuel as his prophet to anoint the young David as the new King. An evil spirit sent by the Lord torments Saul, whose councilors observe: “See now, an evil spirit from God is tormenting you. Command the servants who attend you to look for someone who is skillful in playing the lyre; and when the evil spirit from God is upon you, he will play it, and you will feel better.” After some searching, David arrives with a lyre and his playing pleases Saul who takes him into royal service. Psalm 57:8, attributed to David, rejoices in the musical power of the lyre.

Awake, my soul!
Awake, O harp and lyre!
I will awake the dawn

The opening of Transfigured Verse is mysterious, quiet and introspective with a slight tension that builds from a high electronic sound. The playing starts out slow but the tension gradually increases as the harp and electronics contrast, perhaps recreating the mental distress that Saul may have felt. The electronics drone along in the background, never dominating, but delivering a relentless sense of oppression. The harp notes and chords gradually become more active, generating a restorative vigor that infuses the overall sound. Towards the finish the tempo slows and the harp notes are spaced out between silences and scattered electronic blips. The final feeling is one of relief so that Transfigured Verse softly and artfully brings out the healing powers of the harp.

The harp is known to most listeners from a few predictable solos in an orchestral context. In Metamorphoses, Tasha Smith Godinez continues to expand the vocabulary of the harp by exploring new horizons in contemporary music.

Metamorphoses is available from Amazon Music.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Synchromy Concert: Tierkreis L.A.

On January 8 and 9, 2022, Synchromy mounted two live concert presentations of Tierkreis L.A. Jason Barabba and eleven other local Los Angeles composers contributed new pieces inspired by the twelve original Tierkreis (zodiac) movements of Karlheinz Stockhausen. The Brightwork Ensemble was on hand to perform the music and the concert was accompanied throughout with artful cut paper and line drawing screen projections by Erik Ruin. The Ivy Substation Theater in the heart of Culver City was the venue and a lively musical preamble by SpacePants preceded the performance.

Tierkreis L.A. marks a bold beginning for the return of live concerts in 2022. The Omicron virus surge was in full cry, and had forced the cancellation of many public events. Synchromy, however, went ahead with the concert, restricting attendance to 50% with socially distanced seating and mandatory masking. Presentation of a vaccination card was required for admission.

Karlheinz Stockhausen (1928-2007) was a German composer and a leading member of the Darmstadt school, a group of composers that also included Pierre Boulez, Bruno Maderna, Luigi Nono. Stockhausen was active in the the mid and late 20th century in the fields of composition and musical theory. His works include pieces for solo instruments, songs, chamber music, choral and orchestral music as well as seven full-length operas.

Tiekreis, the German word for zodiac, consists of 12 individual pieces and was composed by Stockhausen between 1974 and 1975. Originally scored for twelve music boxes, each piece stands alone and can also be sung or played by any suitable instrument. Each is a simple, melodic characterization of the constellations in the zodiac, and Tiekreis proved to be one of Stockhausen’s most popular works. Tierkreis L.A. is based on the Stockhausen work and consists of two parts: an arrangement by Jason Barraba for chamber ensemble for each of the twelve melodies, followed by an original composition as written by twelve contemporary Los Angeles composers. Altogether Tierkreis L.A. includes 24 pieces of new music that stretches over two and a half hours.

Prior to the start of the concert, SpacePants – Jennifer Beattie and Diana Wade – entertained the incoming audience with dadaist-inspired poetry, vocals and vignettes, all built roughly on the zodiac theme. Volunteers from the crowd were encouraged to spin a carnival wheel that would come to rest pointing to one of the zodiac characters and SpacePants would perform a recitation or sing a vocal fragment that was related. A digital voice processor created some interesting effects and the singing by the two ladies was as impressive as their sparkly pants. A long, corrugated drainage tube, whose length could be stretched from three to over 20 feet, produced some of memorable moments when it was used to amplify the vocals. SpacePants manufactured just the right mix of the alien and the experimental, putting everyone in the perfect frame of mind for the music that followed.

The Tierkreis L.A. program consisted of twelve sections beginning with an arrangement of the original Stockhausen melodies by Jason Barabba for the Brightwork Ensemble. This was followed by a contemporary companion piece inspired by the zodiac segment. The ensemble consisted of piano, violin, cello, clarinets, flute, bass/baritone voice and a generous percussion section. A large projection screen displayed Stockhausen’s original text, and this was typically sung in German at the opening and repeated again in English when the segment concluded. Barabba’s orchestration from the existing source materials felt very much aligned with Stockhausen’s zodiac sensibility and the diverse instrumental textures of the Brightwork Ensemble served to compliment the warm and welcoming charm of the original.

Barabba also contributed a companion piece for ‘Leo’ titled Let Your Roar Be Heard or Do Aliens Have Astrology? The chamber ensemble provided a natural bridge – the timbres and textures overlapped nicely between the Stockhausen material and the new piece. There was a busy opening in the Barabba with fast phrasing in all the parts, but this settled into a proud and strong sensibility that complimented the regal leonine feeling from the Stockhausen. The projections on the screen were water color sketches of a lion in military regalia, and this captured the music perfectly. Barabba’s text, contributed by SpacePants, later became questioning: “Do aliens have astrology? Do they receive messages from the universe…” The music then turned from bold and confident to active and uncertain. Altogether this piece was a fine blending of text, music and images that worked together to amplify the original Stockhausen.

Other contributing composers fared equally well. ‘Scorpio’ was mysterious and spare with a high violin melody in the arranged Stockhausen that was beautifully played. Adam Borecki’s companion piece, S¢ø®¶πº took this further, and added a definite feeling of danger in his violin opening. The projected images reinforced this with an animated scorpion that moved malevolently about the screen in articulated segments. The Brightwork musicians all doubled on melodica for a time, increasing the sinister feel. The music and images together produced a surprisingly frightful experience.

‘Sagittarius’ began with a strong vibraphone line that was picked up by the piano in a jaunty melody. The screen displayed an animated archer shooting an arrow into the air which flew along for most of this segment. Vera Ivanova contributed a companion piece that began with an active, complex feel in the opening. As Ms. Ivanova explained in the program notes: “ When I was asked to write a piece based on ‘Sagittarius’, I had an idea to use as a framework for its form and instrumentation the pattern of alternating meters found in the original piece (5/4, 6/4, 7/4, 4/4, 3/4, 1/4, 2/4, 8/4).” As the intensity of the music increased, more arrows appeared on the projection screen as well as the side walls. The pace of the music was well-matched to the animations and built suspense as to where the arrows might land.

The ‘Gemini’ segment began with a playful feel in the wind instruments and confident optimism in the Stockhausen vocals. The companion piece, Perpendicular Twins, by Vicki Ray, paired the vertical harp and the plucked horizontal piano strings together with a bright pizzicato line in the violin and cello. This combination, along with increasing syncopation in the percussion, effectively added to a pleasing sense of buoyancy. The projections complimented with a series of large solid circles in vivid primary colors that slowly floated across the screen.

‘Capricorn’ completed the concert program and opened with the sharp click of castanets as well as a lovely flute solo. This nicely evoked the dark mystery of a winter night – the season of the year when the constellation of Capricorn is most clearly visible in the sky. Carolyn Chen’s companion piece, Birria, struck out in a much different direction, presenting the Angelino perspective, beautifully informed by our heavily Latin influence. Bírria is a Mexican a stew from Jalisco and this became the metaphor for the diverse and flavorful neighborhoods throughout the city. The piece opens with fast passages in the vibraphone with the winds and strings joining in to form a nice tutti groove. The images on the screen were very effective – animated drawings of landmarks and neighborhood scenes that were instantly recognizable and that seemed to grow directly out of the music. There was an intriguing combination of the exotic and the familiar throughout, and this resonated deeply with the locals in the audience. Birria was the ideal piece to send us out to experience the reality of the city having felt it anew in the music.

All of the zodiac companion pieces contributed by contemporary composers were artfully inventive as well as technically polished. The Brightwork Ensemble provided a common palate of timbres and textures giving a strong sense of unity to the entire Tierkreis L.A. program. The organization necessary to coordinate all the music, screen projections was heroic – the musicians had to rehearse, master and perform over two and a half hours of Stockhausen-inspired new music. A full list of the zodiac pieces and descriptions by all the composers is given here.

Tierkreis L.A. artfully combines the original inspiration of Stockhausen with new perspectives by twelve contemporary composers through a masterful performance by the Brightwork Ensemble.

Perhaps the greatest achievement by Synchromy is that the concert was performed at all. With all the uncertainties of the current Covid surge and the past two years of limited live performances, it took a special commitment to make Tierkreis L.A. a reality. This concert could be a turning point for the renewal of new music performances in Los Angeles as we move forward in 2022.

The Brightwork Ensemble is:

Scott Graff, Bass-Baritone
Aron Kallay, Piano
Brian Walsh, Clarinet
Maggie Parkins, Cello
Sara Andon, Flute
Nick Terry, Percussion
Shalini Vijayan, Violin


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

Jacob Cooper, Steven Bradshaw Sunrise

Sunrise is a new CD by Jacob Cooper and Steven Bradshaw, recently released by Cold Blue Music. Jacob Cooper has a long and distinguished composing career including commissions by the Los Angeles Philharmonic New Music Group, Eighth Blackbird, the Calder Quartet and others. His music has been performed by the JACK Quartet, the Minnesota Orchestra, Kathleen Supov, Timo Andres and many other well-known new music soloists and ensembles. Steven Bradshaw is a founding member of the two-time Grammy Award-winning ensemble The Crossing and has appeared with the Philadelphia Chamber Orchestra, Bang on a Can and the Network for New Music. Bradshaw is also a visual artist whose work has appeared in galleries around the world. Additional musicians heard on this CD were Dynasty Battles, piano, Clara Kim, violin and Timothy Munro, flute/piccolo.

Consisting of a single 32 minute track, Sunrise is a contemporary electro-acoustic update of or allusion to the classic The World Is Waiting for the Sunrise. Some of us may remember the Les Paul and Mary Ford recording from the 1950s, but it was originally composed by Ernest Seitz and Gene Lockhart over 100 years ago, during the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918 – 1920. The piece has subsequently had a long history of formal and popular performances by artists ranging from Fritz Kreisler to Willie Nelson. Cooper and Bradshaw collaborated back and forth on the piece over the course of the pandemic year 2020 while isolated separately in quarantine. The composers write that Sunrise emerged from a constant exchange of material: Steven would record melodies, improvisations, motifs, vocal scrapes, hisses, whispers and screams. Jacob would sonically manipulate them and generate new material, forging it all into a compositional framework.

The iterative nature of the composing process results in a layered texture that slowly changes its emotional surface as the piece unfolds. Soft buzzing and hissing open Sunrise and a series of quiet voices enter with an indistinct vocalise combined with sweet, sustained tones. What sound like male and female voices are heard separately with occasional sharp beats in the bass register. There is a prayerful, chant-like busyness of independent voices, that are active but do not share the beat. At this point there are no clear melodic clues to the popular origin of Sunrise, but there is a general sense of well-being in the vocal harmonies amid the mysterious and ritualistic feel.

At about five minutes, the bass beats are again heard, adding drama. Deep, processed male voices chanting in very low tones with unintelligible words enter, adding a faint sense of menace. By 11:00, a series of languid, interleaving vocal passages dominate that feature some really lovely harmonies and intelligible lyrics from the historical piece. The effect is soothing to the ear and full of reassurance.

By 16:00, however, strong distortion and harsh buzzing have replaced the calming vocals, and there is a clear change of emotional direction. The feeling is now more intense and mechanical while a single voice struggles to be briefly heard above the sea of harsh sounds. The darkness of pandemic and isolation seem to be descending on the world. There is little consolation here, but plenty of negative emotion. The sounds are dissonant, distorted and grating to the ear. A scattering of plaintive vocals are heard, but these are all but buried in the sonic chaos.

By 22:00 the voices fade away and the distortion becomes noticeably softer. Some light piano phrases enter as a repeating melody, becoming louder and more hopeful as the distortion diminishes. The voices now return in force, slowly chanting the familiar words of the original: Dear one, the world is waiting for the sunrise… This adds to the sense of uplift as the piano line continues to spin out its optimistic melody. Even the distortion, now much reduced, seems to be contributing to the harmony of the lyrics. With a decrescendo, the voices, piano and electronic distortion slowly fade away to finish the piece.

There have been many virtual performances in the past months as a response to the conditions imposed by the pandemic. Less common, perhaps, are collaborative works like this one that have been created while the composers are in forced separation. Sunrise is a vivid narrative of the pandemic story both then and now artfully crafted and masterfully realized.

Sunrise is available directly from Cold Blue Music, digitally from Amazon and as a CD through other music retailers.




by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Los Angeles

Chas Smith – Three

Three is a new CD release from Cold Blue Music by musician and master-machinist Chas Smith. Now residing in rural Grass Valley, California, Smith lived for many years in the San Fernando Valley, and this put him squarely in the center of the Los Angeles aerospace and movie industries. Smith was a student of James Tenney and Harold Budd, which led to later friendships with both men. Smith’s long experience as a machinist has resulted in the ability to fabricate specialized musical instruments and intriguing sound sculptures. His industrial metalworking is no doubt still in use, and his sound sculptures have been heard in a number of feature films. Several of these mechanical creations, with evocative names such as Que Lastas, Bertoia, Lockheed, Towers and Parabaloid, are heard on this new CD. Smith is also an accomplished steel guitarist and performs on two of the tracks. Chas Smith follows in the footsteps of pioneer Harry Partch and others who have conceived, designed and built their own instruments in order to realize a unique musical vision.

What does all this sound like? The press release declares that Three evokes “…a world of expansive musical tapestries, carefully woven textures, that evolve via slow, constant processes of change.” All of the tracks share a common form: an ambient cloud of sound, always in slow motion and subtly changing its emotional coloring.

Distance, the first track, opens with a buzzing and zooming sound while a sustained musical tone enters underneath. There are a variety of sounds present, but they all work together with exceptional coherence to create a warm glow. There is a sense of movement and power in lower registers that quietly rises and falls, as if passing by the listener at a distance. A low humming, like the beating of a multi-engine propeller aircraft is suggested, but this never dominates. No fewer than seven of Smith’s sonic sculptures and his steel guitar are included on this piece, yet these elements are perfectly realized and artfully mixed; they are always musical yet never lose their suggestion of the mechanical. The sounds are consistently engaging, but raise no expectations through tension and release. In the last two minutes bass pedal tones predominate, gradually reducing the sensation of movement and power as Distance fades to a deep finish, completing a captivating journey.

The Replicant, track 2, has a very different feel, starting with a deep, spacey sound that carries a mysterious, alien coolness and a sense of vast emptiness. There are artful combinations of musical tones and steely sounds, but in this piece a greater contrast is heard with the mechanical, now mostly in the foreground. Steely sounds in the middle registers seem to quiver like long, vibrating rods. Chimes are also heard, slightly less resonant than, say, church tower bells, but still well-shaped and full of presence. At about seven minutes in, deep, throbbing bass tones are heard, like the snoring of some great sleeping beast. As the piece proceeds, the texture is consistently rich but always changing on its surface. There is a gradual decrescendo in the final stages, as if we are slipping away in a dream.

The Replicant clearly features the mechanical sounds more prominently and while they often dominate, they are never intimidating. Smith’s realizations occupy a perfect middle ground between sound and music in the listener’s brain, and this works to expand one’s aural perception. Beautifully mixed and processed, The Replicant beguiles and engages.

The final track is The End of Cognizance and this acts as a summing up of all the sounds heard on this album. The structure is similar to the earlier tracks, but fewer of Smith’s sound sculptures are included. The End of Cognizance has an upward-looking feel, managing to be simultaneously introspective and optimistic. Bright, mechanical chiming dominates, especially in the upper registers, with continuous tones accompanying in the bass. The experience resembles being inside a large wind-up clock and the mechanical undercurrent is artfully combined with the sunny sounds of the chimes. As this piece proceeds, a soft growling is heard in the deep registers as the metallic sounds become lower in pitch, darker and more ominous. An increase in the harsher metallic sounds soon overtakes the more musical elements below. By 10:00 all this attains an intent that now feels malevolent. At about 14:40, several higher pitched chimes are heard, solitary and spaced out, like welcome beacons of hope shining forth from the gathering gloom. The chimes descend again to the lower registers, like the sinking of a ship, with a long decrescendo and the thinning of texture until the piece fades to a finish.

The End of Cognizance, as with the other tracks, is masterfully realized and brings beauty to the ear. The mix of musical and mechanically generated sound is seamless. The recording was by Chas Smith in his studio at Grass Valley and the mastering by Scott Fraser in Los Angeles – and the results are truly impressive. Three achieves a level of integration between the sound sculptures and a steel guitar that reach out to new musical horizons. We can all look forward to hearing more from Grass Valley.

Three is available directly from Cold Blue Music, Amazon and numerous CD retailers.

by Paul Muller
Chamber Music, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Ojai

Ojai Music Festival – Sunday Morning Concert

On the last day of the Ojai Music Festival, the 11:00 AM morning concert featured the LA Philharmonic New Music Group performing five works, including a world premiere. The concert opened with Río de las Mariposas, a 1995 piece by Gabriela Ortiz. The title translates to ‘River of Butterflies’ and was inspired by a trip down the Tlacotalpan River near Veracruz, Mexico when Ms. Ortiz was a youngster. The indigenous music heard during that trip, the tropical setting and the Caribbean music Ortiz heard as a student in London are all combined in the nostalgic and magical Río de las Mariposas. The piece features two harps and a steelpan – which would seem an unlikely ensemble – but the mystical sounds of the harps combined perfectly with the exotic steelpan to create an agreeable state of enchantment. It was amazing how many different pitches were heard from the steelpan, and the mix with the harp timbres was unexpectedly appealing. The sweet and simple melodies at the beginning became increasingly complex as the steelpan added its strong Caribbean flavor. Slower sections brought lush melodies that evoked the graceful image of a butterfly. Towards the finish, some tension crept into the harmonies and the rhythms in the melody gradually became faster as the dynamics rose at the end. Harpists Emily Levin and Julie Smith Phillips were superb and steelpan player Abby Savell was everywhere in the texture with precisely the right pitch. Río de las Mariposas is a beautiful portrait of the alluring combined with the exotic in music realized with an unusual set of instruments.

To give you form and breath, by inti figgis-vizeuta, followed and this was an even more imaginative ensemble, consisting of a mobile percussion trio. Each player was stationed near a collection of everyday objects such as flowerpots, empty bottles, wood blocks, drums and stove pans. This began with a series of rapid rhythmic passages from each player that soon developed a nice groove. The amalgamation of sounds was engaging as each percussion station added to a wonderfully diverse mix of timbres and tones. To give you form and breath is based strictly on the changing complexity and dynamics of the rhythms and these were artfully varied so as to heighten listener interest. The playing by Joseph Pereira, Eduardo Meneses and Amy Ksandr was amazingly precise and resourceful. The rudimentary nature of the percussion elements provide a strong connection to the primal and inti figgis-vizeuta writes that this piece “seeks to channel portions of that understanding through ‘ground’ objects and manipulations of rhythm as manipulations of time.” It is often observed that sometimes the most direct ideas are the best, and To give you form and breath certainly makes a compelling musical case.

Next was Hallelujah Junction, the 1998 John Adams piece for two pianos that is named after a truck stop on the California-Nevada border. This is a technically demanding piece and fortunately two of the best pianists in Los Angeles, Vicki Ray and Joanne Pearce Martin, were on hand to perform. This began with a series of bright, rapid phrases that streamed out from each piano. Although sharing the underlying pulse, each of the piano passages was completely independent, full of syncopation and separately uneven rhythms that interleaved with a joyful abandon. The two pianos traded phrases almost as if in a firefight, and this produced a delightful hail of notes and clusters. The playing here was of a very high quality and more impressive was the coordination between Ms. Ray and Ms. Martin, who were in constant eye contact and responded to each other’s outbursts with amazing precision. Although Hallelujah Junction can be very complex, it retains a strong minimalist influence that produced a pleasing groove; the audience in the Libbey Bowl was visibly engaged. Contemporary music, when it tends toward the complex, often builds up tension, but Hallelujah Junction always retained its cheerful exuberance.

There were slower stretches in the piece, with a smooth and flowing melodies providing contrast, but these soon gave way to the faster tempos and spiky rhythms of the opening. There was a short section with the pianos in unison, a call-and-response section and eventually, a big, loud finish. Hallelujah Junction is a memorable work because of its audacious architecture and because of the technical demands placed on the performers – it is hard to imagine how it could have sounded any better than this year at Ojai..

Objets Trouvés followed, a viola piece by Esa-Pekka Salonen with Teng Li, principal violist of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, as the soloist. This was one of a series of short works commissioned for UK violist Lawrence Power, for the purpose of being distributed during the pandemic lock down via film and video; this was its first live concert performance. Objets Trouvés opens with a low electronic drone that at first seemed to be a fault in the sound system. The viola enters, however, and sounds a series of notes near the pitch of the drone, clarifying their musical relationship. After a time the listener accepts the drone as part of the musical landscape and it forms a useful counterweight in tension with the solo viola. Soon, a series of dramatic and rapid phrases are heard that must be very difficult for the soloist, but all were successfully navigated by Ms. Li. The viola passages eventually become slower and more melodic and these were masterfully played by Li with a deep, mournful expression as the piece glided towards its quiet conclusion. Objets Trouvés is a passionate answer to the long suspension of live performances and a reminder of what the Ojai Festival represents for the return of live music in 2021.

The final work of the concert was Sunt Lacrimae Rerum, by Dylan Mattingly. This was a world premiere performance and a co-commission of the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Ojai Music Festival. Two pianos and two harps made up the ensemble, bringing back to the stage pianists Vicki Ray and Joanne Pearce Martin along with harpists Emily Levin and Julie Smith Phillips – a formidable concentration of talent. Sunt Lacrimae Rerum was inspired by the California fires that raged in September 2020, darkening for a time the daylight throughout the Bay Area. Dylan Mattingly writes: “The sky hummed with a dark orange glow, the only vestige of our star hidden by wildfire smoke high in the air.” The score set out to evoke the unique drama of this moment using “notes the listeners have never heard before.” Accordingly, the two pianos were carefully re-tuned microtonally while the harps remained in standard temperament.

Sunt Lacrimae Rerum opened with the harps playing gently in unison with the pianos entering with active, repeating phrases in the upper registers. A fine groove developed that was abetted by sharp chords from the harps sounding below. The phrases for all the instruments, although independent, eventually migrated up the same registers, enhancing the differences in the tuning. This ultimately became a gentle patter, like raindrops falling in a summer shower. For once the usually reliable Ojai sound system may have let the listeners down a bit – with all the sounds in the same high register and with similar timbre, it seemed more difficult to discern the nuances and interactions of all the notes. The phrases accelerated and the quantity of notes increased so that the overall sounds began to resemble a music box. Strong chords by the harps below added a welcome floor, giving these later passages a bit more depth. The pianos replied with strong chords of their own and soon raised the intensity to a powerful finish.

There is no anger or high tension in Sunt Lacrimae Rerum, but rather a potent cathartic release from the drama of the uncertain wildfire situation of that day. This is not a sorrowful or mournful piece, but, as Dylan Mattingly wrote, “… rather an offering of the life we’re looking for, a transfiguration, the other side.” The Ojai audience agreed, and responded with an enthusiastic ovation.

The 2021 Ojai Music Festival proved to be a great success, if only because it was actually staged. The performances were up to past festival standards and the attendance was gratifying. The credit goes to the festival organizers and musicians who made the commitment to this event despite the great uncertainties of the pandemic.

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

Ojai Music Festival – Timo Andres in Recital

The 8:00 AM Sunday morning concert featured pianist Timo Andres in recital. His first set was from the cycle titled I Still Play, and consisted of several piano pieces written by a group of composers associated with Nonesuch Records. The occasion was the retirement from Nonesuch of Robert Hurwitz, president of the recording label for 32 years, who has long been a strong supporter of contemporary music. Hurwitz is also a talented amateur pianist who begins each day with serious time at the keyboard. The list of composers who contributed is impressive, with names such as Philip Glass, Nico Muhly, Steve Reich, Louis Andriessen, Laurie Anderson, John Adams and Timo Andres himself.

The piano pieces of I Still Play are all miniatures, and were intended both as a tribute and as exercises to be played by Hurwitz during his daily keyboard sessions. Andres played them serially and without separate introductions, but many of the styles were immediately recognizable. The first piece, Evening Song No. 2, was gently quiet and reserved, but unmistakably Philip Glass. The Nico Muhly piece, Move, had his characteristic energy and verve. The Timo Andres piece, Wise Words, was slower and more deliberate, while For Bob, bounced along with a characteristic Reich groove. The other pieces ran the range from playful to respectful with the title piece, I Still Play, by John Adams, ending the set with a quiet reverence. All the pieces were sincere and heartfelt expressions of appreciation to Hurwitz, who had played a key role in musical careers and to the progress of new music in general.

Impromptus, by Samuel Adams followed, a work written for Emanuel Ax and inspired by Franz Schubert’s Four Impromptus. Impromptus was originally intended to serve as bridges played between the Schubert movements. The Adams piece, heard in this recital on its own, begins with an active phrasing in the upper registers and sustains a mobile feel as if always on the move. There is a pointillist sensibility to this that artfully brings the many notes of the individual phrases together into a series of cohesive gestures. Adams writes that “Each impromptu is carefully constructed, but rooted in a simple impulse.” As the piece proceeds, there are slower stretches marking transitions to offset the faster parts, leaving a pleasantly reflective aura surrounding the listener. Timo Andres played each impromptu cleanly and with great sensitivity. After an impressive cadenza-like finale, Impromtus fades to its finish.

The recital concluded with the inventive Imaginary Pancake by Gabriella Smith. This opened with fast passages in both the very high and very low registers of the piano. The notes in the chords were at times so widely separated that extreme manual was required. Timo Andres was physically tested and could occasionally be seen with his arms crossing over as he reached for the right keys. A lilting, boogie woogie groove often broke out from the dense rhythms. An effective contrast soon appeared with a series of muscular chords below and a running tinkle of higher notes above. This eventually morphed into a loud banging of chords at both extremes of the keyboard, with Andres needing every inch of his wingspan to reach the farthest keys. Happily, the phrasing worked its way back towards the middle of the piano and the mix of descending and ascending chords combined for a splendid sound. It would seem that the composer was intent on using every one of the 88 keys, but it was all in good musical form and expertly played by Andres.

As Imaginary Pancake wound down, there were softer and more dramatic chords below with a simple running line above. The decrescendo continued until Andres reached into the piano case to further suppress the remaining high notes by pressing on the strings, and the piano faded to a quiet finish. Reflecting on the evening’s surprises and artistry, one couldn’t help but draw parallels to the carefully curated experiences offered by top online casinos, where innovation and meticulous design create engaging environments full of unexpected delights. Imaginary Pancake is full of delightful surprises and has an impetuous spirit – a fine piece on which to conclude this recital.

Despite the early hour and morning chill, a fine crowd gathered in the Libbey Bowl to hear Timo Andres perform – another marker of the public enthusiasm and musical professionalism present at the 2021 Ojai Music Festival.

by Paul Muller
Chamber Music, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Ojai

Ojai Music Festival – Friday Evening

The Ojai Music Festival was re-scheduled this year from the traditional June to mid-September as a result of the continuing Covid pandemic. All the precautions were in place to meet local mandates – proof of vaccination was required for entry and masks must be worn in all concert venues. Even so, the crowds were as large and enthusiastic as ever despite the restrictions and a token anti-mask protest at the entrance to Libbey Park. It was a relief that the festival was finally happening and ready to present live music.

The Friday night, September 17 concert opened with a Chumash blessing by tribal elder Julie Tumamait-Stenslie, impressively arrayed in full regalia. This took the form of two chants in the Chumash language and a simple accompaniment with hand percussion. Elder Tumamait-Stenslie sang out in a clear, steady voice that filled the Libbey Bowl with warmth and welcome. This beautiful invocation needs to become an Ojai Music Festival tradition.

Danse sacrée et danse profane by Claude Debussy followed, with Emily Levin performing on solo harp. A small string orchestra accompanied, and the graceful music of Debussy proved to be the perfect segue from the gentle Chumash prayers. Emily Levin was flawless and seemed to be playing, from memory no less, in every measure of the piece. The ensemble was well-balanced and the excellent sound system in the Libbey Bowl reliably carried every 19th century nuance out into the still night air.

The quiet reserve of the Debussy piece set the stage for the West Coast premiere of Chamber Concerto, a dynamic five-movement work by Samuel Adams written in 2017. Samuel Adams is the son of composer John Adams and so grew up in the context of contemporary music. His wife, Helen Kim, is the principal second violin with the San Francisco Symphony and his sister is also an accomplished violinist. Chamber Concerto combines Samuel’s appreciation of the violin with a solid command of orchestral forms. The violin soloist for this piece was Miranda Cuckson, who gave what proved to be a compelling performance that delivered equal measures of power, drama and introspection.

“I. Prelude: One By One”, the opening movement, begins with a poignant violin solo as the orchestra sections, entering by turns, combine in a beautiful tutti sound. This quiet beginning prefigures the general pattern – Chamber Concerto tends to merge the gestures of the soloist into the rest of the orchestra, amplifying the emotions, rather than having the violin stand apart in conversation with the orchestra. The solo passages weave in and out of the tutti sections with a smoothness and elegance that is both pleasing and effective. “II. Lines (after J)”, the second movement, is faster and includes some quotations from John Adams’ Harmonielehre. There is an uptempo and playful feel, especially in the woodwinds, and a general increase of activity in all sections. The solo violin adds a bit of tension to what is now a swirl of complex passages. The strings pick this up, frantically opposing a low growling in the double basses. The stress peaks with a piercing piccolo passage and the solo violin then discharges the built-up tension with a lovely melody line that is heard against a sustained deep tone in the basses. The movement ends in a powerfully reflective violin solo heard with the orchestra almost entirely silent.

The third movement, “III. Aria Slow Movements”, continues this introspective mood with a solo line that was both solemn and restrained. The violin solo proceeds with a slow and almost mournful feel, working against gentle pedal tones in the basses. The result is very moving and provides a fine contrast to the frenzy heard in the heart of the second movement. The solo violin parts in movements 2 and 3 ran the range from complex and technically demanding to restrained and highly expressive – all masterfully handled by Ms. Cuckson.



Movement 4, “IV. Off/On” returned to the faster pace with all of sections of the orchestra joining in to create a cauldron of active syncopation. This eventually sorted itself into a more purposeful feel, with strong gestures passed around as the soloist darted in and out of the mix. The tension quickly increased in all sections and was only relieved by the arrival of the final movement, “V. Postlude: All Together Now”. This completed the work with a suitably slow and reflective ending. Chamber Concerto is an amazing piece that stretches the listener, the soloist and the players to their limits. This was a signature performance for the Festival Orchestra musicians, Miranda Cuckson and Samuel Adams.

After a short break, the concert continued with the prelude from Partita No. 3 in E major, BWV 1006, by J.S. Bach. Miranda Cuckson returned to perform this work for solo violin. She was located off-stage by an oak tree in a sleeveless gown, exposed to what had become the chilly Ojai evening air. Nevertheless, all of the many musical virtues of J.S. Bach were on full display, complete with strong rhythmic propulsion and Ms. Cuckson’s solid technique that sounded as if there were at least two instruments playing simultaneously. The Bach brought a bit of familiarity to the audience after the intensity of Chamber Concerto, and figured into the story behind the next piece on the program.

Fog, by Esa-Pekka Salonen followed, with orchestral forces that included strings, woodwinds and percussion. Fog was composed in honor of Frank Gehry, the architect of Disney Hall in Los Angeles. It was inspired by the Bach Partita No. 3 which was the first music ever heard in Disney Hall, played while testing the acoustics of the space when it was still under construction. Esa-Pekka Salonen recalled the sounds of the violin drifting upward into the cavernous spaces of the new hall, as if it were a lifting fog or mist.

Fog begins with an active, uptempo feel in all the orchestra sections producing a pleasing variety of interesting sounds. Because it directly followed the Partita No. 3, there were definite elements of Bach DNA to be heard in Fog with repeating passages and strong, active rhythms. As the piece progressed, the density of the texture increased along with a noticeable element of syncopation. There was a fine piano solo midway, but the complex, swirling sounds eventually dominated, especially in the woodwinds. Fog, always in motion and full of sunny optimism, was a welcome return of the Salonen style to Southern California. The composer was on hand to receive a substantial ovation from the Ojai crowd.

The concert continued with Flow, a piano concerto by Ingram Marshall featuring Timo Andres as soloist. This work was originally commissioned by the Los Angeles Philharmonic for the Green Umbrella series of 2016. Marshall has been a close friend of John Adams since their experimental music days in the 1970s Bay Area and this piece was written with Timo Andres in mind. Flow is a fitting title for this piece, opening as it does with deep, sustained tones in the strings while the piano quietly enters with single notes, tremolos and trills. The surging swell of sound in the orchestra, contrasted by the high running lines in the piano, nicely evoke a flowing stream or strong tide. As the piece proceeds, the piano line mixes in with the orchestra to complete the liquid feel. As Marshall writes “The music is all about flow, and I didn’t realize this was the case until I heard how fluid and smoothly running the material is.” Andres never forced the piano passages, artfully weaving the moving lines in and around the orchestra, or blending as needed. Flow precisely combines the available musical forces to capture the essence of a lively moving liquid.

The final work in the Friday night concert program was Running Theme by Timo Andres, for string orchestra. The piece has three sections, with harmonic and rhythmic variations based, as Andres writes, on the interval of “ a fifth broken over a dotted rhythm.” The strong opening chords and syncopated passages against the bass line give a surging feel to this and the repeating cells provide a generally bustling texture. Later in the piece the rhythms in each orchestra section play off against each other until eventually a nice groove breaks out. Running Theme provided an energetic ending to a fine concert program.

The Friday, September 17 evening concert was thoughtfully programmed and precisely performed. The organizers and musicians deserve the credit for this, and the public responded by attending in gratifying numbers. The uncertainties and restrictions of the present pandemic had only a minimal effect on the 2021 Ojai Music Festival – and this is very good news.

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Piano

Peter Garland – Three Dawns and Bush Radio Calling

A new CD of solo piano music by Peter Garland has been released on the Cold Blue Music label. Two pieces comprise the album: Three Dawns, inspired by the poetry of Jean-Joseph Rabéarivelo and Bush Radio Calling, written specifically for avant-garde theater with a total of nine movements. Peter Garland is a well-known composer with deep roots in contemporary music from long association with important influences such as Lou Harrison, Harold Budd, James Tenney and Conlon Nancarrow. The performer for this album is Ron Squibbs, pianist, academic and a leading authority on the music of Iannis Xenakis. This latest album takes us on an exotic journey of the Southern Hemisphere via Garland’s extraordinary musical inspirations.

Three Dawns (1981-82) is a three-movement piece built around material contained in The Negritude Poets: An Anthology of Translations from the French. This was edited by Ellen Conroy Kennedy and contains the work of Malagasy poet Jean-Joseph Rabéarivelo. The beginning of “Movement 1” is a series of halting passages that propel it along in a comfortable, ambling gait. A nice groove develops and a strong bass line provides a solid foundation. At just 2:49, this short opening movement with sunny harmonies and a relaxed feel is like taking a quiet stroll on a summer’s day in Madagascar.

“Movement 2” is more than twice as long as both outer movements combined and begins with a solitary string of notes in the lower registers. There is a solemn, contemplative feel to this as a warm melody enters from above. The harmony lightens and the sense of optimism builds, like the sun rising on an empty beach. The repeating theme in the bass line provides a sure foundation, anchoring the agreeable phrases heard in the upper registers. This is lovely music – thoughtful but not too precious – and yet beautifully quiet and serene. A da capo towards the finish reprises the opening, completing the circle. “Movement 3” is the bookend to the first movement, with a strong bass line and choppy rhythms in the upper register. The same optimistic feelings are evident as this rocks gently to a close. Three Dawns is the perfect musical escape to tropical solace and tranquility.

The second piece on the CD is the nine movement Bush Radio Calling, a 1992 composition written in Island Bay, New Zealand. This music was composed for a play titled Just Them Walking produced by the Red Mole experimental theater company. The play describes the fanciful journey of a citizen militia called by Bush Radio to escape civil unrest by fleeing to the Remote Experience Zone on the far side of the Bridge to Nowhere. The play is a series of unlikely adventures populated by colorful characters who are confronted with a series of bizarre situations. After completing the score, Garland went on tour as the pianist with the Red Mole company.

The first movement is “Ringatu (Variations on a Chord by Dane Rudhyar) for Alan Brunton”. This evokes an exotic and dramatic setting with a series of strong, chiming chords. The phrases are simple, repeating with slight variations in the harmony. The pattern also includes asymmetrical rhythms and changing dynamics. There is no melody to distract from the variations in the chord with each phrase, and this succeeds in packing a lot of expression into a minimum of musical materials. Movements 2 and 3, “ Visions of El Niño Doctor” and “ Visions of El Niño Cieguito”, respectively, are short and direct, consisting of a series of strong chords with brief silences in between. There is a vaguely Latin feel to this that adds to the overall exotic character. “ Visions of El Niño Cieguito” is alternately robust and subdued in the dynamics and a bit more introspective.

The fourth movement “La Princesa (Wanganui Waltz) for Sally Rodwell” proceeds in halting, broken rhythms consisting of moderate chords that recall the “El Niño” movements. Wanganui is the name of a river in New Zealand that is invoked in the plot as the characters continue their journey by riverboat and the music here has a sense of subdued grandeur. Movement 5, “The Bellbird’s Song”, adds more color to the drama of the river passage and opens with a string of single notes in a high register with two pitches in a chattering, birdlike rhythm. The phrases repeat like a bird call but with slightly halting rhythms. New chords fill in around the bird call that are very simple at first but then a deep bass line is heard that adds a sense of majesty. A regal sound with deep, full chords ends this short movement.

The title of the fifth movement, “Hiruharama,” is the name of a New Zealand town (and the Maori name for Jerusalem). The riverboat travelers on the Wanganui hope to find Mother Aubert’s secret herbal remedies in what is only one of the many intriguing plot twists. Four chords open this, followed by a brief silence. The chords, with slight variations in the harmony, repeat in groups of two, three or four. Elegant and mysterious, there is again an exotic and regal feel. As the movement proceeds, the sequence of strong chords is followed by a single pianissimo chord in a high register, as if in a metaphorical dialogue of truth to power. At the finish, a series of soft, two-note chords is heard alone – truth has prevailed.

Movement 7 features a reappearance of disjointed rhythms and bold, dynamic chords. The piano playing by Ron Squibbs here, and in all the movements, is technically exceptional and infused with human emotion that makes this music very listenable. Movement 8, “The Wedding (The Bride Shoots the Bachelor, Even.)”, is a complex rhythmic structure that never quite gets started or developed into a groove, but the phrases are engaging and keep the piece moving forward. The final movement, “Bridge to Nowhere”, features bright chords heard in the higher registers and has a sunny, optimistic feeling. The phrases seem to repeat with slight variations, adding a bit of an alien feel that is both mysterious and open-ended. The “Bridge to Nowhere” is full of luminous promise, but ultimately lives up to its name. Bush Radio Calling is an inventive and curiously singular piece, packing a lot of energy and emotion into just a piano score. Peter Garland has masterfully created a strange and romantic musical world that compliments the action of the play and brings the listener along for the journey.

Three Dawns and Bush Radio Calling is available directly from Cold Blue Records (CB0059) as well as by digital download from Amazon. Cold Blue Music is also available from many retailers throughout the world.



by Paul Muller