Tomorrow (Nov 6) soloist Nicholas Daniel (left) and the Britten Sinfonia give the world premiere of John Tavener’s oboe concert Kaleidoscopes at London’s Queen Elizabeth Hall. The new work is Tavener’s tribute to Mozart, but, as well as an oboe soloist and chamber orchestra, the score calls for the distinctly non-Mozartian forces of a very large gong and four Tibetan temple bowls. Any John Tavener premiere is big news, but this one is even bigger news because Nicholas Daniel is blogging as he prepares for the first performance. For the full story and links take An Overgrown Path.
Leach_Xantippe_sRebuke_pg12[1].pdf
From Sequenza21 regular Mary Jane Leach:
Xantippe’s Rebuke, for oboe soloist and eight taped oboes, is an intense study in sound that tickles your ears. It will be performed on the Sequenza 21 Concert by Matt Sullivan. I’ve written about my approach to writing it, which I hope you will find interesting.
My work has primarily been concerned with exploring sound phenomena – combination, difference and interference tones. I work very carefully with the specific sound properties of each instrument that I write for, qualities that change from instrument to instrument.
Initially this was done in rather direct, almost linear, ways, writing pieces for multiples of instruments, or similar instruments, that I could perform myself, taking advantage of 8-track tape machines to make the pieces. At first I wrote only for instruments that I could play myself (clarinet, bass clarinet, voice).
Two developments that helped me to expand my approach were working with vocal ensembles that could perform my multi-track vocal works, and working with music software on the computer. Using vocal groups freed up the music, releasing it from the constraints of click tracks and the rigidity (both of tempo and dynamics) that resulted from making pieces on tape, opening up the sound. By using the computer and midi playback, I was able to start writing for instruments that I didn’t play. Midi playback enabled me to compose studies of the instruments and to hear the resulting sound phenomena of these instruments without having to go through the laborious task of making multi-track study tapes of the instruments (and dealing with the problems of machines with slightly different speeds).
At first I had to tweak the sounds available to get the right overtone distribution, but eventually I started working with the Proteus instrumental sounds, which, if not perfect, at least are pretty accurate in their overtone profiles.
Writing for solo instruments is a challenge. One of the main problems, at least for me, is that I’m just not interested in even listening to a solo piece (with a few notable exceptions, but those pieces are generally for string instruments that can play multiple stops).
A way around that for me is to write a taped part that a performer plays along with in concert. At first I tried a music minus one approach, but quickly realized that that just didn’t work. If the taped parts and the live parts need to match in sound quality, then the live part is never going to match the taped sound, so the live part will either stick out like a sore thumb or will be masked by the taped parts. I tried a music plus one approach, in which the entire piece is on tape and then I augmented it in performance, but that would be too boring for anyone else to perform. I wanted to write pieces for soloists that they would want to perform and that would give them some freedom.
So I finally decided to write a solo piece that would be played with a taped part of multiples of that instrument, a sort of concerto. The taped parts would be equal and interdependent, while the solo part would be a “real” solo, in which the performer has some flexibility.
Xantippe’s Rebuke works very carefully with the unique sound of the oboe. (The partials of the oboe are so intense, that I had to stop using headphones while I worked on the piece.) The taped oboes are written to exploit its sound properties. I started with unison pitches that created the richest sound and built the piece from there. Most of the subsequent pitches and phrases that I wrote sounded acoustically before I notated them later on in the piece, and these in turn created other sound phenomena. So, in effect, the nature of the oboe and its natural sound properties determined the direction of the piece. Panning affects what happens sonically, and I worked with that. I also used panning to give cues to the performer (in addition to pitch cues), as an aid to orientation.
The solo part starts off by playing notes that are being created, but not notated or played, on the tape (sound phenomena), continuing on to play a melody that “floats” above the taped oboes.works very carefully with the unique sound of the oboe. (The partials of the oboe are so intense, that I had to stop using headphones while I worked on the piece.) The taped oboes are written to exploit its sound properties. I started with unison pitches that created the richest sound and built the piece from there. Most of the subsequent pitches and phrases that I wrote sounded acoustically before I notated them later on in the piece, and these in turn created other sound phenomena. So, in effect, the nature of the oboe and its natural sound properties determined the direction of the piece. Panning affects what happens sonically, and I worked with that. I also used panning to give cues to the performer (in addition to pitch cues), as an aid to orientation. The solo part starts off by playing notes that are being created, but not notated or played, on the tape (sound phenomena), continuing on to play a melody that “floats” above the taped oboes.
When it came time to name this piece, I was having a difficult time. I went through old notebooks to find an inspiration. Years ago, I had jotted down “Xantippe,” because I liked the name, and I decided that I’d like to use it. One, I thought it would be great to have a piece that began with “X” and two, I thought Xantippe had gotten a bum rap through the centuries. She was the wife of Socrates, and was known for being a scold. But since Socrates didn’t work and hung out all day talking with his followers while she ran the household, I think that characterization is unfair. I might have done more than dump the contents of the chamber pot on his head. This piece is Xantippe’s chance to speak up on her behalf.
The clock is ticking and things are pretty tense here in the old control room. The fate of the Republic hangs in the balance. I refer, of course, not just to next week’s election which is only the most important one we’ve had in the past 250 years but to tonight’s showdown between number 3 West Virginia (yea) and number 5 Louisville (boo). May rightousness (my team) prevail in both encounters.
With that in mind, it seems like a good day to talk about graphic scores. What are they? Who does them? And, most importantly, why? Start here with Roger Bourland’s post about George Crumb, which is accompanied by a score that looks like a seating plan of Giants Statium laid out for a Stones concert.
Morton Feldman
An 80th Birthday Celebration
Merkin Concert Hall
Saturday, October 28, 2006
I am perpetually late with birthday greetings. This past Saturday, as my wife and I entered the city for the Morton Feldman concert, I called my grandmother to wish her a happy birthday two days late. I felt a little better about myself when my wife pointed out that Morton Feldman’s 80th birthday celebration was being held a full nine and a half months after his 80th birthday.
I am just glad that the concert came together, though. The number of people who attended is a testament to Feldman’s influence over the years. La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela were unmistakably present – you can’t miss Young in his sleeveless biker jacket. Another composer known for longer than normal tones, Phill Niblock, was also in attendance. And Bunita Marcus, of course, who helped pull the whole thing together.
We arrived very close to show time. The doors were closed behind us, and we were told there would be no leaving the room except during intermission, due to the fact that the performance was being recorded. We took our seats, the lights dimmed, and Aki Takahashi walked on stage to loud applause.
Takahashi bowed, then sat at the piano. The applause quickly fell to silence, and Takahashi sat silent for a moment in preparation. The first piece was “Piano”, written in 1977. I am relatively familiar with the piece from recordings, but a couple of differences in the live performance struck me right away. First, it was apparent that I listen to Feldman’s music way too loud. I guess I knew this on some level, but during the performance it took a while for me to become accustomed to the low dynamics. While “Piano” has more dynamic range than many other Feldman pieces, the extreme quiet of the soft sections made the other noises around me – the coughing and even the breathing of the rest of the audience – much more pronounced. But that is part of the point, isn’t it?
The second thing that struck me in live performance was my anticipation of upcoming notes. In a recording of Feldman’s music, I never really make an attempt to anticipate the notes coming up. This is really great in the longer pieces, because of how Feldman plays with memory – my memory anticipates one thing based on something I heard ten minutes ago, but something else comes up to my surprise, even after I think I know the piece completely. In the live performance, though, I couldn’t help but watch Takahashi’s hands and anticipate the next notes to be played.
I overcame this with the second and last piece of the evening, “For Bunita Marcus,” by closing my eyes. I only thought to do this after I saw Bunita Marcus doing the same thing. I highly recommend this when listening to Feldman compositions live.
According to the program note by Marcus, one of the intentions of including these two particular pieces was to showcase the range of Feldman’s composition for piano. Where “Piano” deals with extremes – in register (or pitch) and in dynamics (or volume) – “For Bunita Marcus” stays in the middle and high registers, and relatively soft. The notes follow each other slowly, and hang in the air. Feldman’s interest in the decay of the sound itself is very apparent in this piece, whereas in “Piano”, there were more sudden stops, quick turns, a feeling of angularity. In “For Bunita Marcus”, the sounds floated about, slowly interacting. I could see why composers such as Young and Niblock, so intensely devoted to long tones and the interactions of sounds themselves, would be moved by this piece.
“For Bunita Marcus” ended to thunderous applause and a standing ovation. It seemed a little odd to have such a delicate, quiet piece end with such loud noise. I wonder what La Monte Young thought of this – at his performances, applause is strictly forbidden. I used to think this was an eccentric quirk, but now I think I get it.
After the applause died down, Bunita Marcus announced the reception on the upper floor. Unfortunately, I was not able to go to the reception after the show. If anyone was able to go, please comment below – I would love to hear what happened.
Both “Piano” and “For Bunita Marcus” were flawlessly performed, as one would expect from Takahashi, who has been playing Feldman’s music for over a quarter century. While I enjoyed the extremes of “Piano”, I loved the performance of “For Bunita Marcus”. In La Monte Young’s words–overheard as he addressed Bunita Marcus after the show, “That was a beautiful piece you inspired.”
Keys to the Future is an annual festival of contemporary music for solo piano here in New York City. This year’s event will take place November 7-9 (Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday) at Greenwich House’s Renee Weiler Concert Hall. If you’re interested in checking out pertinent information, the website is http://www.keystothefuture.org/ or you can contact me directly at joe@keystothefuture.org.
The six pianists participating this year are: Lisa Moore, Blair McMillen, Tatjana Rankovich, Lora Tchekoratova, Polly Ferman, and myself. I thought I’d talk briefly here about the Festival and then focus on one piece from each of the three programs.
My goal as Artistic Director of Keys is to get listeners up to speed on what’s been happening in recent years with solo piano music. This season, the Festival has opened up a bit to include a handful of pieces from the 1970s and 80s. Keys to the Future has embraced the stylistic diversity of the contemporary scene, and you will hear pieces on the same evening of a type that are rarely if ever performed on the same program (for example, a short work by Berio followed by an arrangement of a Radiohead tune on 11/8).
Here’s a look at three of the pieces:
On the first night (Tuesday, 11/7), the brilliant pianist Lisa Moore will perform Henri Dutilleux’s Le Jeu des Contraires (Prelude No. 3) (1989). Here are some notes on the work by Etienne Moreau:
“The piano has been—and continues to be, at age 90—a source of inspiration to Dutilleux, his piano works providing a significant key to the evolution of his aesthetic beliefs. The possibilities in terms of sound offered by its harmonic richness and the diversity of its timbres attract Dutilleux to the instrument.
In Le Jeu the composer has concentrated all his harmonic, rhythmic and acoustic ability, displaying a remarkable mastery of ‘mirror’ writing. This piece seems to represent the very culmination of the musical and sound world of Henri Dutilleux, exemplifying the merging of intelligence and instinct inherent in all his compositions.”
On the second evening (Wednesday, 11/8), I will perform Arvo Pärt’s “Für Alina.”
Pärt composed “Für Alina” in 1976, and this little piece announced – quietly, thoughtfully – the arrival of his “tintinnabuli style.” The music is reminiscent of ringing bells, hence the name. Tintinnabuli works are rhythmically simple, and do not change tempo. It was written originally as a gift for an Estonian girl on her own in London.
On the third evening (Thursday, 11/9), virtuoso Tatjana Rankovich will play Bruce Stark’s “Winged.” Here are some comments on the work by the composer:
“The notion of angels has been a source of musical inspiration to me for years. Often the mere thought of other-worldly, high-energy beings in unseen dimensions brings forth a rush of ideas, as though they were eager to share their cosmic music if only I would turn them a listening ear. Winged is in one movement containing essentially two parts. The first and largest part represents a visitation by angels from invisible worlds, depicted in materials ranging from swirling figures to gentle melodic passages to ecstatic outpourings. After their disappearance, the last part (introduced by a low drone in the bass) represents a reminiscence from the human perspective on having witnessed these wondrous creatures. Here I quote the famous Christmas song Angels We Have Heard On High in fragments, with a slight reference to its “Gloria” section as the work closes.”
I hope you come to one or more of the evenings. It should be fun. Please take a look on Sequenza21.com next Friday for my third and final post.
Hey Folks —
Don’t know how we managed to scoop the Times on this one. But here’s an interview with violinist Jeffrey Phillips, who’s doing many honors on next month’s Sequenza21 concert. The interview has to do with a certain set of violin solos by a composer who will be familiar to those who wander these parts. Enjoy!
Q. You’re going to be giving the U.S. premiere of two works for solo violin by Tom Myron on the first-ever Sequenza21 Concert. Are they hard?
A. “They are as difficult as one would expect two pieces that were written for Peter Sheppard-Skaerved and having their U.S. premiere to be. (That means yes.)”
Q. New Music types are obsessed with questions of style and influence. What style does Tom Myron write in. Is he a post-minimalist or a post-modernist or what? Style-wise is he ripping anyone off?
A. “I don’t know what kind of –ist(s) Tom or his music are, but it does seem as if he’s ripped off pretty much everyone including the poor guy at the 7-11 down the street. I guess those New Music types will just have to come to the concert and find out for themselves what –ist(s) Tom and his music are. I know I’m gonna.”
Q. According to the composer one of the pieces takes its inspiration from a poem by Ted Hughes and the other from a drawing by an 18th century German woman naturalist working in the Caribbean. Can you tell this just by playing them? Which is which?
A. “No, I can’t tell which is which just by playing them. Tom even told me which one was inspired by a poem by Ted Hughes and which one was inspired by Maria Sibylla Merian’s “A Surinam caiman fighting a South American false coral snake” and I still can’t keep them straight. I have caimans fighting poems and a snake arranged as a haiku stuck in my head.”
Q. Does it psych you out to be giving the U.S. premieres of two pieces that have been played all over the world by Naxos recording artist and violin god Peter Sheppard-Skaerved?
A. “Yes, of course, there is a little psyching out going on. Peter Sheppard-Skaerved has given the premieres of these two pieces (and numerous others) all over the world. Except in the U.S. That’s me.”
Q. Is Jeffrey Phillips a violin god?
A. “In the omnipotent/omnipresent sense, no. In the Greek sense, yes.”
Classical Music, Composers, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, Music Events, S21 Concert
Third installment of a series of Composer Perspectives previewing the November 20th Sequenza21 Concert.
First of all, many thanks to all the people doing the behind-the-scenes work to make the upcoming Sequenza21 concert happen. It’s a daunting task, bringing all of these disparate voices together. I wonder if concertgoers don’t routinely underestimate the headaches that are hidden behind any successful performance.
I’m very curious to hear the music on this concert, having come to know all of the composers a bit online and not at all in person. But I’m uncertain which pieces I will actually be sitting in the audience for. At some point in the evening, I will be on the stage, performing in the premiere of Singing silver with the International Contemporary Ensemble (ICE).
Scored for narrator, soprano, horn, cello and guitar, Singing silver is my latest attempt to combine words and music in a way that fully satisfies the needs of each. The narrator (me) speaks most of the text, with phrases spinning freely off of specific beats in the score. The soprano (Tony Arnold) echoes some of the text, but more often blends wordlessly with the instruments, acting as a connective sinew between the muscle of poetry and the bone of music.
Similarly, the words of Singing silver are the tissue that connects the person I’ve become with the child I once was. We all have rites of passage; mine took place in an autumn dusk, walking home from school, stepping into a busy street for God knows what reason.
Here is the text:
I was crossing the road on an autumn afternoon when a spark in the pavement caught my eye,
sun low in the sky.
I dropped to the ground on one red knee and peered into the black and gold,
as the day grew old.
Sixteen thousand jewels I found shattering the autumn light,
while the air prepared to greet the night.
Sixteen thousand diamonds calling colors to the sky
Sixteen thousand stars and crowns astounding to the eye
But I knew the ones you’d love.
I will bring them home to show to you.
I will bring them home to give to you.
I will bring them home.
I was crossing the road on an autumn afternoon when a lonely tone caught my ear,
a careful keening, strangely near.
I stopped and listened to the sky, sun angled to my right,
clutching at the night.
Sixteen thousand sounds I found shattering the autumn air,
as the day rolled over in bewildered prayer.
Sixteen thousand fragments tumbling through the atmosphere
Sixteen thousand jangled dreams rebounding in the ear
But I knew the ones you’d love.
I will bring them home to show to you.
I will bring them home to give to you.
I will bring them home.
I was crossing the road on an autumn afternoon when a flash of metal spun me round,
and up off the ground.
I thrust my arms out left and right, sun darting under me,
fleeing westerly.
And then I saw him, sitting near, laughing gently at the blurring cars
Singing silver in my ear, like sixteen thousand dangled stars.
Sixteen thousand silent smiles shining in the mist
Sixteen thousand aspirations dancing in his fist.
And I knew that he would love you.
Come home with me, I have someone to show you.
Come home with me, I have someone to give you
Come home.
An awesome recording of Frederic Rzewski’s “Coming Together” in a live performance by the Crash Ensemble with Gavin Friday. Picked up directly from Rzewski himself in Kansas City by Scott Unrein. Not available commercially. Rzewski says it’s his favorite recording of the work.
And you can listen to it, or download it, here.
Update: I cheated and fixed the spelling of Fred’s name. Be sure to check the Workspace for a new commissioning prize.
Kalevi Aho, Lowell Liebermann, Áskell Másson, Þorsteinn Hauksson, Haraldur Sveinbjörnsson, Eiríkur Árni Sigtryggsson, Þorkell Sigurbjörnsson, Atli Heimir Sveinsson, Atli Heimir Sveinsson, Björk, the Sugarcubes, Quarashi, Sigur Rós, Minus, Olga Bochihina, Caspar Johannes Walter, Nicolaus Richter de Vroe, Michael Hirsch, Juliane Klein, Vladimir Nikolaev, Moritz Eggert (photo above), and Iraida Yusupova are just some of the contemporary composers from around the globe who have featured On An Overgrown Path during the last week.
New music comes in out of the cold in Iceland highlighted the flourishing new music scene in that remarkable country while A Who’s Who of contemporary composers featured a recently released CD of eight new compositions by German and Russian composers for that most bizarre of instruments, the theremin, and that article prompted a response from Germany from one of the featured composers who explained why Contemporary composers must never be bored. There was even a cautionary tale featuring a well known English composer about how not to compose new music, and, if you can handle it, an insight into the musical tastes of Bill Gates.
The always reliable Pliable tells me that Charles Griffin’s Sequenza21 blog From the Faraway Nearby: An American Composer in Latvia was chosen blog of the week (or some such) by no less than The Times in London. He couldn’t find a Times link online and neither can I but if someone comes across it, pass it along. Maybe this will encourage Charles to do a second post.
My copy of the Gramophone Awards 2006 arrived by post this week and I was somewhat bemused to discover that my local radio station, WQXR – The Classical Station of the New York Times, has now created (at considerable marketing expense, I expect) a sub-category called The 96.3 WQXR Gramophone Awards 2006, selected by a committee of worthies like Frank J. Oteri, Alex Ross, Greg Sandow, a couple of guys from Gramophone, and “members of the Programming Department of WQXR.”
The winners are all highly commendable, if a little predictable–Peter Lieberson’s Rilke Songs on Bridge; Osvaldo Golijov’s Ayre on DG, and Steve Reich’s You Are (Variations) on Nonesuch. There was also a special recognition award for Mark Morris.
My question for the distinguished panel is this: Have “members of the Programming Department of WQXR” ever scheduled any of the winning CDs to actually be played–in whole, or in part–on the station? Frankly, I doubt it, with the possible exception of the Lieberson which they might have played late at night or on weekends when they thought nobody was listening. Here’s a typical playlist.
Anybody want to be the main Sequenza21 New York reviewer of live concerts? We can get a couple of free tickets to most concerts here in town but so far finding someone (or two) who wants to cover new music in New York the way Jerry Zinser does Los Angeles, has been difficult.
For example, I’d love to have a marthon blogger who could go to all three nights of Joe Rubinstein’s Keys to the Future Festival of contemporary piano music and write about each of the concerts and give us a sense of what’s new and exciting in new piano works. No money now, but if you’re really good at it, who knows?
Speaking of someone who is really good, I just noticed that Steve Smith is now doing some concert and CD reviews for the New York Times. (Maybe, he’s been doing it for awhile but I just noticed). Nice work, Steve.