Concert review

Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Garlands for Steven Stucky in Santa Monica

The Soundwaves new music series and Piano Spheres teamed up to present Garlands for Steven Stucky, a concert of piano music performed by Gloria Cheng. Steven Stucky was a long-time composer in residence at the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and his untimely death in 2016 touched his many friends here deeply. Garlands for Steven Stucky is a memorial tribute in the form of a CD album of short piano pieces contributed by no less than 32 students and musical colleagues. Each piece is short – just two or three minutes – and this concert at the Santa Monica Public Library offered a preview prior to a full concert scheduled for Zipper Hall on November 27.

A short video was shown prior to the concert describing Stucky’s academic career and residency at the LA Phil. Esa-Pekka Salonen and Deborah Borda spoke highly of his accomplishments and the warm personal connections he enjoyed with his colleagues. The video also outlined the Steven Stucky Composer Fellowship Fund, intended to help composition students who are just beginning their study. Proceeds from the Garlands for Steven Stucky CD will benefit this fund.

Gloria Cheng then introduced the music of Steven Stucky by way of playing movement 1 of Album Leaves (2002), a series short piano pieces he described as “ … in the nineteenth-century mold of Schumann, Chopin, or Brahms.” This opened with a simple five-note melody that seemed to hang mysteriously in the air, followed by more complex passages that fluttered like a flock of restless birds. A series of darker, enigmatic passages in the lower register added to the magical atmosphere just prior to a quiet ending. This short piece set the tone for the sampler of musical memorials that comprised the balance of the concert.

Two former students of Steven Stucky, now UCLA Music Dept faculty and in attendance, were asked to describe his influence as well as their contributions to the album. Kay Rhie, a student of Stucky while at Cornell, spoke of his generosity, curiosity and wide-ranging interests outside the arts. Ms. Cheng played Rhie’s Interlude, which bore some resemblance to the Album Leaves piece, sharing its subdued and enigmatic character. David S. Lefkowitz described his piece, In Memorium, as a soggetto cavato – or carved signature – using the letters in Steven Stucky’s name to determine the opening notes. This resulted in a simple, declarative melody of strong notes that seemed freighted with sorrow. Complex variations followed in the lower registers, which turned dramatic prior to the repeat of the opening melody, and a quiet fade-out. Both pieces were suffused with veneration and genuine affection.

Esa-Pekka Salonen contributed Iscrizione and this opened with a spare line of single notes that unfolded into more complex passages, tinged with a sense of anguish and loss. A deep rumble in the bottom registers added a sense of sadness, followed by a quietly moving farewell at the finish. Capriccio by Julian Anderson followed, and Ms. Cheng explained that Anderson’s intention was simply to write something that Steven Stucky might have enjoyed. Accordingly, this piece was more optimistic with light, rapid strings of notes that bubbled upward. Skittering sounds followed, both charming and delightful, as if a mouse was scampering about on the keyboard. The dynamics and tempo increased until a dramatic crash of chords at the finish slowly dissipated into the air.

Four other piano pieces were performed by Ms. Cheng to close out the concert. Steven Mackey contributed A Few Things (in memory of Steve), a lighthearted interchange between quick, bright phrases as if holding a conversation with pleasant company. Inscription, by Pierre Jalbert followed with complex and fast passage work, a fond remembrance of the Stucky wit. Judith Weir’s Chorale, for Steve was perhaps the closest to church music, full of airy introspection at the opening and ending with the power and simplicity of a simple hymn. The final piece was Glas by Daniel S. Godfrey, opening with great booming chords that brought to mind cathedral bells, then continuing with a series of quietly thoughtful stretches full of grandeur and grace.  Glas was the perfect piece to close out the concert.

Garlands for Steven Stucky is a powerful testimony to the esteem and affection held for Steven Stucky by all those who contributed to this remarkable album. Ms. Cheng has done a great service to organize and flawlessly perform all 32 works for the CD. This preview concert was an opportunity to appreciate how much Steven Stucky has meant to our musical community and how much he will be missed.

Garlands for Steven Stucky is available from Amazon and iTunes.

 

by Paul Muller
Choral Music, Concert review, early music, File Under?

Stile Antico at St. Mary’s (concert review)

Stile Antico
Photo: Marco Borggreve

Stile Antico in Concert

October 13, 2018 Church of St. Mary the Virgin

By Christian Carey

 

NEW YORK – The first concert in Miller Theatre’s 2018-19 Early Music Series, given in midtown at the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, presented the acclaimed choral group Stile Antico from the UK. They have made regular appearances on the Miller series. As is their custom, Stile Antico sang without a conductor in a semicircle facing front. The occasional setup change consists of singers changing formation and, in pieces in which the full ensemble isn’t required, “extra” singers sit down.

 

They sing vibrantly and expressively with a sumptuous sound. The concert program, titled “Elizabeth I, Queen of Muses,” brought together masterworks of Tudor era polyphony and continental repertoire that had passed through the monarch’s orbit. Several of the latter group of works were taken from a gift from one of the Queen’s suitors, Erik XIV of Sweden: a partbook that included pieces by Lassus, Willaert, and Sandrin. The latter’s chanson Doulce Memoire was particularly fetching, performed with gentle grace. The group also sang three solemn and stolid penitential psalm settings by Alfonso Ferrabosco the Elder, an Italian composer who was a member of the Elizabeth’s court, paid a handsome salary for music and, some say, espionage.

 

English music formed the bulk of the program. It included a piece from early in the sixteenth century, Tavener’s  Christe Jesu Bone Pastor, filled with brightly articulate slices of homophony and soaring passages of imitation. From the other end of the chronological spectrum, early in the seventeenth century, Stile Antico offered jaunty renditions of two of John Dowland’s best known ayres: “Now, O now I needs must part” and “Can She Excuse my Wrongs.”

 

The choir is one of the best on the planet for works by Tallis and Byrd. Several of these were performed, capturing a gamut of emotions. Byrd’s “This sweet and merry month of May” is a jubilant madrigal greeting to Elizabeth, while his Attolite porta is a richly attired setting of Psalm 23. “O Lord Make thy servant Elizabeth” is an extraordinary piece, and Stile Antico rendered its elaborate Amen cadence with fulsome power and beauty. Ne irascaris is another facet of Byrd’s art. A recusant Catholic, he composed a collection of motets with texts both coded and charged with defiance. Clearly Byrd was graced with Elizabeth’s favor, otherwise he would have been unlikely to get away with daring pieces like Ne irascaris. The Tallis selection on the program was his worshipful, declamatory Abserge Domine. I could have done with three more Tudor motets and no Ferrabosco, but that’s quibbling.

 

The concert concluded with a group of madrigals written in honor of Elizabeth, taken from “The Triumphs of Oriana,” a collection of 25 madrigals by 23 composers. After sterling renderings of “The lady Oriana” by John Wilbye (Oriana is a poetic title for Elizabeth) and “Fair Nymphs I heard one telling, the last, “As Vesta was, from Latmos hill descending,” by Thomas Weelkes, displayed the group’s vocal prowess at its finest, with high-ranging lines and overlapping melismatic passages converging to thrilling effect. Stile Antico’s annual visits to New York could easily be double or trebled: they have developed a strong following here and the reasons for this were amply demonstrated on 13 October at St. Mary’s.

 

  • Christian Carey writes regularly for Tempo, Musical America, and Sequenza 21.
by Christian Carey
Chamber Music, Classical Music, Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Seattle

Abrahamsen’s Schnee at Seattle Symphony’s [untitled]

Thomas Dausgaard conducting members of Seattle Symphony in Abrahamsen: Schnee (photo: James Holt/Seattle Symphony)

[untitled] is the moniker given by Seattle Symphony to its thrice-annual Friday night new music events. Staged in the lobby of Benaroya Hall, it’s a semi-formal atmosphere in which the Symphony can deploy its musicians in smaller groupings better suited to the exigencies of postmodern music. The first [untitled] concert of the new season took place on October 12, and featured the regional premiere of Hans Abrahamsen’s Schnee, offering listeners in the Pacific Northwest an opportunity to judge how well this work has earned the considerable attention it has received in its brief ten-year lifetime.

Scored for two piano quartets (one conventional, the other with woodwinds instead of strings) flanking a central percussionist, this hour-long piece is officially a chain of ten canons conceived in pairs. But don’t bother looking for Row, Row, Row Your Boat-style rounds. Abrahamsen’s vision of musical canons ranges from relatively straightforward imitation between two voices in stretto…

From Canon 2b (other instruments omitted)

…to rhythm-only canons, to cases where the only trace of a traditional canon is the successive entries of similar lines:

(click to enlarge)

It’s probably easiest to think of the canons as a set of ten segued movements in which each instrumental group stays within a tight-knit band of musical material. An important structural characteristic of the piece is that these canons get progressively shorter, starting with 8–9 minutes allotted to the distended Canons 1a and 1b, and ending with the fleeting Canons 5a and 5b, lasting a minute apiece (audio links and the YouTube embed above are from the work’s only commercial recording, by ensemble recherche).

Accompanying this process of diminution is a corresponding process of detuning where the string instruments, then the woodwinds, shift their intonation downwards by 1/6 and 1/3 tones so that they gradually go out of tune with the pianos. Mikhail Shmidt, violinist for the [untitled] performance, likens the effect to melting. Such a reliance on “dirty” intonational clashs—most prominent in Canons 5a/5b—reflects the influence of Abrahamsen’s teacher, Ligeti. In a particularly imaginative stroke, three Interludes are inserted as composed tuning breaks to allow the musicians to effect the retuning without a break:

Ritual orchestral tuning is often satirized, and audiences will occasionally mistake tuning for an actual piece, but there is little precedent for written-out retuning occurring in the middle of a composition.

Schnee of course means snow in German (curiously favored by this Danish teutophile over his native sne), and this hour-long work is a suitably frosty and brittle affair. It begins and ends in the extreme treble register, and its overall sound world is dominated by white noise effects suggested by the title’s initial consonant. The score calls for scratchy bow noises, the application of Blu Tack to muffle piano strings, and frequent “half-breath” effects on the woodwind instruments (which in the case of the contralto flute and bass clarinet seem to have been specifically chosen for their breathy quality). The percussionist’s job mainly alternates between rubbing writing paper on a smooth surface and rubbing wax paper on a rough surface, the task broken up only by the use of sleigh bells in Canons 4a/4b and a single tamtam stroke at the end of Canon 3b. Other noise effects show the influence of Lachenmann, most notably his piece Guero, whose technique of gliding fingernails across the piano keyboards is directly borrowed in Schnee.

The very first canon fulfils the evocative trajectory of the title, beginning on a repeated violin harmonic on an A♮ that’s so high, you mainly hear bowing noise (the score says “like an icy whisper”, though North American listeners might find it inadvertently reminiscent of a certain cinematic shower scene). Pentatonic white note tinkerings in the 1st Piano’s top octave soon enter (E-A-F-D-E is a prominent pattern), and one might wonder if this will be a characteristically long and static exposition of European postminimalism. But the complexity increases as the canons proceed, reaching an apogee in the third canon pair where the harmonies are atonal, the rhythms unmetered, and the pitch range fully extended to the bass register (intensified by tuning the cello’s lowest string from C down to G). The process then reverses in the last two canon pairs, and we eventually revert to the white note pentatonicism of the opening. It’s the simultaneous revelation of both arch-like vectors (range and complexity) and straight-line vectors (length and detuning) as the work progresses that gives Schnee such dramatic impact.

The influence of Feldman is often close at hand in Abrahamsen’s music, and it’s quite obvious in Schnee’s Canon 3b. But a different parallel can be found with Feldman’s Three Voices, a unique and uncharacteristically texted and beat-driven work from 1982 that in its repetitions, quirky metricality, overall length and architecture based on concurrent unfolding of both linear and arch-shaped processes, is a tantalizing predecessor to Schnee. It even features as its sole lyric this most apropos poetic snippet by Frank O’Hara:

                      Who’d have thought
                                                                         that snow falls

Schnee is the kind of piece that can die in a too-dry space, but [untitled]’s idiosyncratic venue is just live enough to avoid this pitfall. Being designed as an entry and reception point rather than as a performance space though, it does come at the cost of an omnipresent background rumble from the building’s HVAC system. This often overwhelmed the subtle piano resonance effects and smeared the rhythmic definition of the percussionist’s paper shuffling (both prominent in Canon 3b). But the piece would have gotten lost in either of the two conventional concert spaces at Benaroya Hall, and the capable ensemble, drawn from regular Seattle Symphony musicians with frequent adjuncts Cristina Valdés and Oksana Ezhokina handling the piano parts, managed to traverse the work’s rhythmic complexities with no trace of strain or sloppiness.

They also did something perhaps more remarkable: avoiding the temptation, especially in the excitement of live performance, to play this music too loudly, too quickly and too brashly. Abrahamsen’s bleak snowscapes, like Varèse’s deserts, are those of the mind as much as of nature. What this piece needs is not so much the brisk extroversion of Ludovic Morlot, but a healthy dose of Scandinavian reserve, which it received under the conducting of Thomas Dausgaard, who will assume Morlot’s role as Music Director next season. In this performance, the first of this piece for any of the evening’s musicians (including Dausgaard), we perhaps have a glimpse of the direction that the Symphony’s programming will take under Dausgaard’s leadership.

Hans Abrahamsen (photo: Lars Skaaning)

Abrahamsen, born in 1952, presents an unusual musical example of a late career breakthrough. He started out as a Danish representative of New Simplicity, but much of his music from that period now seems rather…simplistic. After a Schoenbergian decade of relative silence, Abrahamsen reemerged with a more synthetic style that elevated his international profile to the degree that he can now be reasonably considered the most prominent living Danish composer other than the venerable Per Nørgård (1932–).

The best survey of Abrahamsen’s career arc is the Arditti Quartet’s recording of his String Quartets 1–4, whose dates range from 1973 to 2012 (this album was one of my favorites of 2017). His recent hits include some orchestral songs for Barbara Hannigan and a concerto for piano left hand, but these works seem less distinguished to me measured against the formidable European corpus of modernist orchestral music. It’s Schnee, completed in 2008, that continues to stand as Abrahamsen’s masterpiece, comparable in scope and ambition to Haas’ In Vain, and likewise exemplifying the alloy of exploration and consolidation that characterizes the most accomplished of contemporary European art music. Its reputation as one of the classics of the young 21st century (advanced by the likes of Paul Griffiths, who chose it to conclude the current version of his book Modern Music and After), was given powerful witness by Dausgaard and the Seattle Symphony musicians.

The score to Schnee is available online here.

by Michael Schell
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Women composers

wasteLAnd Opens Season Six in Los Angeles

Season six of the wasteLAnd new music concert series began on Friday, October 5, 2018 at Art Share LA in downtown Los Angeles. Katherine Young is the featured composer this season and her work was front and center in a program consisting of three of her pieces, including a world premiere. Ms. Young stated in the liner notes that “…each of these pieces to different degrees and in different ways blur out of linear ‘musical’ forms and into sonic meditations through the use of drone, saturating textures, and/or spatialization.” The ample Art Share space was filled to capacity with an expectant audience, despite the brutal Friday night traffic.

Ms. Young’s first piece was Earhart & the Queen of Spades, performed by Nicholas Deyoe on electric guitar. Deyoe was surrounded by an imposing array of foot pedals, cables, assorted amplifiers and a table full of found objects, including several small personal fans. As the piece began, Deyoe switched on the fans and when they were held near the guitar pickup, a soft, thin whine could be detected. The flexible rotating fan blades were next applied directly to the guitar strings and this produced a powerful roaring, much like a motorcycle revving up. These sounds were looped, processed and piled one on another until a great sonic mountain seemed to fill the performance space. A steel slide was used on the strings to change the pitch of the roaring, and Deyoe’s deft control of the intonation was notable. All of this proceeded without a steady pulse or beat as more objects were applied to the guitar. A broad plastic card produced some especially powerful riffs and a pearl necklace was pulled across the guitar strings, yielding a series of distinctively ragged pulses. The wide variety of sounds was unexpected and surprisingly intense; Deyoe was all over the instrument and his feet were in constant motion pressing foot pedals with a masterful choreography. Earhart & the Queen of Spades ended quietly with a return to the buzzing fan blades held just off the guitar pickup, and switched off one by one. Cheering and a loud ovation ensued for a fine performance.

Underworld (Dancing) followed, and this featured Matt Barbier on euphonium and Wells Leng playing a rare Wurlitzer on loan from Tim Clark. Underworld (Dancing) began with a series of long, mournful growls in the euphonium accompanied by soft tones in the Wurlitzer. The extremely low register was expertly negotiated by Barbier, especially given that the piece was originally scored for tuba. The two parts were mostly unconnected, allowing for ample improvisational freedom, and the result was an intriguing mixture of timbres and tones. At times the Wurlitzer broke into brief snatches of melody that approximated a dance tune while the deep rumbling in the euphonium provided a solid, visceral punch. The low, dark tones suggested a large, powerful animal and the Fafnir dragon leitmotif from Wagner’s Ring Cycle came briefly to mind. Underworld (Dancing) conjured much imagery from just two instruments, and evoked a convincingly exotic world in sound.

After the intermission the concert concluded with the world premiere of Biomes 1.0. Matt Barbier returned with his euphonium,  accompanied by Weston Olencki on trombone. The composer also joined in, playing bassoon. The piece involved a full compliment of electronics and lights so that the stage was covered with various boxes, keyboards and tangles of cable. Biomes 1.0 began with a loud rushing sound in the electronics and bright lights flooding the performance space. The instruments produced clusters of uninhibited grunts and growls, adding to a dynamic atmosphere, as if deep in a forest habitat. The lights were suddenly extinguished, and as the space plunged into darkness,  soft tones floated quietly out of the euphonium and electronics. This understated feel made for a stark contrast with the first section and suggested an almost liquid environment. The deep, languid sounds were perfectly realized in the low registers of each instrument. The lights returned, accompanied by more electronic scratching sounds, along with some amazing tones from the horns. As the piece proceeded, the stage was alternately lit and darkened and the sounds changed accordingly. At one point, colored lights pulsed separately in each corner of the stage. In another section, a chain was slowly lowered on to a snare drum head, adding an intriguingly subtle percussive element. Perhaps the most impressive stretches consisted of long, low tones coming from the horns and bassoon. Ms. Young has a fine sense of what works in these lower ranges – each part was well-placed and balanced nicely against the electronics. There were some beautiful mixtures and timbres heard, also a credit to the solid sense of ensemble. A long, low crescendo followed by a soft fade-away concluded the piece. Biomes 1.0 is an impressive composition of lights, electronics and instruments that captivates with beauty and by the masterful use of the very lowest tones. A long and enthusiastic ovation followed.

The fund raising efforts at wasteLAnd have proven successful enough to make admission to the first three concerts of the new season free of charge. Their goal is to extend this for the balance of the season and those willing to donate are encouraged to contact them via their website.

The next wasteLAnd concert at Art Share LA will be on November 16, 2018 and will feature Ashley Walters and the Arperture Duo.

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

wild Up in Santa Barbara

The Santa Barbara Museum of Art hosted the violin section of wild Up on Thursday, September 27, 2018, for a concert of new music titled Gradient. A good crowd materialized, despite the fact that the outside of the museum was cloaked in scaffolding and fencing for an extensive renovation. The Davidson Gallery was the venue, and this space also contained TV Clock, the video installation by Nam June Paik, inspiring wild Up violinist Andrew McIntosh to program four innovative contemporary works.

During the museum’s renovation, ensuring the building was safe and free from any environmental hazards was crucial. This included finding a mold removal company to address any potential mold issues that might arise during the construction process. Ensuring a clean and healthy environment was a top priority to protect both the artwork and the visitors.

The first piece on the program was Situation IV, a solo violin piece by Anahita Abbasi. This was performed by McIntosh, who explained that his violin was prepared by applying putty to the strings, as specified in the score. This seemingly minor modification completely changed the sound of the instrument. The notes that resulted from the initial bowing of the strings were almost percussive in character. Sustained arco bowing yielded distinctively rugged tones that included a high, scratchy component, while softer tones had a thin, mysterious feel. There were an amazing variety of sounds produced as the piece proceeded, and a short pizzicato stretch sounded a bit like distant gunshots. The overall feeling was often remote and alien, at least in part because of the unusual timbres that were heard – the typically dramatic and lushly familiar violin tones were completely absent. Situation IV is a striking example of how a small, simple change to the structure of an instrument can yield completely unexpected sounds and colors.

McIntosh was joined by violinists Lina Bahn, Adrianne Pope and Nigel Deane for the second piece, Violin Phase, by Steve Reich. One of the bedrock works of classical minimalism, Violin Phase explores the musical implications of a series of similar phrases played at slightly different tempi. One of the violinists wore an ear piece with a click track to keep the reference time, while the others adjusted their tempi slightly as they entered in a sort of layering and looping process. The result is that the violins slowly go in and out of sync with each other, and these interactions – plus a strong rhythmic component – produce surprisingly alluring music. It was a treat to hear this piece in such close proximity to the performers; most of the videos and recordings of Violin Phase take place in cavernous concert halls. The detail and surface textures audible in this space were superb, even allowing for the somewhat reverberant character of the gallery. The crisp tempo, catchy melody and the intricate weaving of the parts as they phased in and out worked their magic on the audience, who were clearly enjoying the groove.

Gradient, by Tashi Wada followed and here the video installation TV Clock assumed a prominent role. TV Clock is a series of 24 identical color video monitors mounted on pedestals and arranged in a shallow arc across the gallery space. Each monitor displayed a single straight line. The line on the first monitor was vertical and subsequent monitors had their lines posed at incremental angles such that the line was rotated through 360 degrees by the 24th monitor in the series. Two large speakers were located at each end of TV Clock. As the gallery space darkened, each speaker sounded a separate tone – one pitched at C and the other at a lower G – a fourth apart. The sound seemed pleasantly benign, if somewhat remote, but with the close listening promoted by the darkness, it soon became apparent that small variations were occurring between tones, and this added a sense of mystery. It was only after some focused listening that Andrew McIntosh was spotted making his way in the darkened space between speakers. He had begun by playing C on his violin, starting at the first speaker, and slowly lowered the pitch as he walked towards the far speaker, sounding the G. The almost imperceptible changes in the mix of pitches resulted in a particularly engaging sound, and even this small human input was enough to make an audible difference. McIntosh’s sense of pitch gradation was impressive as the piece took several minutes to complete. The 24 monitors of the TV Clock installation guided the rate at which he lowered his tone, making a perfect visual connection to the music. Gradient and TV Clock seemed made for each other and represent a fine example of how sometimes the simplest experimental ideas are the most compelling.

The final work on the program was Eight Whisk-us, by John Cage. One of Cage’s later works and based on poetry by Chris Mann, this piece has two versions: one for voice and, for this performance, one for solo violin. According to the liner notes by Nick Wilson for the original CD release, the music is arranged “…such that the vowel and consonant qualities of the poem are transformed into various bowing positions, gradations of bowing pressure, and forms of articulation…” With the space still darkened from the preceding piece, McIntosh began Eight Whisk-us with a short opening phrase that was high and thin in pitch, elusive and almost vaporous in texture. More thin and ghost-like tones followed, quietly floating through the Davidson Gallery. There were slight pauses between sections of ‘text’ as the piece proceeded, all very subdued. When the violin was played in its middle registers, the sound became more substantial and familiar, but there was never anything loud or dramatic. The darkness again invited close listening of this intriguing music, convincingly Feldman-like in its reticence.

A loud ovation followed and was sustained as the other musicians joined McIntosh for the final bows.

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

The Music of Juan Pablo Contreras at USC

On Saturday, September 15, 2018, at the Newman Recital Hall in the heart of USC, the music of Juan Pablo Contreras was heard in a concert titled The Sounds of Mexico. The occasion was his final DMA recital, and only a few empty seats could be seen in the spacious hall on a sunny summer afternoon. The concert was presented jointly by the USC Thornton School of Music and the Consulate General of Mexico in Los Angeles. Juan Pablo Contreras is already one of the most prominent young composers in Latin America. His music has been widely performed by major musical institutions including the National Symphony Orchestra of Mexico, the Salta and Cόrdoba Symphonies in Argentina, the Mexico City Philharmonic, the Simόn Bolívar Orchestra of Venezuela and the Waco Symphony in Texas.

Juan Pablo Contreras combines the Western classical tradition with Mexican folk music. He has a keen interest in the diversity of Mexican culture and a demonstrated gift for orchestration. Much of his work involves chamber music as well as that for full orchestra, and while at USC Mr. Contreras studied with Andrew Norman. For this concert, however, the focus was on smaller musical forces – piano and cello, a string quartet and a quintet with woodwinds, strings and piano. The largest piece in the program was for a full chorus and piano, and this concert was an opportunity to listen for new levels of detail and design.

The program opened with Souvenirs (2018), a four-movement piece for piano and cello. Based on the composer’s extensive travels, Souvenirs captures the remembrances and experiences of living in several different cities. “New York” was first and this began with sharp pizzicato phrases in the cello that morphed into a jazzy blues. As the piece progressed, a moving piano line nicely recalled the syncopated sound of a lurching subway car. More blues followed, along with added complexity that evoked a strongly African spirituality. The composer’s time at the Manhattan School of Music clearly left a lasting impression. “Paris” followed, and the cello passages here turned smoothly elegant, especially in the lower registers. Lush harmonies and an expressive melody added to the romantic feel. A vivid cello solo by Benjamin Lash towards the finish was evidence of the composer’s command of lyricism and dynamics.

“Moscow” was next, and this had a rapid, rhythmic movement that gave this piece a slightly out-of-control feeling, especially in Alin Melik-Adamyan’s piano line. Intense and almost relentless, the tension seemed to be continually building until a sudden silence signaled the abrupt ending. The final movement was “Mexico City” and this began with a distinctly abstract feel that emanated from a complex surface texture, recalling the vibrant diversity of that city. As the piece continued it became increasingly upbeat and playfully familiar, before turning slower and nostalgically wistful. All of this was nicely captured in the composer’s characteristically mature style. A final crescendo and accelerando completed “Mexico City” – ending Souvenir with a rousing finish.

The second piece on the concert program, Voladores de Papantla (2017), was written for string quartet. The Voladores de Papantla, from the Veracruz region of Mexico, perform a spectacular folk ritual involving a 30 meter high pole. Five voladores dressed in colorful costumes climb to the top of the pole where four of them tie themselves to ropes, jump off backwards into space, and slowly twirl their way back down to earth. The fifth voladore remains on the top of the pole and presides with chants and prayers, playing a simple flute. This ancient observance is unforgettably dramatic and deeply significant to the Totonac peoples of the area.

The music for Voladores de Papantla is made up of seven sections that are played in succession with no pause, each describing a part of the Totonac ritual. The piece opens softly with a high, mysterious melody in violin I, which nicely recalls the flute invocation by voladore priest. The very high register in this passage was precisely played by Alexandros Petrin, whose careful intonation yielded a clear and steady tone. A sense of drama ensued as the voladores made their way up the pole. More thin notes were heard in the violin as the priest blessed the Voladores, about to hurl themselves into the air. A flurry of intense and complex passages followed, along with a feeling of tension and suspense as the voladores hurtled downward. After the descent, the priest plays a farewell and the warmer harmonies in the other strings carry a comforting feel. Voladores de Papantla is a well-crafted and heart-felt tribute to one of Mexico’s the great sacred traditions.

(more…)

by Paul Muller
Composers, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, Experimental Music, Seattle

A year without Matt Shoemaker (1974–2017)

Matt Shoemaker

One year ago the Pacific Northwest’s new music community was stunned by the suicide of Matt Shoemaker: painter and musician, enthusiastic traveler, frequent performer with Gamelan Pacifica, and accomplished creator in the genre of dark ambient. Shoemaker’s “electroacoustic soundscapes” have been released in a variety of formats by Elevator Bath, Helen Scarsdale Agency and other labels, and I offer an overview of this work in the Second Inversion article Mutable Depths: Remembering Matt Shoemaker. Shoemaker was a veteran of Seattle’s formidable electronic music scene, and he often performed his music at the Chapel Performance Space, the workhorse venue for experimental music in this city. It was there that an assembly of his colleagues, friends and admirers gathered on the night of May 5 to honor his memory.

Eric Lanzillotta opened the evening by coaxing deep, dense sonorities from a Moog MG-1 analog synthesizer. These gently modulated sounds were soon joined by filtered bands of pink noise, and then by low frequency sine wave glissandos. These latter often seemed to be amplitude modulated by a noise source to create an irregular tremolo, a time-honored technique for introducing complexity into the innately regular sonorities of electronic instruments. Lanzillotta often collaborated with Shoemaker, and the two can be heard jamming together in a 2005 session that has been released on Anomalous Records. An excerpt thereof is available on SoundCloud:

Jim Haynes took the stage next. This California-based musician and Helen Scarsdale Agency proprietor began by recounting the impact of encountering Shoemaker’s music for the first time (“Fuck, this guy is doing what I’m trying to do, only way better”). Next Haynes stepped up to his instrument table and brought in a major sixth drone that anchored the first several minutes of his set. Like Lanzillotta, Haynes exclusively used abstract, synthesized sounds—most notably a series of falling glissandos that swelled to an incredibly loud and thick climax before suddenly evaporating into one of those electronic “rattles” that evoke the world of Forbidden Planet-style sci-fi movie soundtracks.

I’d been curious about the half dozen 40W halogen bulbs scattered across Haynes’ setup until finally, ten minutes in, they started to illuminate, powered by the same pink noise source that was controlling the amplitude of his rumbling oscillators. A visual and aural crescendo ensued, the blinding effect of these irregularly flickering lamps inside the otherwise dark Chapel interior suggesting a campfire emerging from beyond the grave—a vast improvement over those tacky synchronized disco lights you see at popular concerts and clubs.

As he’d done before, Haynes suddenly cut the signal to the lamps and oscillators, leaving only a faint heartbeat-like pulse. After a few forlorn palpitations, the set ended. Of the evening’s offerings, it was Haynes’ music that reminded me the most of Shoemaker’s.

Matt Shoemaker’s LP Isolated Agent/Stranding Behavior ‎(Elevator Bath eeaoa031) featuring his original artwork

Up next was Climax Golden Twins, a Seattle-based experimental music band that has been active in various guises for 25 years, and whose configuration for the night comprised founders Robert Millis and Jeffrey Taylor along with Dave Knott and Jesse Paul Miller. The instrumentarium featured analog and digital synths, guitars, a hi-hat and an array of toys and other homemade contraptions. The music was free improv with the continuous transitions and generally slow tempos that are characteristic of that genre nowadays. The 20 minute set included the first concrete sounds of the evening: radio signals transduced through guitar pickups, sampled instruments and, most poignantly, excerpts from Shoemaker himself playing a Millis piano piece. These latter sounds, repetitive tinkerings on a C♯ minor triad of a kind I’d associate with Brian Eno or West Coast postminimalism, served to anchor the final five minutes of the set, which saw Knott walking through the space plucking this same chord on a ukulele as the piano excerpts played on, both forward and backward.

Knott remained onstage for a solo set that featured a half-sized bottleneck guitar with custom re-entrant tuning designed so that when the fingerboard is barred at the 9th fret, the strings can be played on either side. Its timbre reminded me of the spicy, transient-rich sounds of a Japanese biwa or samisen. The improvisation began in free rhythm, eventually taking on a steady pulse the way that a raga performance might progress from alap to jor. As the music grew more animated, Knott’s use of a sliding glass rod imparted a bit of Hawaiian inflection, and for the last few minutes Knott performed overtone singing over his now-steady strumming.

Miller returned to close out the event with a video featuring footage he shot in Indonesia, where Shoemaker had once spent several formative months. The multilayered imagery was conveyed in extremely fast cutting, sometimes combined with time lapse layers, and the montage was accompanied by synth drones mixed with field recordings (also from Indonesia). It was a suitable conclusion, and a reminder of the visual side of Shoemaker’s art (which was simultaneously on display in a memorial exhibit at Jack Straw New Media Gallery). All told, it was a substantive and beautiful evening of timbrally rich music befitting its dedicatee.

by Michael Schell
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Los Angeles

Open Source at Coaxial Arts

On June 19, 2018, Coaxial Arts was the venue for a program of noise, experimental music and sound. The snug downtown Los Angeles location filled up with a congenial crowd of the knowledgeable and the curious for a concert presented by the wulf titled Open Source: Anderson, Hutson, Shiroishi, Smith. An impressive array of cables, synthesizers, mixing boards, computers and radios was spread over several tables, including a large reel-to-reel tape loop. Casey Anderson, William Hutson, Stephanie Cheng Smith and Patrick Shiroishi were on hand to bring it all to life.

The evening began with Duo by Anderson and Smith, opening with Anderson’s signature use of an amplified transistor radio tuned to a local AM station. Electronic synthesizers joined in with beeps and squeals, projecting an exuberantly spacey feel. Ms. Smith added some scratching and scraping sounds from an amplified violin, inserting some tension. Casey Anderson then contributed a series of long, solemn tones on soprano saxophone and this seemed to bring a measure of stability to the strident electronic sounds that otherwise dominated. More radio stations were heard, contributing a sense of fuzzy normality. The piece seemed to swing back and forth between the swirling whirlpool of electronic sounds and the more familiar sounds of violin, saxophone and AM radio. At the finish, the electronics seemed to prevail by sheer power, even as a long mournful wail was heard from the soprano saxophone. Duo is an apt metaphor for modern life, pulled between the forces of chaos we cannot control and the refuge we gain by retreating into our own humanity.

Quartet followed the intermission, and for this all four players took their places. Ms. Smith continued with her violin and synthesizer, along with Anderson’s soprano sax, electronics and radio. The quartet was rounded out with Patrick Shiroishi playing alto and sopranino saxophones and William Hutson, who presided over a reel-to-reel tape recorder modified to move a large tape loop around two music stands placed several feet apart. Quartet was an expanded variant of Duo and began with the snatches of AM radio and a low humming from the electronics. There was a quietly mysterious sputter coming from the tape loop as well as more beeps and squawks from the synth. The alto and soprano saxes joined in, contributing a sustained warbling that was very effective and added a welcome human dimension to the otherwise exotic collection of electronic sounds.

As the piece proceeded, the saxophones increased their presence with a stimulating free form section that was very effective. The entry of the sopranino, with its very high register, often took on the character of the electronic sounds, especially in short, choppy passages. This made for an intriguingly  hybridized texture as Shiroishi repeatedly drove his saxophone into the pitch domain of the electronics. Quartet surged back and forth and when the electronics dominated, there was a sense of tension and stress. When the saxophones were stronger there was a more welcoming feel, and when the AM radio was played there were the sounds of the banal and the familiar. Quartet wandered freely from one pole to the other, challenging the listener to navigate the line between the anxious and the accustomed.

by Paul Muller
Composers, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, New York

Da Capo Players at Merkin Hall (Concert Review)

Da Capo Chamber Players Perform a Potpourri of American Works

Da Capo Chamber Players

Da Capo Chamber Players

Merkin Concert Hall

June 4, 2018

NEW YORK – Themed programs and portrait concerts are all the rage these days. As such, it is refreshing when an ensemble goes eclectic, presenting a diverse array of music. Such was the case on Monday, June 4th, when Da Capo Chamber Players performed eight pieces by living American composers who write in a plethora of styles. Consisting of violinist Curtis Macomber, cellist Chris Gross, flutist Patricia Spencer, pianist Steven Beck and joined by guest artists soprano Lucy Shelton, clarinetists Marianne Glythfeldt and Carlos Cordeiro, and percussionist Michael Lipsey, the musicians are a formidable cadre of some of New York’s best new music performers. This was handily demonstrated in all of the works on offer at Merkin — how often can you depend on that level of consistency?

Few groups perform the rhythmic patternings of minimalism more assuredly than the Da Capo Players. Here they clearly delineated the differences between various types of ostinatos. Sweet air (1999) by David Lang juxtaposed its repetitions with distressed dissonances, In the sole premiere on the program, Dylan Mattingly’s Ecstasy #3 (2018) presented passages filled with an alt-folk-inflected melody. An arrangement by Robert Moran of Philip Glass’s Modern Love Waltz (1980) may have explored repetition in the most straightforward way of the pieces here, but its fluid playfulness made it a fetching addition to the proceedings.

The modernist wing of composition was represented too. Elliott Carter’s Canon for Four (1984) received an incisive rendition, with the contrapuntal details of the work vividly underscored. Tanoa León’s One Mo’ Time (2016) mixed a varied palette of chromaticism with inflections of gospel and jazz. She is one of the best at allowing these two traditions to coexist in her music in organic fashion. Christopher Cerrone supplied one of the evening’s most imaginative works. Hoyt=Schermerhorn for keyboard mixed a gradual build-up of soft textures that was somewhat indebted to the works of Feldman but through quicker changes of harmony. Over time, effects such as reverb and treble register loops brought the piece from its eighties origins into the twenty-first century. Amalgam (2015) by Taylor Brook, was the concert’s most experimental piece, with the players (and soprano Lucy Shelton) moving from disparate roles to unison playing, then heterophonic treatment of the piece’s melody. Amalgam is a fascinating composition that certainly proved to be a successful experiment for Da Capo.

The concert’s standout was Romancero (1983), for soprano and ensemble, settings of four medieval poems thought to be from the Sephardic Jewish tradition by Mario Davidovsky. Shelton was as expressive as ever and well-matched for the angular challenges posed by Romancero’s post-tonal pitch vocabulary. Her voice ranged from delicately floating pianissimo passages to forceful forte declamations. The instrumental parts are quite demanding as well, reminiscent of the complexly articulate language of Davidovsky’s electroacoustic Synchronisms. Shelton is a frequent collaborator with Da Capo (see a recent video of their rendition of Arnold Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire below), and their association showed in the intricate interplay between voice and instruments: a gem of a performance.

As if to remind us of the celebratory catholicity of taste that bound together the disparate strands of this program, its finale was the brief, yet brilliantly multi-faceted, Encore (1991) by Bruce Adolphe. Composed to celebrate the Da Capo Players’ twentieth anniversary, it has remained a staple of their repertoire. It is hard to believe that the group has now been going for 48 years. Based on the vigor with which they performed at Merkin Hall, the sky’s the limit for their upcoming golden anniversary season.



[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vw-OItKIZMc&w=560&h=315]

by Christian Carey
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Piano

Reinier van Houdt at Dog Star 14

The 14th annual Dog Star concert series rolled into The Wild Beast at CalArts on June 9, 2018 and featured the Los Angeles appearance of the noted Dutch pianist Reinier van Houdt. A fine crowd assembled in The Beast despite a brush fire that shut down two lanes of the local freeway. Four contemporary solo piano pieces were on the program as well as Concert for Piano and Orchestra, by John Cage.

Layers for Piano, by Nomi Epstein, opened the program and began with a series of soft, single notes followed by brief chords. A deep rumble was occasionally heard in the lower registers, but the opening pattern of a few notes plus a simple chord persisted as the piece proceeded. The phrasing was consistently spare but engaging, with a quietly mysterious feel. The emotional delivery was impressive given the economical use of sound and masterfully restrained touch by van Houdt. The soft nebulous edges of Layers for Piano artfully evoked a comfortable float on a feathery cloud.

More quiet music followed with Pythagorean Study for piano and electronics, by Andrew Young. Short two-note chords separated by silence were repeated, as if some signal were being transmitted. As the piece proceeded this muted pattern repeated, with the notes changing pitch or played in a different register. The overall effect was to create a wistfully nostalgic sensibility from just this simple construct. The soft keyboard playing by van Houdt was the critical element here, and the listening was like basking in a collection of warm memories. Also, by Jennie Gottschalk followed and this displayed a similarity to the Young piece in that it consisted of quietly simple chords. These included dissonance as well as a somewhat darker tone in the lower registers. Although carefully subdued, Also contained a slightly sinister feel that was enhanced by the accelerando towards the finish. Rapid high and low notes completed the drama at the ending.

Trapani, by Jerry Hunt followed, and this 1989 solo piano piece provided a lively contrast to the more reserved music heard in the program to this point. Strong tremolos rippled through the highest and lowest registers of the keyboard producing an agitated feel full of anxiety and tension. A great wash of notes continued with a distinctly fluid feel, like some darkly churning waterway in full flood. The dynamics rose and fell like a surging tide, cresting to an impressive level, only to pull back again. The texture was a mass of continuous motion, as if driven by waves on a stormy sea. The extended tremolos, the variations in volume and intensity were all skillfully executed by van Houdt, whose precise control over the keyboard never wavered. Trapani is an expressive and animated conjuring of the powerful natural forces at work all around us.

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by Paul Muller