Concert review

Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Noon to Midnight – Part 2

The Noon to Midnight event at Disney Hall allows you to choose from twenty different performances at various places throughout the venue. It is impossible to see everything over the twelve hours, but here is more about of what I heard.

Jacaranda Music took the main concert stage at 2:00 PM to perform The Illusion of Permanence, by Rajna Swaminathan, a world premiere and LA Phil commission. The ensemble arrived, consisting of double bass, cello, viola and violin along with a flute, oboe, trumpet, marimba and piano. The composer played the tabla and provided vocals. All were led by conductor David Bloom. The sound from this smallish ensemble filled the big hall nicely with a languid, tranquil feeling. The tabla kept up a steady, reassuring pulse that also added an exotic feeling – this was clearly inspired by the Indian Classical tradition. The familiar Western acoustic instruments mixed easily with the mystical sensibility of the music, resulting in very accessible sound. As the piece proceeded, solos from each instrument floated in and out of the texture, adding to the peaceful feeling. At the finish the musicians left their chairs and moved about the stage while singing in lovely harmony. As the last sounds of The Illusion of Permanence faded away, there was a long, thoughtful silence as the audience processed this quietly beautiful piece.

Later that afternoon percussionist Joseph Pereira assembled his collection of timpani, a bass drum, amplifiers and computers in BP Hall for a performance two original pieces, both world premiers. They were the product of experimentation during the long months of Covid isolation when there was little opportunity to play in public. Both pieces explore the recording and electronic processing of sounds made by various new methods of exciting the drum head surface. Magnificent Desolation was first, performed on a large bass drum mounted such that the drum head was horizontal. A microphone was placed over this and a series of rushing sounds were produced by striking or rubbing the drum head with various objects. The processed and amplified sounds were then projected out into the vast BP Hall spaces, with impressive results. At times the sounds were like the booming of thunder or the soft swirl of the surf on beach sand. A wooden block applied to the drum head produced a rougher, almost abrasive sound that was processed into a great roar. A mallet striking became a cannon shot and a metallic, bell-like vessel on the drum head added a mechanical feel when amplified. A cymbal was brought crashing down on the drum with what could only be called a startling result when amplified. When the cymbal was bowed while resting on the drum, the effect was convincingly alien. Magnificent Desolation extended and then dramatically illustrated the vocabulary of the bass drum, taking it far beyond its conventional role.

Kyma, for timpani and electronics followed. A set of four timpani were amplified and the sounds processed as in the previous piece. This configuration gave Pereira chance to show off some serious percussion chops as he moved smoothly among the drums producing various effects. When conventional mallets were applied in a typical roll, the amplified result was a loud booming that resembled a powerful explosion. The rapid mixing of strikes on all four timpani produced an unexpected variety of new sounds. Kyma was a virtuosic display of new techniques possible on the timpani, that traditional anchor of orchestral percussion.

After the percussion, Piano Spheres arrived in BP Hall in the persons of Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay for the performance two keyboard pieces. The first of these was Rad, by Eno Poppe and this was a duet with two electronic keyboards programmed for microtones. This began with one keyboard sounding a repeating phrase as the second soon joined in counterpoint. This soon morphed into a series of pleasantly complex and highly independent phrases that shared a common beat. As this progressed, jumpy rhythms and cascading waves of microtonal sounds swept out over the BP Hall audience that had filled to overflowing. There were even a long row of onlookers peering down from the bar on the upper level. The coordination between the Piano Spheres players was remarkable, even as the phrasing became louder and the rhythms more percussive.

The piece then changed, continuing with an ambling tempo and a feeling that was slightly more subdued. At length, a series of short, snappish phrases emerged in a sort of call-and-answer conversation that intensified into an outright argument. Long, growling phrases were issued, sending furious sheets of sound throughout the hall. The tempo and energy increased until finally the two performers collapsed onto their keyboards, their forearms creating a final, climactic tone cluster. A huge ovation followed for what was a skillful and exciting performance by two outstanding pianists.

The second piece from Piano Spheres was Four Organs by Steve Reich. Thomas Kotcheff and Sarah Gibson joined Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay for this venerable work of classic minimalism. The four keyboard performers and Derek Tywoniuk, the maraca player, all sat around a table, and this proved important as it allowed the keyboardists to communicate visually. Four Organs began with a steady beat provided by the maraca and a short two-note phrase from all four keyboards. At length, one of the players added to the short note before the tutti chord. As the piece continued, the other players began to lengthen their notes, often starting a beat or two ahead of the others. Unlike other Reich works where eighth-note rhythms are typically varied by addition or subtraction, Four Organs continues with the players adding to the lengthening phrases at different times – a sort of obverse counterpoint.

All of this takes careful counting and a close communication between the players. The steady maraca pulse helped, but the performers were in constant eye contact and could be seen nodding their heads together to confirm the count. The resulting precision was impressive. The sound system was also up to the challenge of BP Hall, typically noisy from foot traffic around the adjacent escalators. Four Organs was successfully navigated by the performers and made for a nice minimalist respite after the frenzy of the previous piece.

Just at sunset, BP Hall was reconfigured for Song Cycle, LIVE by Special Request, composed by Chris Kallmyer and a world premiere commissioned by the LA Phil. Three large tables were placed a few feet apart, two of which were equipped with keyboards and a variety of everyday and musical objects. The third table had a microphone and a stack of cut flowers. A ‘superteam’ of musicians were stationed by the tables; two at the keyboards as well as a guitar and trumpet. Kallmyer was at the microphone to recite his text for the piece and director Zoe Aja Moore stood ready by the flowers. Song Cycle is designed to be an indefinite piece with no fixed time limit; this performance ran about 45 minutes. The text consisted of a few dozen simple statements, variously introspective, reflective or nostalgic. The sequence of these can be randomly re-ordered for as long as the piece is to be performed.

Song Cycle began with slowly changing chords and a beautiful ambient wash that formed the perfect foundation for the other instrumental sounds as they entered and exited the flow. Kallmyer slowly and deliberately recited the text, his voice resting easy on the ears and quietly inhabiting the emotions of the music. The sounds were sustained and the pace languid. At times, instrumental lines rose and subsided adding some variety to the texture. As the words of the text fell on the different colors in the music, new emotions stirred in the listener. The effect was like pondering a sunset and watching the slowly changing colors unfold.

After the first run through of the text, a new sequence was begun and the pace increased slightly. Director Moore then took some flowers from the table and began building an arrangement in a large vase. The music and text continued as before, but the building of the flower arrangement occupied the visual attention of the listener, increasing the mental space for the meditative element of the experience. This was a brilliant bit of stagecraft and greatly increased the engagement of the audience. As the flower arrangement was completed, the piece softly coasted to its close. Song Cycle LIVE by Special Request is typical Kallmyer, a masterful combination of text, sound and simplicity that brings infinite possibilities for contemplative inspiration.


Please read Mark Swed’s fine review of Noon to Midnight in the LA Times for his coverage of many of the pieces I was not able to hear.



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

Noon to Midnight – Part 1

On Saturday, April 9, after a pandemic-enforced hiatus of two years, the Noon to Midnight: A Day of New Music event returned to the Disney Concert Hall sponsored by the Los Angeles Philharmonic. This popular open house features local new music groups and performances throughout the Disney Hall venue. It is informal, low cost, and a chance to catch up with musical friends and listen to a variety of new sounds. The LA Phil commissioned a number of pieces and their New Music Group also performed. The many offerings overlap so you can’t hear all of it, but with 12 hours of new music scheduled, there is something for everyone.

Beginning exactly at noon, Tuning Meditation, by Pauline Oliveros, was conducted by Clare Chase in the cavernous BP Hall space. As the audience filed in, small printed cards were handed out that contained the entire score of Tuning Meditation. Ms. Chase explained that this was an audience participation piece and read out the instructions from the score: “Using any vowel sound, sing a tone that you hear in your imagination. After contributing your tone, listen for someone else’s tone and tune to its pitch as exactly as possible. Continue by alternating between singing a tone of your own and tuning to the tone of another voice. Introduce new tones at will and tune to as many different voices as are present. Sing warmly.”

Ms. Chase started this off with a clear pitch and began walking through the assembled audience who were all standing and scattered through the space. There were several hundred people present and since many were skilled musicians, a variety of lovely tones soon emerged. The various pitches swelled and subsided as new and exquisite harmonies spontaneously appeared and just as quickly evaporated. Layers of vocals enveloped the participants and the transcendental connections among this cloud of human voices was very moving. The normally challenging acoustic of BP Hall was, happily, not an impediment to the intimate exchange of musical emotion rising from so many voices. The Oliveros concept of Deep Listening is nowhere better illustrated than with Tuning Meditation – so simple, yet so very effective.

The Southland Ensemble next and the players formed a large semicircle to perform A Simple Opera, by Ben Patterson. This consisted of a narrator who began by speaking simple declarative phrases into a microphone, followed by an increasing series of short honks and plinks from the surrounding instruments. As the piece continued, the spoken phrases grew shorter while the instrumental bursts grew longer. This simple technique had the unexpected effect of cheerfully engaging the audience. The words from the narrator amounted to a brief explanation of the piece and a warm welcome to the Noon to Midnight event.

The Southland Ensemble made some quick configuration adjustments and soon began “Paragraph 2” from The Great Learning, by Cornelius Cardew, the English experimental composer. The ensemble was divided into three groups, each with a drummer, a lead vocalist and supporting singers. The text for the piece is derived from an English translation of the sayings of Confucius and each vocalist sings out a phrase as the other groups respond. All of this is independent and indeterminate, with much freedom of interpretation. There is no common tempo or pulse. The drummers individually select a rhythm from a list notated in the score, then change this as and when desired. The lead vocalist of one of the groups begins by singing out a phrase through a megaphone and this is supported by the other singers in that group. This call is then answered by the other two groups, often simultaneously and in a pleasing harmony.

The combination of independent drumming and the calling out by the vocalists creates a wonderfully primal feel, as if we are witnessing an important tribal assembly or ceremony. The singing and drumming are continuous, yet never become repetitive or tiring. The complete Great Learning is very long and only “Paragraph 2” was performed here. The strong drumming and use of megaphones for the vocals proved equal to the BP Hall acoustic distractions, and the performance carried to clearly the back of the space. This seemingly elementary and disorganized work, convincingly performed by the Southland Ensemble, carries a remarkable emotional punch; another example of the supremacy of the simple over the formal.

A little after 1:00 PM, pianist Vicki Ray performed a set of five pieces outdoors on the terrace, in the Keck Amphitheater. First was Improvisation and Fugue by Alfred Schnittke and this opened with dramatic and dissonant chords followed by trills and rapid runs of notes. Strong dynamic contrasts highlighted a dark and mysterious feel and the amplification system was effective getting the sound of the grand piano out into the audience. A few bars into the “Fugue” section, and just as a nice groove was developing, there was a sudden mechanical malfunction inside the piano. Ever the consummate professional, Ms. Ray calmly had the problem fixed and re-started the second section whose increasing complexity presently grew into a formidable technical challenge. There was no loss of precision or focus, however, and the piece ended quietly.

Majestic, composed by Wadada Leo Smith followed, and this began with a deep bass riff along with short, rapid passages in the middle registers that produced a grand feeling with just a hint of mystery. As this proceeded, an interesting back-and-forth between the lower register notes and strongly contending upper passages added a complimentary layer of artful intricacy. A few minutes into Majestic, the afternoon sun found a gap in the overhead tarps and was now shining directly into the eyes of Ms. Ray as she was reading the score from her iPad. Happily, this did not result in any noticeable reduction in the sharpness of her performance, which concluded uneventfully. Imprompu (À deux mains), by Mauricio Kagel was next and this featured quick spurts of notes followed by a slower and more deliberate sections. A similar theme was then repeated in the middle and lower registers and the piece oscillated between fast and playful and a slower, more dramatic phrasing.

A Cecil Taylor piano solo from Life as… followed, as transcribed and notated by Kaja Draksler. Who but Vicki Ray would even attempt to play such a thing? The piece was filled with a mind-boggling variety of grace notes, ornaments, styles and fragmentary quotes, all played at a furious pace. You could hear that Taylor’s improvisation was working off of phrases and riffs from the original accompaniment so that it constantly dipped and turned in unexpected directions. Absent its original context, the piece had a slightly choppy feel, but this was nevertheless a memorable performance. Who knew that eye and hand could be sufficiently agile to recreate such a masterful improvisation?

The set concluded with Ligeti’s Capriccio No. 2 and this was full of ups and downs, a pleasant lightness and lots of energy. With its active and playful feel along with a bright and engaging sensibility, this piece practically shouted ‘Capriccio’. With all that Ms. Ray had been through to this point, her playing did not disappoint.

Part II of this review will cover performances by Jacaranda Music, Joseph Pereira, Piano Spheres and Chris Kallmyer.

Please read Mark Swed’s fine review of Noon to Midnight in the LA Times for his excellent coverage of many of the pieces I was not able to hear.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Nadia Shpachenko Recital

On April 2, 2022 in Salmon Hall at Chapman University, Grammy Award-winning pianist Nadia Shpachenko was the guest artist for a recital of piano music that featured two world premieres. Recent pieces by contemporary composers Ian Dicke, Dana Kaufman, David Sanford, Adam Schoenberg, and Pamela Z were included, centering on a theme inspired by the game of soccer. The final work of the evening was Invasion, by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Lewis Spratlan, performed by an instrumental ensemble and composed in response to the horrific events unfolding in Ukraine, Ms. Shpachenko’s home country.

The first piece on the program was Telstar Loops for piano and electronics (2021), by Ian Dicke. The theme of the first half of the concert was the game of soccer and Telstar Loops drew inspiration from the shape of the Adidas Telstar soccer ball used in the 1970 World Cup. This ball is reminiscent of the shape of the old Telstar satellites that were used to relay television signals between continents. Telstar Loops proceeds in three movements and the first, “Tensegrity”, opens with strong three-note chords that are picked up by the electronics and looped. This produces an echo effect so that new chords work against the decaying sounds to create the spare, almost alien feel of a Telstar satellite in space. As the movement continues, rapid piano phrases appear and are looped, creating a complex, yet playful texture. The electronics and the piano worked well together, the live and looped sounds artfully filling the hall without causing confusion.

The second movement, “Satellite”, is more specifically descriptive of the actual Telstar spacecraft and the piano issued quietly solemn chords that, when looped, produce an open and somewhat lonely feel. As the rhythms picked up and began to flow, the intersection of the sounds in the hall produced a series of intriguing harmonies. Towards the finish, powerful piano chords boomed out creating a sense of grandeur, fitting for Telstar’s pioneering flight.

“Buckyball”, movement three, refers to the geometric shape of the Telstar soccer ball and its resemblance to the geodesic dome, created by Buckminster Fuller. The movement began with a complex melody that included trills and ornaments, all pleasantly multiplied by the looping electronics and amplification. The feeling was warm and inviting and towards the finish there were strong chords that added a bit of drama. The contrast of powerful, then soft chords was especially effective. Overall, Telstar Loops makes a strong musical connection between the Telstar satellite and its namesake soccer ball from 1971. The close integration of the electronics and piano artfully increase the intentions of the composer without distraction and the resulting realization by Ms. Shpachenko at the piano and Adam Borecki manning the electronics panel was impressive.

La Pulga Variations (2021) by David Sanford followed. This piece consists of seven short movements that are based on the relationships of various soccer personalities to Lionel Messi, the famous Argentine footballer. The solo piano movements varied from the majestic to the mysterious. Playful melodies were heard, as well as big, formal sounds and crashing chords, depending on the movement. La Pulga will probably be best enjoyed by those with a wide historical knowledge of international soccer. The styles and personalities of the various players – and even Messi’s mother Celia – permeate each of the movements. As La Pulga proceeds, the emotions from the piano run stronger and carry a sense of greatness, aided by Ms. Shpachenko who knows how to deliver a robust passage. The final movement “Magisterial” sums up the sense of respect Messi’s play has received over the years. La Pulga Variations is the heartfelt musical tribute of a soccer lover to Lionel Messi and his extraordinary professional career.

Balón (2021), a world premiere, by Pamela Z was next. It incorporates the solo piano as well as tape, voice and electronics. For this performance, the recorded voice of Pamela Z was heard through the sound system. Balón is inspired by the geometry present in the game of soccer, as Pamela Z writes: “I find numbers, patterns, and layers appealing, and I attempted, in this piece, to overlay the physical characteristics of the Telstar-style ball with the geometry of the passing patterns the players use to deftly work the ball toward the opposition’s goal.”

The opening of Balón is, in fact, a spoken description of the geometry in the soccer ball itself. Deep piano chords and lovely sustained vocals enter and soon the voice and piano phrases are intertwined to produce a complex, yet engaging texture. The vocals by Pamela Z were most effective and did not suffer from being recorded and projected through the sound system – she has a beautiful voice. Ms. Shpachenko played with precision and never seemed lost, despite the many moving parts and complicated structure. Balón has a warm and sunny feel that evokes pleasant memories of an afternoon spent watching soccer.

Next was Honeyball (2021) by Dana Kaufman, inspired by Nettie Honeyball who founded the first women’s soccer team in Great Britain in 1895. The piece is built around soccer match reviews of the team published at the time, reflecting a generally condescending point of view. The title of the first movement “An Ungraceful Jog Trot” is a direct quote from one of these reviews and these words are heard spoken over the sound system by Ms. Shpachenko. The music replies, absolutely seething with disdain. The piano is alternately playful and angry as the dynamics swing between softer and louder and the tempo, like blood pressure, rises and falls. The second movement, “Change is Slow”, is more dignified and reserved with a simple melody and sedate chords. The pitch set was ingeniously derived by the composer from the playing statistics of the US Women’s World Cup Final victory in 2019. This hymn-like tribute to the pioneering Ms. Honeyball is an effective contrast to the impassioned first movement.

“Coquetry and Cleats”, the final movement, seems poised to renew the fury of movement I. The words of a patronizing contemporary newspaper description of the uniforms worn by the women soccer players are again heard over the sound system. But instead of a caustic reply from the piano, Ms. Shpachenko quickly changes out of her แทงบอลออนไลน์ ไม่มีขั้นต่ํา shoes and puts on bright orange knee socks and cleats. Long white gloves complete this new look, just as the words “dainty white gloves” are heard over the speakers. Nadia then begins to tap out a rhythm with the spiked shoes as more recorded percussion is added through the sound system. The result is sarcastically farcical and constitutes a biting commentary on the lack of progress over the past 130 years for equity in women’s soccer. Honeyball is an inventive and highly accessible work that informs and entertains, even as it makes an important statement.

Last Dance for solo piano (2021) by Adam Schoenberg, completed the first part of the concert program. Schoenberg writes in the program notes: “Last Dance is a quasi neo-romantic work that is meant to capture the moments before someone’s final game. As a collegiate soccer player myself, I vividly remember my final game as a senior. In many ways, my entire college experience was built around the soccer team.” This is a quietly lyrical work that expresses nostalgia for the game and the comradeship it engenders. A light melody floats on top of sweet and inviting harmonies. The feeling in Last Dance is delicate and sweet, summoning the best memories of youth; the perfect way to end the first part of this concert program.

The final work on the program was Invasion (2022) by Lewis Spratlan, and this is a sharp departure from the music that had preceded. The lighthearted soccer theme of the first half was intended to stand alone and this concert was planned well before the appalling recent events in Ukraine. Ms. Shpachenko was born and raised in Kharkiv and has displaced family there, so the news from Ukraine was simply impossible to ignore. The commission for Invasion was completed by Spratlan in just three weeks, in time for its world premiere at this concert. After a short intermission to rearrange the stage, an ensemble consisting of piano, trombone, horn, alto saxophone, mandolin and percussion arrived, all led by conductor Anthony Parnther.

Invasion opens with a booming timpani followed by the horns and piano who combine in a menacing swell of sound. After a few introductory moments, a mandolin solo is briefly heard in a fragment of a Russian folk song, followed by the sounds of marching band music from the horns signaling the arrival of Russian forces. The powerful booming of the timpani returns, clearly announcing the invasion and shelling of the towns. The horns sound loud, angry notes and the piano is agitated and unsettled. The harsh sounds of battle continue and martial snare drum riffs are heard amid the syncopated and broken rhythms from the rest of the ensemble.

A Grand Pause suddenly stills the chaos for a moment and then a quiet melody starts in the piano, gradually turning anxious. The horn and trombone each enter with sustained, plaintive notes, soon picked up by the others in a crescendo that is both frightening and sorrowful. The furious battle sounds return, now with wildly independent lines in the horns; the intensity here is reminiscent of the first half of Henryk Górecki’s Trombone Concerto. The booming of the timpani and the general confusion continued to increase, even as the piece reached its uncertain conclusion. The playing and conducting were excellent given what must have been a difficult score and a short rehearsal time. Invasion is an evocative and powerful musical snapshot of the war in Ukraine. Perhaps this is the opening movement of a work that will ultimately give us a heroic and victorious final ending.

A concert that opens with a series of cheery soccer pieces and concludes with an account of unspeakable horrors is certainly incongruous. But perhaps it is an accurate reflection of our present time – we have gone from a fawning self-centered concern over the trivial to the shocking reality of the unspeakable. Given the uncertainty of the economy, the specter of a renewed pandemic and the lack of live performances these past two years, it is reassuring to know that a concert such as this can be presented at this moment with competence and grace.


Performers:

Anthony Parnther, conductor
Nadia Shpachenko, piano
Pat Posey, saxophone
Aija Mattson-Jovel, horn
Phil Keen, trombone
Yuri Inoo, percussion
Joti Rockwell, mandolin

by 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
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
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
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Video, Violin

Daniel Corral – Hodad



The March 2021 offering from Music for Your Inbox is Hodad, a new video by Daniel Corral performed by violinist Myra Hinrichs. This work audaciously combines the Southern California surf with a solo violin played on the beach to create a unique collaboration between artist and nature. The program notes state: “At the beach, a violinist watches the waves roll in and out. The ocean becomes a score. Spot a wave in the distance. The wave crests; the wave washes up on the shore; the wave retracts and disappears into the sea. Play according to the wave’s movements.” The result is ostensibly a relaxing 21 minute interlude on a sunny beach, but there are surprising musical insights as well.

Nature has historically been a subject for emulation in music and there are many examples from contemporary composition: Olivier Messiaen used birdsong extensively in his Catalogue d’oiseaux, The Wind in High Places, by John Luther Adams perfectly captures the chilly peaks of Alaska, River of 1000 Streams by Daniel Lentz flows powerfully down to the sea and the music of Jeffrey Holmes is full of fierce Nordic weather. And these are just a few of the many recent pieces that could be cited.

Hodad differs from the conventional treatment of nature in music, however, by making the ocean an integral partner in the composition and the performance. This might seem impractical – apart from bagpipes or a massed brass band, acoustic instruments intended for the confines of the concert hall would seem to be no match for nature outdoors. The violin in Hodad is fitted with a pickup, but even so, it would be hard to imagine a greater imbalance than that between a single violin and the Pacific surf. Yet it is this one-sided combination that is the key to the piece.

Hodad opens with the camera looking out to the open sea with the sound of the waves rolling up on the shore. Myra Hinrichs is seen facing the surf, with her violin and music stand. She soon starts off with a soft, sustained tone that begins when a wave washes up to the beach. There is no attempt here to make the violin compete with the surf; this is intentional as the composer is also the sound engineer for this performance. The camera work by Tim Lacatena is properly static, with the ocean and Ms. Hinrichs sharing the scene equally. As the piece continues, the violin seems, at times, to be loosely coordinated with the wave action, but always with soft, sustained tones. It should be noted that the ocean that day was absolutely typical for the season – low rolling waves with an afternoon breeze and a slightly hazy sky. There was no drama in the water, everything on the otherwise empty beach was entirely normal.

The surf, tame by the standards of the ocean, nevertheless completely dominates the sound from the violin. A few tentative pizzicato notes were seen on the video, but these were completely inaudible. The sound mixing keeps the surf in the foreground and invites focus and close listening to hear the violin. The result of this is that the sounds of the surf are more vivid to the listener and a wide variety of details are heard that might otherwise be ignored by the brain. In a sense the ocean has stolen the show, but this is only possible because the surf a participant in the performance. The roll of the incoming waves, the rattle of sand and stone in the surf along with the hiss of a wave running up on the beach are all heard with a new clarity and detail. Without the violin, the listener hears the wash of the surf as a kind of sonic wallpaper – with the violin, the waves become a second instrument.

The fragility of the violin in the salty air and strong breeze is obvious in the video. The disciplined playing by Ms. Hinrichs is critical – meant to compliment the surf and not to dominate or even equal it. Hodad is a metaphor for the relative spheres of influence – the violin in the concert hall and the surf outdoors. One is full of quiet introspection, the other has unlimited energy, but in this piece both can be examined by the listener in the same context. Hodad is an ambitious piece, if only for including a force of nature into the performance. A sunny afternoon spent at the beach will never seem the same.

Hodad is available for viewing through Music for Your Inbox.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

wasteLAnd Ensemble – Voice Fragments

On January 29, 2021 the wasteLAnd ensemble streamed the premiere of Voice Fragments, by Davíð Brynjar Franzson, featuring soprano Stephanie Aston. WasteLAnd is one of the anchors of new music here in Los Angeles and it is encouraging that they are finding ways to stay active during the pandemic. Voice Fragments was commissioned and developed for streaming and represents an adoption of the technology into the art rather than just an online presentation of a typical musical concert. The streamed premiere was of high quality in both sound and video, with Ms. Aston capably carrying the production with her visual presence and superb voice.

The video opens with Ms. Aston framed against a black background, shown from the shoulders up. Her face has a determined look, but full of that cool reserve so characteristic of her performance demeanor. Birds are heard chirping and there is the distant roar of a car along a roadway. After a few minutes of only outdoor sounds, Ms. Aston joins in with a clear, steady tone, held for a few seconds. Electronics enter, and there is another sustained vocal tone with the same pitch, duration and purity. The sounds of nature are heard throughout, including what seems to be the rush of a gentle surf. The image of Ms. Aston goes in and out of focus at times while her vocal tones continue. This establishes the basic format of the piece: the field recording of birds and outdoor nature, a subdued electronic accompaniment and peaceful vocal tones from Ms. Aston. The overall effect is restful and full of nature with the voice adding a welcome human element.

As Voice Fragments proceeds, variations emerge as the effects cascade. A looped vocal is heard simultaneously with the live tone at a slightly different pitch, creating a tender, ethereal harmony. A deeper pitch from the voice adds a sense of depth while at other times a low bass tone in the electronics serves to underline the vocal phrases above. The electronics never overwhelm and the field recording remains a loud chatter of birds, occasionally dominated by mechanical sounds. Ms. Aston maintains the same neutral look on her face throughout while singing with solid discipline.

Towards the middle of the piece, the jet black background dissolves into a large garden window, looking out on a sunny suburban yard. This acts to accentuate the barrier between the human voice and the sounds of nature. The twittering of birds becomes more prominent as the scene is now visually green and natural. Ms. Aston’s voice is heard as before, and her ghostly image appears to float in the center of the window. The scene soon reverts to the black background with Ms. Aston in the center and there is the loud roar of a passing automobile. Vocal tones are heard as the background image changes again, another window looking out over the front yard with a tree in the center. The chirping of the birds seems to increase and is joined by the distinctively shrill squealing of squirrels. Further variations on these scenes follow – another window view, this time of a side yard, the return of the jet black background, Ms. Aston’s image appearing and fading along with more or fewer natural sounds from the garden.

The juxtaposition of the natural sounds with Ms. Aston’s hovering visage and plaintive tones combine to persuasively convey a longing for communion with nature, even if only in the modest garden of a suburban yard. The compelling sounds of the bird calls and squirrel chirps seem all out of proportion to their humble suburban source; the field recording throughout is extraordinary in its detail and variety. The steady vocals in accompaniment serve to magnify the human yearning for a re-connection to nature while at the same time mourning our self-imposed isolation from it. The poignant voice of Stephanie Aston, working with economical musical materials, nevertheless achieves a high level of expressive power.

Voice Fragments succeeds through a solid combination of skilled video technique, excellent recordings of nature and masterful singing. Voice Fragments skillfully captures the tension between the restraints of civilization and the liberating freedom in nature that is our instinctive desire.

Voice Fragments may be viewed directly on YouTube.

by Paul Muller