Concert review

Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Ojai, Premieres

Ojai Music Festival – McIntosh and Aucoin

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Ojai

Ojai Music Festival – Julius Eastman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eastman Personnel:

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

by Paul Muller
Chamber Music, Classical Music, Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, New York, Orchestral, Review, Twentieth Century Composer

The Parker Quartet premieres Jeremy Gill’s “Motherwhere”

April the First proved a propitious date for the New York Classical Players’ much anticipated program featuring a new collaboration – and premiere – with the Parker Quartet. In the mere twelve years since their inception, NYCP has consistently brought spirit and devotion to so much of what they do, and this early Spring concert at W83 Auditorium was no exception. In many respects, the highlight of the evening was Jeremy Gill’s joyous new work, “Motherwhere,” a concerto grosso for the Parker Quartet and NYCP. But well-worn, oft’-loved music by Tchaikovsky was also on offer, delivered with great heart. And that is how the evening began:

Opening the program as soloist in the Andante Cantabile for cello and strings, Madeline Fayette, (NYCP’s own), commanded centerstage. Forthright, with an immediate brand of lyricism, Fayette radiated warmth from her cello, upheld by a muscularity of execution. Her global tone seemed born of a seductively dark palette. While lush and nourishing was Fayette’s romantic sense, the coloring became all too similar at times. One hankered for more variety in sonority, extracted from the piano end of the dynamic spectrum. Brighter hues too, would have enhanced an admittedly emotionally satisfying reading. Conductor Dongmin Kim guided the chamber orchestra deftly, ever sensitive to Fayette’s richly etched lines. Notably, Tchaikovsky’s moments of silence were realized expertly by Fayette, aided again by the orchestra’s soft touch. At times it seemed as though conductor Kim was a little too aloof and might well have taken opportunity to invigorate the proceedings with contrasting textures and inner accompaniment parts, especially from the upper strings.

 

Photo credit: New York Classical Players

From the start, it was apparent that NYCP has an affinity for Tchaikovsky and such canonic works remain a hallmark of their repertoire. The second Tchaikovsky item on the program was the irresistible Serenade for Strings of 1880. It can easily be observed that the New York Classical Players straddle two worlds: that of a high-level ensemble who don’t really need a conductor, and that of the effortless sinfonietta who follow their leader with attentive skill and palpable delight. NYCP’s performance of the Serenade threw both spheres into sharp relief.

From the outset of Movement 1, this “Pezzo in forma di sonatina” bristled forth with an excess of springtide energy and conviction. Every single player was committed to the sum of the parts and proved adept at sweeping, upsprung passages. The full-blooded fortes were ever impressive, generous in their tonal production. The orchestra seemed less able to dig into the finer work of textural detail and soft timbres; refined aspects of blending were, at times, problematic. Nevertheless, moments of delicacy and whispered tunefulness were gloriously realized in the third movement, the Élégie.

In what has come to be earmarked as a personal work from Tchaikovsky, the Serenade’s folksy tendencies were cleverly enlightened by NYCP. At times, the spirit of Dvorak came to mind, as dance elements and rhythmic physicality were exemplified by the orchestra, flattering much of the performance. Kim’s conducting was precise and encouraging yet missed the larger picture. A “bird’s eye view” of this music would have been more satisfying.

A particularly memorable solo from the concert master nearly stole the show but it seemed to encourage the entire ensemble to really shoot for the top in the final movement, rhapsodically reaching every phrase with a breadth of expression. (This approach does prove effective – and often necessary! – in Tchaikovsky’s music.)

The evening’s premiere, Jeremy Gill’s Motherwhere, leapt to an earnest start, giving ample platform to the Parker Quartet’s myriad attributes. Vitality and playfulness abounded as this concerto grosso was set A-reveling, an ideal showcase for what the Parkers have become celebrated for. Characteristics of each of the four solo instruments (the concertino) bubbled happily to the fore, where divergent gestures narrated a candid mode of expression, integral and benevolent, perfectly suited to the musicians Gill so reveres. During a recent interview, the composer declared his affection for the Parker Quartet: “Writing for them is a joy, and I hope that joy is manifest in the notes I write for them.” He also emphasized his desire for “creating ideal environments in which ensembles can play and sound their best.” Motherwhere boasts eclectic source material, various in its own inspirations. Night School: A Reader for Grownups (2007) is a book of stories by author, Zsófia Bán. This was the starting point for Gill in an endeavor to “evoke, musically, the experience of reading her book.” The structure of Gill’s musical “metamorphosis” indicated itself, as he converted Bán’s “bag-of-tales” into a tightly wrought, nearly continuous set of twenty-one bagatelles. Self-proclaimed, this represents his objective to “match up the emotional evocations of the music and the tale.”

 

Composer Jeremy Gill; photo by Arielle Doneson

The Parker Quartet divine much from Gill’s 슬롯사이트 economy of means, transforming terse, even simple motives into a lingua franca for the listener to relish. Elements of familiarity are welcomed, as Gill’s sunny, near-hummable lines ring of truth and of beauty, distilled with a congenial dose of Americana. His carefully considered formal structures urge a dramatic, even theatrical, listening experience. Also finding folk aspects implicit to the string orchestra profile itself (cf. Tchaikovsky), Gill’s penchant for highlighting the concertino serves his purposes well; lower strings were especially punctuated. Some extended techniques proved effective throughout Motherwhere, often serving as percussive devices (ie. pizzicato, strumming and glissandi). The unison passages, while arresting, posed intonation challenges and became cumbersome, if not gritty.

 

 

Jeremy Gill’s vision of form, interaction and brightness of spirit must be thoroughly commended here. Through strength of artistic vision, technical expertise and familiarity with the commissioning ensemble, the composer has achieved a kind of cinematic, fictive musical world, jolly and inviting.

Equal enthusiasm for Zsófia Bán’s literary talent cannot be overstated. Indeed, her “bag-of-tales” might be requisite reading after this musical premiere. Bán herself mused on the “accidental encounter” that composer Gill had with her work. She likened it to “the clicking of two billiard balls on a global pool table.” And the entire performance at West 83rd Street, on this first April night in 2022, had that very air about it: a spirited, celebratory meeting of like-minded colleagues and friends. The specter of Antonio Vivaldi, with his ubiquitous provenance of “Spring,” saluted us too from on high.

 

NOTE: This concert review dates from a performance on Friday, April 1, 2022 at W83 Auditorium, New York

 

 

 

by Adam Sherkin
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