Concerts

Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Festivals, Piano

Keys to the Future – Day 1 – Delicacies and Profundities

The opening concert for the Keys to the Future featured organizer Joseph Rubenstein, BOAC regular keyboardist Lisa Moore and Blair McMillen in a program practically devoid of common modernist influence.

8 short works (1980s) Howard Skempton (b. 1947)

Howard Skempton, a miniaturist of some reknown in Europe, but little recognized here, was featured in 8 short works selected and arranged by Rubenstein. While evoking a mastery of emotional poignancy, each of the pieces demonstrated a poverty of texture that was vaguely puritanical. The performance by Rubenstein was masterful. Notable among the eight pieces was The Keel Row, which began the concert. It was precious, still, and fragmented into a tiny gem of delight. The ‘Toccata in Memory of Morton Feldman’ was wonderfully conceived as a meditation with a returning Feldmanesque bass note.

Solitude (1978) Leo Ornstein (1892-2002)

Lisa Moore performed a neo-romantic masterpiece which we should be hearing more often. An odd synthesis of Russian romanticism, notably Scriabin’s later sonatas and etudes and Debussy. It was performed exquisitely with immaculate pedal and detailing.

Le jeu des contraires (1989) Henri Dutilleux (b. 1916)

Ms. Moore’s performance of ‘Le jeu des contraires’ by the living French composer Dutilleux was a delight. It was a sprawling, unpredictable combination of atonal scales, parallelisms and bell-like moments. It was miraculously controlled with a gusto often missing from peformances of recent French piano music.

Ode to “Ode to Joy” (1997) Bruce Stark (b. 1956)

Bruce Starks’ ‘Ode to “Ode to Joy”‘ was absolutely the audience favorite of the concert. An odd mixture of variation form and hilarious commentary on the tune combining unexpected mashups of jazz-rock stylings with serious and ecstatic cascades of sound. Lisa Moore thrilled with her precision and phenomenal dramatic buildup to an incredible climax. The humor at times, didn’t quite resonate with the emotional baggage of the tune, however. Chalk it up to it being performed on such a critical election day, perhaps.

Let Down (1997) Radiohead/Christopher O’Riley

After the intermission, Rubenstein returned to the keys to perform Christopher O’Riley’s transcriptions of Radiohead, notably ‘Let Down’ from the OK Computer album. The idea of transcribing such delicate rock for solo piano is fascinating, although frought with the dangers of the impossiblity of recreating the textural varieties and the inharmonicities inherent in the instrumentation and most importantly, Thom Yorkes’ voice. The frailties of the simple guitar part were recreated poignantly, but it was notable how very bald the melody became in the climax of the song without the cymbals and multiple guitars. The performance by Joseph Rubenstein was illuminating, full of detail and wonderful pedal effects.

24 Variations on a Bach Chorale (2002) Fred Hersch (b. 1955)

Blair McMillen closed the concert with jazz pianist Fred Hersh’s colossal 24 Variations on a Bach Chorale. A poly-stylistic and ambitious tour de force, it traced 200 years of textural and harmonic stylings while notably skipping the 20th century, except for jazz. The composition was technically and spiritually impressive yet ultimately a disappointment for failing to create a dramatic arch, suggested by the evocations of the music of Beethoven and Schumann. My favorite moments were the chromatic jazz stylings which maintained the propulsive quality felt throughout the piece. McMillen struggled at times to maintain the requisite energy, sweat pouring off his face, nevertheless he managed to bring the piece to a welcome and energetic climax.

Tonight’s concert promises to be equally enthralling with another Radiohead transcription and the music of Franghiz Ali-Zadeh, Takemitsu, Pärt et al.

by Jeff Harrington
Classical Music, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Festivals, Music Events, Piano

Keys to the Future Festival Coming Up Next Week

Season two of Keys to the Future, a festival of contemporary music for solo piano, takes place next week, November 7-9 (Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday) at Greenwich House’s Renee Weiler Concert Hall.  The six participating pianists are Lisa Moore, Blair McMillen, Tatjana Rankovich, Lora Tchekoratova, Polly Ferman, and myself. 

On the first night (Tuesday, 11/7), the brilliant pianist Blair McMillen will perform Fred Hersch’s gigantic piece called 24 Variations on a Bach Chorale. Here are some notes by the composer: 

The original chorale melody is by Hans Leo Hassler (1562-1612), but was borrowed several times by J.S. Bach, mostly famously as “O Haupt voll Blut und Wunder” in his St. Matthew’s Passion. But I first became familiar with this melody as a teenager in a secular English version known as “Because All Men Are Brothers” with lyrics by Tom Glazer; it was recorded by both The Weavers and Peter, Paul and Mary. After the events of September 11th, 2001, the powerful, timeless melody and those words inspired these variations.”  (Fred Hersch)

On the second evening (Wednesday, 11/8), I will perform Christopher O’Riley’s arrangement of Radiohead’s song Exit Music, which was written specifically for the closing credits of Baz Luhrmann’s 1996 film Romeo and Juliet. The song appears on Radiohead’s highly acclaimed third album, OK Computer (1997). In 2003, Christopher O’Riley released True Love Waits (Sony) the first of two CDs of songs by Radiohead arranged for solo piano. Radiohead’s dense, multi-layered music leans heavily on electronic processing for its moody sonic atmospherics; O’Riley evokes those complex textures with abundant but judicious use of the sustain and soft pedals, a deft use of dissonance and a rhythmically anxious left hand. 

On the third evening (Thursday, 11/9), virtuoso Tatjana Rankovich will play Pierre Jalbert’s Toccata. Here are some notes by the composer:

Having grown up as a pianist and being familiar with the toccatas of Schumann, Prokofiev, Rorem, and the like, I had always wanted to write a short, virtuosic work for the piano. I completed Toccata in the spring of 2001, while living in Rome at the American Academy on a Rome Prize fellowship for the year. Set in rondo-like form, the central feature of the piece is a rapid repeated-note figure, which appears in different guises throughout the work. (Pierre Jalbert)

It’s going to be great fun. I hope you come to one or more of the evenings. For further details, go here.

by Joseph Rubenstein
Composers, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Piano

A Happy (belated) Birthday to Morton Feldman

Morton FeldmanMorton Feldman
An 80th Birthday Celebration
Merkin Concert Hall
Saturday, October 28, 2006

I am perpetually late with birthday greetings. This past Saturday, as my wife and I entered the city for the Morton Feldman concert, I called my grandmother to wish her a happy birthday two days late. I felt a little better about myself when my wife pointed out that Morton Feldman’s 80th birthday celebration was being held a full nine and a half months after his 80th birthday.

I am just glad that the concert came together, though. The number of people who attended is a testament to Feldman’s influence over the years. La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela were unmistakably present – you can’t miss Young in his sleeveless biker jacket. Another composer known for longer than normal tones, Phill Niblock, was also in attendance. And Bunita Marcus, of course, who helped pull the whole thing together.

We arrived very close to show time. The doors were closed behind us, and we were told there would be no leaving the room except during intermission, due to the fact that the performance was being recorded. We took our seats, the lights dimmed, and Aki Takahashi walked on stage to loud applause.

Takahashi bowed, then sat at the piano. The applause quickly fell to silence, and Takahashi sat silent for a moment in preparation. The first piece was “Piano”, written in 1977. I am relatively familiar with the piece from recordings, but a couple of differences in the live performance struck me right away. First, it was apparent that I listen to Feldman’s music way too loud. I guess I knew this on some level, but during the performance it took a while for me to become accustomed to the low dynamics. While “Piano” has more dynamic range than many other Feldman pieces, the extreme quiet of the soft sections made the other noises around me – the coughing and even the breathing of the rest of the audience – much more pronounced. But that is part of the point, isn’t it?

The second thing that struck me in live performance was my anticipation of upcoming notes. In a recording of Feldman’s music, I never really make an attempt to anticipate the notes coming up. This is really great in the longer pieces, because of how Feldman plays with memory – my memory anticipates one thing based on something I heard ten minutes ago, but something else comes up to my surprise, even after I think I know the piece completely. In the live performance, though, I couldn’t help but watch Takahashi’s hands and anticipate the next notes to be played.

I overcame this with the second and last piece of the evening, “For Bunita Marcus,” by closing my eyes. I only thought to do this after I saw Bunita Marcus doing the same thing. I highly recommend this when listening to Feldman compositions live.

According to the program note by Marcus, one of the intentions of including these two particular pieces was to showcase the range of Feldman’s composition for piano. Where “Piano” deals with extremes – in register (or pitch) and in dynamics (or volume) – “For Bunita Marcus” stays in the middle and high registers, and relatively soft. The notes follow each other slowly, and hang in the air. Feldman’s interest in the decay of the sound itself is very apparent in this piece, whereas in “Piano”, there were more sudden stops, quick turns, a feeling of angularity. In “For Bunita Marcus”, the sounds floated about, slowly interacting. I could see why composers such as Young and Niblock, so intensely devoted to long tones and the interactions of sounds themselves, would be moved by this piece.

“For Bunita Marcus” ended to thunderous applause and a standing ovation. It seemed a little odd to have such a delicate, quiet piece end with such loud noise. I wonder what La Monte Young thought of this – at his performances, applause is strictly forbidden. I used to think this was an eccentric quirk, but now I think I get it.

After the applause died down, Bunita Marcus announced the reception on the upper floor. Unfortunately, I was not able to go to the reception after the show. If anyone was able to go, please comment below – I would love to hear what happened.

Both “Piano” and “For Bunita Marcus” were flawlessly performed, as one would expect from Takahashi, who has been playing Feldman’s music for over a quarter century. While I enjoyed the extremes of “Piano”, I loved the performance of “For Bunita Marcus”. In La Monte Young’s words–overheard as he addressed Bunita Marcus after the show, “That was a beautiful piece you inspired.”

by Nathan Bibb
Classical Music, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Music Events, S21 Concert

BETTER THAN SEX—results guaranteed!!!!

Got your attention, right? No, this is not spam.

My piece objects for marimba, piano and electronic organ is going to be premiered at the Sequenza 21 concert on November 20th. The performers will be Hugh Sung (electronic organ), Daniel Beliavsky (piano) and Bill Solomon (marimba). I encountered Hugh through MySpace, and it turns out we both live and work in the Philadelphia area, Hugh being a fantastic pianist at the Curtis Institute of Music and a fellow technologist. We’ve done a podcast together at his studio at Curtis, and I’m delighted he’s participating in this event. Daniel teaches at NYU and is also a composer, while Bill is an expert marimbist in the Hartford, CT area.

objects score

At the time that I was writing objects, I was teaching a college course in computer science; the work’s title comes from a programming construct in which blocks of computer code are organized into reusable units called objects. This is similar to how most of the piece is made up of repetitive, reusable groups of notes and rhythms, and is a feature of most of my music since the early 80’s.

I wrote objects pretty much over a weekend in 1999, although it took me two months to finalize everything. I was playing with three rhythmic fragments on my synthesizer, all in 7/16 time but with the three possible beat structures (3+2+2 vs 2+3+2 vs 2+2+3). Initially I had the keyboard play the patterns back at superhuman speeds, which was pretty interesting, but it was even more interesting when the tempo was slowed down. The entire work resulted largely from these three fragments, and only in two measures does the meter change from 7/16, namely 11/16. I wrote objects for my daughter, Arielle, who was almost four at the time.

objects is a piece that I have always thought of as my most “fun” piece. It’s very accessible, and unlike some of my other music that tends to run an hour or even more than two hours in duration (cantorials, textbook, for philip glass), objects lasts only around 11 minutes.

objects will be the finale of the concert in November, so please don’t leave early (if for no other reason than there will be a really nice party after the concert!). If you need some further convincing about sitting through until the end of the concert, click here…

by David Toub
Classical Music, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Music Events, Philadelphia

Philadelphia Sounds: Fresh Ink at Kimmel Center

The advantage of calling the Kimmel Center’s new music series Fresh Ink is that “fresh” is relative, combining “new” with “refreshing” on this program of music for violin, Jennifer Koh, and piano, Reiko Uchida, ranging from 1942 to the present.
 
“Relax, and leave the driving to us,” John Adams recommends for his 1995 Road Movies. Lively, energetic, light, the piano ground rolls along with violin commentary; repetitive, but with enough variation to be identifiably Adams. But then the ground switches to violin with percussive piano punctuation. When the piano ground returns, it’s almost an old soothing friend, and the commentary has a jazzy swing. The very slow hypnotic second movement has a motif that extends and elongates in a duet. The closing is back to a fast ride with jagged non-stop rhythms.
 
Gyorgy Kurtag pulled together short selections from earlier pieces Signs, Games and Messages for solo violin in 1995. Distilled and intense is how the soloist describes this Romanian composer’s work; I would add short and percussive phrases, and vastly differing moods – violence, sorrow, folk music, dance and classic Bach.
 
In Lou Harrison’s 1998 Grand Duo you hear long echoes of held notes in the piano, under a scalar motif with violin melody above. The “estampe” movement reminded me of the Adams in its ground and cadenza format, but not as user-friendly.  The center movement is a spare and delicate counterpoint, the slow movement is two melodies played simultaneously, and the close is a lively polka that just ate up the bow.
 
Poulenc’s 1942 Violin Sonata references Spanish music in this commemoration of Lorca. The first movement is a rhythmic theme and development with a surprisingly sweet and poignant melody. Poulenc quotes Lorca’s poem “the guitar makes dreams weep” for the second movement and its plucked strings, muted melody and romantic lushness. The presto tragico movement has internal contrasts, minor versus major, serious versus sweet melodies, dense notes versus open space, and a sudden ending.
 
And then we come to the world premiere of String Poetic by Philadelphia composer Jennifer Higdon – five poetic songs based on her own poems – a series of visual impressions: jagged climb, nocturne, blue hills of mist, maze mechanical and climb jagged.  Each of these is a stand-alone work, in particular the ineffably poignant “piece of night – night of peace” Nocturne. Blue Hills of Mist begins so smoothly it seems an extension of the Nocturne, but includes some of the Jagged Climb influence in its increasing drama and grandeur; the plucked string effect in both piano and violin has an Oriental effect that ends in mid-air. Amazing Mechanical explores a maze of speeds without losing its forward momentum, and Climb Jagged reprises the rhythmic opening.
Fresh Ink Series
Kimmel Center
Philadelphia, Pa
October 21, 2006
(Reposted from Penn Sounds 10/26/06)

by Deborah
Composers, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Piano, Uncategorized

Keys to the Future–Notes from the Artistic Director

Keys to the Future is an annual festival of contemporary music for solo piano here in New York City.  This year’s event will take place November 7-9 (Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday) at Greenwich House’s Renee Weiler Concert Hall. If you’re interested in checking out pertinent information, the website is http://www.keystothefuture.org/ or you can contact me directly at joe@keystothefuture.org.

The six pianists participating this year are: Lisa Moore, Blair McMillen, Tatjana Rankovich, Lora Tchekoratova, Polly Ferman, and myself. I thought I’d talk briefly here about the Festival and then focus on one piece from each of the three programs.

My goal as Artistic Director of Keys is to get listeners up to speed on what’s been happening in recent years with solo piano music. This season, the Festival has opened up a bit to include a handful of pieces from the 1970s and 80s. Keys to the Future has embraced the stylistic diversity of the contemporary scene, and you will hear pieces on the same evening of a type that are rarely if ever performed on the same program (for example, a short work by Berio followed by an arrangement of a Radiohead tune on 11/8).

Here’s a look at three of the pieces:

On the first night (Tuesday, 11/7), the brilliant pianist Lisa Moore will perform Henri Dutilleux’s Le Jeu des Contraires (Prelude No. 3) (1989). Here are some notes on the work by Etienne Moreau:

“The piano has been—and continues to be, at age 90—a source of inspiration to Dutilleux, his piano works providing a significant key to the evolution of his aesthetic beliefs. The possibilities in terms of sound offered by its harmonic richness and the diversity of its timbres attract Dutilleux to the instrument.

In Le Jeu the composer has concentrated all his harmonic, rhythmic and acoustic ability, displaying a remarkable mastery of ‘mirror’ writing. This piece seems to represent the very culmination of the musical and sound world of Henri Dutilleux, exemplifying the merging of intelligence and instinct inherent in all his compositions.”

On the second evening (Wednesday, 11/8), I will perform Arvo Pärt’s “Für Alina.”

Pärt composed “Für Alina” in 1976, and this little piece announced – quietly, thoughtfully – the arrival of his “tintinnabuli style.” The music is reminiscent of ringing bells, hence the name. Tintinnabuli works are rhythmically simple, and do not change tempo. It was written originally as a gift for an Estonian girl on her own in London.

On the third evening (Thursday, 11/9), virtuoso Tatjana Rankovich will play Bruce Stark’s “Winged.” Here are some comments on the work by the composer:

“The notion of angels has been a source of musical inspiration to me for years. Often the mere thought of other-worldly, high-energy beings in unseen dimensions brings forth a rush of ideas, as though they were eager to share their cosmic music if only I would turn them a listening ear. Winged is in one movement containing essentially two parts. The first and largest part represents a visitation by angels from invisible worlds, depicted in materials ranging from swirling figures to gentle melodic passages to ecstatic outpourings. After their disappearance, the last part (introduced by a low drone in the bass) represents a reminiscence from the human perspective on having witnessed these wondrous creatures. Here I quote the famous Christmas song Angels We Have Heard On High in fragments, with a slight reference to its “Gloria” section as the work closes.”

I hope you come to one or more of the evenings. It should be fun. Please take a look on Sequenza21.com next Friday for my third and final post.

 

by Joseph Rubenstein
Classical Music, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Festivals, Music Events, Other Minds, San Francisco

Other Minds, Other Places

Our friends at the Other Minds new music community have announced the program for their 12th Other Minds Music Festival and, as usual, it is a dandy.  This year offers a rare opportunity to hear important works by eight of today’s most innovative composers, invited by Other Minds Executive Director and Festival Artistic Director Charles Amirkhanian.

On the program are American premieres from two of contemporary classical world’s elder statesmen, Per Nørgård of Denmark and Peter Sculthorpe of Australia, as well as guest composers Maja Ratkje (Norway), Joëlle Léandre (France), Ronald Bruce Smith (Canada), Daniel David Feinsmith (U.S.), Markus Stockhausen (Germany), and Tara Bouman (Netherlands).

The annual festival begins with three days of private retreat for guest composers, and continues with concerts and panel discussions at the Jewish Community Center, San Francisco, December 8-9-10, 2006.

The dates are Friday, Dec. 8 (8pm); Saturday, Dec. 9 (8pm); and Sunday, Dec. 10 (2pm), 2006, at the Jewish Community Center of San Francisco’s Kanbar Hall, 3200 California St. at Presidio Ave. Panel discussions with composers and performers, hosted by Charles Amirkhanian, begin one hour prior to each concert.  The program is here.

Other places:  Our friend Brian Sacawa, saxophonist extraordinaire, has buffed up his blog, Sounds Like Now, and moved it to a new location.  Go visit.

If this page looks funny to you and you are using a PC, it is probably because you are using Internet Explorer 6 or earlier.  You can fix this problem in about three minutes by going here and downloading and installing IE 7.  It’s free and painless.  (You Mac users are on your own.)

by Jerry Bowles
Classical Music, Composers, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, Music Events, S21 Concert

Sequenza21 Concert: Lawrence Dillon’s “Singing silver”

Third installment of a series of Composer Perspectives previewing the November 20th Sequenza21 Concert.

First of all, many thanks to all the people doing the behind-the-scenes work to make the upcoming Sequenza21 concert happen. It’s a daunting task, bringing all of these disparate voices together. I wonder if concertgoers don’t routinely underestimate the headaches that are hidden behind any successful performance.

I’m very curious to hear the music on this concert, having come to know all of the composers a bit online and not at all in person. But I’m uncertain which pieces I will actually be sitting in the audience for. At some point in the evening, I will be on the stage, performing in the premiere of Singing silver with the International Contemporary Ensemble (ICE).

Scored for narrator, soprano, horn, cello and guitar, Singing silver is my latest attempt to combine words and music in a way that fully satisfies the needs of each. The narrator (me) speaks most of the text, with phrases spinning freely off of specific beats in the score. The soprano (Tony Arnold) echoes some of the text, but more often blends wordlessly with the instruments, acting as a connective sinew between the muscle of poetry and the bone of music.

Similarly, the words of Singing silver are the tissue that connects the person I’ve become with the child I once was. We all have rites of passage; mine took place in an autumn dusk, walking home from school, stepping into a busy street for God knows what reason.

Here is the text:

I was crossing the road on an autumn afternoon when a spark in the pavement caught my eye,
sun low in the sky.
I dropped to the ground on one red knee and peered into the black and gold,
as the day grew old.

Sixteen thousand jewels I found shattering the autumn light,
while the air prepared to greet the night.
Sixteen thousand diamonds calling colors to the sky
Sixteen thousand stars and crowns astounding to the eye

But I knew the ones you’d love.

I will bring them home to show to you.
I will bring them home to give to you.
I will bring them home.

I was crossing the road on an autumn afternoon when a lonely tone caught my ear,
a careful keening, strangely near.
I stopped and listened to the sky, sun angled to my right,
clutching at the night.

Sixteen thousand sounds I found shattering the autumn air,
as the day rolled over in bewildered prayer.
Sixteen thousand fragments tumbling through the atmosphere
Sixteen thousand jangled dreams rebounding in the ear

But I knew the ones you’d love.

I will bring them home to show to you.
I will bring them home to give to you.
I will bring them home.

I was crossing the road on an autumn afternoon when a flash of metal spun me round,
and up off the ground.
I thrust my arms out left and right, sun darting under me,
fleeing westerly.

And then I saw him, sitting near, laughing gently at the blurring cars
Singing silver in my ear, like sixteen thousand dangled stars.
Sixteen thousand silent smiles shining in the mist
Sixteen thousand aspirations dancing in his fist.

And I knew that he would love you.

Come home with me, I have someone to show you.
Come home with me, I have someone to give you
Come home.

by Lawrence Dillon
Composers, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Music Events, Piano

Keys to the Future festival of contemporary piano music

Keys to the Future is a festival of contemporary music for solo piano that began here in New York in 2005. Season 2 takes place November 7-9 (Tues., Wed. and Thurs.) at Greenwich House’s Renee Weiler Concert Hall. (If you haven’t been there, this intimate hall is ideal for listening to piano music.) If you’re interested in checking out pertinent information, the website is http://www.keystothefuture.org/, or you can contact me directly at joe@keystothefuture.org. The six pianists involved are: Lisa Moore, Blair McMillen, Tatjana Rankovich, Lora Tchekoratova, Polly Ferman, and myself. I thought I’d talk briefly here about the Festival and then focus on one piece from each of the three programs.

My goal as Artistic Director of Keys is to get listeners up to speed on what’s been happening in recent years with solo piano music. In 2005, we were fairly rigid about the pieces on the programs being very recent, but this season, the Festival has opened up a bit to include a handful of pieces from the 1970s and 80s. My rationale was that pieces by a great but little-known British composer like Howard Skempton are so rarely performed that, despite the fact that some were composed 25 years ago, they will be as new to most listeners. The Festival has embraced the stylistic diversity of the contemporary scene, and you will hear pieces on the same evening of a type that are rarely if ever performed on the same program (for example, a short work by Berio followed by an arrangement of a Radiohead tune on 11/8).

Now to 3 of the pieces:

On the first night (Tuesday, 11/7), I will play 8 short works by the aforementioned Howard Skempton. These pieces combine minimalism and the English folk tradition, expressed in the form of extremely condensed miniatures, some of which last for less than a minute. Three of the pieces were composed in memoriam: for Cornelius Cardew (“Well well Cornelius”), John Cage (“Of Late”) and Morton Feldman (“Toccata”). I thought rather than start the Festival with a dazzling virtuosic showpiece, I’d begin the Festival with some peaceful, meditative sounds.

On the 2nd evening (Wednesday, 11/8), brilliant pianist Tatjana Rankovich will open the program with Franghiz Ali-Zadeh’s “Music for Piano” (1997). Ali-Zadeh is a native of the former Soviet republic of Azerbaijan whose eloquent music is poised between the Middle East and the modernist West. “Music for Piano” is notable for turning the middle register of the instrument into a stand-in for the “tar,” a long-necked lute played across the Middle East and Central Asia. To accomplish this, Tatjana will prepare the instrument with a beaded necklace over the central portion of the strings inside, as instructed in the score.

On the third evening (Thursday, 11/9), Polly Ferman, the world’s foremost specialist in the piano music of Latin America, will close the program with Osvaldo Golijov’s “Levante: Fantasy on a Chorus from the ‘St. Mark Passion’” (2004). This is Golijov’s first piano work. Based on the eleventh section of his 2001 Passion–a setting of the story of Judas offering to betray Jesus for silver coins–the piece is fired by Latin American dance rhythms. The composer has compared the section to a raucous Cuban meal in which a drunken priest relates the biblical narrative. Interestingly, in the process of transcription to piano, the music morphed from Cuban rhythms to tango.

I hope you come to one or more of the evenings. It should be fun. Please take a look on Sequenza21.com next Friday for my second post.

Joe
Joseph Rubenstein
Artistic Director, Keys to the Future

by Joseph Rubenstein
Boston, Classical Music, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Music Events

Letter from Boston: Keep those hordes away

Achtung!

If you read something contrary here previously, consider this an update. The Lily Pad in Cambridge has been closed temporarily to obtain proper codes and licenses; they hope to re-open soon. Therefore, the Earle Brown FOLIO event scheduled for tomorrow night, Oct. 20, by the Callithumpian Consort will be rescheduled on a future date.

* * * * *

One conclusion that a body might draw from the Callithumpian Consort’s outing last week in Boston is that what some contemporary music needs — and richly deserves — is a near-empty concert hall.

No, seriously. Would Earle Brown’s “Sign Sounds” and John Luther Adams’s “songbirdsongs” have been anywhere near as atmospheric if the New England Conservatory’s Jordan Hall had been — sickening thought — full? Ah we happy few, all forty (40) of us.

The point comes up because of the way that “songbirdsongs” in particular relies, first, on silence, both in itself and as background; and second, on space, not just in the sense of there being a sort of aerating nimbus around the sounding notes (i.e., good acoustics) but room enough, measured in linear feet, for a pair of piccolo players to go wandering about inside and outside the auditorium making like birds.

These weren’t Messiaen birds, they were Adams birds. A nice thing about an Adams bird, if one can generalize, is that if it feels like modulating a bit that’s what it will do — just a little. And that’s as far in the direction of grandiosity as they ever get. Jordan Hall being three storeys high and with lots of doors to enter and depart from, there was a blessed abundance of perches.

So described, “songbirdsongs” might have you wondering about what’s been helpfully labeled the Cringe Factor. Yes, the titles that the piece’s sections bear — “Morningfield Song,” “Apple Blossom Round,” “Wood Thrush,” “Joyful Noise,” “notquitespringdawn,” “Mourning Dove,” “Meadowdance,” “August Voices” — do suggest a New Agey niceness that will not appeal to all tastes. And there were moments when you felt the composer was really pushing it (must all this be so calm, sparse, and Alpha-wavey?) but then what should land on us but an expertly timed, shock-cut, irruptive coup de theatre — so that’s what all those percussionists were on hand for.

Forget about the Cringe Factor then. Cumulatively, there turned out to be a much greater variety of tone color and strategy in “songbirdsongs” than might first have appeared. Examples: the quiet vibraphone roll teetering on the edge of audibility — you had to crane to see where it was coming from — that produced the oddest, near-electronic sort of hum; “Mourning Dove,” with its literalist sighing bent notes; the “Apple Blossom Round”; and the noisy bits, which in this context had the feel of natural disturbances.

How much of this sort of thing is too much? Reactions will differ, but evidently not a very great deal. “Relaxing but not insignificant” (John Schaefer) is one take on Adams’s music, “You either love it or like it” (Evan Johnson) another.

Finally, a matter we’re not exactly sure that the composer consciously intended. Toward the end of “songbirdsong,” as event placidly succeeded event, your reviewer became aware of a steady, silent pulse beneath it all — something like 50 ticks to the minute. The instrumental attacks were variously on or to either side of the pulse, but mostly on. It was there, wasn’t it? Or was it the brain that was supplying it? Or both?

The performers, excellent all, were: Nana Aomori, Jessi Rosinski (piccolos), Jeffrey Means. George Nickson, Joseph LaPalomento, Daniel Zawodniak (percussion), Stephen Olsen (celesta), Gabriel Diaz (violin).

* * * * *

Earle Brown’s “Sign Sounds,” which mobilized some 18 players plus conductor, raised certain questions if you thought about them as the music was going on, but somehow didn’t if you didn’t. The questions would have been: What, precisely, is in that score, and of what kind and how much, and did it matter?

It’s irresistible to quote Paul Griffiths, that indefatigible and learned pro, on the subject of Brown’s music:

“His aim was not the empty space of Cage, nor the quiet space of Feldman, but the decisive object — not the extinction of the composer, nor the liberation of the performer, but the creation of a well-made piece, one that would have a sure identity for all the variability of form and detail introduced by means of indeterminate notation. The more indeterminate the notation, the more the identity of the piece would have to be visual …”

— “Modern Music and After: Directions Since 1945” (Oxford University Press, 1995).

In this particular performance of “Sign Sounds” there was a sense of the piece being assembled and set up out of blocks of air, right there in front of you — and in that loveliest of musical work places, Jordan Hall. How everything did sound — the sprinklings of celesta, some very in-tune string harmonics, the lyre-like punctuations of the harp, a swinging brass choir, and the quartet of mallet-wielding percussionists who, when the texture allowed, created one doozey of a great splash (like New York Modernist flung paint? Just a thought.)

Near-stasis then a flutter of activity — it was at these extremes, it seemed, that all these colorful sonic possibilities were being realized. At one point a series of staggered entrances had you listening for, of all things, a fugue. A fugue! But shouldn’t ghostly traces of such things be appearing in Brown? His worklist does include after all, though from early on, a fugue and a passacaglia.

In any event, the piece went over like you wouldn’t believe (40 pairs of hands clapping, all belonging to the right people), and there was an encore: a fragment of what had gone before, sounding pretty much as we’d heard it the first time.

The heroes and heroines of this performance were: Jessi Rosinski (flute), Will Amsel (clarinet), Amy Advocat (bass clarinet), Adam Smith (bassoon), Andrew Stetson (trumpet), Dylan Chmura-Moore (trombone), Hester Ham (piano), Minji Noh (celesta), Franziska Huhn (harp), Ethan Wood and Heather Wittels (violins), Ashleigh Gordon (viola) David Huckaby (cello), David Goodchild (bass), Jeffrey Means, John Andress, Joseph Becker, William Holden (percussion) and Stephen Drury (conductor).

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First on the program was Alvin Lucier’s “Ever Present,” which as a late arriver (accursed Harvard/Dudley bus) we were reduced to experiencing from outside one of the windowed doors leading in to the auditorium. The flutist, sax player, and pianist all looked quite at peace with themselves, not having very many notes to play and perhaps for other reasons as well. Anyway, we didn’t hear any. But wait, was it the overhead lighting in the corridor that was giving off that high-pitched technological noise? Or ventilation gone haywire? No, silly, it was one of Lucier’s beloved electric gizmos.

RICHARD BUELL can be reached at rbuell@verizon.net

by Richard Buell