“I’m sitting on a galaxy. Stars and moons blanket the deep red spa chairs. I rest on constellations. Space itself supports me. Luna lifts me.”
Thus begins Anna Heflin’s debut recording, which encompasses a spoken word play, sound art, and string duets filled with secundal dissonances and sustained drones. Heflin acknowledges a debt to Mozart in the violin/viola duo textures of the music, as well as to Bartôk’s own dissonant writing, but these touchstones do not encompass the variety of microtones and the scratching textures that are brought to bear in her music. The spoken word interludes range from the spaciness in the above quote to more mundane questions about everyday life. The Redundancy of the Angelic is an unusual assemblage, but a quite compelling one.
Claire Rousay
A Softer Focus
American Dreams Records
Claire Rousay creates sound collages that combine spoken word, ambient sounds, and warm synths. Place making is a central issue of A Softer Focus, her latest recording on American Dreams. Crackling street noise in “Preston Avenue” introduces us to Rousay’s varied sound world. It is followed by a contrasting track of sumptuous minimal synths on “Discrete (the Market).” “Peak Chroma” (video below) draws out a minor chord, successively adding overtones and a mournful melody. Eventually, the harmony progresses, with each chord is given a weighty presence corroscated by fragmentary speech samples. “Diluted Dreams” alternates sounds of children at play and traffic noises with minimal repetitions and extended held tones. Altered vocals and industrial percussion populate “Stoned Gesture.” “A Kind of Promise” closes the recording with glacially paced piano and cello (with spoken word around the edges). An enthralling listen.
“Peak Chroma’ is one of two tracks on a softer focus featuring sung lyrical content. The lyrics for it started as an iPhone Notes entry. This entry was a reminder to not fall into traps of nostalgia and the second-guessing that sometimes follows that. Reminiscing on something that not only is in the past but is something that is never coming back.” – Claire Rousay
Stephanie Cheng Smith inhabits sound sculptures of two different varieties for the extended compositions on her latest A Wave Press release Forms. The first, “Birds,” uses b-z-bowls, which the composer describes as, “an instrument of suspended, vibrating plastic bowls that are filled with and muted by various objects (i.e. bells, balls, beads, clips, and cups).” B-z-bowls create a plethora of textures, from subtle shakes to swaths of white noise, and Cheng Smith does an excellent job using these deliberately restricted means with artful pacing. “Fish” is for violin, dark energy synthesizer (!), and laptop. It was performed within Anja Weiser Flower’s “Cosm, Organization-Construction, Second Instance” at Human Resources Los Angeles. Thus, the performance occurs within an artwork, using it both as an acoustic and aesthetic site. Thrumming, serrated synths against an insistent bass drone accompany violin harmonics and glissandos. This texture is replaced by bubbling percussion and short wave style distortions in an extended middle section. Gears shifting in grinding gestures signal a final section in which the electronics begin to spin out, joined by upper register scratched violin textures. The registral spectrum is filled out with muscular noise envelopes down a couple octaves from the main fray, only to have the top drop out and the bass register plumbed with muscularity. A denouement of progressively spaced out static attacks followed by an oscillating third on dark synth concludes the piece. The album title points out one of the most compelling aspects of Cheng Smith’s compositions: their unerring formal designs.
Matt Sargent
Tide
Erik Carlson, violin; T.J. Borden, cello
The first iteration of “Tide” was in 2015 for double bassist Zach Rowden, who overdubbed a ten instrument cluster of sustained notes and pealing harmonics. The composer, Matt Sargent, fed sine tones to Rowden while he played, each one exhorting him to match it in realt time, creating an evolving of upper register harmonics. The current release captures two new versions of the piece, both for higher instruments and correspondingly more stratospheric results. The first is for ten overdubbed violins and ten overdubbed cellos. The two instruments’ span of harmonics interact, creating a texture that is sometimes gritty and at others glassine. The second version is for ten violins. Its shimmering harmonics are offset by downward glissandos that provide a counterweight to the altissimo highs. Both new versions of Tide supply significant and intriguing diversity within prevailing sonic density.
Taylor Brook
Star Maker Fragments
Tak Ensemble: Laura Cocks, flute; Madison Greenstone, clarinet; Marina Kifferstein, violin; Charlotte Mundy, voice; Ellery Trafford, percussion;
Taylor Brook, electronics
Star Maker Fragments is a setting by Taylor Brook of fragments from Olaf Stapledon’s 1937 novel Star Maker. A history of billions of years and an early example of multiverse theories, Star Maker is one of the most ambitious early science fiction books and remained influential for generations. The ensemble and Brook create a suitably interstellar landscape, one that encompasses extended techniques and sounds both lush and at times akin to the bleeps on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. It is left to vocalist Charlotte Mundy to carry the narrative components of Star Maker Fragments forward, which she persuasively does through spoken word and singing. One of the most imaginative sections of the piece is “Musical Universe,” which in the book is depicted as a universe that contains only music and no physical space. Tak and Brook respond to this prompt in a rapturous vein. Brook is an abundantly creative composer to watch.
Grand Piano Records, a Naxos recording label, has released Music for Piano XL, a CD premiere of experimental music by Alvin Lucier performed by award-winning French pianist Nicolas Horvath. Music for Piano XL extends Horvath’s exploration of contemporary composition that has featured works by Philip Glass, Dennis Johnson and Karlheinz Stockhausen as well as the piano music of Erik Satie and Claude Debussy. Lucier’s Music for Piano with Slow Sweep Pure Wave Oscillator XL is the formal title of the single track on this CD, and it is exactly that, with a duration slightly over an hour. Horvath writes that the listening experience is “immersive, intense and enigmatic…”
Alvin Lucier (b 1931) is an American who is noted for incorporating acoustical phenomena as an integral part of his compositions. Perhaps his best known work is I am Sitting in a Room, from 1969. in which a recording of those words is played and re-recorded in a large open room. With each recorded iteration, the sounds of the words are rounded off as the acoustic of the room imposes and reinforces its characteristic resonances. Eventually, a sort of ghostly image of tones is all that remains, stripped of intelligibility but filled with a deep sense of introspection.
Auditory perception forms another important aspect of Luciers work. In these pieces, the listener is often surprised and enlightened by the differences between the sound heard by the ear and the perception formed by the brain. I once attended Lucier’s Outlines of Persons and Things (1975), a sound installation that projected a pure electronic tone from two strategically placed speakers in a reverberant acoustic space. Listeners were invited to walk through the space, altering the intensity and deflecting flow of the sound waves in the room. Special objects were also placed in fixed locations to scatter or focus the sounds bouncing off the walls and people. The result was that the electronic pitch and volume varied according to the position of the listener and in many places the differences over just a few feet were startling.
Lucier’s compositions for conventional instruments also incorporate acoustic phenomena, as Frank J. Oteri writes in the liner notes:
“Given Lucier’s fascination with the impact of resonance on various sonorities, it should be no surprise that many of his compositions featuring conventional musical instruments involve a piano. Curiously, though his music defies conventional concepts of melody, harmony, and rhythm and often explores intervals not easily produced on a keyboard, Lucier frequently composes at the piano in his home, sometimes listening intently to the sonic envelope of single tones as he strikes them over and over.”
Music for Piano with Slow Sweep Pure Wave Oscillator XL represents one of Lucier’s furthest inquiries into the idea that purely acoustic phenomena can sustain and propel a performance piece. The striking of a piano string combined with clean electronic tones gives rise to a variety of interactions and ‘beating’ when the pitches are closely matched. This composition is informed entirely by the character of these interactions – how they arise, persist and decay. The XL version on this CD was created specifically for Nicolas Horvath and has been expanded to over an hour from the original 15 minutes. This was recorded on one take, with the pianist having to continuously evaluate the sounds after striking each precisely notated keystroke and making suitable adjustments in timing or volume as the piece proceeds. The electronic oscillator continuously produces two tones that sweep over a range of four octaves and the distilled purity of these sounds is always in stark contrast to the warmer tones of the piano notes.
So how does all this sound? Music for Piano with Slow Sweep Pure Wave Oscillator XL opens with a steady electronic tone, establishing a clean, almost antiseptic ambiance. A single piano note is soon heard, followed by another, and these seem to be related in pitch to the electronics. This music requires close listening and it is only after a few piano notes are heard that the interactions with the electronic tones become conspicuous to the ear. The piano notes are heard in different registers to match changes in the electronic tones, with the lower tones often producing the most prominent beating interactions. The piano notes start singularly at first and are allowed to fully ring out. As the piece proceeds, two or more piano notes are occasionally heard together, and their interactions with each other – and with the electronics – create a new class of acoustic effects. There is no musical form, structure or melody in the playing, just a series of continuous electronic tones and separately sustained piano notes.
The intensity of the electronics seems to vary over the course of the piece, sometimes in the forefront and sometimes more like a background accompaniment. Similarly, Horvath varies the striking force on the piano keyboard to produce a note that will intersect with the electronics for maximum effect. When the electronics are the most dominant, the brain tries to reconcile the purity of the electronic pitch with the more familiar timbre of the piano. As the sounds interact, they tend to overlap and blur the differences so that the listener is left to decide if it is a sterile tone or a musical note that is being heard. The act of determining and evaluating one’s acoustic perception makes this an engaging and instructive work.
The piano notes and the electronics often change register, moving around between low, middle and higher pitches. Sometimes there is little or no observable interaction between the notes and tones. Often the lower registers produce the most perceptible beating, creating almost a rumble. When several piano notes are sounded together against a closely pitched electronic tone, a more complex series of interactions often results. In general, when the electronic tones and piano notes are both strong – and close in pitch – the interactions are most pronounced. But this falls along a wide spectrum of possibilities, seemingly different for each new combination of pitch and force. Towards the finish of the piece, a wobbly higher tone is heard softly accompanied by piano notes. The piano notes then cease while the electronic tone continues on for last two minutes, finally slowing and fading out at the finish.
Listening to Music for Piano with Slow Sweep Pure Wave Oscillator XL often feels like being in an acoustic experiment, but the listener soon learns to focus and evaluate each combination of notes and tones. The result is a better appreciation of how sounds and music are perceived, and what choices the brain must make to determine the dominant character of what is heard. This performance by Nicolas Horvath is disciplined and precise, providing just the right touch for the piano notes under each acoustic condition. Music for Piano with Slow Sweep Pure Wave Oscillator XL will surely add to Horvath’s reputation as a leading interpreter of the most unusual experimental forms in contemporary music.
The search for ways to deliver new music to audiences during the pandemic continues, and on December 15, 2020, Music For Your Inbox inaugurated a promising subscription system for distributing video links via email. For Percussion Perhaps, Or… (night) (1971), by James Tenney was their initial offering and viewers were invited to subscribe or purchase tickets by December 10th, and receive the video link on the 15th. The performance by Stephanie Cheng Smith and Liam Mooney was previously recorded, available for viewing later at multiple times. In addition, subscribers were appropriately sent an original print postcard by dance pioneer Simone Forti, a good friend of Tenney.
James Tenney (1934 – 2006) although not widely known, was clearly one of the most influential composers of the late 20th century. He attended several academic institutions, including Julliard and the University of Illinois and studied composition with Carl Ruggles, Kenneth Gaburo, John Cage, Harry Partch, and Edgard Varèse, among others. Tenney was eventually associated in some way with most of the composers active in the late 20th century. His musical interests were wide-ranging and often crossed disciplines in an ever-expanding exploration of the experimental. He taught at a number of institutions but is perhaps best remembered for his time at CalArts. Some of his many students include John Luther Adams, Michael Byron, Peter Garland, Ingram Marshall, Larry Polansky, Charlemagne Palestine, Marc Sabat, Catherine Lamb, Michael Winter, and Daniel Corral.
For Percussion Perhaps, Or… (night) is one of Tenney’s postal pieces. He was apparently averse to writing letters to his friends about his music and instead sent them postcards, each with a score inscribed on the back. There are eleven of these and For Percussion Perhaps, Or… (night), was dedicated to Harold Budd – making this video all the more poignant given Budd’s recent passing. The score for this piece, as with the others in the series, is necessarily brief. The instructions are simply “very soft… very long… nearly white…”, leaving much to the interpretation of the performer.
The program notes state that Stephanie Cheng Smith, herself a composer “…sets a table with everyday objects— bowls and marbles — then sends them into motion to build a celestial sonic world.” There were no conventional acoustic instruments used in this performance but rather a collection of metal cups, jar lids and delicate ceramic bowls. A marble was placed inside a container, which was then set swirling around by the performer to create a sound. A thick plate framed by metal formed a base upon which the items were placed when activated. When the marble came to rest and the sound ceased, a new item took its place. Ms. Smith and percussionist Liam Mooney continuously added various new sounds in different combinations as the piece proceeded.
For Percussion Perhaps, Or… (night) opened with a single small metal cup that produced a soft swishing sound when energized. When the cup was placed on the base plate, the volume increased and the sound became more sharply metallic as the marble slowed to a stop. More metal cups were applied singly, and then a metal jar lid was added at the same time as another small metal cup. The two sounds were somewhat different – with the jar lid having a somewhat lower register – and the two metallic sounds mixed into an intriguing combination. The jar lid was placed on the outer edge of the base plate and its rolling sounds seemed to explode in volume. Small cups placed on the edge were similarly amplified and the sounds became a continuous stream as more items were added simultaneously.
The jar lids and metal cups were soon joined by small china bowls that rang with a clear tone when the marble was set rolling inside it. When two bowls of different sizes were activated together the two pitches were heard in harmony. This had the effect of adding a musical component to the piece that set off the mostly mechanical sounds of the cups and lids. All three of these elements were added in various combinations so that the overall sound was a pleasant ringing above the purposeful metallic rolling. The number of active items increased as the piece proceeded with the sounds filling the ear. Just at the top of this swelling crescendo a deep rumbling sound was heard, produced by percussionist Mooney rolling a ball in a large metal pot. The distinctively low register formed a sort of bass line to what was now an pleasantly ringing melody. The sounds of the bowls and cups gradually subsided and the rolling bass eventually emerged as a solo. The piece concluded with a quiet whisper from one of the smaller metal cups.
Ms. Smith’s choice of percussion elements for this piece was inspired – the rolling metallic sounds provided the ‘nearly white’ element called for in the score and the ringing bowls served to reinforce this. All the sounds were subdued in an absolute sense, with only limited changes in dynamics. The changes in texture as different items were applied to the base plate served to provide a sense of movement as the piece went along. The gradual swelling and decrescendo over the 18 minute duration of the piece was in keeping with some of Tenney’s other postal pieces.
The audio of the performance was of a high quality and did not seem to mask any of the subtle details in the sounds. The accompanying instructions to the video recommended listening with headphones, and this was a wise precaution given the acoustics of typical computer speakers. The video focused on the items and not the performers and was close enough for the viewer to see how the sounds were being created. The entire performance was, appropriately, dedicated to Harold Budd, as was the original 1971 score.
For Percussion Perhaps, Or… (night) was a successful realization of a piece that requires great imagination by the performers. Everything came together nicely both technically and artistically for this first Music For Your Inbox production. Two new video performances are scheduled for January and February.
For Percussion Perhaps, Or… (night) will be available until January 31st to new subscribers and may be purchased as a gift here.
Personnel for this concert are:
Stephanie Cheng Smith, realization & percussion Liam Mooney, percussion Simone Forti, art print postcard Carlos Mosquera, recording & balance engineer Ian Byers-Gamber, video Middle Ear Project, concert design
Pianist Philip Thomas is a prolific artist. A member of Apartment House, he recently participated in their recording of Ryoko Akama’s compositions for Another Timbre. Also on Another Timbre is Thomas’s gargantuan CD set of piano music by Morton Feldman, which includes several previously unreleased pieces.
Two of the pianist’s other recent projects focus on other members of the New York School. His deep dive into Cage’s Concert for Piano (again with Apartment House) has resulted in a book, recording, and an interactive online project, Cageconcert (cageconcert.org) that also includes apps to work with segments of the piece and make one’s own versions. He has also released a recording of Christian Wolff’s piano music. Finally, Thomas has recorded a CD of composer-pianist Chris Burn’s work, including transcriptions of improvisations by the late guitarist (and author of one of the key books on improvisation) Derek Bailey. As the interview below demonstrates, Thomas’s performance and recording schedule shows no signs of let-up. (Note: Philip and I talked before the pandemic, so some of his future projects are now TBA).
How did you and
Martin Iddon come to collaborate on a book about Cage’s Concert for Piano
(1957-’58)? Were the book and recording in process before the website and apps
were conceived or was the idea of multiple presentations part of the initial
concept?
This goes back a long
way! I had it in my thoughts that, having performed the piece a number of
times, with Apartment House but also with others, including the Merce
Cunningham Dance Company for the dance ‘Antic Meet’, it was a far richer piece
than had perhaps history had credited it. It’s such a well-known piece, not
least from its visual appearance, and its historic performance value has
influenced what we think of as a Cage-ian performance practice. Plus the
premiere performance and recording is notorious from its depiction on the
Twenty-Fifth Retrospective Concert album. But I felt strongly that there was
much that is not more widely known when digging a little deeper, both about the
way it can be performed, about the graphic notations of the ‘Solo for Piano’,
and about the instrumental and conductor parts. And I was aware that
performance as both historical and contemporary practice has a lot to say about
the music, not least because of the unusually long time one has to spend with
the piano part in order to arrive at something which is playable. So I set to
thinking about this as a major research project and immediately thought of
Martin as being an ideal collaborator, particularly due to his brilliant book
about Cage and Tudor, as well as his Darmstadt book. So over lunch in London
one day we dreamt up the project, which over the following year developed and
formed to include the book, the website and apps, as well as the involvement of
Apartment House. Then there was the inevitable long wait until we found out our
grant application was successful. The grant was for a 3-year project but
inevitably aspects of that spill over into the months since – and I’ve just now
finished the index for the book! The apps grew from a simple idea that we
thought might be nice to a far more complex concept than any of us could have
imagined, forming a vital part of the project. The team expanded to include two
research assistants, Emily Payne and Chris Melen – Chris being the developer of
the Solo for Piano app – with additional help from others, including Stuart
Mellor who designed the Concert Player app.
As a pianist who
specializes in experimental music, Concert for Piano seems like a natural work
to explore from multiple vantage points. When did you first become acquainted
with the piece, and what does it mean to you as an interpreter?
I’ve mostly played it
with Apartment House. I think possibly the earliest occasion was in 2008 when I
organised a 50th anniversary concert
of the 25-year retrospective concert. My experience then was as it continues to
be, that this is an exceptionally rich and lively piece, full of surprises, and
one which is a total joy to perform – each moment is alive and fresh, and my
experience as a performer is of being part of music being made, rather than
something which is ‘re-played’. We don’t rehearse, everyone works on their own
materials, and then it’s put together, so for everyone playing the experience
is as new as it is for the audience. This is true of many pieces by Cage of
course, but this piece seems to heighten those senses and the material is so
exaggerated in its range here – noises, pitches, highs and lows, louds and
softs, etc.
The website and apps
provided detailed and varied material from Concert. Will you share with us some
of the features you consider to be highlights?
There’s so much
there, a few of my favourite things include:
Interviews with
Apartment House – I love to hear the musicians of Apartment House talk about
what they do. These interviews are brimming with insight. I especially like the
films which combine their different insights, such as the ‘Performing the
Concert’
film and the last 10 minutes of the conductor film.
Watching the films of
our performances of the ‘Concert’ and also Christian Wolff’s ‘Resistance’ is a particular
thrill, because, as I suggested above, there’s so much unknown in the
performance itself that it’s great to get a stronger sense of the kinds of
things the other musicians are doing.
This one is not yet
on the website but will be appearing very soon – I have made a studio recording
of the complete ‘Solo for Piano’, which has never been done. It’s completely
different from the version I play with Apartment House – for this I recorded
each notation individually, according to a space time measurement of 3 minutes
per page, and then Alex Bonney has mapped them together like a patchwork quilt,
to get a complete 3 hours and 9 minutes performance of the Solo. You can hear
it now actually on the Concert Player app as it’s this recording which we use
for the app.
For the uninitiated person
finding this on the web, what do you think they apps will demonstrate to them?
I hope firstly that
it’ll just be a great entry into the music – that this is music people play and
love to play, and is really great to play, instead of perhaps either that it is
too ‘far-out’ or obfuscatory, or, the flip-side, that it is entirely open and
‘free’! For users trying out the Solo for Piano app, I hope it’ll both be a
great way of playing with the notations and their conditions for performance,
to see what might be possible and conversely what is not possible with each,
and to play with the multiple possibilities the notation offers; and that it
will also be an aid to performance. Of course each pianist will want to try it
out in their own way, but at the least I hope that for some notations this will
be a time-saver, offering possibilities to randomly generate multiple outcomes
and to print them off in usable formats. An obvious criticism of the app is
that it removes the fun of working these things out yourself – I think it
manages to keep the fun of playing with each notation, whilst cutting down on
the work needed to write these things out. And we’ve been careful to always
show where and how we’ve made interpretative decision when others might make
other choices, so it’s clear that this is both a facility AND an
interpretation.
And then the Concert
player app is simply a delight to hear – there are 16,383 possible instrumental
combinations of this piece, and we have a handful of recordings available.
Clearly, a recording of a work such as this can only hint at the slightest
possibility of how this piece may sound. But the app allows users to randomly
generate or select combinations, plus select pages, their durations, their
sequence, and then hear how that might sound. We’ve taken great care to ensure
the space-time properties of the music are upheld (measuring by the pixel!) and
so really this is a pretty accurate – no matter how inappropriate that word is
to this piece!! – realisation. I still listen to it regularly and am surprised
all the time by the combinations. It’s a thrill, so I hope people will just
dive in.
You have been
performing Morton Feldman’s music for over a quarter century. Still, the
recording you did for Another Timbre last year was a mammoth undertaking. How
long did it take to record? How do you keep so much detailed, long repertoire,
with irregular repetitions, in your brain and fingers?
Somehow it didn’t
feel like a mammoth task, more like a real pleasure to play these pieces again.
Perhaps surprisingly, I didn’t feel any kind of pressure to give a ‘definitive’
statement on the music – my performances on disc just happen to be a
representation of how I play this music today, after many years of thinking
about and playing it. If I were to record it all again in 10 years it may be
quite different, who knows? It was though a particular pleasure to discover a
few pieces that I hadn’t played before, namely the unpublished works I explored
at the Sacher Foundation in Basel, and the transcription I made of the Lipton
film music.
I recorded the music
over a period of about 2 years, in different sessions. It’s funny how the music
at times just sticks in terms of fingering, rhythmic detail, whilst at other
times what should be very familiar to me still seems strange. Certainly,
whereas I thought this project might draw a line in the sand for me – no more
Feldman! – I feel it’s done the opposite, opened up more possibilities, more
ways of thinking about the music. In particular, Triadic Memories, which
I’ve probably played more often than any other single piece of music, changed a
great deal for me in preparation for the recording and what I thought I knew
now feels more experimental, more curious, than ever. There’s a part of me that
sometimes tries to avoid Feldman’s music – it’s almost too gorgeous at times,
and I need to find something else, something of rougher hue, but those chords
keep pulling me back! Thankfully, there’s so much more to the music than just
beautiful sonorities, and in particular the music’s form and narrative feels to
me to be so strikingly original.
Are there surprises
among the previously unrecorded pieces?
Certainly, the
addition of struck drum and glass to the Feldman sound is pretty surprising,
bringing to mind much more the 1940s music by Cage, and here included as part
of a set of three pieces composed for the dance. In fact there’s a surprising
number of pieces composed for dance collaborations, not just for Cunningham,
but also for Merle Mersicano, as Ryan Dohoney has written about in considerable
detail recently. One of these is Figure of Memory which sounds nothing like
Feldman and more like some kind of sketch of a Satie piece, consisting simply
of repetitions of three short phrases.
Another recent
release is of music by Chris Burn, including a transcription of an
improvisation by Derek Bailey. How does that translate to the piano?
Well Chris is a
wonderful wonderful composer, and a brilliant pianist and improviser. And so he
is fully aware of the slightly perverse nature of what he was doing in writing
these pieces, not least as someone who used to play with Bailey. But these
pieces are not just really lovely pieces of music, but they also reveal
something about Chris and how he hears and thinks of music, as well as being
revealing of Bailey’s own work, and in particular of his love of Webern and his
close attention to pitch. So when the guitar-ness of the pieces is removed a
different side to Bailey’s music is revealed which is simply different but to
my ears no less remarkable.
As if 2019 weren’t
busy enough for you, a compendium of Christian Wolff’s piano music was released
on Sub Rosa. In the notes you say that “In all my performances of Wolff’s
music, I aim for interpretations that both interest and surprise me, allowing
the notations to lead me to new ways of playing and thinking about music,
whilst at
the same time trying
to lead the notations toward the unexpected.” When discussing the piano music
with Wolff, what were some insights he offered? What piece will most likely
surprise listeners?
The recent double
disc follows on from an earlier three-disc set, and hopefully precedes another
three-disc set to follow. Christian’s music is, when it comes down to it, the
music I feel closest to. I love the potential for change, for surprise, for
play. On the whole I tend not to ‘collaborate’ with composers (I trust them to
do what they do well and then it’s over to me) and so I love the moment when I
begin a new piece, I put it up on the piano and I start to think ‘ok so what am
I going to do with this’. This is where I am at my most creative, and
Christian’s music works especially well to that effect. I’ve never asked him
for his approval of what I do and most often he doesn’t hear my interpretations
until after I’ve performed or recorded it. Though the very first time we met,
in 2002, I played ‘Bread and Roses’ to him, waited for his response, and learnt
fairly quickly that his typical response was ‘Sure!’. He tends not to validate
not to denigrate peoples’ performances of his music and I appreciate that. He
doesn’t want to say ‘yes, this is how it should be played’ preferring instead
for the individuality of the player to find new solutions, new ways of playing.
And so I do hope with each performance I give of his music that I might offer
something that would surprise him, that might suggest possibilities in his
music which he’d not considered.
In this recent set
I’ve included a few pieces which are not published, so that surprised him too!
So three variations on Satie, pieces he composed for John Tilbury, which he
never quite convinced himself as worth publishing but hopefully he’s convinced
now they’re out on disc – they’re wonderfully eccentric pieces. Also his
Incidental Music, which he has played and recorded (wonderfully, on Mode) but
which he’d not heard anyone else perform. He was delighted, so that’s great.
And for anyone familiar with Wolff’s music I hope that my playing brings both
recognition and surprise too.
What will be your
next recording/recital? What will Apartment House be up to in 2020?
Next concert, in Cambridge in April, features a brand-new piece that Toronto-based composer Allison Cameron is writing for me, which I’m delighted about. And Simon Reynell’s always dreaming up new ideas and introducing me to younger composers and I’m always happy to play a small part in that project. And as a result of the Feldman release we’ve been able to commission one of my very favourite composers, Martin Arnold, to write a large-scale new piece for me. But that won’t be for a while. Lots of ideas, lots of pieces I want to play, but actually I’m hoping for a bit of a quieter year this year!
Christian
Carey is a composer, performer, musicologist, and writer. His work has been
published in Perspectives of New Music, Intégral, Open Space, Tempo, Musical
America, Time Out New York, Signal to Noise, Early Music America, Sequenza 21,
Pop Matters, All About Jazz, and NewMusicBox. Carey’s research on
narrativity in late music by Elliott Carter, presented at IRCAM in Paris on the
composer’s 100th birthday, appears in Hommage à Elliott Carter (Editions
Delatour). He is Associate Professor of Composition, History, and Theory at
Westminster Choir College in Princeton, New Jersey.
Though our decade technically has another year to go, the marketing appeal of “Hits of the XXs” type formulations tends to overwhelm such semantic niceties. So as we leave the 2010s behind, there’s more than a little Web-based generalization to be found regarding their musical character and trajectory. I’ll try to keep things in perspective as I review some of the highlights of 2019 that embody the breadth and caliber of contemporary Western art music. All of the following selections are available via fixed media or on demand, and many have been featured on Radio Eclectus.
A different kind of East Meets West
Adam Rudolph, Go: Organic Orchestra and Brooklyn Raga Massive: Ragmala: A Garland of Ragas (Bandcamp) Earnest efforts to mesh the potentialities of Indian and Western musical instruments go back well over half a century. Ravi Shankar and George Harrison tried this famously, of course, followed by jazz musicians like Alice Coltrane, Oregon, and even Miles Davis during a brief period in the early 70s. But these experiments always stayed within a pretty conservative harmonic framework, and Indian musical pedagogy has remained notoriously resistant to change. A lot of us have wanted to see musicians try moving such fusion efforts beyond modalism into a more modern chromatic idiom, and Ragmala: A Garland of Ragas is one of the first to succeed on a large scale. Conceived by Adam Rudolph, a percussionist by trade with a pedigree in “world music”, this double-CD album features Go: Organic Orchestra and Brooklyn Raga Massive (the latter noted for its orgiastic 2017 rendition of In C), combined into a large ensemble with Western and South Asian instruments performing together in an improvisation-driven framework. It’s in tracks like Wandering Star or Ascent to Now that this pungent overtone-rich instrumentarium is most effectively deployed in service of dissonant drones and polytonal soloing
Land of Kush: Sand Enigma (Bandcamp) Similar in concept is the Arab-influenced free improv music of Land of Kush, the band led by Egyptian-Canadian musician Sam Shalabi. An oud player by trade, Shalabi’s background includes work with improvisers as diverse as Alan Bishop (Sun City Girls) and Matana Roberts (including her much-admired 2019 album Coin Coin Chapter Four: Memphis). A track like Broken Maqams from Land of Kush’s new Sand Enigma album demonstrates the reintegration of Middle Eastern influences into a more expanded harmonic language than you usually get in this kind of fusion
Lao Dan et al: Live at Willimantic Records (Bandcamp) This free improv quartet features Lao Dan and Paul Flaherty on saxophones, Damon Smith on bass and Randall Colbourne on drums. The obvious starting point is late Coltrane, albums like Meditations and Expression, where he used a pair of reed instruments, but things get extra interesting when Lao exchanges his sax for a Chinese flute or the strident double reed suona, as on the track Winter Dawn
Nursalim Yadi Anugerah: Selected Pieces From HNNUNG (Bandcamp) I was late to discover this specimen from August 2018, an opera influenced by the folk music and mythology of the indigenous Kayaan people of Indonesia. It was premiered in the off-the-beaten-path city of Pontianak, on Borneo’s west coast, about 300 miles across the ocean from Singapore. Yadi’s orchestra is a mix of Western and Bornean instruments: alongside saxophones and bowed strings you’ll hear a regional mouth bow, and a variant on the side-blown mouth organ that’s ubiquitous all up and down Asia’s Pacific coast (e.g. the sheng in China and the shō in Japan). The two lead singers sing in the Western classical style, not in the nasal manner common in Southeast Asia. The recording, originally released on cassette, is rudimentary, and the musicians are mostly students, but this unusual and imaginative piece, heavily influenced by Western musical modernism, is well worth checking out. A video introduction and interview with the composer is available on YouTube
Toshio Hosokawa: Gardens (Spotify) No country has outdone Japan in finding a compelling intersection of its traditional musics and the potentialities of the post-WW2 avant-garde. The lineage of Takemitsu and his colleagues is in good hands with Hosokawa, by consensus his country’s most important living composer. He’s best known for his orchestral and other large-scale works, but this album focuses on chamber and solo pieces, of which the most intriguing may be Nachtmusik for the Hungarian cimbalom, yet another new and unexpected species of East Meets West
In the vernacular tradition
Roscoe Mitchell Orchestra: Littlefield Concert Hall Mills College March 19-20, 2018 (Spotify) The prosaic title of this offering from the longest tenured member of the Art Ensemble of Chicago reflects the origins of these pieces as transcriptions and orchestrations of improvisations. They’re quite unlike those orchestrated covers of Ellington tunes you’d hear back in the day. Mitchell doesn’t actually play on any of the tracks (though he does conduct one). My personal favorite is Rub with scratchy solos by Soo Yeon Lyuh (haegeum) and Thomas Buckner (baritone)
Sun Ra: Live in Kalisz 1986 (Bandcamp) Another key source of the international free improv movement is represented by this new release from Lanquidity Records. A relatively modest 12-musician touring version of the Sun Ra Arkestra is heard in a recently unearthed performance at a Polish jazz festival
Taylor Ho Bynum 9-tette: The Ambiguity Manifesto (Bandcamp) This free improv album features several younger leaders of the movement in New York (including Ingrid Laubrock, Mary Halvorson, Tomeka Reid and Tomas Fujiwara). A good representative of the current state of the art
Tyshawn Sorey, Marilyn Crispell: The Adornment of Time (Bandcamp) A single, epic, hour-long duo jam recorded at The Kitchen
Matt Mitchell: Phalanx Ambassadors (Bandcamp) Good representative of the classic atonal bebop tradition post-Dolphy
Kukangendai: Palm (Bandcamp) Minimalist avant-rock from Japan
The Flying Luttenbachers: Imminent Death (Bandcamp) Newly reformed after a ten year haitus, these denizens of atonal rock spent 2019 touring and releasing albums. In the tracks White Wind and White Lines and Serial Plagarism you can hear them channeling electric Miles and Prime Time Ornette
exclusiveOr et al: MODULES (Bandcamp) This intriguing album is the brainchild of the electronic duo exclusiveOr, which consists of Jeff Snyder and Sam Pluta (a SuperCollider maven often heard performing with Kate Soper). Here they’re joined by violist Amy Cimini, bassoonist Katherine Young and several members of International Contemporary Ensemble for a wonderfully variegated excursion in composed improvisation using combined acoustic and electronic means
Green Dome: Thinking in Stitches (Bandcamp) Zeena Parkins, harpist and bandleader, is a longstanding figure in the Downtown New York improv scene. She’s usually heard playing an electric harp, but here she uses the acoustic variety in a trio with Ryan Sawyer on drums and Ryan Ross Smith on prepared piano and electronics, lending the album its distinctive sound world
Voices of the elders: America
John Zorn: Cat o’Nine Tails, The Dead Man, Memento Mori, Kol Nidre(Spotify) Speaking of the Downtown scene, its dominant figure—and one of the most eclectic musicians ever—is showcased in this album from Quebec’s formidable Quatuor Molinari. It’s Zorn as composer that’s on display here: four string quartets written between 1988 and 1996. Zorn is prolific and can also be uneven as evinced by his Kol Nidre, which sounds awfully derivative of Pärt’s Fratres. Momento Mori, though, is a worthy and epic modernist survey, ending with an apparent quote from the start of Berg’s Lyric Suite. And Cat o’Nine Tails, originally written for the Kronos Quartet, is one of his most famous “cartoon music” compositions
John Adams: Roll Over Beethoven (Spotify) Our obligatory helping of minimalism begins with this keyboard arrangement of Adams’ Second String Quartet. It’s one of his most compelling shorter works, taking for its source material some snippets out of Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations and Piano Sonata No. 31. It’s not until about 7:30 into the first movement that the tableau starts to sound like typical Adams (steady repeating notes with octave displacements). As Beethoven deconstructions go it’s closer to Dieter Schnebel or Shaw’s Watermark (after the Piano Concerto No. 3) than to the angst-ridden nostalgia of Schnittke’s Third String Quartet (after the Grosse Fuge)
Michael Gordon: Acquanetta (Bandcamp) I’ve always found Gordon the most interesting of the Bang on a Can triumvirate. The ease with which he incorporates vernacular elements into his style of beat-driven postminimalism makes his voice the most distinctive, and fun, of the bunch. The title character of this one-act opera is an American B-movie actress popular in the 1940s and 1950s
Voices of the elders: Europe
Salvatore Sciarrino: Ombre nel mattino di Piero (Bandcamp) Sciarrino’s newest string quartet is exquisitely performed and recorded in this album, which features the Lassus Quartet
Horizon 9 (Spotify) The recent performances by the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra gathered here include works by Roukens, Rijnvos and a piccolo concerto by Tüür, but the highlight is Peter Eötvös’s Multiversum, a concerto for pipe organ and Hammond organ. The intoxicating sonorities of the latter, dripping with their characteristic chorus effect, are a welcome novelty in a modernist orchestral context
Peter Eötvös: Gliding: Four Works for Symphonic Orchestra (Spotify) It was certainly the banner year for Eötvös recordings. My favorite work here is Alle vittime senza nome (to the unnamed victims), composed in 2017 and dedicated to refugees recently killed crossing the Mediterranean Sea. It brings Henze to mind more than most Eötvös works. And then there’s Dialog mit Mozart which reminds me more of The Cunning Little Vixen than Mozart, but is still enjoyable for its rhythmically graceful colorful palette. Like Saariaho, Eötvös’ music seems to be taking a turn from dense, slowly-changing textures toward more open textures featuring more conventional (though still postmodern) rhythmically-articulated patterns
Tristan Murail: Portulan (Spotify) Ensemble Cairn’s new album gathers several Murail chamber works under the moniker Portulan (an archaic word referring to nautical charts). Despite the small ensemble size, Garrigue and Paludes present the range of color, the strung-together sequences, and the rhythmic and formal unpredictability we associate with this most admired of living French composers. Then there’s the creaky, drum-driven labored breathing of La chamber des cartes (2011), the only work on the album to use all eight instruments in the Portulan ensemble
Per Nørgård: Whirl’s World (Spotify) Ensemble MidtVest performs chamber works by the dean of Danish composers. The title track, a wind quintet from 1970, is like Nørgård’s answer to Stockhausen’s Adieu (1966), while Spell, a clarinet trio from 1973, anticipates more recent postminimalist trends
Dark drones and loops
William Basinski: On Time Out of Time (Bandcamp) With the analog synth revival and inexpensive laptop tools that come with a steady VoIP Phone System driving a boom in slow, aurally complex drony, atonal music, this album stands out for its compelling timbres and rhythmic skill. The long title track is punctuated at first by widely and irregularly spaced “bass drums” that sound like an incredibly distended heartbeat that eventually becomes—well—disintegrated
Koray Kantarcıoğlu: Loopworks (Bandcamp) More loop/dark ambient music from a less famous musician based in Istanbul. Built from looped samples of 1960s–70s Turkish LPs, it works in a way not far removed from Carl Stone’s music
Ellen Arkbro: Chords (Bandcamp) The gripping microtonal guitar peals of Arkbro’s Chords for guitar are among the most haunting things I’ve heard all year
Phill Niblock: Baobab (Bandcamp) and Music for Organ (Bandcamp) In a direct line from La Monte Young, Niblock is one of the sources of today’s dark ambient and Wandelweiser genres with his dense microtonal drone music for (usually) monochromatic instrumental groupings. Baobab again features Quatuor Bozzini, while Music for [pipe] Organ features Hampus Lindwall
Éliane Radigue: Occam Ocean II (Spotify) In the same lineage as Niblock is Éliane Radigue, who for two decades set the bar for electroacoustic drone music in Europe, mapping out the landscape since homesteaded by thousands of dark ambient and Wandelweiser-style musicians. Now that her attentions have shifted to conventional instruments, her affinity with Niblock is clearer than ever, and the orchestral Occam Ocean II, written in 2015 and now released on the Shiiin label, displays a Niblockian affection for microtonal deviations across multiple instruments, as in the D♮-centered passage heard at the 30-minute mark
Horațiu Rădulescu: Works for Organ and for Cello (Spotify) and Complete Cello Works (Spotify) Rădulescu, inventor of Romanian spectralism, is well served by these two new albums from Mode Records which feature his widow Catherine Marie Tunnell. Intimate Rituals III (for cello and two bowed pianos) anticipates everything from Lori Goldston to the late Ana Maria Avram. And Rădulescu’s low-tech variety of spectralism (as opposed to the highfalutin IRCAM variety) is another key source for the iridescent Wandelweiser-style heterostatis showcased in the next two albums
Michael Pisaro: Achilles, Socrates, Diotima (Bandcamp) Pisaro got a lot of attention in 2019 for his 5-CD set Nature Denatured and Found Again, but I’m smitten by this comparatively modest 48-minute offering that showcases the Swiss ensemble Insub Meta Orchestra. Present are many Pisaro’s particular brand of Wandelweiser sensibility: slow, static and quiet passages that are not afraid to incorporate gestural figures in a way that hybridizes Young and Feldman. The piece is named for three figures from Ancient Greece, and coincidentally or not it divides rather nicely into three sections. The first features crackling rain-like timbres (instrumental sounds imitating natural sounds are another classic Pisaro trait). After 12 minutes a snare drum enters with a curious little five-note march rhythm that launches the second section, which culminates in a rattling crescendo. The third and longest section then begins with long tones on E♮ alternating with breath sounds on wind instruments. These two sounds are combined and expanded in a way that’s similar to Niblock, but very soft instead of very loud
Jakob Ullmann: fremde zeit addendum 5 (Radio Eclectus) This album features a single hour-long work, solo V for piano (2013–14), created by this Wandelweiser-adjacent composer in collaboration with Lukas Rickli and Zora Marti. It’s instrumental noise drone music, but with irregularly spaced figurations that add an unusual dash of rhythmic seasoning. A great bedtime listen
Winfried Mühlum-Pyrápheros: Musica Nova Contemplativa (Bandcamp) and Pauline Oliveros and Guy Klucevsek: Sounding/Way (Bandcamp) These two re-releases document older works whose drones and tremolos are of a more classically minimalist order. Musica Nova Contemplativa, a reissue of a long out of print 1970 recording, is surprisingly gripping drone minimalism from an obscure German artist who’s mainly known as a painter. Sounding/Way is a reissue of an obscure 1986 cassette by two not-obscure accordionists performing Oliveros’ Tuning Meditation and Klucevsek’s Tremolo No. 6 (which is reminiscent of Ligeti’s Continuum and Coulée)
Various artists: On Corrosion (Bandcamp) A remarkable snapshot of the dark ambient genre as it stands today comes by way of this anthology from Helen Scarsdale Agency that injects the newfound anti-establishmentarian nostalgia for audiocassettes into the world of collectible objects. Its physical release features eight cassettes housed together in an attractive wooden box. Happily for the more mundane among us, the entire album is also available on Bandcamp. Particularly noteworthy are Francisco Meirino’s loops cut from an old reel-to-reel tape of gospel music and the “9 dreams in erotic mourning” from English musician Alice Kemp
Cover your ears: noise, electronic music and sound art
Cecilia Lopez: Red/Machinic Fantasies (Bandcamp) See my review of Lopez’s brand of “precarious augmented reality” that takes after Lucier, Niblock and Gordon Monahan
Steve Layton and Sound-In: The Mind Wanders (Bandcamp) Sound-In’s music originates in online jams among musicians networked from separate continents. The results are then edited and assembled by Seattleite Steve Layton. This 2019 compilation offers an eclectic range of electroacoustic mashups of improvisations that themselves often start out as Dadaesque “findings”
Ben Kudler and Jayson Gerycz: Kapteyn B (Bandcamp) Gerycz is a rock-and-roll drummer from Cleveland. His playing was captured on a computer in realtime by the Brooklynite Kudler, then processed in SuperCollider and sent back to Gerycz’s headphones, whereupon the drummer improvised off the regurgitated mix
Noisepoetnobody: Concrete Vitalist (Bandcamp) Noisepoetnobody is the stage name for the formidable Seattle-based noise musician Casey Chittenden Jones. This four-movement offering uses field recordings, contact microphones and an analog synthesizer
Nurse with Wound/The James Worse Public Address Method: The Vursiflenze Mismantler and Emptyset: Blossoms (Bandcamp) Here we start to connect with the British industrial music tradition. Nurse with Wound requires no introduction. Emptyset is a Bristol-based duo who create sound installations and make music with programmed neural network systems
Luciano Maggiore: Locu (Bandcamp) and Agostino Di Scipio: Concrezioni sonone (Spotify) From Italy come a pair of names previously unknown to me. Maggiore, a sound artist currently living in London, contributes this haunting and noisy album (it was originally a cassette) that features faint howling sounds. Di Scipio’s album focuses on music for piano and live electronics, starting from the New York School’s attitude of a piano as, first and foremost, a sound source. His Three silent pieces (3 Pezzi muti) borrows a concept from Larry Austin’s Accidents (1967) where the pianist is directed to perform rapidly on the keyboard without trying to sound any notes. The resulting mechanical noises, along with the occasional audible “accident”, are captured and transformed by computer processing. In Di Scipio’s chpn3.2, written for the Chopin bicentennial, recordings of Chopin’s piano music are “injected” into the strings through transducers custom built by Giorgio Klauer. As in the Maggiore album, it creates the sense of an overheard transmission from the au-delà
New composed music
Ana Sokolović: Sirènes (Spotify) This Serbian-born Québécoise composer has gotten some international attention for her chamber opera Svadba (Wedding), which uses six female voices who alternate between standard “classical” and guttural Balkan singing styles. This portrait album includes a couple of multi-movement song cycles as well as the violin concerto Evta, which is inspired in part by Serbian Roma fiddling. Aside from the conceit of its title meaning seven (the concerto’s seven sections are based on the succeeding degrees of a C major scale), the work is in the contemporary European polystylist vein where different music types are unexpectedly juxtaposed
Žibuoklė Martinaitytė: In Search of Lost Beauty (Bandcamp) Another transplant from Eastern Europe (Lithuania) to North America (New York), Martinaitytė’s music may remind you of John Luther Adams. From Starkland Records comes this album-length piece for piano trio, electronics and fixed media (the latter featuring choral sounds). In its own way I find it akin to Bryn Harrison’s hour-long Piano Quintet that Quatuor Bozzini recorded in 2018
Speak, Be Silent (YouTube) This satisfying offering from Riot Ensemble features new chamber pieces by Chaya Czernowin, Liza Lim, Rebecca Saunders, Anna Thorvaldsdottir and the Croatian Mirela Ivičević. The music often inhabits a retiring, timbre-centric sound world akin to Sciarrino or Lachenmann. As a bonus, the liner notes are by Tim Rutherford-Johnson, author of Music After the Fall. See the review by Christian Carey
Dominique Schafer: Vers une présence réelle… (Spotify) Ensemble Proton’s Martin Bliggenstorfer with his lupophone
Ensemble Proton Bern performs music by this Swiss composer who sadly died of pancreatic cancer in August. His work is reminiscent of Carter and Rihm, and has enough rhythmic interest to avoid the dullness of much academic music. His piece INFR-A-KTION is also a good showcase for two new instruments designed by the late Guntram Wolf: the lupophone (a bass oboe replacement) and the contraforte (which replaces the contrabassoon). See the review by Christian Carey
Andrew McIntosh: We See the Flying Bird, Five Songs (Bandcamp) I first encountered McIntosh’s music at the 2018 premiere of Shasta by the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s New Music Group with John Adams conducting. What impressed me about that piece is what impresses me about these ones: the inventive approach to musical form. Whereas most music nowadays is based on simple repetition-based forms or else uses gradual processes where ideas and transitions unfold slowly (or remain static), McIntosh’s structures are more of a throwback to composers like Messiaen who used block forms built from a succession of sections that are clearly set off from each another without relying on repetition
Zosha Di Castri:Tachitipo (Bandcamp) A Canadian composer based in New York who, as befits her professed “restless” personality, is fond of sudden stylistic juxtapositions in the mold of Zappa and Zorn (and Europeans like Neuwirth and Goebbels). Like the best of them, Di Castri can pull this off without sounding disjointed
In manus tuas (Bandcamp) Violist Anne Leilehua Lanzilotti performs works by herself, Caroline Shaw, Anna Thorvaldsdóttir and Andrew Norman. The latter high-profile young composer (who turned 40 just two months ago), is best known for his orchestral music, but as is so often the case with American composers, I think he does better with more modest, and less Eurocentric, means. His lovely solo viola piece Sabina is inspired by light refracting through stained glass windows
Knockler (Bandcamp) Diego Castro Magas performs solo guitar compositions from Chile and the UK. Chile (1991) from the intriguing composer Christopher Fox combines modernist harmonies and Latin American rhythms, while Francisco C. Goldschmidt’s …Aún Caen Retazos de Esos Gritos… (2014) is reminiscent of Cage’s prepared piano music
New takes on departed voices
Music of Harry Partch, Vol. 3: Sonata Dementia (Spotify) Previously reviewed by Paul Muller, this latest release in PARTCH’s survey of the 20th century’s most important microtonal composer includes the premiere recording of Sonata Dementia, the first version of what eventually became Ring Around the Moon. Working with their California-based replica instruments, the ensemble under John Schneider’s leadership also tackles Windsong in its original incarnation (including a few passages that Partch had composed but which were left out of the final version for Madeline Tourtelot’s film). Bridge Records also includes a vintage 1942 recording of Partch performing Barstow in early solo version for voice and adapted guitar
Karlheinz Stockhausen: aus LICHT (IDAGIO) Pierre Audi’s farewell to Dutch National Opera involved staging roughly half of Stockhausen’s mammoth cycle of seven operas, one for each day of the week. It’s marvelous to hear this music in modern performances that often blow away the original Stockhausen Edition renditions. The excerpts are well chosen too, a powerful concentration of musical highlights from this often sprawling and uneven tome. Available exclusively through IDAGIO, the classical music-centric streaming service launched in 2015
Morton Feldman Piano (Bandcamp) I still love John Tilbury’s classic traversal of Feldman’s solo piano works, but Philip Thomas’s new survey for Another Timbre is also very fine, and adds a few rediscovered and previously unrecorded short pieces
Frank Zappa: Orchestral Favorites 40th Anniversary (Spotify) and The Hot Rats Sessions (Spotify) Two multi-CD “the making of” albums from the Zappa Family Trust commemorate the 40th anniversary of Orchestral Favorites and the 50th of Hot Rats. The Orchestral Favorites set includes a remaster of the original 1979 LP along with the complete 1975 concert at UCLA’s Royce Hall that was its source. This featured a pickup orchestra that combined some of Zappa’s regular musicians (such as Bruce Fowler, Ian Underwood and Terry Bozzio) with several LA area freelance musicians. Hot Rats, recorded in 1969, is from Zappa’s early period. It dropped the Mothers of Invention moniker, focusing more on rock improv vehicles for Zappa and some of his side musicians (in an original radio promo spot, included with the anniversary set, tracks like Peaches en Regalia and Son of Mr. Green Genes are referred to as “rock and roll concertos”). Also included are the original unedited takes from tracks like Willie the Pimp, which famously features Captain Beefheart on vocals with solos by Zappa on electric guitar and Don “Sugarcane” Harris on electric violin, jamming on what’s basically a one-chord tune
Pehr Henrik Nordgren: As in a Dream (Spotify) The latest posthumous release dedicated to this remarkable composer of Finnish nationality and Japanese tutelage features concertos for cello, for string orchestra, and for viola and double bass. The latter, modeled after Brahms’s double concerto but shifted down to amplify the two “marginalized” members of the string family, exhibits that Nordgrenian talent for juxtaposing seemingly disparate musics. For example, at 22:00 there’s a funky riff of piano chords that one minute later leads into an orchestral passage based on pentatonic East Asian-style runs that in turn lead into an Ivesian quodlibet at 23:30. This is the kind of montage that we’ve tended to associate with improvising Americans like Zappa and Zorn, but Nordgren is one of the increasing number of Europeans to pull this off. At 31:00 there’s a tonal Bach-like chorale tune. It reveals a connection with the spiritual minimalists, but Nordgren is always his own strange mix
Galina Ustvolskaya: Complete Music for Violin and Piano (Spotify) This album by Natalia Andreeva and Evgeny Sorkin is one of several commemorating the centenary year of the “lady with the hammer”. Few capture the terror of footsteps and knocks on the door better than these two in their interpretation of Ustvolskaya’s 1952 Sonata, written while Stalin was still alive
Henze: Heliogabalus Imperator, Works for orchestra (Spotify) and Das Floß der Medusa (Spotify) Two important additions to the legacy of the second most famous German composer of his generation. In the first, the late Oliver Knussen conducts the BBC Symphony Orchestra in several classic Henze works, including the first proper recording of his symphonic poem Heliogabalus Imperator, written in 1972, revised in 1986, and named for the brief and garish reign of an obscure 3rd century Roman Emperor. The music is appropriately raucous and colorful, more reminiscent of Messiaen than most Henze compositions. Meanwhile the ever-industrious Peter Eötvös conducts the first digital recording of Henze’s most notorious dramatic piece, The Raft of the Frigate Medusa. It’s also the first to incorporate the revisions that Henze made to the score in 1990, and it sounds great
Richard Rodney Bennett: Orchestral Works, Vol. 3 (Spotify) The latest in Chandos’ survey includes some of Bennett’s better-enduring works, such as the First Symphony and Zodiac (which is quite unlike Stockhausen’s namesake). The music is basically neoclassical, but in the modernist vein of middle Tippett
Stockhausen, Xenakis, Ferneyhough, Donatino, Reynolds, Fundal, Henze: 20th Century Percussion Solos (Spotify) Fine new versions of evergreens Zyklus and Psappha from Danish percussionist Mathias Reumert, and a first recording of Roger Reynolds’ epic Watershed
Stage to video
Among the year’s video releases with particular significance to new music, three major European opera productions stand out. Not so much the Alex Ross vaunted trio of Heart Chamber, Orlando and The Snow Queen—simply because the first two have not been recorded while the third, though visually attractive and a vehicle for the justifiably glorified Barbara Hannigan, seems an overly ambitious foray into operatic spectacle for a composer whose authentic voice is fundamentally introverted and non-verbal. Instead I was more struck by the following thought-provoking productions that show how the creative standards for new music theater remain quite high.
Magdalena Kožená and Georg Nigl in Macbeth Underworld
Pascal Dusapin and Frédéric Boyer: Macbeth Underworld (YouTube) I’ve had trouble warming to Dusapin’s coupling of a colorful but thick postmodernist idiom with conventional opera’s vocal and instrumental baggage, but Macbeth Underworld is one of his most successful efforts, depositing Shakespeare’s fallen couple into a hell-world informed by Dante and Elizabethan nostalgia. It was premiered at La Monnaie in September, and a fine video culled from two October performances has been published to YouTube for the rest of us to enjoy. An especially lovely touch is the bedroom duet in the second scene, where the increasingly insane couple is accompanied by a solo archlute (played by Christian Rivet). The comic Porter (played by British tenor Graham Clark) doubles as Hecate and serves as a recurring commenting fool, replete with red Bozo the Clown hair and frequently accompanied by an onstage fiddler
Francesco Filidei and Joël Pommerat: L’Inondation (ARTE) A newer voice is the Italian composer Francesco Filidei (1973–). A pupil of Sciarrino and an organist by trade, his music is eclectic, with postminimalist passages culminating in hints of Vivier, and spectralist string harmonic glissandos accompanying discoordinated vocal melodies in a manner reminiscent of Saariaho. One might connect Filidei with the post-Henze variety of European neoclassicism that’s currently making a comeback. But regardless, the language is well-suited for the scenario, adapted by Joël Pommerat (who also directs this premiere production at the Opéra Comique) from the same Yevgeny Zamyatin short story that spawned the 1994 Franco-Russian film. The central character is an unnamed woman (played by the versatile young French singer Chloé Briot) in a childless and somewhat dysfunctional relationship. She strangles (or perhaps hallucinates that she strangles) the couple’s adopted teenage girl (represented onstage by two identically costumed and wigged women, one an actor, the other a singer). As in Wozzeck, the music represents the world as she perceives it, so although it’s clear that she is insane by the end of the opera, we can’t be sure how much of the action, perhaps including the titular flood itself, is real rather than imagined
Karlheinz Stockhausen: aus LICHT (ARTE) Finally there’s the aforementioned Kathinka Pasveer/Pierre Audi condensed production of LICHT. ARTE has made available a high-quality 90-minute video sampler featuring 16 excerpts from the 15-hour performance. These are intercut with shots of schoolchildren creating art projects based on the cycle’s Urantia Book-inspired story lines (Stockhausen Sonntagsschule, I guess). Not surprisingly, the excerpts feature the most visually striking passages (such as the Central African video sequence from Michael’s Ride Around the World) and the broad-stroked lighting and set design from Urs Schönebaum, with its curved illuminated piping, multiple video projection screens, and monochromatic blocks of color (chiefly red, blue and yellow). The last three excerpts come from Mittwoch and Sonntag, and feature passages not included in the IDAGIO audio album: a 6½ minute look at Orchester-Finalisten, 13 minutes of the notorious Helikopter-Streichquartett (performed by the Pelargos Quartet in feathery costumes) and the cathartic choral piece Engel-Prozessionen
From Elbphilharmonie, György Ligeti: Le Grand Macabre (YouTube) and HK Gruber: Frankenstein!! (YouTube) If you don’t live near Hamburg and haven’t yet seen the interior of the spectacular new Elbphilharmonie, the next best thing is to watch Doug Fitch’s concert staging of Le Grand Macabre performed there by new arrival Alan Gilbert, who debuted the production in 2010 during his stint with the New York Philharmonic. Also worth viewing from the Elbphilharmonie is HK Gruber singing and conducting his song cycle Frankenstein!!, long a hit on Germanic concert stages. Also on the program are his Manhattan Broadcasts and Weill’s Second Symphony, the latter reminding us all where Gruber’s roots lie. Regrettably no English subtitles though
Robert Ashley: Improvement (Don Leaves Linda) (Vimeo) From New York comes this revival of Robert Ashley’s new music theater piece from 1985–1991. Ashley called it an opera, placing it in the tetralogy that also includes Now Eleanor’s Idea, but it’s more in the lineage of Einstein on the Beach in its avoidance of opera singers and traditional instruments. The production from Tom Hamilton and David Moodey is unlikely to sway opinions about Ashley’s stage works in either direction, but it puts the material in the best possible light, and is a welcome addition to the paltry collection of professionally documented landmarks of American experimental theater
Past and present
Special mention goes to Agamemnon the opera, one of the most remarkable of the year’s Web-driven “back from oblivion” discoveries. It was conceived in the late 1980s as an opera on disk by Nicole Gagné and the late David Avidor. Gagné, who adapted the libretto from Aeschylus, is best known as a music writer (among other things she compiled the Historical Dictionary of Modern and Contemporary Classical Music), while Avidor seems to be mainly remembered as a recording engineer. Both are present as musicians for most of the opera’s two hours and five acts, but they’re joined by an astonishing cast loaded with such Downtown superstars as Fred Frith, Pauline Oliveros, Julius Eastman (who voices Agamemnon), Sussan Deyhim, Blue Gene Tyranny, Shelley Hirsch (who voices Cassandra), Robert Ashley, David Shea, Arto Lindsay (who plays Aegisthus) and Ned Sublette (whose Texas accent reminds me of The Residents’ Homer Flynn). Most of these artists contribute improvisationally to the musical texture.
Though the opera was completed in 1992, it was never released on a commercial recording (the contributing musicians didn’t even know it had been finished). So it lay forgotten for over two decades until a buzz began to circulate in social media this past year that the piece had been published on Bandcamp, to the delight of contemporary music fans intrigued by its lineup of unique musical personalities.
That this project from 30 years ago can be included here with no loss of continuity (apart from the presence of a few long-deceased voices) speaks to the stability (or stagnation if you want to be less charitable) of the current musical environment. The 2010s were not so much distinct from their predecessors as they were a prolongation of themes that have been dominant for quite some time in Western art music and its neighboring regions. One can reasonably claim (and many have) that no fundamentally new musical ideas have arisen since the 1970s spawned spectralism and hip hop. Subsequent innovations have been of the strictly recombinant variety (i.e., postminimalism and the kinds of intercultural fusion described above) or the reclamatory one (neoromanticism, the modular synth revival, etc.).
It might seem ironic that the age of globalism and the Internet has produced so much displacement in how music is mediated and commodified, yet so little evolution in its style. But if the effect of the last ontological revolution in Western art music—that of the post-WW2 avant-garde—was to expand the range of allowable musical material to include literally any reproducible sound, then it stands to reason that the only further room for radical change is in the epistemological direction. It’s too soon to see what particulars that next revolution will involve. The more doomsday-oriented observers, such as Richard Taruskin, suggest that the end of Western art music is already in sight as the supremacy of written music gets overrun by modern technology. But the quantity of visionary artists dedicated to moving the music forward—artists who regard all facets of its modern praxis, whether composed, improvised or fixed-media, as belonging to an integral shared tradition—is amply displayed by the compelling work showcased in this article. It suggests that this most progressive and unpredictable of musical traditions may still have some life left in it.
Photo credits: Sam Shalabi via Constellation Records, Lao Dan via Family Vineyard Records, Taylor Ho Bynum 9-tette via Bynum, Zeena Parkins by Andy Newcombe, Ellen Arkbro via the artist, Michael Pisaro by Kathy Pisaro (design Matthew Revert), Cecilia Lopez by Ian Kornfeld, Žibuoklė Martinaitytė by Lina Aiduke, Martin Bliggenstorfer by Michael Schell, Frank Zappa by Jay L. Handler, Pehr Henrik Nordgren via Kai Nordgren/Wikimedia, Magdalena Kožená and Georg Nigl in Dusapin: Macbeth Underworld via La Monnaie, L’Inondation by Stefan Brion/Opéra Comique, Agamemnon: Fred Frith by Alexander Kurz, Pauline Oliveros by Linda Montano, Shelley Hirsch by Frank Schindelbeck, Julius Eastman via Wikipedia, Arto Lindsay by Carstor, Sussan Deyhim by Robert Hayman, Robert Ashley by Savio.
On Sunday night, October 20, 2019 Equal Sound presented a double album CD release concert featuring experimental performer/composer Sarah Belle Reid and Berlin-based thereminist extraordinary Carolina Eyck. The Civic Center Studios in downtown Los Angeles was the venue, and included a potent surround sound system, a balcony and ample room for the hundred or so new music concert goers in attendance.
The first set of the evening was by Sarah Belle Reid. According to the program notes, she is a “Canadian performer-composer, specializing in trumpet and electronics, modular synthesis, and alternate forms of graphical notation for composition and improvisation.” Ms. Reid performed works from her newly released album Underneath and Sonder. This began with a remarkable hybrid trumpet that featured two bells – one of which was muted – while both were connected to the same valving and a single mouthpiece. The formidably convoluted plumbing for this instrument was ingeniously constructed so that the performer could switch sounds between the two bells. Ms. Reid played the horns into a microphone and the acoustic sound was processed by a laptop and amplified by the surround sound system. The opening notes were elegantly sustained and alternated intriguingly between muted and open trumpet tones. The electronic processing provided a complimentary mystical dimension, especially when the muted bell was used. A wide variety of sounds were produced as the bells were moved back and forth in front of the microphone.
After a time, the familiar trumpet tones were replaced by breathy sounds of air moving through the horn. A series of hisses, snorts and whooshing sounds emerged that were well beyond the traditional sounds of a brass instrument. There was primal growling and something like gunshots that, with the high powered sound system, drove sonic levels in the hall to the threshold of discomfort. The amplified snapping of the valves and a thumping sound derived from an unusual intonation soon filled the space with a thoroughly percussive feel and a pleasingly solid groove. There were also stretches of vivid harmony and brilliant processing so that It seemed as if several players were performing at once. The unexpectedly diverse collection of sounds, the electronic processing and her innovative instrument designs have enabled Ms. Reid to significantly extend the expressive potential of the humble trumpet. A long round of enthusiastic applause followed the finish of a superb performance.
Carolina Eyck followed, equipped with a theremin, microphone and processing electronics all connected to the surround sound speakers. After a short explanation on the workings of the theremin, Ms. Eyck began with a comforting melody – perhaps an old hymn tune – to which she added her voice and some agreeable looping. At one point she was singing in harmony with herself and the theremin tones. Her control over the sounds coming from the theremin was remarkable, depending as it does on the position of her hands in space. There were no corny 1950s sci-fi effects, but rather a sumptuously smooth sound with rock solid pitch control. Ms. Eyck was in complete command, playing the theremin, dialing up the appropriate electronic processing and singing with a beautiful soprano voice. There was a timeless feel to her music that seemed to flow from a long folk tradition – the haunting phrases and melancholy notes were reminiscent of old Celtic tunes. Her latest album is aptly titled Elegies for Theremin and Voice.
One piece described a walk along the beach and featured the sounds of wind, surf and sea birds in addition to a sunny optimism in the melody. Perhaps the most affecting piece was an elegy for a young harpist friend who had passed away. The mix of layered voice and theremin soared with an ethereal transcendence, artfully creating a powerful memorial. All of Ms. Eyck’s pieces were well received and contained an appealing combination of voice, theremin and electronic processing that worked seamlessly together. Her set was given a rousing standing ovation.
Ms. Reid returned to the stage for an improvised encore that featured both performers. A different trumpet appeared, this one fitted with valve displacement sensors connected wirelessly to the laptop – another impressive technical achievement. The warm tones of the theremin and Ms. Eyck’s enchanting voice were joined by the many and varied percussive sounds coming from the modified trumpet. These worked surprisingly well together: the expressive complexity of the trumpet contrasted nicely with the graceful sounds of the theremin and voice. A more extended duo would have been been a plus, but the creative possibilities were clearly evident.
The two performers generously made themselves available afterwards for a meet and greet. There was something for everyone in this concert: the dramatic explorations of experimental trumpets and the soulful harmonies of the theremin and voice. The large crowd in attendance drifted out into the warm Los Angeles night in a state of high contentment.
On September 6, 2019 People Inside Electronics presented Aperplicity, a concert of performance art and music performed by two Los Angeles-based duos. Aperture Duo with Adrianne Pope, violin and Linnea Powell, viola, joined forces with Autoduplicity, Rachel Beetz, flute and Jennifer Bewerse, cello, to present five pieces, including a world premiere. The spacious Throop Unitarian Church Hall in Pasadena filled up with a fine new music audience on a warm Friday night.
Time With People, Op. 1 (2013) by Tim Parkinson began the program with two performers sitting at a table holding a few snacks and cans of soda. This setting might have been two people meeting for lunch, or on their break at work. The two began speaking about the everyday issues in their lives – the difficulties of getting up and ready for the day, vacation in Hawaii, peculiar eating habits of the dog, the challenges of growing house plants. Their words were more like a stream of conscience and were not a conversation directed at each other. They simply talked on at length until a buzzer sounded, when one of the performers stopped speaking. Perhaps they were reminiscing about their previous Online Casino ohne Limit experience. A second, different buzzer, sounded and now both conversations were suspended while some familiar classical music was heard through the speakers on stage. A few moments later, the first buzzer sounded and the stream of words started up again from the first person. The other followed as the second buzzer was heard. This pattern was repeated with several variations as the two buzzers were sounded at different times and in different combinations. The topics changed from time to time, but were always about intimate commonplaces and never serious. All of this was very engaging and at times very entertaining – the audience broke into knowing laughter on a number of occasions. Time With People is a powerful commentary on our everyday conversations – we generally talk at people about the everyday banalities of our lives – and do very little listening in return.
Selections from Retrouvailles (2013) by Georges Asperghis followed. This was a series of three short scenes that began with two performers meeting mid-stage, embracing and patting each other on the back. This patting became faster and louder, and was soon distinctly rhythmic. Some French words were shouted, but there were no sung vocals or other music. The rhythms continued in this fashion for some moments before slowing, with the arms freezing in mid-slap at the finish. The second vignette had the two performers standing side-by-side and stamping their feet in a rhythm. Finger snapping, hand-clapping and side-slapping were added to this and the result was a cleverly choreographed bit of live percussion. The final scene had the two sitting at a sturdy wooden table with a wine bottle and a large glass. These were set sliding noisily across the table in a tidy rhythm that morphed into a rattling and pounding as the piece progressed. Some shouting soon accompanied these gestures, as might be heard in a rowdy bar. For the finish, the bottle was opened, the wine poured into the glass and the performers each took a cordial sip. Retrouvailles reminds us that music and rhythm are implicit in our most commonplace interactions, and how much we could add to our everyday life by being mindful of the musical possibilities.
Wash Me Whiter Than Snow (2013) by Jennifer Walshe was next, a piece for violin, cello and images projected on a screen above the stage. This opened with soft sliding sounds as both players bowed their instruments very slowly without fingering. Their free arms occasionally reached up and out while flowers appeared on the projection screen. The players then gently dropped their bows on the strings, producing a soft thump. A raucous recording of percussion was heard, and the players left their chairs and assumed various dramatic poses.
More acting and playing followed as the percussion recording ceased. There was a furious stretch of mimed cello and violin playing, a passage filled with complex pizzicato, and a bit of joyful singing and strumming. When actual tones were produced, the playing and vocals were excellent. On the screen, lions were seen pacing back and forth in a small cage. There was more pantomime playing of the stringed instruments which was followed by a soft scratching of bows on the strings and more acting. The piece ended with some vocals and a rough screech on the bowed cello as the violinist pantomimed an accompaniment. All the acting, singing and playing certainly highlighted the versatility of the performers, – Jennifer Bewerse and Adrianne Pope – considering they are from different groups. Wash Me Whiter Than Snow blurs the line between intention and reality, leaving the audience to sort out their impressions individually.
The premiere of Speech Suite (2019) by Todd Moellenberg followed, and this opened with a single word heard from the speaker. Two performers on stage, cellist and flute, began speaking concurrent phrases that were layered under the words emanating from the speaker. An intricate cello solo followed, and the sounds mimicked the rapidly spoken phrases. The listener’s brain was free to interpret the cello sounds as music or as speech, adding to the intrigue. More spoken phrases were heard from the speaker and the flute now accompanied, accurately mimicking the speech patterns. The two sets of sounds heard simultaneously created a pleasant confusion in the listener’s brain, sometimes the words were heard as music and sometimes hearing the flute tones as speech. The cello, flute and speaker were heard in various combinations in this way as the piece proceeded. Words and musical tones that resembled the patterns of speech delightfully overlapped. The two musicians displayed great skill matching the cadence and rhythmic patter of the spoken words. At the finish, a video of a Congressional hearing into some political foolishness was shown on the overhead screen while the stage speaker kept repeating “Liar!, Liar!” as the accompanying flute and cello imitated the same words. Speech Suite was greeted with appreciative laughter and extended applause.
The final piece on the program was I Delayed People’s Flights By Walking Slowly in Narrow Hallways (2005) by Mayke Nas and Wouter Snoei. Four performers were seated across from four large chalkboards. One performer began the piece by stamping on the floor as the others bowed from the waist while sitting down. More stamping by the others followed, in no particular order and without a common beat. Electronic sounds were heard from the speakers as one performer got up and drew a line on the chalkboard. Other players followed and more lines were drawn until a message emerged: “I Came Into The World.”
This set the pattern for the piece as it proceeded – single lines or single words were drawn until a phrase or message appeared. Some part of this would be erased and more words or letters added to change the meaning. In one sequence “I Approved Of Myself” was modified to “I DisApproved Of Myself” by the addition of just one syllable. “I Indulged in Self Doubt” became “I Indulged in Self Promotion.” All of this happened in fairly short order, the phrases and thoughts morphing at the speed of introspection with the players rapidly moving between the line of chairs and the chalkboards. In one sequence “I Called God Dead” appeared just as a rumble of thunder was heard from the speakers, and the message quickly became “I Called God Infallible”, which became “I Called Art Infallible” which morphed into “I Called Love Infallible.”
The arc of these visible thoughts, beginning with “I Came Into The World”, became evermore philosophical, illuminating the process of self examination in a new and striking way. The various noises coming from the speakers might have represented the uncertainty and buzz of distractions that are part of any mental process. The clear sequence of messages that appeared in written form on the chalkboards, however, tended to remove the normal self doubts that arise in a purely internal rumination. At the finish, the players covered all four chalkboards in a jumble of many words written in very small letters, as if ambiguity and confusion had overcome the previous clarity of thought. The players then began erasing all of this to reveal a final message hidden under the jumble: “I Asked For It.” I Delayed People’s Flights… is an extraordinary exploration of the thought process of self examination. The players received an enthusiastic ovation for their efforts.
On Saturday, August 10, 2019 wasteLAnd presented its first Summer Academy for Composition Concert at Art Share in downtown Los Angeles. The work of eight emerging composers was performed at this event with each having participated in an intensive course of study in contemporary music during the previous week. Their pieces were work-shopped with the musicians of the wasteLAnd ensemble and reviewed by the Academy faculty of Michelle Lou, Michael Pisaro, and Brian Griffeath-Loeb. A fine crowd filled the Art Share performance hall on a warm Los Angeles summer evening in the lively downtown Los Angeles Arts District.
The first participant premiere was To the dust of the well or They wore the sky on their chests a breath, a glance, a sign, (confiding a shadow), by Adam Zuckerman. A string trio consisting of a violin, viola and cello was on the stage, with electronic accompaniment played through the large speakers mounted above. The strings began the piece with soft, sustained tones, but this was overtaken by a low rumbling in the speakers that gradually increased in volume until the strings were only barely audible. After a few moments, the speakers went quiet, issuing just a few sporadic clanks and rattles, and this pause uncovered the soft sounds still coming from the trio. The reappearance of the musical tones and the intriguing harmonies of the strings quickly captured the attention of the listener, despite the hushed dynamic. After a short respite, the speakers again became active, pouring out what seemed to be a stream continuous white noise that once more covered up the strings. The cycle repeated, so that each time the noise ceased and the sounds of the trio re-emerged, one’s listening and focus automatically increased. The brain became conditioned to suspend aural attention when there was noise, as if waiting for the weather to clear, so that the musical tones could be given full concentration when they reappeared. To the dust of the well… is an interesting experiment in the engagement of listener perception by the alternation of loud noise and subtle musical sounds.
Luster was next, by Daniel Allas, and this featured a much larger ensemble that included bass clarinet, prepared guitar, percussion, euphonium and piccolo. Luster opened with a random series of solitary clicks that gradually increased in frequency. This was soon joined by a sustained ratcheting sound, filling the space with a wonderfully rhythmic atmosphere. Sharp piccolo riffs spiked through the air, adding to the free-form feel. A loud, sudden and sustained chord from the winds completely recast the texture, however. The prepared guitar, set flat on a table and bowed with a dowel, soon dominated with a series of rough, scratching sounds that immediately produced a sense of high anxiety. Just when it seemed unbearable, the guitar sounds ceased and a low fluttering came from the euphonium and bass clarinet. A soprano voice called out in a mournful wail, bringing the sense of distress to a maximum. The various parts began to drop out until only the low flutter of the winds remained before all sounds stopped suddenly. Luster fearlessly explores new trails into the unsettled territory of the powerfully distraught.
Evolvement II.B, by Kimia Koochakzadeh-Yazdi followed and this began with the soft sound of an inverted metal bowl rubbed on a large square wooden surface. Airy sounds issued from the flute and clarinet while a low tremolo was barely heard from the viola. The speakers contributed some brief tones before dispensing a deep growl that gradually increased in volume. The instruments remained very soft although the air sounds from the flute were strongly audible and helped to create a ghostly atmosphere. A rubber ball dragged over a drum head and amplified contributed a loud fluttering sound that dominated the the unsettling texture, and added a powerful sense of menace. The instruments followed with a greater volume and the flute again was effective with the unlikely technique of rattling its keys. A hair-raising blast from the piccolo and the rising of the instruments in a great crescendo was heard, followed by the sudden cessation of all sound. Evolvement II.B is an instructive study in the building of tension through unexpected sounds made on standard instruments.
Webkitz, by Kelley Sheehan was preceded by a short explanation of the QR code that was attached to each concert program. At a certain point during the performance, those in the audience with cell phones were invited to take a photo of the QR code, and this would bring up a website that would allow individual interaction with the piece being. An overhead projection displayed a color-coded grid . A simple tapping rhythm was heard in the speakers, and as this repeated it increased in complexity. After a minute or two, a performer entered the stage and sat at the table holding a computer. By activating parts of the colored grid, as projected on the screen, additional rhythmic patterns were formed. The performer than rose from the computer table, crossed the stage, and began adding to the rhythms with a drum. This process occurred a total three times – a new performer arriving at the computer, adding some new rhythms from the grid, and moving to an acoustic instrument on stage, to add more notes. By now there was a great cloud of sounds – the rhythmic clicking in the speakers as well as drumming and mournful guitar sounds coming from on stage.
The 15th annual Dog Star Orchestra series of concerts concluded with Civil Twilight, held at the CalArts Wild Beast and environs, presenting four pieces of experimental music. Three of the pieces were heard outdoors in the mild evening air, on this the second day of summer. Two of the pieces were keyed to local astronomical events – the setting of the sun and the positions of the stars occurring at exactly 8:00 PM on June 22, 2019. The entire concert was devoted to music that was both understated and sophisticated, inviting the audience to listen closely and carefully.
The first piece was to knowe the sprying of the dawenyng and the ende of the evening, the whiche ben called the two crepuscles (2019), by Ryan Seward. This had to start precisely at 8:10 PM on the outside lawn in order to coincide exactly with the point at which the sun was fully below the horizon. It was timed to last until 8:39 PM, the end of civil twilight – the point when light from the sun is considered to be no longer sufficient for ordinary outdoor activities. The players were scattered singly about the lawn and the audience joined them, having been encouraged to move about to experience the sounds in different locations.
A soft soprano voice was heard, coming from high above on a balcony. The woodwind players began a series of quiet bird calls and small bells were rung. A wide variety of sounds were made by the other players; a horn call, some stones rattling across a patio, a purring from some speakers and some softly spoken speech. By changing positions, listeners would come into hearing range of some players and out of earshot of others, so that the mix constantly changed according to location. By staying on the move, the effect was very much like a walk in the woods at sunset, accompanied by a convincing series of quiet forest murmurs. There was, of course, some ambient traffic sounds, but the ‘virtual forest’ seemed to displace this noise from the hearing. The piece gradually decreased in volume as the sun dipped further below the horizon, finally fading into silence at end of civil twilight. With to knowe the sprying of the dawenyng… Ryan Seward has succeeded using reticence and subtlety to create a tranquil organic soundscape that inspires the imagination despite the more irritating outdoor noises of our urban environment.
More quiet music was heard in the second piece on the program, For 5+ Musicians (2016), by Christine Burke. This was heard indoors and the musicians were arrayed in shallow arc at the front of the Wild Beast. The excellent acoustics of the space and lack of outside ambient noise allowed every detail to be clearly heard. For 5+ Musicians began with the striking of highly pitched cymbals followed by a soft electronic tone from the speakers. A low, sustained flute note floated out into the audience as whistling and breaths of air were heard in accompaniment. All was subdued and hushed, with nothing loud or dramatic. At length, a muted trumpet was heard playing a long tone, and as other woodwinds joined in the dynamics increased, but only slightly. Moments of total silence were often observed, adding to the general sense of tranquility. As the piece proceeded, the woodwinds sounded together in slight dissonance, but this was the only trace of tension. By the finish, air moving through the horns and woodwinds was all that was to be heard. For 5+ Musicians is a peacefully reserved work that exists on the edge of aural perception, inviting the listener to experience new and rewarding sonic territory.
pájaros cargando memorias (2018), by Sergio Cote Barco followed, with the musicians assembled on a high balcony outside the Wild Beast, above the grassy lawn. The audience filed outside in the dark to the terraced sitting area cut into the hillside, directly below the balcony. The piece began as a small cymbal sounded along with quiet musical tones and a soft soprano voice that called out into the night. The subdued mix of sounds created a mystical feel, and the texture was never more than sparse. Often only one or two instruments were heard at a time, and all the musical sounds were almost secretively hushed. The playing at this low level was very disciplined, yet sensitive. At times, the ambient outside noises crowded in and obscured the piece, but this only served to focus the listening and created a sort of adversarial context for the music. The soprano voices, with their sustained and ethereal tones carried well and provided a rallying point for the listening audience. pájaros cargando memorias ultimately prevailed against the banality of the ambient street sounds, drifting peacefully out into the darkness like a cloud of pleasant memories.
The final piece of the evening was Ophiuchus (2019), by Marta Tiesenga, and this was also performed on the outside lawn. Ophiuchus is the thirteenth sign of the Zodiac, representing the constellation of a ‘serpent bearer’. As part of the composing process for this piece, the exact disposition of the stars for the date and time of this performance were worked out, and various angles, vectors and relationships transposed into pitches and tones for the notated score. A group of seven acoustic instruments were situated in a corner of one of the buildings and a computer station with speakers placed a dozen yards away, across the lawn. A low, electronic humming was heard at the opening, followed by the solitary ringing of bells from a walkway high above the grass. As the instruments joined in, their sounds interacted with the electronics to create a series of intriguing and mystical sonic patterns. The crowd caught on to this, and soon arranged itself on the grass between the two sound sources to receive the full effect. The low, sustained notes of two double basses were most effective when they changed pitch slightly to initiate a new set of interactions with the speakers. More players appeared, holding small bells and walking about the space, softly ringing out a series of solitary notes. At times they seemed to congregate in one place and this added a bit of density to their sounds. As they dispersed their ringing diminished until all the sounds faded away. A long and reverent silence followed as the starry night seemed to prolong the musical spell. Ophiuchus is an imaginative work with an inventive composing process that captures the timeless human fascination with the stars.
On June 14, 2019 the Southland Ensemble presented Land Images, an evening of experimental music at Automata Arts in Chinatown. The concert was part of the 15th annual Dog Star Orchestra series, presenting a dozen different new music concerts at various locations around Los Angeles through June 22. A full house packed the cozy spaces of Automata anticipating works by Christian Wolff as well as pieces by three contemporary composers.
The first piece on the program was Groundspace or Large Groundspace, by Christian Wolff and was performed outside Automata in Chung King Court. About a dozen performers carrying various instruments gathered in the center of the court and began by playing quiet, sustained tones. This had a remote and distant feel to it, with nothing fast or rhythmic to disrupt the gentle harmonies. The players then began to slowly disperse into the square, so that their changing positions altered the spatial perspective of the listeners. The tones were consistently sustained and changed every minute or so by signal from a saxophone arpeggio. Some of the players slowly circled the outside perimeter of the square, creating variations in the intensity of the sonic field and adding an element of suspense. The audience was also encouraged to move about among the musicians so that position became an important and unique element of the experience. Chung King Court has buildings rising on three sides and opens onto busy Hill Street so that ambient traffic noise at times dominated the mix. Music and street noise often alternated, and this was effective in shifting the context of the piece and focusing the listening. The musicians eventually regrouped and filed inside Automata, and the concentration of their instrument sounds reasserted a fully musical perspective at the finish.
Once inside the players began performing Sticks, also by Christian Wolff, and for this each player took up a handful of twigs and small branches. They set about breaking these and dropping the pieces noisily to the floor. The small space was soon filled with the crackling sound of breaking sticks. There was no effort to coordinate or organize this process, but the sounds could sometimes be perceived as rhythmic. The ‘timbre’ of the breaking sticks had a vaguely purposeful feel, and so invited a more industrial analogy. Towards the end of the piece, the performers began a warm and sustained humming that added a ceremonial flavor to the proceedings. Sticks has an organic and primal sensibility, as if we are witness to the every-day activities of some long-lost tribe.
