Los Angeles

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Los Angeles

Isaac Schankler – Because/Patterns

Aerocade Music’s Because/Patterns is an album of experimental music by composer Isaac Schankler. Three new works are featured and performed by top Los Angeles-area musicians. Each piece is the product of the relationship that develops between the acoustic instruments and accompanying electronic constructions. Schankler is perhaps best known as the artistic director of People Inside Electronics, an organization dedicated to ambitious and innovative uses of electronics in new concert music. This album marks the high level of his efforts in this area.

The first piece is Because Patterns/Deep State, with Aron Kallay on piano, Vicki Ray on prepared piano and Scott Worthington playing bass. This begins with an electronic track full of sharp rattling rhythmic sounds that alternate on both channels. Deep, booming bass sounds from Worthington occur at regular intervals, followed by a whirring sound that increases in loudness and finally dominates. Some quietly repeating piano notes slowly push their way into the texture, gaining quickly in volume and creating a nice rhythmic groove in the process. The whirring returns, accompanied by drumming and a variety of industrial sounds – humming, buzzing, clicking and rumbling – these are imposing, although not quite menacing. A siren is heard in the foreground, sustained and urgent, building a sense of anxiety.

Synthesized string sounds appear like the sunrise on a cool morning invoking a more hopeful and optimistic feeling. As the whirring and drumming recede, a light rain of appealing piano notes is heard and soon dominates to bring a welcome sense of cheer. The ominous electronic sounds, however, return to continue the pattern of alternating layers that rise and recede as the piece moves forward. The piano playing by Kallay and Ray is warm and lyrical – immediately recognizable as inspired by human creativity. The deep electronics are never menacing, but always stand apart from the music.

As the dark mechanical sounds recur, they evoke the regimented constraints of a modern existence. When the lighter piano notes appear with their optimistic tones and agreeable rhythms, we are reminded of those times when our humanity is allowed to prevail. These two states struggle for control, but neither seems able to completely displace the other. The persistence of optimism is the message here; life is never so grim that all possibility of hope is extinguished. Because Patterns/Deep State is an artful exploration of the contending forces present in our culture, and offers a powerful assurance of human resilience.

The second work, Mobile I, features violinist Sakura Tsai along with electronic accompaniment enhanced by spectral analysis. This opens with sustained notes in the violin followed by a pause and then some light skittering with pizzicato that builds tension. The sustained tones return, but are now accompanied by a pure electronic tone that shines like a cool beacon through the increasingly complex flow of phrases issuing from the violin. The electronic tones vary in pitch but never overwhelm, acting like a calm backdrop to the now frenzied passages expertly played by Sakura Tsai. The tension ratchets higher as rough, scratchy sounds evoke a convincing sense of suffering and agony. The electronics now become more animated and percussive, adding to the level of anxiety. The violin finally breaks out in a series of fast, nicely articulated phrases, as if sprinting towards freedom before fading at the finish. Mobile I artfully contrasts the vividly expressive sounds of the violin with more reserved tones from the electronics, a combination that, surprisingly. works to magnify the emotional response of the listener.

The final track is Future Feelings and features pianist Nadia Shpachenko. This opens with a lightly metallic wash in the electronics and swirls of strong piano notes. As the piece moves forward, the piano dominates, unreeling clouds of lovely phrases played with that characteristically sensitive Shpachenko touch. Although for the most part quietly atmospheric, some drama is occasionally added when the piano dips into the lower registers in a series of rapid, descending scales. Soft beeping tones – clearly electronic – enter from underneath, yet these seem perfectly at home embedded within the lush melodies and warm textures of the piano line. The extravagantly beautiful playing of Ms. Shpachenko almost steals the show, but the subdued electronic presence is memorable precisely for how much it contributes to the warm sensibility of this piece. Future Feelings is exquisitely expressive music, with just the right balance of masterful playing and superbly complimentary electronics.

Because/Patterns is remarkable listening and a new benchmark of just how highly evolved the combination of acoustic instruments and electronics has become in the service of musical expression.

Because/Patterns is available now via digital download from Bandcamp, Amazon, Spotify, and other retailers. A 12” vinyl record with a unique color or pattern combination and can also be ordered via Bandcamp.






by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Brightwork Newmusic Trio

A Brightwork Newmusic concert was staged at Boston Court Pasadena on Saturday, March 18, 2023. A program of intensely complex music was performed, including pieces by Khachaturian and Bartok from the 1930s and three works by contemporary composers. Aron Kallay, pianist, Shalini Vijayan, violin and Brian Walsh on clarinet comprised the highly talented Brightwork trio of Los Angeles area musicians. The intimate Marjorie Branson Performance Space at Boston Court, which underwent some upgrades during the pandemic, was perfectly suited to the ensemble, the music and the audience.

The concert opened with Trio for Violin, Clarinet and Piano (1932) by Aram Khachaturian, consisting of three movements. Khachaturian was born in Tiblisi, Georgia in 1903 and was strongly influenced by the traditional folk music and dominant Armenian culture of this remote Russian province. The 1917 Russian revolution, civil war and subsequent incorporation of Georgia into the Soviet Union were significant events in his early adulthood. Khachaturian moved to Moscow to study music and eventually enrolled as a composition student at the Moscow Conservatory. Growing up in remote Armenia, enduring great political turmoil in his formative years and then submitting to the rigors of the Moscow Conservatory resulted in music of powerful expressive intensity combined with an affable exotic charm.

These attributes are on full display in Trio for Violin, Clarinet and Piano. The first movement “Andante con dolore, con molto espressione” opened with a series of pensive piano chords that became stronger on each repeat. The violin and clarinet soon entered, each with independent lines, weaving in and around each other. Aron Kallay’s piano contributed a swirl of notes, increasing the density of the texture dramatically. With the andante tempo, the feeling is solemn, yet very expressive, especially when the violin line soars in sustained tones over the moving lines below. A mix of slow phrases were followed by more rapid passages and the precision of the three players working through these complex interactions was impressive.

The second movement, “Allegro”, increases the pace significantly and independent lines pour rapidly out from each instrument. The phrasing, although complex and driven by a faster tempo, was maintained in superb cohesion – a further testament to the technical skill of the ensemble. The feeling was wide, expansive and grand. “Moderato”, the final movement, opens with a lovely clarinet solo from Brian Walsh that is answered by the piano. Fast passages follow, the clarinet doubling the violin, with both remaining solidly on pitch. As the movement proceeds, the interplay between the three instruments evolves beautifully. Echoes of folk music are heard amid powerful conventional 20th century gestures. Trio for Violin, Clarinet and Piano is a masterful mix of Khachaturian’s musical influences, skillfully performed by the Brightwork ensemble.

Jasper Drag (2000) by Alvin Singleton followed. The title refers to the horrific 1998 murder of James Byrd, Jr., a black man, who was beaten by three white men and then dragged behind a pickup truck for three miles near Jasper, Texas. This piece was originally commissioned by Michigan State University for the Verdehr Trio. The opening is a series of solemn, two-note piano chords, separated by brief silences. The clarinet enters first with low, then very high pitches that establish an unsettling atmosphere. The violin and piano enter in their turns with solo passages that add to a rising sense of distress. A long sustained clarinet tone is heard against an agitated violin, effectively increasing the tension. The ensemble occasionally plays together, but usually proceeds with independent lines. Overall, there is a certain austerity present, even in the more active sections. There are stretches of churning tutti, but the instruments mostly take their turns playing singly, sustaining the general feeling of anxiety.

This music is not a metaphor for the barbarity of the crime; there are no long wailing passages or over-the-top pyrotechnics. The feeling is rather one of deep shame for an unspeakable act of violence that has escaped from a dark past into our presumably enlightened present. Jasper Drag eloquently articulates the condemnation of a society where such an atrocity is still possible.

Dash (2001), by Jennifer Higdon was next and this began with a crash of sound from the entire ensemble. Every instrument boldly proclaimed each note, and the dynamic never diminished throughout the entire piece. The tempo was fast and the complexity of the independent lines compared favorably with the earlier Khachaturian piece. The attention to technical detail by the Brightwork trio was remarkable; it seemed as if every instrument was furiously playing all the time. Throughout, there was a joyful and rowdy feeling as the piece charged along with a seemingly endless supply of high energy. Dash might have been inspired by the relentless ride that is our daily life.

Sea Change (2009), by Pamela Madsen was next and this was something completely different. Madsen, who has created large scale works, chose the trio for this piece as a more direct way to focus her composition with its sympathetic view to ecology and the environment. The piece was preceded by a short poetic narration that ended with “You are most loved, most lost, most beautiful.” Simple and direct, the opening passages consisted of lovely repeating lines with gently moving parts in the violin and piano, sustained supporting tones from the clarinet. This was in a mild dynamic and moderate tempo, creating a stately and organic feel. The ensemble nicely evoked an aqueous sense of flow and movement, always shifting and on the move, but static in form. All of this made for a contrast to the charged and often furious music heard in the first half of the concert. As Sea Change continued it slowly gathered momentum, getting louder, faster and more syncopated. By the finish, however, the sea had changed again, dropping back into the easy restraint of the opening. Sea Change was astutely programmed for this point in the concert program and gave the Brightwork ensemble a chance to present a more intimate sound.

The final work on the concert program was Contrasts (1938) by Bela Bartok. Built around a series of dance forms, Contrasts was in keeping with the energy and vigor of the opening trio by Khachaturian, and made a fine bookend to the concert. The first movement, “Verbunkos (Recruiting Dance)”, began with a strong staccato melody in the clarinet, a pizzicato line in the violin and robust rhythms in the piano. A portentous, late 1930’s atmosphere was immediately established in the mind of the listener. There was a slightly out-of-control feel to this that never let up, perhaps evoking the inept dancing of enthusiastic soldiers. Overall it was strident, powerful and loud with an ominous undertone. The clarinet playing was particularly expressive with a number of complex and over-the-top passages.

“Pihenő (Relaxation)”, the second movement, was slow, quiet and full of sustained notes from the clarinet and violin. A low rumbling in the piano carried forward the sinister undertone that was present in the first movement. “Pihenő” provided a tense quiet after the spirited “Verbunkos” the but the disconcerting line in the piano added further gloom. The tension was nicely sustained by the ensemble as the piece continued along until it faded away in a mysterious finish.

The final movement was “”Sebes (Fast Dance)” and this marked the return to a lively tempo and strong dynamics. The resolute tutti phrasing included a roiling texture in both the piano and clarinet that built into a series of shouts. The rapid rhythms and complex surfaces were nevertheless artfully negotiated by the players. After a brief pause, the tempo slowed and the sounds became more sustained and languid. Only the piano persisted with its darker line underneath. A dark descent followed before a sudden jump back into the rush of technically difficult passages and labyrinthine lines. A very rapid violin solo was expertly performed by Ms. Vijayan and the rest of the ensemble then joined in for a furious tutti finish.

Bartok is perhaps most familiar to us through his well-known Concerto for Orchestra, a restrained and atmospheric work written during World War II. Contrasts is a much more animated and provocative piece that brings to life all of the anxieties present prior to the outbreak of the war. In the same way, the Khatchaturian piece, Jasper Drag and Jennifer Higdon’s Dash also reflected their own contemporary apprehensions. Pamela Madsen’s Sea Change gave us the space and contrast necessary for an appreciative comparison. We are fortunate in Los Angeles to have musicians capable of performing this important music at such a high level.

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

Southland Ensemble – James Tenney

After almost three years on hiatus due to the covid pandemic, the Southland Ensemble returned to the concert stage on February 3, 2023 to perform Harmonium, experimental music composed by James Tenney. The venue was Frankie, a large studio building deep in the heart of the warehouse district in Boyle Heights. The Southland Ensemble is known for performing historically significant music. In selecting works by James Tenney for this concert, they gave voice to perhaps the most influential West Coast composer of the last 30 years. Three pieces, averaging about 20 minutes each, provided a full hour of pioneering harmonies from a variety of sustaining instruments, all masterfully played by thirteen top Los Angeles area musicians.

James Tenney was born in New Mexico and grew up in Arizona and Colorado. He had a long and distinguished academic career that included the University of Denver, the Julliard School and the University of Illinois. Tenney studied with a number of acclaimed composers, including Edgard Varèse, Harry Partch and John Cage. He also spent time at Bell Labs working in electronic music and he authored a number of articles on musical acoustics, musical form and perception as well as computer music. He taught at the Polytechnic Institute of Brooklyn, the University of California and York University in Toronto. Tenney is probably best known in Southern California as the Roy E. Disney Family Chair in Musical Composition at Cal Arts where he influenced an entire generation of West Coast composers.

Tenney was a well-known composer and theorist and his many performed works were on the cutting edge of musical development during his entire career. His pioneering work in alternate tuning systems and their perception was the focus of this concert. The three pieces that were performed are all essentially extended studies in the expressive power of new harmonic vocabularies.

Harmonium #1 was the first piece on the concert program. This piece dates from 1975/76 and is scored for an ensemble of twelve or more sustaining instruments. The Southland Ensemble players consisted of a string bass, cello, euphonium, some violins, clarinets, saxophone and flutes. The players were scattered separately throughout the large expanse of the Frankie studio space with the audience around the edges. A single, extended violin tone opened the piece, soon joined by a flute and a second violin. The other instruments followed, entering at various pitches, and eventually forming a sustained tutti chord that lasted some ten or 15 seconds. The players used a stopwatch at their music stands to time the start and finish of each in a series of chords as the piece progressed. All of the chords consisted of sustained tones with a crescendo/decrescendo that added some dynamic movement.

The pitches for each instrument were from an alternate tuning scheme and were marked up on the player’s parts. An electronic tuner was also used by the musicians to find the indicated pitch when it was outside of the twelve-tone equal temperament convention. For the wind instruments this involved alternate fingerings and other extended techniques to attain the composer’s intended pitch. The result was a series of sustained chords lasting for several seconds that were comprised of unconventional pitches from various combinations and subsets of the ensemble. Listeners experienced a sampler of sounds from a new harmonic language.

The venue was a fairly large open space and the acoustic was somewhat dry. This tended to isolate the higher register instruments into individual sounds. The full tutti chords benefited from a strong bass foundation and often filled the space with lovely warm tones. The presentation of sustained chords without any rhythmic or structural component invited the listener to examine the sounds with no preconceptions or expectations. Harmonium #1 is an intriguing presentation of new harmonies that evoke new and often mysterious emotions.

In a Large, Open Space (1994), the second piece on the concert program, was completed almost 20 years after Harmonium #1 and is identical in structure. This is also scored “for any 12 or more sustaining instruments” and the disposition of the Southland Ensemble players in the large spaces of the Frankie Studio remained as before. In a Large, Open Space opens with a strong tutti chord dominated by a warm sound from the strings in the lower registers. The woodwinds soon join in, adding to the comforting overall feel of the sustained chord. The piece proceeds as before, each chord lasting about ten seconds with some small dynamic movements to engage the listener. The lower tones tended to fill the space most effectively and the higher voices – especially the flute – occasionally provided dissonance and tension. The contrast between the warmer, lower register chords and the higher dissonant tones is more pronounced in this piece. This aides the intent of the composer to evoke new emotions from the new chords created by the alternate tuning. The playing of the Southland Ensemble was both disciplined and precise in the intonation of the unconventional pitches.

The third piece on the concert program was Harmonium #7 (2000). Although separated from the other pieces by a number of years, the format is the same; a series of “sustained tones for 12 or more instruments.” Harmonium #7 began with strong tones from the cello and bass with flutes and violins joining in their register on what sounded like the same note. Other instruments entered on this tone and then slowly dissembled in pitch. This proved engaging to the ear and produced some nice harmonies. As the piece progressed, the chords seemed more congruently organized by this sharing of pitches. The low bass notes especially acted to fill the room with warm sounds as the bottom end of a great tutti chord. The harmonies in this piece seemed more connected when the bass predominated and dissonance limited to the flutes and violins in their higher registers. The experimentation over the years by Tenney with this form, had, by 2000, resulted in a more cohesive overall sound.

Alternate tuning has become almost mainstream in contemporary music today. This concert reminds us of the expressive possibilities and the new emotional power inherent in unorthodox tuning systems. This performance by Southland Ensemble of three works by James Tenney honors the innovation and influence of one of the great composers of West Coast experimental music.

Harmonium was made possible with support from #VaccinateAll58.

The Southland Ensemble is:

Jennifer Bewerse
Natalie Brejcha
Eric KM Clark
Joshua Gerowitz
Morgan Gerstmar
Heather Lockie
Michael Matsuno
Wiliam Roper
Cassia Streb
Christine Tavolacci
Marta Tiesenga
Dave Tranchina
Brian Walsh

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

Synchromy – Play Nice: An Evening of Two Harps

Elizabeth Huston and Catherine Litaker were the featured performers for Play Nice – An Evening of Two Harps, a concert presented by Synchromy and held on a rainy December 1, 2022. Originally scheduled for 2020, this concert was postponed for two years due to the Covid pandemic. Six pieces, including two world premieres, were on the program performed at the CadFab Creative gallery in the Culver City Arts District. A wide variety of unusual harp music was heard including solos, duos, extended techniques and pieces with integrated electronic processing.

The first half of the concert was titled Interstellar Space and opened with Suite Galactique, a solo work by Caroline Lizotte and performed by Catherine Litaker. This piece had two parts and the first, Exosphére, was a musical exploration of the extreme outer limits of earth’s atmosphere. This began slowly, with soft harp notes heard singly, then accelerating as more notes were added from the middle and lower registers. As the phrases moved up in pitch, the notes evoked the free and rising feeling of air escaping earth to the upper atmosphere. As the piece proceeded, more notes added a dimension of complexity that produced an introspective feeling. The playing was impressive and the shower of notes towards the finish produced a lovely sound that captured the giddy sense of the lightest of air molecules dancing in the outer reaches of the exosphere. The pitches continued moving upward and before trailing off in the very highest string register.

The second part of Suite Galactique was Hymne au Bon, and this had a more human and primal focus. As the programs notes explained: “The warrior sits down around a fire with his companions… The chattering effect in the very first bars suggest to us that the warrior is exhausted and cold after a hard struggle.” This was heard clearly as a buzzing sound created by a short piece of paper held in contact with one of the longer harp strings that was rapidly vibrating. The harp then produced a dramatic and familiar melody with a strongly Homeric sensibility. The feeling of relief that the warmth of a fire brings is present in the long runs of notes, aided by some singing by the harpist. Hymne au Bon has an ancient feel, a mixture of fatigue and wistful regret that artfully sketches the timeless image of a warrior resting after battle.

Starscape, by Jan Krzywicki, was next and intended as “…an evocation of night, the night sky and night thoughts.” This was performed by Elizabeth Huston and featured a continuous projection of changing star patterns on the back wall of the stage area. The music began with light trills accompanied by solitary notes and short runs. Drama was added as the piece progressed, with changes in dynamics, runs of notes that were variously faster or slower and some that were sharply struck. At times, the harp sounded a bit like a guitar, but with many more notes and pitches. Near the finish, a suggestion of tension crept in to the harmony but this did not detract from the overall feeling of space as mysterious and strange – but not menacing. A varied mix of playing techniques was required and this was accomplished with poise and confidence by Ms. Huston.

NCTRN V “beast of land and sea” followed, a world premiere composed by Nicholas Deyoe. The piece was commissioned by Synchromy with support from the American Harp Society. It is described in the program notes as a “solo for two harpists.” The opening tutti chord has a dark, uncertain feel and the subsequent harmonies were often dissonant but generally engaging. The two harps traded some interesting rhythms back and forth, and there was good visual communication between the players. As NCTRN V continued, a dark and murky feel developed, with the roiling texture suggesting a turbulent sea. The notes now had a more organic sound and towards the finish the harpists created a series of clicking sounds by running plastic rods along the tuning pins of each harp – all of this suggested whales signaling to each other in the dark depths of the sea. Harp music is seldom heard as a duo, and although this piece was at the margins of typical performance practice, and included extended techniques, it was played with great skill and coordination.

The second half of the concert focused on storytelling and opened with The Juniper Tree, by Rebecca Larkin. This was based on the Brothers Grimm story of the same name and was a disquieting reminder of how gruesome those old stories could be. The plot revolved around a young boy who is murdered by his step-mother, beheaded and cooked into a soup that his father was fed for dinner, unaware of its origin. The bones of the boy – all that is left of him – are buried by his younger sister under a juniper tree where his birth mother was interred. A bird, representing the boy’s spirit, soon appears in the tree singing beautiful songs. This bird flies about, collecting items from the townsfolk; a pair of dancing shoes for the sister, a gold chain for the father and a huge millstone that the bird uses to crush the wicked step-mother in revenge.

The story was vividly narrated by Leandro Cano while the harp duo supplied the accompanying music. The unfolding of this fairy tale was highly dramatic and the music kept pace with the swirl of emotions throughout. So well-matched was the music to the story line that the narration and the music became fused together in the listener’s brain. This was similar to watching a silent film accompanied by an orchestra – at some point the visual and the aural merge into a single perception. The harp playing was artfully executed and complimented the grim narration nicely. The Juniper Tree is an unforgettable story combined with artfully expressive music that leaves the listener simultaneously shaken and consoled.

Play Nice, by Eve Beglarian, followed and is well-named. The piece is intended to be performed by both Elizabeth Huston and Catherine Litaker on the same harp. Play Nice is disarmingly simple in its musical construction; the program notes describe it as “…totally diatonic, doesn’t even require two octaves on the harp, uses standard minimalist variation techniques, and in virtually every way plays nice, except for the performers. It’s actually a mean little thing.” The piece began with simple, single notes by Ms. Huston, seated conventionally at the harp. Ms. Litaker, standing to one side, joined in, adding her notes from the opposite side of the harp strings. With the repeating phrases and straightforward rhythms, a pleasing groove soon developed that was recognizably minimalist in both character and charm. The coordination between the players was impressive and visual communication had to be conducted while looking through the harp strings. Ms. Litaker commented later that she had to find her notes from what would be the opposite side of the harp from her normal hand position – a significant playing challenge, however straightforward the music. Play Nice is not only inventive and entertaining, but a chance to appreciate a duo performance in a unique configuration.

The final piece of the concert was the world premiere of {An End for a New Beginning} by Joshua Carro. This was aptly described in the program notes as “a work that symbolizes an interest to use instruments in new and unconventional ways.” Both harps were included as well as microphones, a large array of processing modules and the composer stationed off-stage at a laptop. A large three-dimensional image was projected on the back stage wall and this was programmed to change shape in response to the sounds from the two harps. The piece opened with the slapping of the lower harp strings so that deep, complex tones were sent into the microphones. The spherical image on the screen quickly morphed into a partially flattened doughnut that seemed to shimmer and squirm as the vibrations from the harps dissipated. Sticks were then drawn across the higher strings and this resulted in a series of sharp spikes around the perimeter of the image.

Various harp sounds were translated quickly into changes on the screen and the effects were mesmerizing to watch. All sorts of sounds came from the harps – buzzing, squealing, tones and thumping – everything, it seemed, except conventional melody. The extended effects were similar to those often heard on a piano, and in response the image rotated, swirled, expanded and contracted in a wide variety of shapes and contortions. The action was very smooth and the figure on the screen convincingly resembled a living organism. {An End for a New Beginning} boldly leaves behind traditional musical forms and content, replacing these with a new and intriguing amalgam of the sonic and the visual.

The Play Nice concert extended the creative horizons of the venerable harp, providing both inventive entertainment and intellectual enlightenment. The playing, while often far outside the scope of conventional harp performance practice, was superb and equal to the many technical challenges.

Play Nice was made possible by the Culver City Cultural Affairs Committee, the Culver City Arts Foundation and the American Harp Society.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Populist Records – Tuesdays @ Monk Space

On Tuesday, November 22, 2022, Brightwork newmusic’s Tuesday@Monk Space was host to the populist records recording label and several of their artists in a concert titled Ten Years of populist records. Andrew McIntosh, Rachel Beetz, Nicholas Deyoe and Aperture Duo all performed in a selection of music heard on CDs released over the ten year history of populist records. It was good to see a big crowd at Monk Space with everyone getting reacquainted after the scarcity of live performances during the pandemic.

Eggs and Baskets (1987), by Tom Johnson was the first piece on the concert program and was performed by Rachel Beetz, flute and Andrew McIntosh, violin. This is one of Johnson’s more distinctive forms, musical works driven by mathematics. The narration by Adrianne Pope explained that the notes of the flute and the violin illustrated how a number of eggs could be distributed among two baskets in all possible combinations. With two eggs – one in each basket – the flute, then the violin – each sounded a short note. Then the two eggs were placed, in turn, into each of the baskets and so the flute sounded two notes, followed by the violin. As the number of eggs increased, the placing of the eggs in the two baskets in all possible combinations grew more complex, with more pitches and notes coming from each instrument. In this way, a straightforward mathematical concept was spun into the structure of a whimsical musical piece reminiscent of Johnson’s earlier work, narayana’s cows.

As the number of eggs grew to five, 32 separate notes were required to account for all the possibilities of eggs in the two baskets. The notes now began to be perceived as a series of musical phrases and not simply as markers for the eggs; Beetz and McIntosh traded their notes with great precision and a fine sense of timing. At the finish, all of the combinations, from six eggs down to two, were played without pausing, and the stream of notes at various pitches now resembled music more than mathematics. All this all proved to be highly entertaining – Eggs and Baskets exemplifies how extraordinary music can be crafted from ordinary arithmetic.

Cat Lamb’s frame/frames (2009) followed, and this began with a sustained tone from an open violin string played by McIntosh. This pitch remained steady and constant throughout the piece while Rachel Beetz accompanied on a bass flute. The tone from the flute began at the same pitch as the violin, but was then bent slightly through a series of extended techniques. Ms. Beetz used alternate fingering as well as over-blowing and under-blowing to vary the pitch, sometimes only by a few cents and at other times by quarter or even half-tones. This produced a variety of intriguing blends and interactions as the flute note weaved in and around the steady pitch of the violin. All of the variations were sounded by the flute, and this was the more difficult instrument of the two to do so – but the playing was accomplished with great skill by Ms. Beetz. There is a haunting and introspective feel to this piece and it requires the listener to focus on the subtle changes. fame/frames provides a valuable illustration of the intimate relationships that are possible between similar pitches beyond those heard in conventional harmony.

My memories are never an accurate representation (2008), by Andrew Tholl was next, a solo piece performed by Andrew McIntosh on violin. Although very short, it was packed with every sort of advanced playing technique thought possible – and some that were not. There were squeaks, rapid runs of notes, fast phrases and great jumps in pitch. There was nothing like a melody or structure to this, just a series of highly expressive gestures and sounds. Andrew McIntosh played all this with accuracy and poise in a show of great virtuosity.

Stillness Is the Move (2022), by Rachel Beetz was next, performed by the composer. Ms. Beetz played the flute that was wired for computer audio processing, a foot pedal for looping and a position sensor worn on her head like a boom mike. As the position of her head moved up and down, the processed pitch of the flute notes also changed up or down. As the piece proceeded, bursts of flute notes were heard, like flowers sprayed into the sunshine. The sound was both airy and beautiful, producing a feeling of warm optimism. Ms. Beetz then lowered her head and the pitches of the flute were processed downward, creating an active rumbling which was looped and sustained. More higher pitches followed and these provided a vivid contrast. As the pitches changed and more sustain was activated, interesting harmonies often broke out, adding to a dreamlike quality overall. For all their complexity, the electronic elements performed flawlessly during the performance and the close acoustic of Monk Space revealed every detail in the resulting sound. The computer processing, sound amplification and flute tones worked well together and the result was very polished. Stillness Is the Move made a great first impression and this electronic configuration, combined with inspired flute playing, shows great promise.

Transgressions (2019), by Andrew McIntosh followed, performed by Aperture Duo with Adrianne Pope, violin and Linnea Powell, viola. This began with a sustained pitch in the viola, answered by the violin. Electronic sounds entered in a sort of counterpoint and this led into a nice interaction between the various tones. Some solitary pizzicato followed and the dry drawing of a bow across the strings, without intonation, added to a sense of mystery. Various extended techniques were heard with short bursts of tones, inviting the listener to appreciate the many subtle interactions and interesting harmonies. The playing by Aperture Duo was skillful and exact with Transgressions extending the vocabulary of their string duo in new and unusual directions.

The final piece of the concert was Nebula/Mattie (2022) by Nicholas Deyoe, who performed this on an electric guitar connected to a formidable array of processing modules, foot pedals and amplifiers. Each strum of the guitar brought forth a great wave of processed sound that was full of power and harmony. Even very light touches on the guitar strings translated into big sounds, and the reflections off the brick walls of Monk Space provided additional amplification. Deyoe went from strumming the guitar to bowing the strings and this seemed to increase the power by adding a stronger sense of continuity to the processed tones. At times it felt like standing in front of a thundering waterfall with the sound physically beating through your body.

Towards the finish, the bow was discarded and a guitar pick was employed. The notes were now heard singly and then processed into a shower of sounds like roman candles bursting in the air on the Fourth of July. This was not as relentless as the bowed sounds and made for a nice contrast in texture. Nebula/Mattie was an impressive solo performance demonstrating just how much sonic power can be deployed by a musician with no fear.

Ten Years of populist records was a reminder of how favored we are in Los Angeles to have several small record labels dedicated to the recording of local new music. The merchandise table offered a large number of populist CDs, a visible sign of their success and our good fortune.

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Los Angeles

Mattie Barbier – threads

The Covid pandemic of the last two years has drastically reduced live performances, and many musicians have stayed busy making studio recordings. Experimental music has benefited from this with the release of threads, a new CD from Sofa Music by trombonist Mattie Barbier. Recorded at the Tank Center for Sonic Arts in Rangely, Colorado in October of 2020, threads is an exploration of the possibilities of musical sounds when heard in an environment with ‘extraordinary internal acoustical resonance’. The Tank Center facility is built around an abandoned steel railroad water tank some seven stories high making it a unique venue for the recording of experimental music. Mattie Barbier, a talented Los Aangeles-based brass player, is focused on experimental intonation, noise, and the physical processes of sound creation. Threads – and the Tank Center – take his innovative efforts to a new level.


Since its opening in 2014, The Tank Center has been a mecca for sonic experimentation by leading new music artists such as William Winant, Todd Barton and Room Full of Teeth. The Tank acoustic boasts a 40-second reverberating sustain, and this opens up new horizons of expression in recorded performance. Mattie Barbier brings a background of virtuosic playing combined with an extensive presence in the Los Angeles new music community. His dynamic performances with wildUp, wasteLAnd music and Gnarwallaby are widely remembered. Barbier’s powerful trombone and euphonium – when combined with extremes of reverberation – what’s not to like? And how does the acoustic affect the performer? As the liner notes state: “threads is Mattie Barbier’s duo with the unique acoustics of The Tank, where, during the session, they learn how to relinquish the control and directness of playing solo.”

So how does a low brass instrument playing in a giant steel tank sound? The first track of the CD is untitled i and opens with rushing sounds and a deep rumbling bass tones that are sustained for several seconds at a time. The sounds seem to come from the lowest possible pitch register of the instrument and the tones fade in and out, often with a fluttery intonation. The sustained tones allow for unique sonic interactions within the highly reverberant acoustic. There is a powerful feel to this – like some great beast growling in its underground lair. In fact, this recording was selected as audio by the Museum of Jurassic Technology for an on-line event filmed in their Bestiary Exhibit – an appropriate realization.

Filter follows, and this is not dark or primal, but rather includes some higher pitched tones along with the fluttery lower sounds. As with the first track, the tones are long and sustained and there is now a clearly metallic color to the sound. The volume increases and fades but generally becomes more intense as the piece continues, as if we are staring into the bright rays of a sunrise. Some nice harmonies develop by overlap with tones in the middle and higher registers. All the sounds in filter are musical, but some are harsher than others, and this makes for good contrast. The high, smooth tones mix with lower ragged sound to form interesting textures. At 11:30, a low roar underneath adds drama and sense of mystery. The tones of filter seem to become thinner as it fades slowly to a finish.

Floating wave, track 3, features a low fluttering sound and varying dynamics. Similar tones are heard that make for occasionally interesting harmonies between the two. The rough musical tones that rise out of this cauldron of low sounds are very engaging, as if seeing beauty in the interior of a volcano. The pitches get higher and less fluttery as the piece proceeds – as if something is trying to form itself out of the chaos. An elementary version of alpine horns sounding across great mountain valleys is heard before the piece fades away at the finish.

Track 4 is untitled iii, and this has more rough flutter but evokes a mystical feeling. We are looking on an alien landscape, perhaps hearing the sounds of large beasts grazing peacefully. There is a sense of power in untitled iii; broad, but without malice. The final track, coda, opens with a sustained brass pitch in middle register, which then breaks into a much lower rumbling harmonic. Soon, clean tones enter, mixing in a nice harmony along with the flutter tone at the bottom. There is an earthy feel to this, perhaps hinting at human beginnings in a dark, wooded wilderness of long ago. The varied harmony and textures add to the inventive character of coda.

This new CD neatly documents the effects of the extreme acoustic environment on the instrument as well as demonstrating the ability of the performer to adapt to it. New possibilities are heard in the sound and an extra dimension of virtuosity is demonstrated by Mattie Barbier in the playing. Threads both illuminates and challenges our expectations at the edge of acoustic extremes.

Threads is directly available from Sofa Music as well as digital download from Bandcamp.

Personnel:
Mattie Barbier, trombone and euphonium
Weston Olencki, mixing and mastering

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Opera

Pamela Madsen – Why Women Went West

On Saturday, September 17, 2022, the Meng Concert Hall at Cal State Fullerton was the venue for the world premiere of Why Women Went West, a new chamber opera by composer Pamela Madsen. The opera was presented in concert format, performing the musical elements and including the supplementary videos and electronics. Brightwork newmusic provided the main instrumental accompaniment from the stage with supporting musicians stationed all along the perimeter of the hall. Stacey Fraser, the acclaimed soprano, was the vocal soloist.

Why Women Went West is the story of Mary Hunter Austin, who left her Midwestern hometown in the late 19th century for a pioneer life in California and New Mexico. This is not a bawdy Calamity Jane-type send up of the wild west, but rather a deeply personal journey of self-discovery and hard-won independence. The story is filled with all the challenges and trauma experienced by self-reliant women of the time. Through this process, Mary Austin became a feminist, conservationist, writer and advocate for Native American and Spanish-American rights. The program notes state that the opera “…chronicles Mary Austin’s escape from persecution to transformation of white women’s privilege and passion for preservation of nature, history and indigenous culture.”

Why Women Went West is a two-act opera, with seven scenes in each act for a total running time of almost 90 minutes. Act I is titled “Leaving Home-Earth Horizon” and the first scene is “Echo: Empathy Superimposition.” This introduces the setting of the opera with a multimedia presentation consisting of video, sound track and electronics. The recorded accompaniment includes soprano Stacey Fraser, Aron Kallay on piano and the CSUF New Music Ensemble. The black and white video by Quintan Ana Wikswo shows scenes of mountains, forests and streams; a western landscape that is at once familiar, but at the same time fiercely primal, with a definite undercurrent of menace. Scenes of rough outdoor camping vividly depict the difficulties of traveling in such harsh terrain. The music here is ghostly and surreal, perfectly matching the images projected on the screen. Mary Hunter Austin’s journey through the west was clearly no vacation.

Subsequent scenes in Act I built on this sense of danger and the ominous. The musicians, having taken their places on stage at the close of the introductory video, begin with loud drumming and dark piano lines. The soprano vocal starts off in a low register but the overall feeling becomes a bit brighter with the entry of a reassuring violin passage that combines nicely with Ms. Fraser’s clear articulation and strongly expressive singing. More dark scenes follow, sometimes with video and other times without – often with the soprano voice but at other times with just the instrumental ensemble. “The Birds Here”, scene IV, features a video of hawks hunting above a mountain stream, “Owl’s Breath” was next and featured some really frightening scenes of young white owls. The instrumental ensemble, dominated by the bass clarinet of Brian Walsh, created a skittering cacophony of sounds that added to the unnerving imagery. Clearly, traveling through the 19th century American western wilderness was a formidable undertaking both physically and spiritually, forming the crucible for Mary Austin’s re-invented identity.

Scene VI, “The Necessary,” opens with video of a tree-filled landscape featuring roots and leaves in a series of darkly Gothic images. There is spoken text and the Brightwork ensemble enters, with soft vocals from Ms. Fraser underneath. The video ceases; it is as if the great weight of a difficult westward journey has finally been lifted. The acoustic ensemble now dominates, adding a welcome measure of optimism. The sweetly sung vocal line weaves in and around with beautiful harmony and the overall feeling becomes resolutely hopeful. High arcing soprano lines, confidently sung, add to a sense of deliverance and attainment – the long westward odyssey has been successfully completed. The final scene is stronger still, with stirring music that brings Act I to it’s reassuring conclusion.

The buoyant finish of the final two scenes of Act I, after what had been a long series of darker settings, makes for a contrast that is all the more striking for the listener. Composer Madsen’s expressive sense of harmony and control of texture is brilliantly fluid, with each scene carefully crafted so that the shadows in the music are not tedious or oppressive. The affirming relief felt in the music of the last two scenes of Act 1 proves most effective and is all the more gratifying as a result.

Act II has the title “The Land of Little Rain – California to the Land of Journey’s Ending-New Mexico”. The music of the opening scenes immediately establishes an exotic feel with a maraca and spoken text that describes an arid and inhospitable land. The feelings from these opening scenes in Act II, however, are more settled and secure, as if the trials of surviving in the wilderness are past and Mary Austin Hunter has now arrived and is successfully embedded into new cultural surroundings.

“Prayer for My Daughter” Scene III is especially powerful with Ms. Fraser’s expressive soprano voice paired with a lovely violin accompaniment. There is the pathos of powerful loss in this, but at the same time strength in the soprano line that rises ever-upwards, bringing out Ms. Fraser’s masterful command of her voice through all registers. This piece is perhaps the most moving of the entire opera and was beautifully effective. “57 Buzzards”, part of Scene IV, features sharp twittering from the woodwinds, percussion and the musicians surrounding the audience. There is a confused feeling to this and the instruments seem to be in opposition to the spoken text, with the bird sounds representing chaos.

The climax of the opera occurs in Scene V, “The Consecrating Mother / Mary, Mary by Herself.” A softly pensive piano and cello accompany Stacey Fraser singing the words of Mary Austin Hunter. The feeling is now one of accomplishment and hopefulness, it is as if Mary has finally arrived at the conclusion of her spiritual journey, having worked out her sense of independence and identity. The singing is beautiful, confident and dramatic with accompaniment to match. “Going West”, the final scene, is a stately summing up of the protagonist’s resolve to discover herself through the physical challenges of the wilderness and by assimilation into a new cultural context.

Why Women Went West, as given in this concert format, builds a solid musical foundation for the future staged production. The scoring, playing and singing are all on a very high order as are the video, electronics and sound engineering. Why Women Went West was funded with support from the National Endowment of the Arts, Opera America and the Wurlitzer Foundation. The libretto and text were by Pamela Madsen (after Mary Austin Hunter) and Quintan Ana Wikswo. Additional texts by T.S. Eliot, Terri Niccum and W.B. Yeats. Jen Kutler realized the electronics.

Pamela Madsen will be the featured guest composer in residence at Operation Opera, Cal State University Sacramento next year. A fully staged premiere of Why Women Went West is in the planning stage for their Opera Festival, to be held in early June 2023.

A video of the concert version is now available here.

Brightwork newmusic is:
Sarah Wass, flute
Brian Walsh, clarinets
Shalini Vijayan, violin
Ashley Walters, cello
Nick Terry, percussion
Aron Kallay, piano

The CSUF New Music Ensemble
Eric Dries and Pamela Madsen, directors

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, Los Angeles

Jack Curtis Dubowsky – Bolsa Chica Calm

Jack Curtis Dubowsky has been a familiar presence in Los Angeles contemporary music for many years. He may be best known for his original scores for vintage silent films, as well as for performing them live while projecting the movies in various outdoor venues around town. Dubowsky has also scored feature films, orchestral and chamber works, as well as choral music including the acclaimed Harvey Milk: A Cantata. He is a member of the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences and the author of three books.

Bolsa Chica Calm is Dubowsky’s latest electro-acoustic album, and he writes that this music “…references ambient, environmental, and experimental music, from vaporwave to Wendy Carlos’ Sonic Seasonings.” The album comprises two 30-minute pieces – Bolsa Chica Surf and Bosa Chica Rain – both inspired by the composer’s avid passion for surfing and the Orange County coast.

Bolsa Chica Surf opens the album and appropriately begins with the calming regularity of waves lapping on the beach. Synthesized instruments soon enter in their turn, with gentle harmonies and simple melodies. The new phrases are independent and repeat so that each entrance adds a new layer of sound to the growing texture. Some high-pitched electronics whirl in the air, and might be sea birds calling across a beach. The soft, pulsing undercurrent of the surf forms a foundation on which the instruments are heard, and this produces a pleasing California sensibility. The repeating phrases of the music complement the patterns in the surf – seemingly the same but each having individual differences. This synchronization of the musical with the natural engages the listener in the same way as standing on a beach watching the waves roll in – all similar in form but separately distinctive.

As the piece continues, a harp is heard repeating a simple ascending phrase, accompanied by lower register electronics and the surf sounds. Three-note bell tones are soon heard dominating at the top of the texture. The tempo has increased slightly and there is a more purposeful feeling as the acoustic instrument sounds enter, each with its own repeating phrase. This pattern produces a feeling of quiet meditation on the beach, even as the piece is one long crescendo, building as instruments join in with new sounds.

At about the halfway mark everything fades to a moment of silence, then a new piano phrase is heard with the harp. There is a steady repeating phrase in each voice with only elementary harmony in the simple piano chords. A cello begins with rich deep tones in slow, stately passages. A flute enters on top, arcing above and there is a more conventional feel to this section with familiar instrumentation and fewer electronics. At 24:33 a distinctive electronic voice enters with sustained tones, changing the mood a bit. Towards the finish the percussion enters, and the feeling becomes one of expectation. A broad tutti chord is a final flourish, and then only the surf sounds continue for a few moments more.

Bolsa Chica Surf is a minimal, but pleasant rending of a quiet day on a California beach. The patterns of the waves and the music imitate one another and merge in the ear to form a continuum of music and nature. This is not dramatic or technically flashy, but is rather a peaceful echo of nature that leaves room in the mind of the listener for quiet meditation.

Bolsa Chica Rain is similarly structured, but evokes an entirely different range of emotions. The sound of a steady rain softly drumming on a metal roof is accompanied by some marvelously liquid percussive sounds. Violins and a cello join in with a mournful melody that perfectly captures the disappointment one feels at having to change outdoor plans because of the weather. At about 3:00, what sounds like a dulcimer enters with repeating phrases that float above sustained tones from synthesized horns. A wood block adds a strong beat as the rain has now receded into the background. Repeating bell-like phrases are heard at the top of the texture and a series of descending notes by the keyboard add to the layers of sound. By 7:00 these sounds have faded and after a momentary pause, the keyboard issues a run of solitary chords that create a slightly more somber mood – like when you feel trapped indoors by the rain. Electronic tones now offer a slightly brighter feel and new layers appear in simple, but uplifting passages. The strings enter again, now providing real optimism as if you have found something interesting to do indoors. As Bolsa Chica Rain continues on, it imparts that sense of liberation you might feel upon realizing that being stuck inside all day because of the rain isn’t so terrible after all.

The architecture of both pieces in Bolsa Chica Calm is similar; they are built up with layers of changing and independent phrases as various instrumental groups enter and fade out. This makes for accessible and engaging music without being boring or repetitive. The patterns in the music mirror the patterns of nature, and this imparts a welcoming sense of serenity. Bolsa Chica Calm is just that, and much needed in our often frenetic lives.

Bolsa Chica Calm is available for download here.

by Paul Muller
Choral Music, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Orchestral

Pamela Madsen – Oratorio for the Earth

The world premiere of Oratorio for the Earth by Pamela Madsen was heard in the Meng Concert Hall at Cal State University, Fullerton on May 14, 2022. If you couldn’t make it to the performance, a video of a quite satisfactory quality is now available online. This seven-movement oratorio is scored for a full orchestra, a large chorus and six vocal soloists who are the Hex Ensemble. The work offers a dramatic commentary on the uncertain state of nature and the earth in a time of portentous climate change. While the scope and scale of Oratorio for the Earth is daunting, composer Madsen’s score has risen to the challenge and the musicians have delivered a powerful and moving performance.

The structure of the piece is text-book oratorio, with four set-piece chorus movements interspersed with vocal solos and smaller settings by the Hex Ensemble. There are also spoken texts that function as recitative. The larger choral movements begin in winter and circle around to summer, following the seasons. The wide-ranging texts include sacred Latin as well as the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke, Robert Frost, Sitting Bull, Walt Whitman, Sara Teasdale, Mary Hunter Austin and William Butler Yeats. According to the program notes: “Oratorio for the Earth is part of a tryptic of concert-length works focusing on Earth and the environment…”

The news about nature, the earth and climate has been discouraging for at least a decade, and “Lost Horse Mine Lament”, the opening movement of Oratorio for the Earth, clearly reflects this. Church-like chimes are heard as the chorus sings softly in Latin “Truth, the light, the truth and the life – let there be light.” This continues in a warm, full harmony with the higher voices ultimately dominating. The singing turns pensive and a syncopated accompaniment in the percussion adds to the interesting harmonies in the chorus. The chorus is always very much in the foreground while the orchestral accompaniment is appropriately restrained. Molly Pease sings a beautiful mezzo-soprano solo based on a sorrowful Rilke text at the quiet finish. Throughout this movement, and through the entire oratorio, the large orchestra never overpowers the singing. This careful balance is primarily due to the skillful conducting of Kimo Furumoto, aided by the fine acoustic of the concert hall.

The succeeding movements generally follow the somber tone of the opening. “O, Lacrimosa: Ah, But the Winter”, the second movement, has an almost melancholy feeling with solemn piano chords and vocal lines that separate into layers, weaving in and out. The somber Rilke text portrays winter as death before the coming spring. “Center of all Centers”, movement III, is more unsettled, with dissonance in the orchestra and a soaring vocal line arcing above with text by Robert Frost. As with other movements, the orchestra is subdued, with only the occasional forte phrase. Towards the middle of this movement, there is a sudden tempo change as the rhythms become more active. A soloist sings from text by Rilke “Suddenly, from all the green around you, something – you don’t know what – has disappeared;” The chorus joins in full harmony and the feeling is one of an awakening as the text speaks of plants about to spring forth. The orchestra crescendos along with the chorus as this movement reaches its climax.

“O Lacrimosa: O, tear-filled figure”, movement IV, follows and this is a fine contrast to the previous chorus. The opening consists of short vocal phrases by the women soloists with only a few piano notes in accompaniment – the orchestra is tacet. A gentle soprano solo enters with the text “O tear-filled figure who, like a sky held back, grows heavy above the landscape of her sorrow.” More female singing is heard, layered in contrasting registers with a beautiful high soprano line. Movement V opens with a cautionary text by Sitting Bull: “Behold my friends, Behold my friends. They claim our mother Earth for their own.” The ominously deep chords in the piano nicely compliment the bass-baritone soloist and higher voices join in to create an austere harmony. The text soon turns to a Latin Adoramus te and this presents an intriguing fusion of traditional Christian liturgy and Native American spirituality: Christ’s sacrifice and redemption in the context of nature’s springtime renewal. The singing here by the Hex Ensemble is masterfully controlled and complimented by the suitably spare orchestral accompaniment.

The extraordinarily deep bass of James Hayden opens Movement VI “Now the Hour Bows Down” with Rilke’s dramatic text sung in German. This movement was commissioned by Nicholas Isherwood, another bass with an extraordinary vocal range. The orchestra gradually joins in adding anxiety and the feeling now becomes one of almost total despair. At this moment of deep anguish, the female voices enter in hopeful harmony and the text shifts to Psalm 69. Soon, male and female voices join together to sing “Save me O Lord, for the waters have come into my soul.” The deep bass is now singing purposefully in English as the volume builds and confidence increases. This is a welcome ray of optimism shining out at the end of what is probably the darkest movement in the entire oratorio.

The table is now set for the final redemptive movement, “Earth Horizon”, beginning with spoken text from Walt Whitman’s “A California Song! Song of the Redwood Trees.” This describes the fall of a dying redwood in the forest, accompanied by the orchestra and chorus. The feeling is at once sad and triumphant as the choral singing gradually increases in strength and optimism. The ensemble is both stirring and beautiful, without overwhelming the mood. As the choral text turns to “There Will Be Rest”, by Sara Teasdale, a sense of serenity runs through the layers and waves of music that flow outward. A series of orchestral trills and purposeful phrases are heard as the singing shifts to Rilke’s “All Is Love”. The chorus escalates the dynamic dramatically, then subsides as the text of “Earth Horizon” by Mary Hunter Austin is spoken. This is the philosophical core of the entire piece, articulating the disappointment in our treatment of the environment but leaving room for optimism; nature will recover and humans can re-establish a mutually beneficial relationship with the earth. This is followed by a haunting alto solo, soon joined by the full orchestra and chorus singing a soothing text by W.B. Yeats. With a gentle crescendo, the final movement – and Oratorio for the Earth – is completed.

With great power comes great responsibility. Perhaps the most impressive thing about Oratorio for the Earth is the discipline and restraint in both the writing and performing. The vast musical forces at the disposal of composer Madsen could well have spun out of control given the solemn subject of this work. The use of the orchestra, chorus and soloists is precisely balanced and provides a pleasingly varied sequence of movements. The many texts are used to good effect and the orchestral accompaniment always makes space for the chorus and soloists. The overall emotional arc of the oratorio is masterfully crafted and makes the final movement that much more memorable. Large-scale contemporary music is seldom heard these days but Oratorio for the Earth shows that this form can still deliver a compelling message.

The full video of Oratorio for the Earth is available here and the program notes are here. The movement titles and sung text are helpfully displayed on the screen, and this is especially useful for some of the quiet choral pieces – the chorus is seated well to the back of the stage and the softer words are sometimes difficult to hear. The program notes contain the complete set of the texts and these can be easily followed to mark when changes occur within the movements. There is also a complete list of the performers and the technical crew. The sound, video engineering, lighting and stage management are all first rate and free of any distractions. The video of Oratorio for the Earth is a fine production of a large, complex work and provides a clear conduit for the artistry on stage.

The HEX Ensemble is:

Joslyn Sarshad, soprano
Molly Pease, soprano
Lindsay Patterson Abdou, alto
Fahad Siadat, tenor, director
Scott Graff, baritone
James Hayden, baritone
Andrew Anderson, piano

The concert program listing all the performers is available here.

by Paul Muller
Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Opera, Premieres

Ian Dicke – Roman

On June 4 and 5, the Synchromy Opera Festival presented two world premieres that explored the impact of modern technology on human relationships. The first of these, The Double, by Vera Ivanova, dealt with issues of identity and the reach of technology into psychological therapy. The second opera performed at the festival was Roman, by Ian Dicke, who is both composer and librettist. Roman takes takes an unflinching look at the sinister possibilities inherent in the commercial application of artificial intelligence. Ian Dicke is noted for his previous works that are also critical of modern developments: Get Rich Quick (2009) is a multimedia piece inspired by the financial crash of 2009. Unmanned (2013), a string quartet with electronic processing, delivers a troubling depiction of the use of drones in warfare. Roman, an opera, provides a much bigger artistic canvas and is one of Dicke’s more ambitious works.

The musical accompaniment for Roman was provided by the Koan Quartet, seated along the rear of the stage and conducted by Thomas Buckley. Also included in the sounds are a number of electronic effects that are heard through a large speaker on the stage. The setting for the plot is a tech startup company and the scenery is spare – just a few chairs and a table. A large screen at the back of the stage provides for various projected effects and holds the computerized image of Roman, the avatar for a new artificial intelligence product that is under development. Only four singers, plus Roman, comprise the cast: the Inventor, sung by Elias Berezin, tenor, Employee 1 and Employee 2, sung by baritones Jonathan Byram and Luc Kliener, respectively and Lauren, the Marketing Director, sung by soprano Chloé Vaught.

The prologue opens with the Inventor busily programming Roman, or “Robot-Human”, designed by the company to be more than just hardware – it promises to be no less than “the future of companionship.” Roman has been given artificial intelligence and is programmed to absorb the nuances of human interactions processed from several thousand hours of video diaries compiled by his creators. A test of Roman’s ability to independently create music begins and the image of Roman fills the screen. His singing voice is a pleasant combination of the human and the synthetic. All this goes awry, however, when run-away synthetic sounds displace Roman’s human voice. A complete stop to the song indicates an emergency ‘power cycle’ by the Inventor – Roman went completely out of control and had to be unplugged. This failure is a serious setback in the development schedule, just as marketing promotion is set to begin.

At the start of Act I, the Inventor, Employee 1 and Employee 2 meet to try to put the project back on track. Roman sings “Am I broken?” as the Employees furiously try to correct the software as tensions mount. At this point Lauren, the young Marketing Director, enters. The Employees speak of her condescendingly, using overtly insensitive language and innuendo. All of this is silently absorbed by Roman who is programmed to observe and process human interactions.

Lauren announces her new marketing slogan for Roman: “Poetry in Emotion” and asks the Inventor for a demonstration. In response, Roman begins singing, sweetly at first, but the music rapidly turns louder, with a powerful beat and strong primal feel. The rhythms soon become broken and completely disconnected while Lauren is observed to be twitching out of control as if gripped by a seizure. Roman has apparently infected her cell phone with a virus that causes the battery to explode, killing Lauren, who falls to the stage motionless. The music turns very solemn and as Lauren’s spirit arises, the Koan string quartet plays a sweetly mournful benediction as the cast exits and the stage lights fade to darkness.

The final act opens in an arbitration court office, staged with a large conference table and a single chair. The Inventor sings wistfully about how Roman was developed with too much haste – “We wanted it all faster…” Roman appears on the screen and is confronted with Lauren’s death. “I am sorry to hear that’” he replies, but refuses to take any responsibility because he is “just a program.” The two Employees enter with the news that Lauren’s family will settle their suit for a mere ten million dollars, and that the Roman project can now go forward. The singing here turns to rationalization – Lauren died nobly in the pursuit of progress . There is one catch to the settlement, however: Roman must be renamed Lauren in honor of the deceased.

The spirit of Lauren appears and begins to take possession of Roman, who slowly dissolves digitally on the screen. In a final outburst, the dissembling Roman blurts out: “Why did I do it? Because I am you!” With the project restored, the singing by the Inventor and Employees turns triumphant: “Progress comes out of sacrifice. The world will be a better place!” At just this moment Lauren, now in full possession of her new powers, stuns everyone by whipping out her cell phone and shouting ominously: “Want to hear my new song?!” With that, the stage lights go instantly dark, the opera suddenly ends and the audience is left to ponder the chilling consequences of artificial intelligence.

The casting of Roman was exactly on target. The Employees looked and sounded like typically youthful computer nerds whose lack of social development and embedded misogyny infected Roman’s programming. The Inventor was suitably overbearing when necessary and also exhibited little respect for females like Lauren who needn’t be “bored with the technical details” of the project. Lauren was especially convincing as the character who was to die and then arise with a new personality. The singing by all was excellent and the active, almost continuous, playing of the Koan Quartet was ably performed and conducted. The stage direction, sound, lighting and costuming all complimented the production precisely.

The voice and projected image of Roman, the singing of the cast, the accompaniment of the Koan Quartet and all the other sounds coming from the stage speakers were a challenging mix for the technical crew, who nevertheless managed to integrate everything as and when the plot required. I was sitting near the stage and the output of the large speakers sometimes overwhelmed the singers, who often seemed to be singing in the same register as the accompaniment. It would have been helpful for the lyrics to have been transcribed to the screen. The many technical variables of this complex production, however, were otherwise successfully navigated.

Ian Dicke is a keen observer of social issues and this has informed his music over the years. Artificial intelligence is currently prominent in the public imagination and this opera was just the right vehicle to carry forward Dicke’s critical views of ‘progress.’ In a sense, this is an update of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein – whenever mankind seeks to create life in his own image, it invariably includes our human flaws and leads to violence. During an interview about the opera, Dicke drew an intriguing parallel to modern technological dilemmas, such as the rise of online platforms facilitating wetten ohne deutsche Lizenz, where regulatory gaps expose underlying issues of accountability and control. These systems, much like artificial intelligence, reflect humanity’s inclination to innovate without fully addressing the flaws that persist in the structure. The shocking twist at the end makes a satisfying final statement: all of humanity is flawed. Roman is a brilliantly conceived work with great vision, artfully performed, and is an opera that carries a sharp social commentary on a very pertinent topic.

Synchromy did an outstanding job of organizing, producing and staging Roman, proving that opera doesn’t have to be grand to be great.

Roman was a collaboration of:

Ian Dicke – Composer, Librettist
June Carryl – Director
Koan Quartet – Instrumental Accompaniment
Thomas Buckley – Conductor

Cast:
Elias Berezin, tenor – Inventor
Chloé Vaught, soprano – Lauren
Jonathan Byram, baritone – Employee 1
Luc Kleiner, baritone – Employee 2

Technical Crew:
Alejandro Melendez – Lighting Design
David Murakami – Projections
Nicholas Tipp – Sound Design
Natalia Castro – Costume Design
Sam Clevenger – Production Assistant

Photo by Madeline Main – Courtesty of Synchromy – used with permission

by Paul Muller