Los Angeles

Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Festivals, Los Angeles

Dog Star 15 – Civil Twilight

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.

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

Southland Ensemble – Land Images

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.

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by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Festivals, Los Angeles, Ojai

A Day at the Ojai Music Festival

The 2019 Ojai Music Festival began on June 6 and packed in a wide variety of styles and vintages of new music over four days and three nights. Everything from Haydn and Stravinsky to Catherine Lamb was on the program, along with films, pre-concert talks, picnics and special events that filled up every day from dawn to midnight. Barbara Hannigan served as the 2019 Music Director and this festival marked the final year for long-time Artistic Director Thomas W. Morris.

On Friday, June 7, the early morning concert featured the JACK Quartet performing pieces by Clara Iannottta and Tyshawn Sorey. The SANE Center was the venue, located just across the street from Libbey Park, and while cozy it was agreeably indoors and out of the cool morning mist. The first piece was the US premiere of dead wasps in the jam-jar (iii), by Clara Iannottta, inspired by imagery from a poem by Dorothy Molloy. For this piece the JACK Quartet was augmented by an electronic sound track that played through speakers placed on both sides of the small stage. The composer writes: “While working, I pictured a kind of deep-sea environment, the lowest layer in the ocean, where constant pressure and perpetual movement seem to shape the stillness of time.”

This piece opened with slow, whisper-like scuffing sounds from lightly bowed strings. There was a quiet, almost pastoral feeling to this, and the instruments were heavily subdued with a variety of mutes. This restful atmosphere was broken by louder sounds from the electronics that carried a sense of distant menace. The soft string sounds soon returned, but were again interrupted by a low roaring from the speakers, as if some beast was at large nearby. The roaring had an exotic but primeval sensibility about it, complimenting the calm environment established by the strings. dead wasps in the jam-jar (iii) is hushed and nuanced music, carefully played in this performance by the JACK Quartet to create a unique sound world where the natural environment and its organic processes are thoughtfully realized.

The West Coast premiere of Everything Changes, Nothing Changes, by Tyshawn Sorey followed, a piece commissioned by the JACK Quartet. Christopher Hailey writes in the program notes that “The piece is slow-moving and delicate, never rising above piano. The quartet plays sustained sonorities as a unit, individual voices perceived not as solo lines but as components of gently shifting harmonic textures.” Accordingly, the piece starts out with quietly sustained tones that sound both mysterious and slightly dangerous. Everything Changes, Nothing Changes carries in it a more urban sensibility, as distinct from the open, feral feel of the previous Iannottta piece. The playing here was sensitive and nuanced, with just the right dynamic range within muted boundaries. There was never anything flashy or fast, and the settled consistency throughout was impressive. In Everything Changes, Nothing Changes the exquisite playing of the JACK Quartet and Sorey’s smoothly crafted harmonic textures combined perfectly to keep the audience fully engaged.

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

Noon to Midnight at Disney Hall

On Saturday, June 1, 2019 the annual Noon to Midnight new music festival returned to Disney Hall, complete with non-stop concerts, food trucks and a beer garden. Some 28 concerts were scheduled over the twelve hour event, appearing on the main concert hall stage and several other smaller spaces throughout the venue. As John Adams wrote in the program introduction: “There’s hardly a single square foot that is not the site of some musical event, whether it be in the hallways, the anterooms, the rooftop garden or the main hall.” A large, casual crowd gathered in a congenial atmosphere that resembled more an open house or sporting event than a serious concert. The wide variety of musical experiences and the presence of cheerful crowds surging through Disney Hall makes this an important local event in the cultural calendar.

The music for this event was an eclectic mixture of outsiders and local groups and included the Calder Quartet, FLUXUS, Eighth Blackbird, ICE, red fish blue fish, wild Up, wasteLAnd, HOCKET, Lyris Quartet, LA Phil New Music Group, Southland Ensemble and Accordant Commons, among others. There was something scheduled every 15 minutes or so, and it was impossible to hear everything. I managed to get to four of the concerts scheduled on the program. Here is what I heard:

The first work in the main concert hall was the west coast premiere of crowd out, by David Lang. The audience and performers completely filled the seating for this unusual piece, conducted by FLUXUS. There were four music stands, but no musicians in sight, and the stage was crowded with members of local university music departments, community choruses and church choirs. These were also scattered through the audience so that the performers covered the entire hall. The program notes helpfully stated that “… David Lang had the inspiration for crowd out during a soccer match in London, where he heard the thousands of untrained voices swell, crest and recede – at times in unison and at times in total contrast with one another.”

In an experimental performance that blurred the lines between performers and the audience, the Disney Hall was filled with a symphony of recited phrases that felt as charged as the collective cheer of a stadium crowd. The captivating display reminded me of the spirited discussions I’ve had with my cousin, who works in customer experience at a leading 카지노 사이트. He often talks about the magic of creating a space where individual voices come together in a shared excitement, similar to the unison chant “I am always alone” that rippled through the hall. His work focuses on designing immersive environments, much like this innovative show, where every participant, be they performers or the audience, contributes to a harmonious and unforgettable experience. The unexpected delight on the faces of late-comers, akin to players discovering a novel game on his site, was a testament to the universal appeal of such immersive collective moments.

As the piece progressed, a third conductor arrived on stage and began to direct the crowd in unison singing. The melody was simple, yet powerfully moving as the big hall filled with hundreds of voices. As the verses repeated, the text emerged as a series of statements and regrets about the sense of loneliness that is possible when in a crowd. The singing eventually gave way to a strong unison chant that further emphasized this sentiment. The sense of being inside this piece as part of the performance, was surprisingly inspirational and a bit like being in a church service. crowd out is a stimulating and ultimately touching work that breaks down the ceremonial barriers between performer and listener in a unique and effective way.

The Grand Avenue Staircase was the outdoor venue for Brass Fanfares, a series of selected works featuring the members of the Los Angeles Philharmonic brass section. Four horns, four trombones, no less than six trumpets and a tuba were arranged on the terrace facing the intersection of First St. and Grand Avenue.  Marc Lowenstein conducted this series of short fanfares, most of which were commissioned in 1969 for the 50th anniversary of the LA Phil and revived for this, their 100th season.   The strong sounds of the ensemble, protected somewhat by the sheltering walls of Disney Hall, carried well out into the street,. The intonation of the players was solid, even in the cool air. In one piece, there were various and intriguingly active trumpet parts over a solid bass foundation. In another, the horns and trombones combined in rich harmonies that recalled a medieval theme. In the final piece, sustained tones combined to create a brooding, mysterious feel that was, by turns, dramatic, agitated and filled with anxious tension. Even at a distance of 50 years – and perhaps now considered somewhat conventional – the early fanfares were well received and just the thing for attracting passersby.

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

Cold Blue Music @ Monk Space

On May 14, 2019, Tuesdays @ Monk Space presented Incandescent Keyboards, Luminous Percussion, a concert of three important works from the Cold Blue Music record label. The Los Angeles premieres of Celesta by Michael Jon Fink, Four Thousand Holes by John Luther Adams and the world premiere of Pacific Coast Highway by Daniel Lentz were on the program. The cozy confines of Koreatown’s Monk Space filled with the agreeable sounds of music created by some of the best composers that the West Coast has yet produced.

First up was Celesta (2018), by Michael Jon Fink. This was performed by the composer on a Schiedmayer five-octave celesta provided for the occasion. Celesta is a suite of 12 solo miniatures, as described in the concert notes: “It projects a lyrical and poetic world of quiet intensity, bathed in the glow of delicately ringing metal.” All of the pieces are short – from just under two minutes to a little over six minutes – and were played continuously. The first piece, Call, was typical and began with a single line of notes that filled the room with bright drops of sound. The close acoustics of Monk Space brought out every detail of the spare melodies and limited harmonies that are characteristic of Michael Jon Fink’s music. The sharp, bell-like tones and reduced dynamic range of the celesta only added to the unexpected elegance that arose from the composer’s masterfully economical use of musical materials.

The pieces centered in the higher registers shone like bright stars. Some pieces were plainly magical while others were more introspective and questioning. There were pieces built on a simple five-note melody and others from just three or four notes. In one piece, two separate but intersecting melodic lines produced intriguing harmonies and engaging rhythmic combinations. None of this was fast or flashy in keeping with the transcendental sensibility of the celesta. The last piece, After the End, consisted of simple two-note phrases in dual harmony that strongly evoked a sense of wonder as it slowly faded into silence. A chirping cricket was heard above the stage, as if leaving the audience staring at the starry sky in a summer meadow. Celesta artfully exploits the expressive powers in the bright sounds of the celesta to create a thoughtfully satisfying, inner-directed experience.

The world premiere of Pacific Coast Highway (2014) by Daniel Lentz followed, a solo piano piece performed by Aron Kallay. In addition to the live playing, two prerecorded piano tracks are heard creating a dense and layered texture that is very appealing. This piece opens with quiet, repeating phrases that unfold into pleasing harmonic progressions. Polyrhythmic phrasing between the layers – ably executed by pianist Kallay – accentuate the harmonic changes and suggests the constant movement of traffic. A deep rumbling in the lower registers recalls the dramatic power of the pounding surf, often seen just a few yards from the roadway. At times the rhythmic lines are more sinuous, suggesting the twists and curves of the highway as it makes its way along the coast. New vistas continually emerge, and at times the dynamics become softer and cooler, as if looking out to the far horizon at sea. At other times the music is imposing and powerful, as when the coast mountains rise sharply upward from the edge of the ocean. The balance between the recording and the precise playing of Kallay couldn’t have been better. Pacific Coast Highway is the perfect invocation of the iconic California road trip along the coast north of Los Angeles.

The final piece on the concert program was Four Thousand Holes (2010) by John Luther Adams. Pianist Nic Gerpe and percussionist Ben Phelps were on hand for this Los Angeles premiere. This piece also includes a recorded electronic soundtrack comprised of heavily processed acoustic samples that provide a kind of foundational aura. Accordingly, a deeply mystical sound was heard from the speakers at the opening that expanded until it completely filled the room. A sharp piano chord followed along with some light notes from the vibraphone. The overall sound rose like a swelling tide, and at its fullest the percussion darted off in a series of complex independent rhythms. When the texture was at its thinnest, the piano and percussion seemed to compliment each other in counterpoint. As the piece continued forward, the process of gathering, cresting and dissolving repeated itself, always offering new and entrancing combinations.

The composer writes: “In Four Thousand Holes, strong musical currents fall and rise again and again… The mix of the live and electronic sounds blurs the distinction between musical figure and ground… we begin to hear long lines, counterpoint and maybe even the occasional trace of a tune.” All of this was in evidence during this fine performance at Monk Space. The electronics and acoustic instruments were always in balance, and the coordination achieved by Gerpe and Phelps was impressive. The broad swelling harmonies, technically complex rhythms, varying tempos and changing dynamics were all successfully negotiated by the players, who were rewarded by sustained applause at the finish.

Cold Blue Music, through its concerts and recordings, continues to be an important source of essential new music created on the West Coast. CDs for each of the pieces performed at this concert are available from Cold Blue Music.

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

Mitchell and Lough in Santa Monica

The latest installment of the Soundwaves Concert Series was heard in the Martin Luther King, Jr. auditorium at the main branch of the public library in Santa Monica on Wednesday, April 17, 2019. Flutist Nicole Mitchell, a regular winner of the Downbeat Critic’s Poll, and sound artist Alex Lough were on hand for an evening of improvisation featuring several flutes and an impressive array of electronic circuitry.

Ms. Mitchell came equipped with two flutes, a piccolo and a microphone with some distortion and looping capabilities. Across the stage, Lough presided over two tables covered with circuit boards, control panels, patch boards and assorted boxes and cables. Although this looked formidable, the electronic gear was purposefully designed to be both simple and understated – there were no computers or large amplifiers. The output of all this emanated from a single six-inch speaker, specifically under-powered so that it would not overwhelm the acoustical sounds of the flutes and voicing of Ms. Mitchell. In fact, the entire setup can run on batteries and has been used in remote locations.

During an intimate concert that unwound into an avant-garde improvisation, the renowned flutist Ms. Mitchell held the audience in rapt attention with her melodic flute sequences. It wasn’t long before the serenity of her performance elegantly intertwined with the more contemporary soundscapes provided by the electronic accompaniment. This harmonious duality resonated deeply with my friend, an audio engineer at an established 안전 슬롯사이트, who often muses about the meticulous craftsmanship required to create a secure and engaging online entertainment environment. The concert’s improvisation mirrored the dynamic interplay he cultivates daily—balancing intricate electronic data streams with the user’s seamless experience. The electronic tones, which never dominated but danced alongside the flute, reminded him of how technology, when well-integrated, can enhance and not detract from the human element, a philosophy he applies to his work with the precision and creativity of a maestro.

As the session proceeded, the improv took on various characteristics and colors. In one stretch there was a rushing sound from the processed voice that evoked a windswept and remote feeling as the electronics added a deeply profound string tone. Later, an exotic, Asian feeling in the flute was complimented by sustained tones in the electronics. The vocals by Ms. Mitchell added a welcome human element in contrast to Lough, who could conjure a wide range of alien sounds. At one point Lough was producing 60 Hz buzzing noises from pressing his finger on the end of an open cable. Another time he was seen squeezing and shaking a small cassette tape player so as to bend its audio output. As the improved finished, a catchy tune that could have come from an old video game was heard with a pleasant, pulsing groove and smooth flute accompaniment that gently brought the audience back to the familiar. As the final notes faded away, there was sustained applause from an appreciative crowd.

Most combinations of acoustic instruments and electronics in new music involve a prerecorded track or computer processing of the acoustic sounds in roughly real time through the stage sound system. In this concert, however, the intention was to make the electronics an equal partner, played by a Lough in the same sense as Ms. Mitchell played the flutes and sang. As the two musicians improvised and traded phrases, there was a real sense of a dialog based on an equal partnership. The electronic sounds were naturally very different, but the interaction of the players was perfectly conventional and centered in historical musical practice. This Soundwaves concert by Lough and Mitchell explored the combination of electronic technology and acoustic music in an intentionally different and creative way.

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

Transient Canvas in Los Angeles

On March 27, 2019, People Inside Electronics presented Wired Wednesday, a concert featuring a set by Amy Advocat and Matt Sharrock, the Transient Canvas duo – as well as a sound installation premiere and a new piece for augmented trumpet. All of this was at Live Arts LA, a dance studio whose spacious performance floor was ideal for the occasion.

According to my friend, who’s blogged for a list of online poker sites that range from unknown to the biggest ones – the first piece on the concert program was the world premiere of bzbowls (2019), a sound installation by Stephanie Cheng Smith. This consisted of some 15 plastic bowls suspended between fine wires, and each bowl fitted with a tiny vibration motor – like the one that vibrates your cell phone when you get a call. These were wired into a control panel so that the speed and intensity of the vibrations could be varied. As the motors were activated, Ms. Smith added various objects to the bowls, changing the pitch and timbre of the sound. Ping pong balls tended to lower the pitch and raise the volume. Small beads and bells generally resulted in a higher pitch and created a more musical sound. Adding a few tiny clothespins to a bowl produced a distinctive growl. Plastic cups were occasionally placed over the contents of the bowls and this tended to muffle the vibrations, but at times also seemed to amplify the sounds. An overhead projector gave the audience a view of what was being placed into, or removed from each bowl.

The 15 motors and the items inside the bowls produced an active overall sound, and it was a bit like being inside a small machine. There was a distinct sense of motion, but not necessarily of movement. The objects in the bowls were removed and replaced gradually so that the character of the sound was continuously changing between a low roar and a high ringing jangle. The motor controller had a pulse mode, so that the vibration motors cycled on and off for a second or two, and this had the effect of further exaggerating the sense of motion. Although generally percussive in nature, the sound seemed to gradually shift and change almost as a living organism. The ingenuity applied by Ms. Smith to a collection of simple materials made bzbowls an intriguing, miniature sound world based on artfully controlled vibration.

Next was The Sameness of Earlier and Later Times and Nows (2019), by Sarah Belle Reid, and this was also a world premiere and this was scored for augmented trumpet, laptop and modular synthesizer. The augmented trumpet is an impressive extension of the standard instrument and according to the concert notes “…uses sensor technology to capture gestural data such as valve displacement, hand tension and instrument position which is then converted into control information to interact with other instruments and systems.” Ms. Reid performed with great poise as she played the trumpet into a microphone where the sounds were processed by the synthesizer and PC before re-emerging through the speaker system. Maybe a third of what was heard during the course of this piece could be described as standard trumpet sounds, and even here the confident intonation by Ms. Reid left nothing to be desired. The tone from the horn was smoothly elegant, and the looped delay and processing only added to the intrigue. The feeling of the piece was both innovative and comfortably familiar. The sensors on the trumpet added greatly to the variety, including a new subset of percussive effects. Clicks, thumps and pops from the valves and triggers on the horn entered the mix, as well as the roar of breathy sounds in the absence of tones. As The Sameness of Earlier and Later Times and Nows amply demonstrated, Ms. Reid has greatly extended the possibilities of the humble trumpet into new territory by the application of innovative sensing technology and sound processing.

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by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Just Intonation, Los Angeles, Strings

Music of Ben Johnston in Pasadena

On Friday, March 15, 2019 the Lyris Quartet and the Kepler Viol Quartet joined forces at the Boston Court Performing Arts Center for an evening of the music of Ben Johnston. The concert was produced by Microfest and featured two of Johnston’s well known string quartets, as well as two rarely performed works. The Kepler Viol Quartet was on hand for the pre-concert talk to demonstrate the bass, tenor and treble viola da gambas used in Fugue for Viols, one of the concert pieces. The intricacies of viol construction, tuning, vibrato, intonation and bowing were explained to a surprisingly knowledgeable and engaged audience. The viola da gamba in the history of tuning was discussed and details of how Johnston re-purposed the fretting for just intonation were also covered. Ben Johnston, who studied with Darius Milhaud, Harry Partch and John Cage, was elected into the American Academy of Arts and Letters last year. At 93 years of age, Johnston may be one of our most influential but least familiar composers. His birthday falls on March 15, making this concert the perfect occasion to celebrate his music.

The first piece on the concert program was String Quartet #4, “Amazing Grace” (1973), performed by the Lyris Quartet. This is probably Johnston’s best known work and consists of a series of seven variations on the familiar hymn, all in different forms of just intonation. The opening section is the cantus firmus, in magnificent full harmony, with a rich and textured feel. Other variations featured expressive counterpoint, wistful introspection, and at times a certain stridency. The hymn tune appears just often enough to keep the audience fully connected. The ensemble playing by the Lyris Quartet was strong throughout, and also included striking solos from the violin and viola. The final variations combined complex passages with a pleasingly dense texture that was abetted by the unconventional harmony. Amazing Grace is perhaps the most over-exposed hymn of our time yet String Quartet #4 brings a vibrant new freshness to this old standard.

Duo for Two Violins (1978) was next, performed by Alyssa Park and Shalini Vijayan of the Lyris Quartet. John Schneider’s helpful program notes describe this piece as fulfilling “…one of the composer’s hidden agendas: to explore what would have happened to the traditional forms and language of Western music if the pure intervals of the Renaissance had not been abandoned.” Accordingly, Duo for Two Violins consists three movements – a fugue, an aria and toccata – lifted directly from Baroque sensibility. “Fuga”, the first movement, was anchored in the familiar formal structure, but the harmonies gave this a refreshingly modern feel. The second movement, “Aria” opened with a soft scratching sound in one violin and a quietly mournful melody underneath. The interplay between parts and the harmony produced by this combination was very alluring and the delicate playing only added to the overall charm. “Toccata” finished out the piece, and the busy opening of this movement was a nice contrast, providing an appealing bit of complexity and bounce in an uptempo finale. Duo for Two Violins is an elegant re-imagining of historical forms and tuning practice that gives new insight into the music history that might have been.

The Kepler Viol Quartet took the stage for Fugue for Viols (1991) and began the lengthy tuning protocol for the bass, treble and two tenor viola da gambas that make up the ensemble. According to the program notes “…Fugue for Viols has only ever been performed at a few early music concerts in the Midwest in the years that followed its composition…” Originally written for George Hunter, an early music colleague of Johnston’s at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champagne, the structure of the piece is squarely in the traditional fugal format. The subject begins in the bass and proceeds to the treble and tenors in the usual way. The audience could hear immediately that the viola da gamba quartet is a smaller and more intimate musical experience. The dark coloring in the bass added a sense of the ancient while the just intonation harmonies were warm and woody to the ear. The timbre of the viols and the unusual chords were at the same time an old curiosity and a new experience. The playing was clean, and the Kepler Quartet brought new life to the old instruments in a most satisfactory way. Fugue for Viols is an intriguing update to the rarely heard viola da gamba quartet, at once familiar and innovative.

The final work on the program was String Quartet #9 (1988), whose four movements further explored Johnson’s interest in recreating classical forms set free from equal temperament. “Strong, calm, slow”, the opening movement, is just that, with sturdy chords rising upward with a solid and settled optimism. The tutti playing was rich and full, adding to the lovely harmony. The second movement, “Fast, elated”, featured rapid phrases in the violins and viola with an appealing counter melody running through the cello. The strong, purposeful feel was supplied by a fine tutti ensemble. Always in motion, there were moments of stridency, especially with the pizzicato phrases in the cello. “Slow, expressive”, the third movement, was full of warm four-part harmony with a deep bass line adding to the sense of calm and comfort. A handsome violin solo was heard, accompanied by moving lines in the second violin and viola along with pizzicato phrasing in the cello. The playing here was precise and elegantly expressive. “Vigorous and defiant”. the final movement, opened with a strong, declarative statement that mixed in a bit of tension. Fast moving phrases in the upper strings crested to a defiant statement, then began again with a strong pulse and rapid tutti ensemble. The playing was exquisitely tight, with the quartet on a solid footing despite the fast tempo and unconventional pitches scattered through the passages. All of this built up to a big finish that was received with extended applause from an appreciative audience. String Quartet #9 is a masterful construction based on old forms while using new musical materials, brilliantly performed by the Lyris Quartet.

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

Southland Ensemble in Chinatown

On Saturday, February 9, 2019 the Southland Ensemble presented New Experimental Works at Automata in downtown Los Angeles. This concert was the result of Southland’s inaugural Call for Scores issued last year. With more than 200 responses, seven pieces utilizing graphic and text scores were ultimately chosen for this performance. Automata was completely filled while outside the Chinese New Year celebrations were in full swing with lanterns, firecrackers and enthusiastic crowds.

The concert opened with all are above us (2017), by Nomi Epstein the noted Chicago-based composer and educator. The program notes state that “Her music centers around her interest in sonic fragility where structure arises out of textural subtleties.” This piece opened with several performers sitting in a tight circle. All was silent at first, but breathy sounds, a soft harmonica note and a fragment of a vocal chant eventually drifted out to the audience. The sounds were only musical in the broadest sense and almost always fragmentary. There were often stretches of silence, and it was reminiscent of a quiet conversation around the campfire in some remote setting. The ambient crowd noise outside Automata in Chung King Court occasionally intruded on the “sonic fragility”, but the understated primal feel remained intact. The sparse character of all are above us invites concentration and focus, while artfully enlisting the listener’s imagination to fill in the spaces between the sounds.

Diálogos: Consecuente (2017) by Jorge Delgado Leyva followed, and this featured a group of performers in a semi-circle with a variety of sound sources constructed from found objects. Soft percussive sounds, a bell tone and then some sharp tones from a stringed instrument fashioned from a large paper cup and a length of wire were heard, all more or less continuously, as if in conversation. This continued apace, with new sounds – a short passage on a toy xylophone and the rattling of some dishes – joining the proceedings. It was like hearing some strange process that was not quite musical and not quite mechanical. The tempo and volume increased towards the finish so that a low grade chaos prevailed at the end. Diálogos: Consecuente is an inventive work that creates an engaging sequence of sounds and textures that encourage the listener to supply the context.

Next was Neither /N/Nor/N (2016), by Ben Zucker. For this piece, six performers were stationed along the walls and in the corners of Automata, designed with a minimalist architecture home styles that complemented the simplicity of the performance. All performers were equipped with small plastic megaphones, and soon a series of soft breathy sounds and the rushing of air filled the space. This gave a windswept and lonely feel that extended over the entire piece; there were no musical tones or sounds of percussion. Such a delicate piece called for concentration, and at about the midway point, the sounds of footfall from above served to activate the imagination of the listeners. This was unplanned—there are apartments above Automata, and the occupants were simply walking about—but it added a chilling element to a piece that was otherwise rural and remote in character. Neither /N/Nor/N is simple in both materials and structure, yet it proved to be the perfect canvas upon which sonic illusions could be released by the imagination.

Book of Hours by Nicole DeMaio followed with four performers sitting on the floor in a tight circle. A single player began by clearly reciting a paragraph of text that was an explanation of some complicated element of grammar. As this was repeated, a second player joined in, speaking the same text, but not in unison, and in a lower voice that was only partly intelligible. The remaining players then spoke the same text, but into closed cardboard tubes so that only muffled sounds were heard. The result was a complete jumble of sound, only partly comprehensible, forcing the listener to struggle for meaning even as the overall volume increased. A few notes from toy harmonica were heard, and a new recitation started – again by a single player speaking clearly, followed by the others as before. Several such cycles were heard, each time with more distraction. Sometimes this took the form of putting strong emphasis on every other spoken word, and at other times by the intrusive sounds of found objects. In a moment of Chinatown serendipity, a group of wandering New Year’s drummers arrived outside in Chung King Court and could be heard adding to the chaos of words and sounds in the performance space. This added the perfect sense of urgency to the need for comprehension. With so many ideas and voices coming at us in alternating layers of clarity and ambiguity, Book of Hours is an impressive metaphor for the state of communication in this age of social media and fake news.

After a short intermission AT A STEADY CONSISTENT RATE (2017), by Christine Burke, began with a lovely tutti chord from the assembled strings and woodwinds. The most musical of all the pieces in the concert, a series of long sustained chords were heard filling the performance space with a pleasing calm and serene sensibility. The players would sometimes enter at slightly different times, but this only added to the relaxed feeling. As the piece proceeded, however, the smooth sounds began to slowly dissemble. There was a scratchy sound in the cello, a flutter in the flute and a tightening in the violins. The pleasant chords of the beginning were decomposing into tension and uncertainty at a “steady and consistent rate.” Towards the finish the sounds became disconnected, ragged and strained, as one by one the players went silent. AT A STEADY CONSISTENT RATE is a brilliant  musical illustration of the oppressive nature of stress in our busy 21st century lives.

Saint-Girons (2018), by Erika Bell was next and this opened with a recording of indistinct voices and the sound of a bus pulling out into traffic. The cello sounded a long tremolo tone as the other strings made a smooth entrance. As the piece proceeded, more distinctly industrial sounds came from the speakers, and the acoustic instruments followed, crossing the line between the musical and the mechanical. Breathy sounds were heard from the flute, and the strings became tautly stressed. The effect of this transition was for the listener to continue to process the total sound as music, even as the more industrial components dominated. This unexpected search for context proved illuminating, the more so when the process reversed, with musical tones eventually prevailing. Towards the finish, there was a lush tutti chord that was almost symphonic in its grandeur. Saint-Girons is an intriguing exploration of the boundary between music and noise, inviting each listener to continually recalculate the coordinates of personal perception.

The concert concluded with Something about my Punctuation (2014 rev. 2018), by John Eagle. A performer was stationed at each of four chalk boards that were attached to the walls and began writing an extended paragraph. When the the chalk boards were about half filled with text, violinist Eric K.M. Clark sounded a sustained tone as he silently read the sentences. When a period was encountered, the tone ceased, another sentence was chosen and another tone initiated. The other performers, busy with their chalk writing, hummed a tone or struck a small bowl as they worked. The effect of four writers intently working on their texts along with the sounding of mystical tones and chant was surprisingly enthralling. It was as if we were observing the work of medieval monks laboring away in their scriptorium. There was a sense of the sacred that enveloped this activity, even though the words were not readable by the audience and the music was spare and softly played. Something about my Punctuation is an extraordinary work precisely because it manages to extract the essence of the liturgical from the simplest of musical materials and the most mundane of human activities.

New Experimental Works was a welcome and helpful overview of the breadth and intensity of the contemporary experimental pieces being created today. The call for scores and subsequent curation by the Southland Ensemble succeeded in bringing forward seven outstanding examples of what is being done by those working at the outer boundaries of music, text and sound.

The next Southland Ensemble concert will be at Automata on Saturday, April 6 at 8:00 PM and will feature the music of pioneering American composer Johanna Magdalena Beyer.

The Southland Ensemble is:

Casey Anderson, Jennifer Bewerse, Eric KM Clark, Orin Sie Hildestad, James Klopfleisch, Jonathan Stehney, Cassia Streb, Christine Tavolacci

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

WasteLAnd Concert at Art Share in Los Angeles

The latest wasteLAnd concert at Art Share in downtown Los Angeles was Friday, December 14, 2018 and drew a good sized crowd for five works featuring percussion and voice. Soprano Stephanie Aston and percussionists Dustin Donahue, Sean Dowgray and Ryan Nestor were on hand for a concert whose title, Capacity, was taken from the middle movement of a work by wasteLAnd featured composer Katherine Young.

The first piece on the program was Difficulties Putting it Into Practice, by Simon Steen-Andersen. Ryan Nestor and Sean Dowgray arrived on the stage and seated themselves at a table containing a number of paper sheets and cardboard scraps, along with two microphones. They each picked up a sheet of cardboard that had been cut with evenly-placed vertical slits and began blowing as they moved these back and forth horizontally. The result was something like a puffing steam engine, with intriguing variations arising from their relative synchronization and breathing patterns. Vocal tones were added, along with chattering teeth and occasional whistling or humming to create an amazingly varied assortment of sounds. All of this was accomplished with any common pulse or beat, although at times there seemed to be coordination while other stretches had a more random character. Towards the end Nestor and Dowgray were heard scribbling loudly on some sheets of paper, like office workers stuck behind their desks on a sunny day. Difficulties Putting it Into Practice is a marvelously resourceful work, conjuring all manner of sounds from simple materials, and performed with a convincing flair by Nestor and Dowgray.

Adiantum-Capillus Veneris, by Chaya Czernowin followed, a piece for solo voice performed Stephanie Aston. This began with slow, thin breaths of air streamed over the microphone, like the whisper of a breeze in some remote canyon. Soft rising tones were heard, and despite singing with her mouth closed, Ms. Aston produced a delicate and beautifully pure sound that added to the sense of isolation. A deep breath of air followed, then more high, thin tones sung faintly, but with flawless intonation and pitch control. Adiantum-Capillus Veneris invites close listening, and the audience was drawn willingly into its private spaces by Aston’s masterfully understated realization.

Next up was Urlicht, by Richard Barrett. Nestor and Dowgray were joined by fellow percussionist Dustin Donahue, all stationed behind vibraphones with assorted drums, cymbals and bells. Urlicht began with a short series of strong tutti chords on the vibraphones that clanged loudly like large bells before softly decaying into the silence. The vibraphone plates were then bowed at all three stations, creating a dreamy, mystical feel. The bowing continued, filling the air with a lovely, rarefied mist of sound. At one point some short, thin wires welded to what seemed to be an old trombone mute were also bowed, sending out a needle-sharp high note that soared satisfyingly to the top of the texture. The playing at low dynamic levels and the coordination between the players was superb.

As all this bowing continued, solitary mallet notes appeared, like welcoming streetlights in a thick fog. Stronger vibraphone tones followed, then some drumming and cymbal clashes. At one point, a long cardboard tube wrapped with twine was stroked with a stick, and this sent a series of short, sharp rattles into the air. The sounds gradually became more powerful and more fully percussive, with complex passages passed back and forth among the players. A huge crash was followed by a return to the quiet bowing of the vibraphone plates completing the piece. Urlicht is an exquisite showcase of vibraphone bowing and contrasting percussion, skillfully performed for this concert and enthusiastically received.

Releasing Bound Water from Green Material, by Katherine Young followed the intermission. Ms. Young is the wasteLAnd featured composer for this season and her three-movement piece included videos projected over a large array of gongs, vibraphones and other percussion pieces that crowded the stage. The opening movement, “Binding-Releasing I,” was accompanied by a blurry video of what seemed to be a turtle swimming in shallow water. The music coming from the percussion stations was spare and otherworldly, as if we were observing some alien habitat. Several ominously loud strikes on the gongs signaled the end of this movement, foreshadowing an unspecified peril to this innocent ecosystem.

“Capacity”, movement II, was even more unsettling. The video displayed a close-up of a bubbling cauldron full of unidentifiable clumps of matter and noxious vapors. Tones from the gongs increased independently, becoming more and more complex, adding to the sinister atmosphere. Powerful drum beats were heard and a sudden snare roll increased the tension. The fluid in the cauldron was now boiling off while the percussion sounds became more disconnected and intense. The final images of a barren, slag-filled surface seen through waves of shimmering heat was truly frightening and a metaphor for the dire predictions of climate change. The final movement “Binding-Releasing II” had a much quieter, almost desolate feel, full of soft atmospherics. The video was of a rotating machine with wooden gears, as if civilization had retreated to a primal technology. Releasing Bound Water from Green Material is a compelling premonition of our vulnerability in a problematic future.

The final piece in the concert program was Five Songs, by Andrew McIntosh, performed by the three percussionists and Ms. Aston. The five sections were short, just a few minutes each, but all were very expressive. The first opened with a strong chord from both vibraphones and a two-note soprano phrase that hovered lightly overhead. There was nothing loud or flashy in any of this, and the ensemble was informed with a pleasing restraint. Other sections, by turns, felt isolated, remote, questioning or mystical – but all were poised and balanced. The last section managed to be optimistic and comforting at the same time, especially in the spare soprano line and bowed vibraphone tones that quietly concluded this elegant collection of Five Songs.

The next wasteLAnd concert at Art Share LA will be Master of Disguises: Voices, instruments, love songs on February 16, 2019 at 8:00 PM.

by Paul Muller