Polytempic Polymicrotonal Music in Four Pieces, by Peter Thoegersen, is a new digital release from the Fragments of Blue recording label. Since obtaining his Doctorate in Composition from the University of Illinois, Urbana, Thoegersen has devoted much of his composing career to the exploration of the musical possibilities at the intersection of rhythmic structures in multiple meters combined with scales built from microtonal pitches. This latest album builds on earlier works by simultaneously combining different meters and tempi with various microtonal temperaments. These pieces originally date from 2003 to the present, but all have been updated to incorporate expanded combinations of polyrhythms, microtonal scales and synthesized MIDI instrumentation.
The idea of combining such unconventional musical materials together would seem to be a formula for sonic chaos, but the results under Thoegersen’s artistic touch achieve a coherent and consistent elegance. This album was created by notating parts for strings, woodwinds, brass, piano and percussion as sheet music and then orchestrating with MIDI instruments. Although Thoegersen has written microtonal and polytempic pieces for performance, the music on this album is generally highly complex and often delivered at a torrid pace, so that realization is only possible through electronic means. The four pieces heard on this album represent a natural extension of Thoegersen’s technique that pushes to new limits what might seem otherwise impossible for the listener’s brain to perceive.
Two Worlds: quartertone quintets in conversation, track 1, opens the album and is representative of the wide technical scope and high ambition that drives Thoegersen’s music. According to the liner notes, this is a “…large ensemble piece with double mixed quintets and drumset that all splits into 11 separate tempi/meters during the climax and to also add full quartertone features…” This begins briskly with crisp drumming and a shower of microtonal notes in different timbres. A slightly less active section follows, with a slower melody and languid accompaniment in the lower registers. Woodwind and electronic sounds are also heard along with marimba in a busy texture.
As the piece proceeds, there is a broad variety of sound for the listener to absorb, often in a great wash of brilliant flashes and vivid colors. The microtonal pitches seem to work together nicely in a way that is always active but not overwhelming or excessively alien. The percussion sounds are especially effective and lend some order to the often agitated surface textures. A smoothly devolving finish brings the piece to a close. In Two Worlds, Thoegersen extends his expressive vision of polytempic and microtonal music to new levels of fullness.
A Day by the Strand, track 2, is the longest and perhaps the most restrained piece in the album. Four pianos in the same tuning are employed with tempi of 96, 87, 100, and 80 bpm and this facilitates greater transparency in the harmonic formulations. Soft piano chords open with short, independent rhythmic figures in accompaniment. This is relaxed and measured; almost conventional at times. Not fast or loud, but rather straightforward and laid back. Each of the piano lines are made up of simple, solemn notes expressed in multiple rhythms and microtonal tuning.
As the piece continues, the piano lines begin to syncopate against each other to build a sense of tension. Trills and ornaments add variety to the texture, often resulting in a questioning uncertainty. Towards the finish a more improvisational feeling dominates and leads to the smooth ending. A Day by the Strand provides the space and timing for the many microtonal and rhythmic processes to unfold with greater detail in the listener’s hearing.
Track 3, Fractured Consciousness, returns to the frenetic style of the opening track. The liner notes state that this piece consists of “Large meterless tuplets in different sizes…” to create “… polytempic landscapes with four tunings: 24, 26, 30, and 31 TET…” Fractured Consciousness begins with an anxious, siren-like opening that instantly evokes a frantic and complex feel. Keyboard timbre dominates in unconventional pitches so rapid and numerous that it often sounds like a swarm of buzzing insects.
The sounds arrive in quantity and with a speed that is beyond conventional human playing. This is perceived, however, as if it is a performed piece producing an interesting juxtaposition that stretches the brain of the listener. A bit like hearing a Conlon Nancarrow player piano, only faster and with complex rhythms and microtonal pitches. As the piece proceeds, a slower melody line emerges with single notes in the bass accompanied by roiling passages in the upper registers. Fractured Consciousness is an energetic, almost crushing assault on the listener’s sense of hearing – a Jackson Pollock painting is sound.
Hypercube Version III, the final track, concludes the album with more abstract and complex forms of expression in large scale. The scoring consists of 4 strings, 4 pianos and 4 drum sets in four different tempos and 4 distinct tunings. The opening of Hypercube Version III is powerful with the drum kit rhythms giving a sense of direction within the flow of the independent lines from the many instruments. A series of inventive piano melodies ride on top of the texture providing a somewhat conventional feel and an agreeable point of reference.
Around 4:00 the piece slows and turns dramatic, with long, sustained sounds. There is a relaxed, nostalgic feel to this section at times, always abstract but introspective and accessible. A gradual diminuendo in dynamic and a thinning of the texture makes for a satisfying finish. Hypercube Version III is a shorter piece, but might be the best place to begin listening as it nicely captures the essence of the many unusual musical elements in the album.
Polytempic Polymicrotonal Music in Four Pieces extends the excitement, power and nuance of Thoegersen’s inventive combinations of the unconventional.
Polytempic Polymicrotonal Music in Four Pieces is available for digital download directly from the Fragments of Blue label on Bandcamp.
On June 16 -17, 2023, the Grammy Award-winning PARTCH Ensemble presented two performances of The Wayward, a concert of music by Harry Partch. The Roy and Edna Disney CalArts Theater – REDCAT – was completely sold out for both nights, a testament to the great popularity of Partch’s music. The stage was filled with exotic Partch instruments: the Adapted Viola, Kithera I, Bass and Diamond Marimbas, the Chromelodeon, the Castor and Pollux Canons, among others. All of the most popular Partch pieces were in the program as well as some of those lesser performed. The program notes quoted Harry Partch, who wrote that these works are “A collection of of musical compositions based on the spoken and written words of hobos and other characters – the result of my wanderings in the Western part of the United States from 1935 to 1941.” John Schneider led an ensemble of top Los Angeles musicians and Kyle Gann contributed a new original piece.
Harry Partch was born in Oakland, California in 1901 and grew up in Benson, Arizona and Albuquerque, New Mexico. He took piano lessons and was playing for silent films in theaters while still in high school. His family moved to Los Angeles in 1920 and he attended the USC School of Music for two years. Partch never completed his university training, but moved to San Francisco where he continued with self-directed study and composing. He read a translation of Hermann von Helmholtz’s Sensations of Tone, and this proved to be a turning point. Partch rejected the 12 tone equal temperament tuning of conventional Western music and began to experiment with just intonation and other systems of microtonality.
Partch supported himself with a series of odd jobs including proofreading and teaching piano. He resolved to construct new musical instruments and his first successful project was the Adapted Viola, capable of playing 29 tones to the octave. His early pieces brought recognition from other composers and in 1934 Partch received a grant from the Carnegie Corporation to travel to Europe for further research into alternate tuning at the British Museum. Despite his lack of formal education, Partch was widely read and was able to continue his tuning investigations and instrument construction projects despite the challenges of the Great Depression. The wide array of Partch instruments on the REDCAT stage are the result of his efforts.
The music in The Wayward was composed between 1941 and 1968, allowing Partch to incorporate many of his unique instruments. The pieces were mostly inspired by Partch’s experiences on the road between 1935 and 1941 and generally take the form of a musical running narrative, somewhat like an operetta. The concert opened with Cloud Chamber Music and this featured the Cloud Chamber Bowls ringing out in deep resonant tones above the voices and percussion. Kyle Gann’s Amateur California Prune Picker (2022) followed, a new piece, about which more later. Barstow, that perennial Partch favorite, was next and delighted the crowd with its portrayal of eight hitchhiker inscriptions on a desert highway railing. The performers were all in period costume and the staging, REDCAT lighting and sound systems added greatly to the production values.
San Francisco had two cast members in newsboy costumes walking the aisles of the audience, hawking copies of old 1920s newspapers. The Letter was next and is just the sort of mail you would want to receive from a long-lost friend. For all its gritty economic trauma, Partch describes the Depression with equanimity and a good dose of wit. The music is often fast-paced and rhythmic, especially in the marimbas. The playing was clear cut, and the musicians often took turns conducting to cue entrances and keep everything on track. The PARTCH Ensemble players deserve much credit for performing on the Partch period instruments. These are only accessible for practice a few weeks prior to the show, have unique layouts and are tuned to many exotic pitches. Just reading the part scores is also very demanding. The difficulties are formidable, but the playing in this concert was smooth enough that the listener’s ear soon adapts to the alternate tuning and becomes comfortably immersed the Partch sound world.
The concert program also included Amateur California Prune Picker (2022), a new piece by Kyle Gann. This was performed on a subset of the Partch instruments: Chromelodeon, Adapted Viola, Gourd Tree, Spoils of War, Bass and Diamond Marimbas and the Cloud Chamber Bowls. Gann is an experienced contemporary microtonal composer who could be considered a direct musical descendant of Harry Partch, having studied with Ben Johnston, who, in turn, helped Partch in the construction of his many instruments. Even so, the challenges of composing for original Partch instrumentation are clearly daunting and Gann confessed in the program notes to feeling like an “amateur California prune picker” – an insult often hurled by Partch himself at performers who did not meet his high standards.
While the instrument ensemble on the stage evokes some similarity to the original Partch music, there are major differences. There are no vocals in Gann’s piece – most of Partch’s pieces are lighthearted narratives of depression-era life. The Partch pieces are full of snappy rhythms and light banter and the harmonies seem almost accidental. Gann’s music is more on the cutting edge of contemporary microtonal composing, exploring the emotional power of harmony and melody, with the pitched percussion in a supporting role.
Amateur California Prune Picker begins with sustained tones and a slow tempo. The adapted viola, expressively played by Derek Stein, carries this piece forward with a solemn, introspective feeling. The Chromelodeon and Cloud Chamber add to this. By the last third of the piece the viola line dominates and is very moving. This was not accomplished without difficulty, as Kyle Gann wrote in the program notes: “…I concentrated on the microtonal relationships among the various harmonies, and had to wrestle with the fact that not all of his instruments had the same pitches.” Happily, the effort was worth it. Amateur California Prune Picker is a bridge that brings the Partch tradition up to date; contemporary efforts now are focused on building out the microtonal harmonic language so that it can best express greater emotional power.
The concert concluded with two related Partch pieces: U.S. Highball and Ulysses at the Edge of the World. U.S. Highball is an extended account of a hobo traveling on the rails between San Francisco and Chicago. All of the frustrations and dangers of long-distance travel in empty freight cars are carefully explained: Do not sleep with your head touching the front or rear walls of a box car, or the sudden jerk of a train starting up or stopping quickly could break your neck. There are rail yards that should be avoided because of heavy-handed policing, and one should know what towns have the most – or least – rail traffic so as to avoid getting stuck. How to deal with the extreme cold in an unheated boxcar as the train travels over snowy mountains. Where best to find a meal – even if you have to attend a prayer meeting. The entire route was described – from the scary descent of the train in the Eastern Sierras to the risk of getting stuck in small town Wyoming, to arriving, finally, in Chicago. It is quite a trip.
Ulysses at the Edge of the World forms a sort of coda to U.S. Highball. A hobo, having survived an extended trip by rail arrives in a big city. A trumpet and baritone sax are playing a cheerful improvisation and the hobo gathers himself to take in the conveniences of the town. Just then a policeman arrives, seemingly about to arrest him. A fitting end to the long and exasperating journey.
The PARTCH Ensemble is:
Erin Barnes
Alison Bjorkedal
Tim Feeney
Dustin Donahue
Aron Kallay
Dan Rosenboom
John Schneider
Derek Stein
Nick Terry
Brian Walsh
Alex Wand
Microfest Records has released Amazing Grace, a CD collection of three pieces by American composer Ben Johnston (1926-2019). The album features the Lyris Quartet and includes the title track, Amazing Grace (1973), Quartet #9 (1987) and Octet (1999). Kyle Gann, once a student of Ben Johnston, rightly states in his liner notes that: “Not all musicians realize it, but Ben Johnston, was a major figure in the Midwestern new music world in the 1970s and ‘80s, comparable to John Cage on the East Coast or Lou Harrison on the West. He looms even larger in the world of microtonal music, for his string quartets, sonatas for retuned keyboard, and other works are among the most compelling works ever written in alternate tunings.” The Lyris Quartet is one of the leading string quartets in Los Angeles and has performed a wide repertoire ranging from the classical to innovative contemporary music. Supporting musicians heard on Octet are also widely known in the Los Angeles new music scene.
Ben Johnston was one of the leading late 20th century exponents of alternate tuning, the use of pitches outside of the standard 12 tone equal temperament heard in almost all of our popular music. Johnston employs alternate tuning not for novelty, but rather to achieve better harmonic relationships within a piece and to avoid the compromises built into the standard 12 tone system. All of this has the effect of enriching the sound and increasing the welcoming quality of the music to the listener. A special notation scheme for the new pitches was devised by Johnston and the Lyris Quartet has adapted to this with great skill.
Amazing Grace, the first track of the album, is Johnston’s best known work as it is based on the popular hymn tune. Full disclosure: I can’t stand hearing Amazing Grace. Second only to our National Anthem, Amazing Grace is probably the most over-exposed and overwrought music in popular culture. For me it is like fingernails on a chalkboard. That said, Johnston’s treatment is a most welcome relief. The familiar hymn tune is heard at the opening, but propelled with an expressive and intriguing harmonization along with an active counterpoint in the lower registers. There is nothing alien or melodramatic about it; rather, there is a rural, Appalachian sound as befits humble folk music. The movement in the rhythm gives a feeling of motion and direction without obscuring the rustic origins of the original. The parts weave in and around each other with an intimate intricacy, all crisply played by the Lyris Quartet.
As Amazing Grace proceeds, a series of variations are heard, each with new pitches added to expand the harmonies. There is a slow, solemn stretch with a minor mode feel that soon speeds up and packs in a lot of notes from the four string players. A more melancholy section follows that features a beautiful violin solo. New complex and abstract harmonies are heard as the tempo increases and more pitches are added. The independent lines in each part remain busy as the high, thin hymn tune is heard floating above. The music then turns very abstract and is barely recognizable, filled lots of fast notes and rapid phrasing. The precision of the Lyris Quartet here is impressive, with a lovely sound and good balance. Ben Johnston’s Amazing Grace ultimately returns to the original hymn tune with a solid harmonization and pleasing counterpoint in a beautiful ending. The integrity of this old war horse has been fully reclaimed through Ben Johnston’s masterful realization.
Quartet #9, the second work on the album, has four contrasting movements, and these are typical of more traditional string quartet construction. This is the longest work in the album at a little over 20 minutes and emerges out of Johnston’s adroit combination of microtonality and conventional form. “I. Strong, calm, slow” is the first movement and opens with a series of sustained intermixing tones to create a radiant sound. The dynamics rise and fall making for a lovely introduction. The opening is followed by a quicker, more rhythmic section and a running melody in the middle register with counterpoint below. This leads into a series of strong, syncopated tutti chords filled with strange, yet engaging close harmonies. More variations follow with pizzicato rhythms and some nice fiddling is heard in all the parts. The final section of this movement ends a cloud of sound in brilliant colors that invoke a reflective, transcendental feeling.
The second movement, “II. Fast, elated”, requires only three and a half minutes but opens with a strong beat, rapid phrasing and independent lines. There is an active, willful feel to this and it makes for a fine contrast with the relative tranquility of the first movement. Elegant harmonies flow rapidly out to the listener in a constant stream. As this continues, an engaging texture evolves from the intricate relationship between the melody in the the lower middle register and the relentlessly pulsating sounds of the higher strings. The Lyris Quartet performs with admirable proficiency despite the quick tempo, unconventional meter and multiple key changes.
“III. Slow, expressive” is the title of the third movement and it is just that, opening with a gentle melody in lush harmony. A variation follows that is slightly faster and a melody that dominates in the violin with the accompanying counterpoint below. This sounds almost conventionally classical, but as Kyle Gann explains in the liner notes: “The normality is deceptive, however, the listener may not notice that the tonality smoothly modulates in Johnston’s notation, to the key of F- (21 cents flat, a cent being 1/100th of a half step), and later F– (43 cents flat) before returning to end in the original key.” All of this was seamlessly negotiated by the Lyris Quartet.
The final movement of Quartet #9 is “IV. Vigorous and defiant” and this begins with a strong opening in the lower strings. There are soon moving lines in every part, full of drama and power, yet solidly coherent overall. This is certainly vigorous – as advertised – and the fugal treatment in the first half adds additional interest. As the movement proceeds, the parts become more independent in bursts between the tutti phrases. Towards the finish, syncopation and increasing dynamics build to a fitting conclusion. For all of Johnston’s use of alternate tuning and technical innovation, Quartet #9 never loses touch with the listener and always pleasantly engages the ear.
Octet concludes the CD album and this was apparently Johnston’s last piece, written in 1999. This is the premiere recording of his final work. It is a series of seven variations on Ashokan Farewell by Jay Ungar, the signature tune of the Ken Burns documentary “The Civil War”. The Lyris Quartet is joined for this piece by Sara Andon on flute, James Sullivan, clarinet, Jon Stehney, bassoon and Scott Worthington on bass. The flute opens with the familiar, haunting melody in a quietly slow tempo, played with great expressiveness by Ms. Andon and accompanied by a soft strumming in the strings. The other woodwinds soon join in and the clarinet takes the melody. The flute plays a descant above with the bassoon in counterpoint below. Each of the lines move in and around each other, combining in an intriguing complexity. This ultimately resolves into the tune heard in a full and welcome harmony by the strings.
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The variations of Octet feature the various players in turn. A bassoon solo variation is very evocative as the feeling turns a bit darker than in the opening. This mood is picked up by the strings, and woodwinds. The lines diverge slightly and then intertwine in excellent counterpoint, especially in the bass. Another variation features the tutti ensemble in a just intonation harmony, with the flute leading the melody on top. Given the unusual harmony, there is a very different expressive feel, yet all is still recognizable. The ending arrives in a solid tutti chord to complete the piece. With Octet, as with Amazing Grace, Johnston takes a well-known and over-worked tune, breathing new life into it with masterfully crafted harmony, counterpoint and the judicious use of alternate tuning.
Ben Johnston’s infusion of alternate tuning into the rhythms, counterpoint and structure of his piece is always in service to the overall harmonic expression – it is never just flashy technique. With his innovative use of unconventional pitches and harmony, the works of Ben Johnston will stand as an important benchmark in the progress of new music.
Amazing Grace is available in CD form from Amazon Music and as a digital download from Presto Music.
The Lyris Quartet is:
Alyssa Park, violin
Shalini Vijayan, violin
Luke Maurer, viola
Timothy Loo, cello
Supporting musicians heard on Octet are:
Sara Andon, flute
James Sullivan, clarinet
John Stehney, bassoon
Scott Worthington, bass
Magic&Unique Records has released Alien Music, a collection of the early works of Peter Thoegersen that combine alternate tuning with polytempic meters. With pieces dating from 2002, this album offers a baseline view of Thoegersen’s long-time exploration of the interrelationships between pitch and rhythm. As he writes in the liner notes: “Alien Music is essentially my first Polytempic Polymicrotonal piece composed from a four part drumset composition in four simultaneous meters/tempos: 3, 4, 5, 7, all played in one sitting. There are additional microtonal instruments added in different tunings: 12tet, 19tet, 7 tone slendro, and 5 tone pelog, tuned to parity with 7-limit just.”
The album consists of Alien Music and seven other tracks that incorporate a variety of experimental tunings, meters, different types of percussion, electronic sounds and even spoken phrases or chant. Thoegersen also includes original etudes and studies that reach back to the earliest realizations of his imaginative musical formulations. All the tracks on the album can be called alien in the sense that they sound otherworldly, but there is a double meaning in the album title: Thoegersen’s Polytempic Polymicrotonal music is also alien to all that has gone before it.
The title track, Alien Music, is perhaps the most developed piece of the collection. This opens with a steady percussive beat and an engaging microtonal melody in the marimba. Thoegersen’s crisp drumming weaves in and out of the texture, supported by an ambient wash in the deep background. The contrast of the frenetic drumming, cymbal crashes, marimba line and luminous bell tones with an undercurrent of languid strings is at once unsettling and engaging. The mixing is carefully crafted and does not unnecessarily favor any one element, allowing each to add to the total. The level of tension rises and falls as the piece proceeds, depending on what sounds are heard in the foreground. The active drumming subsides and then builds up in cycles and the ambient strings occasionally dominate to produce a mysterious feel. A nice groove develops in the percussion towards the finish and the piece ends with a soft bell tone that seems to hang in the air. For all its rhythmic and harmonic complexity, Alien Music holds together convincingly, with each unique element contributing to a cohesive and pleasing overall sound.
Other pieces on the album explore subsets of the polytempic and polymicrotonal possibilities that were incorporated into Alien Music. The shortest piece of the album is Polymicrotonality Etude VII, and this contains just an unintelligible echoed voice with bell microtones, one complimenting the other to create an increasingly anxious feel. Gorgeous Monstrosity, track 2, starts with a light tapping and scuffing, continually building to eventually include mechanical percussion and chimes. There is less integration of rhythm and pitch in this track but nevertheless it conveys a distinctively alien feel. Iraq, track 7, features more of Thoegersen’s solid drumming along with an almost conventional accompaniment of synthesized rock band and electronic keyboard. A sort of rough spoken rap is heard against a lyrical contrasting vocal line, and the ensemble works effectively to make a political statement critical of the invasion of Iraq. The other tracks of Alien Music are much like watching experiments in a laboratory, with each trying assess the potential of various combinations of ensemble, rhythm and tuning.
The impact of alternate tuning in contemporary music is still working itself out. Originally employed as a way to restore some character to the compromised conventional 12-tone equal temperament scale, alternate tuning has become a highly mathematical and theoretical discipline as well as an ongoing search for new harmonic syntax. Adding a polytempic component in addition to the microtone pitch set has been Thoegersen’s line of inquiry for over 20 years. His later works, such as Three Pieces in Polytempic Polymicrotonality from 2019, show a more mature handling of the polytempic polymicrotonal paradigm and are worth hearing for comparison. Alien Music provides a look into the origins of this system and gives us bright flashes of its future promise.
Alien Music is available for listening and download on Spotify.
Flea Records has released a new CD of vocal music by Peter Thoegersen titled Facebook: What’s On Your Mind? The album is a microtonal song cycle consisting of twelve short cantos sung by mezzo-soprano Lore Lixenberg, accompanied by synthesized piano. Peter Thoegersen is a pioneering composer known for the use of multiple tempi and alternate tuning simultaneously in his works. Ms. Lixenberg is an accomplished vocalist who has performed music by composers such as Karlheinz Stockhausen, Pauline Oliveros and Phil Niblock, among others. The texts for the song cycle are drawn from Facebook postings by the composer between 2016 and 2020. Facebook: What’s On Your Mind? is an unflinching look at social media in an age of anxiety, powerfully expressed in contemporary microtonal music. To forget your pain you can taste music but not the alcohol as it can lead to alcohol addiction. Even if music cannot heal your anxiety, then visit rehabilitation centers near you to get rid off anxiety and stress.
We all have that Facebook friend who is perfectly polite and sociable in person, but suddenly loses all restraint when posting online. Full disclosure – Peter Thoegersen lived for a time in my town and we would occasionally meet for coffee or attend concerts together in Los Angeles. Peter was always good company in person, but online – and especially during the last four culturally difficult years – his frustrations and inner demons would sometimes get loose and overwhelm any sense of digital decorum. You generally had to be unfriended by Peter at least twice to know that he cared about you and he often disappeared from Facebook for a time, only to reappear in a new, sanitized profile. Facebook: What’s On Your Mind? is an attempt to express this experience through music while, as Thoegersen has written in the liner notes, “…demonstrating the whimsical nature of instant world communications and unbridled bad taste.”
The twelve Cantos of the song cycle each have their own tuning scheme starting with Canto I with 13 tet. Each successive canto increases the divisions of the octave by 1: Canto II is in 14 tet, Canto III 15 tet, etc. The notes at the beginning of the score give a detailed pitch list for each tuning and the deviation of each note, in cents, from the conventional 12 tone equal tempered scale with A at 440 Hz. The rhythmic meter of the cantos varies, from conventional 4/4 to the more exotic 11/4, 24/16, 7/32 and others. The phrasing in the piano is often rapid and generally independent of the vocal line. The piano accompaniment on this CD is synthesized, but the tuning schemes are intended to be programmed into a suitable keyboard to enable live performance.
The vocal parts are even more challenging, given the multiple tuning, exotic meters and performance instructions on the score such as ‘throat overtone singing’, ‘nasal multiphonics’, ‘near scream but maintain pitch’, ‘Severe Ululation–machine gun’ and the like. The score is presented to the singer in conventional notation with the pitch variances for the tuning given in cents above the note. The dynamics also vary widely from a near whisper to actual shouting and the vocal styles can change quickly from a sweet bel canto to frantic screaming. The recording and mixing by Ian Hansen is exceptional given the challenges. Ms. Lixenberg’s performance of Facebook: What’s On Your Mind? can only be described as heroic.
The general form of each canto is similar – the piano sometimes provides a quiet introduction but more typically accompanies with a flurry of fast passages that surround the vocals with a surging wave of notes. The piano accompaniment is typically active and reminiscent of a baroque harpsichord. Often the voice strains expressively while the piano quietly adds to the anxiety with a dark undercurrent. Thoegersen tends to organize the piano phrasing rhythmically, and this provides some structure. The vocal and piano lines are independent, but they are always complimentary.
The subject matter of several of the cantos varies from whimsy to frustration. Canto II – I Am Cat God, is actively playful with a spectacular piano line, and ends with a quiet ‘meow’ from the voice. Canto IV – WheN I saY i HatE you is a cry for understanding in the Facebook world. The soprano screams, shrieks and shouts: “When I say I hate you, it doesn’t mean that I hate you…” This is accompanied by a marvelously anxious piano line that delivers great sheets of sound in support. Canto X – The More Likes You Get… is a commentary on the definition of Facebook popularity, only turned upside down. The soprano sings with a robust lyricism that “Acceptance is the focal point of mediocrity”, accompanied by a halting and questioning piano line. Almost in answer, Canto XI replies with the soprano yelling: “How many of you hate everything I say!” The singing here is strident – part music and part howl – with a repeating piano line that adds to the sense of vexation. It finishes with a vigorously shouted political comment: “Sending your sons to war for profit!”
All of the cantos are of consistently high musical quality, innovative and expertly performed. The texts of some of them, however, reflect a very deep sense of frustration and stray beyond the vulgar and into proper obscenity. The words are not always intelligible given the dramatic vocalizations, but the listener will be challenged at some point. This might be perceived as an editorial exclamation by some – or as an insult by others – and seems a needless risk taken by the composer. The music clearly conveys its many strong emotions, is carefully composed and in every way has been brilliantly performed. The Cantos need nothing further.
The first eleven tracks on the CD are short and punchy – less than 4 minutes each, with most only a minute or two in duration. The final track, Canto XII – Eleven Ad Libitum Live Facebook Cantos is just over 14 minutes and consists of eleven further pieces heard as a continuous sequence with short pauses between. This is fully scored for piano but the vocals are extemporaneous with the text drawn from various Facebook postings. This opens with a tentative piano intro followed by an unsteady entrance in the voice. The words here are political, specifically directed at Donald Trump at a time when his speeches caused much distress. There is the usual angry frustration in the words, with much yelling and shouting. As this proceeds, the singing becomes a mix of the operatic and the spoken, all with strong anti-authoritarian sentiments. The vocals often soar upward to a fine shriek, then suddenly switch down to a low, gravelly speech reminiscent of the witches in Macbeth. The piano supports this underneath with a Gothic lyricism, adding anxiety throughout. The music is similar in form to the other tracks on the CD, but text of this canto is focused and more overtly political. This reflects the heavy emotional turbulence of the Trump era and makes for a fitting finish to the album.
Artists and musicians everywhere are still processing the trauma of the last few years. Facebook: What’s On Your Mind? documents the deep emotional scars inflicted by the Trump era with this vigorous new recording of Thoegersen’s cutting-edge music.
Facebook: What’s On Your Mind? is available directly from Flea Records.
XI Records has recently released a new dual CD set by Dave Seidel titled Involution. The album consists of two extended works, Involution and Hexany Permutations, that together comprise well over two hours of electronic music. Strongly influenced by La Monte Young and Alvin Lucier, Involution is an extensive exploration of the sonorities that are possible outside of the conventional well-tempered Western scale. Each track features a series of sustained tones presented in layered and changing combinations so as to systematically reveal the implicit harmonies possible in the selected scale. In this album, Seidel incorporates the Wilson-Grady Meta Slendro scale, the just-intonation Centaur tuning divided into the Scriabin-derived Prometheus scale, the Hindustani Marwa scale and two six note scales. According to Dean Rosenthal’s excellent liner notes: “Involution was made with modular synthesizer and Csound, everything played together in real time and each track recorded as a single take. The pitches are driven by a sequencer in the modular system, and are also sent as MIDI notes to Csound code running on a Raspberry Pi 4.”
The first three tracks of the album comprise the title piece, Involution. The sonorities of each track are fashioned from a separate tuning and each of the these tracks has a duration of 23 minutes. The tracks of Involution are built on three layers: a low foundational layer, a middle register of mixed sine tones and a final clustering of tones above. The layers consist of generally sustained, flowing tones that vary smoothly in sonority and dynamics. The structure of each track is based on changing the mix of the pitches in the chosen scale to slowly uncover the harmonic possibilities as the piece proceeds. Each layer is unfolds at a slightly different tempi, and this induces a pleasing variety that propels the piece along.
Involution 1 is based on the Meta Slendro scale, and begins with a low metallic hum that is like the inside some great whirring machine. This soon morphs to a less mechanical sound and, as the tones thin out, a distant, faint melody of beeping can be heard underneath. This, along with the generally warm sonority in the lower registers, gives a welcoming feel. The various tone clusters are sustained, but not static – there is always something happening to engage the ear. The sonic surfaces are constantly changing and shifting in subtle ways as new combinations of agreeable pitches continuously appear.
Involution 2, based on the just intonation Prometheus and Marwa in Centaur tuning, continues with the same forms and textures. All the layers now take on a slightly higher pitch with some dissonance that brings just a touch of tension. The upper tone clusters occasionally climb higher and sharper – sometimes resulting in a pulsating ringing – and this becomes a bit grating at times and less friendly to the ear. The deeper sustained tones still have a certain majesty that does not intimidate and the low beeping underneath remains a reassuring presence.
Involution 3 is based on a 12-note scale devised by the composer and begins with the familiar low metallic hum, warm but purposeful. Middle-register pitches are now in the mix and very soft beeps can be heard in the lowest registers. The higher tones seem to have a more aggressive feel and begin to dominate, adding a sense of urgency. At times, the lower tones reassert to reestablish the opening warmth, but the higher pitches often appear suddenly. Overall there is a greater mix of low and middle register tones – less warmth and more diversity – that brings a sense of slightly increased tension. Involution 3 is never intimidating or aggressive, but seems to have evolved away from the lush grandeur of the first track. The depth of the sonorities in the Invocation tracks is impressive, especially when the lower tones predominate.
Hexany Permutations, the second work of the album, has six discrete sections of 13 minutes each and rigorously examines the harmonic possibilities of a microtonal six note scale. The form of the piece is similar to Involution, with sustained tones uncoiling in smooth layers, but the process of selecting and sounding the pitches in their various combinations is more systematic. The two-note, three-note, four-note, five-note, six-note chords and the one seven-note chord were pre-selected by a simple algorithm and are not in any sequence driven by musical intent; the idea is to let the harmonies unfold naturally to the ear. As the liner notes explain: “… the full catalogue of combinations of the scale is varied by inversion, retrograde, and other strict yet rudimentary manipulations (‘permutations’) without alteration or interference, each variation becoming the discrete section.” The intent of Hexany Permutations is similar to Tom Johnson’s The Chord Catalogue (1986), a piece in which all 8178 chords in a single octave are sounded on a piano. Seidel has aimed at improving on The Chord Catalogue idea by giving the sustained tones of his Hexany chords the space to ring out in their full sonority.
So, what does all this sound like? Hexany Permutations 1, the first track of this piece, has a bright, almost sunny feeling – we are out of the shadows and into the sunlight There is a plateau of pitches here with no very low tones. Some dissonance eventually creeps in, underlying an arpeggio-like melody, and this darkens the mood somewhat – like a cloud passing overhead, on a sunny afternoon. As the piece proceeds, the constituent tones of the mix now seem to be more varied and less cohesive harmonically – a sense of unraveling.
Hexany Permutations 2 features middle and high register tones, sustained and slightly dissonant, sounding almost like a warning siren with slowly varying mixes of pitch. There is, simultaneously, a reassuring and slightly alarming quality to this. No lower tones are present, and the middle and high register tones mix in different ways. Hexany 3 returns to somewhat lower starting tones, but the middle registers predominate. This has a mostly comfortable feel but the higher registers in the mix are less consonant and add a bit of tension. The ebb and flow of the tones throughout constantly changes the character of the sound in this section as it oscillates between a high dissonance and the warm lower tones.
Hexany Permutations sections 4 through 6 continue in the same manner and begin with a broad middle register wash. The feeling is warm but purposeful. In Section 5 higher tones sound above the comfortable middle and this adds a bit of uncertainty. The swelling and receding pattern of the tones throughout accentuates this contrast very effectively. By Section 6 the upper registers begin in a brightly optimistic wash and morph into contrast with a buzz-saw harshness in their dissonance. There is a sense of the mechanical overtaking the organic across the final three Sections and this seems to be a sadly accurate metaphor for our 21st century modernity.
Despite the neutral presentation of its harmonic sequences, Hexany Permutations is surprisingly successful in communicating a wide variety of emotions and sensations to the listener – as does the entire Involution CD. The use of microtones and alternate tuning in new music has, broadly, been the search for meaningful harmonic syntax while contending with a thicket of mathematical formulations and the difficulties of making new pitches on instruments that have been shackled to an equal-tempered tradition for over two hundred years. Involution is a milestone in the process of getting directly at the core of problem: translating a new harmonic structure into the music of emotional expression.
Involution is available at Bandcamp (also download stream) and Forced Exposure.
Involution was:
Composed, realized, recorded, and produced by Dave Seidel.
Mixed and mastered by Eric Honour.
Graphics, design and layout by Scott Unrein.
Liner notes by Dean Rosenthal.
This year’s Harry Partch Festival has kicked off at the University of Washington, where the original Partch instruments have been housed since 2014 under the capable direction of Charles Corey. On hand for the first evening concert on May 12, 2018 was composer-violist and Arditti Quartet alum Garth Knox who premiered his Crystal Paths, a concertino for viola d’amore and six Partch instruments. The work is basically a series of duets between Knox and, in succession, Partch’s Crychord, Bass Marimba, Surrogate Kithara, Chromelodeon and Harmonic Canon. An interesting twist is that once each duet has been underway for a minute or so, the previous Partch instrument joins in to make it a trio, kind of like having a jealous ex-lover butt in wanting attention.
The choice of viola d’amore was an inspired one. This Baroque-era monstrosity with seven primary strings and additional sympathetic strings has a penchant for microtonal inflections and sustained double- and triple- stops, both of which mesh well with the sound world of the Partch instruments. Many of the duets (which follow one another continuously) featured these sustained multiple stops, usually with microtonal slides, while others featured pizzicato playing and (in the case of the duet with the Harmonic Canon) even a “preparation” in the form of paper inserted between the strings. The piece concluded with a gentle tutti built around a diatonic viola melody.
Knox often departs from the standard viola d’amore tuning, which is heavily biased toward D major (which I gather was 17th century Italy’s official Key of Love). Tonight, Knox tuned the lowest string down from the usual A2 to G2 to match the “tonic” of Partch’s microtonal scale.
Knox says “each duo is based on a specific ratio which forms the harmonic and rhythmic basis for the relationship between the instruments”, and his structural metaphor is fluids coalescing into crystals (hence the title). But given that he physically walked around the stage, moving from duet partner to duet partner (his viola being the only portable instrument among six immobile Partch ones), the more obvious metaphor is the Partchian wanderer character ambling from conversation to conversation—a connection to the cantankerous American maverick that works on a literary/symbolic level without trying to conjure up his specific Depression-era hobo persona.
It’s hard to write for the Partch instrumentarium without sounding either like minor league Partch or else generic postmodern chamber music for “weird” instruments. But this piece succeeded a lot better than most. The coupling of a Partch “backup band” with a conventional but archaic Western solo instrument was a compelling one, and the work seemed to strike the right balance between abstraction and referentiality.
The ensemble included Charles Corey on Crychord, Knox’s fellow violist Melia Watras in her secondary career as a Bass Marimba player, Swedish guitarist Stefan Östersjö on Surrogate Kithara, composer and Director of the UW School of Music Richard Karpen on Chromelodeon, and Vietnamese đàn tranh player Nguyễn Thanh Thủy on Harmonic Canon. The concert also featured Partch’s Two Studies on Ancient Greek Scales, and premieres of new works by Watras, Karpen and veteran Partch advocate John Schneider. Still to come over the weekend are several concerts and symposia whose centerpiece is the first complete performance in the Pacific Northwest of Partch’s The Wayward.
Beauty Will Be Amnesiac Or Will Not Be At All
Immediata (Digital)
On Beauty Will be Amnesiac Or Will Not Be At All, composer/pianist Anthony Pateras and composer/sound artist Jérôme Noetinger join forces to create an hourlong work for Synergy Percussion and improvised electronics. Its conceit is a clever one: the piece is of similar scope to Iannis Xenakis’ work Pleïades and utilizes a similarly gargantuan battery of percussion instruments, over 100, notably Xenakis’ 17-pitch microtonal metallophones, the Sixxen. These are used to particularly fine effect in the accumulating washes of sound in the piece’s first movement.
Pateras’s notated music and Noetinger’s electronics blend well together, with an emphasis on merging their respective sonic terrains rather than juxtaposing them. Along with many textural diversions, the percussion combines pulse-driven mixed meter passages with polymetric sections of considerable complexity. Noetinger finds his way inside this space admirably, teasing out contrasting rhythmic figures of his own and adding layered textures with refreshing subtlety. That said, his electronics cadenza in movement four is a standout. Haloed in a soft-mallet gong roll, he employs static to mirror the hypercomplex rhythms found in the previous movement’s percussion parts. Added to this is a duet of sustained high pitches, whose call and response fleshes out the frequency spectrum. Drum rolls return, piano this time, to reassert the place of unpitched percussion in the proceedings.Synergy performs with dedication to the subtlest details of Pateras’s score and with responsive attention to Noetinger’s contributions as well. Thus, the recording is a truly successful amalgam of notated and spontaneous music-making.
At National Sawdust on Friday April 7th at 7 PM, Opera Cabal presents the premiere of Ken Ueno’s new opera Aeolus. Joined by vocalist Majel Connery and Flux Quartet, Ueno performs throughout the opera. His fascinating blend of vocal techniques includes microtonal inflections, megaphone-amplified directives, and throat-singing. Electronics, video projections, and an architecturally conceived set design converge to make Aeolus a potent multimedia concoction. I recently caught up with Ken as he was in the thick of preparations for the opera.
Hi Ken. Thanks for taking the time to talk with Sequenza 21.
Why are you calling this an opera instead of some other genre? As you well know, multimedia theater pieces are called all sorts of things…
Following the examples of Monteverdi, Mozart, and especially Nono, “opera” seems to be an open enough label, if we need a label, so I hope it’s appropriate for this piece. But you’re right – I don’t really know what to call it. It doesn’t have a regular narrative. It features two voices that are in distinct contrast to bel canto singing. But I am attached to the possibilities Prometeo opens up, so if Nono’s is an opera, then, Aeolus, can be an opera too, right? Aeolus does feature a suoni mobili (Nono calls the movement of sound the main drama in Prometeo) characteristic in that, in the guise of Aeolus (the ruler of the winds), I move around the hall, directing my non-semantic vocalizations with a megaphone to articulate the architecture, the space, as an instrument.
You’ve mentioned that there are autobiographical elements in the libretto. Since it is fairly nonlinear in terms of narrativity, would you like to share how some of your own history fits in?
Memory is non-linear. Spaces between texts and texts in memory become islands in search of a place in time, an ostensible home, which the idea of a Penelope represents. My biographical circumstance is that my family moved around so much during my formative years that I don’t have a normative sensation of a home. So, the idea of a home is a mythic space for me, one I’ve also begun to associate with not only a place, but also specific people with whom I shared lived in those spaces that felt like places to which I belonged. That’s also, I think, why James Joyce resonates so powerfully in me. If there is a main narrative in Aeolus, it’s the counterpoint between the semantic and non-semantic in search of a home.
If I may, here’s an excerpt of a draft I’m writing for something else, which elaborates on this:
My own language acquisition parallels Dedalus’ in that the trajectory from babbling to fluency did filter out a palette of sounds that were extraneous to language. As a baby, I remember understanding language before I could actually speak. I remember both the frustration of not being able to communicate, as well as the tiny victories when I somehow managed to reach out and get through – sometimes purely through the inflections of non-semantic vocalizations, maybe combined with clear physical gestures like pointing or shaking my head.
When I was four, my family moved to Switzerland, and apart from speaking Japanese with my family I was a mute child again, unable to speak the local French. The burgeoning richness of my internal life was frustrated by this communication setback. Around that time, I was given a portable Aiwa tape recorder and started to make non-linear musique concrète, playing with snippets of sounds of my little world in exile. Listening to those recordings now, through auto-archaeology, I discover not only that I was vocalizing non-semantically, but that I was singing multiphonics. I was babbling, testing the limits of my vocal repertoire, expanding the repertoire of sounds my body could make. Unhinged from semantic obligation, I was freely playing at making sounds for the pure sake of making sounds, developing a series of dexterous moves ancillary to spoken language – to logos. I remember how it felt. The complex vibrations of the multiphonics reverberated in my body, shaking my bones. It was soothing. I learned to make a variety of sounds that registered different feelings. They felt like different weights of the world. Not being able to speak the local language, not having any friends, I was performing, rehearsing for my future self. The future will rationalize the past. When I read James Joyce as a teenager, the tropes of alienation and exile, and the distance between language as sound and language as semantic medium, all resonated with me.
Tell us about your collaborators.
Majel Connery is my singer. Though classically trained, she has a beautiful lyrical voice, that reminds me of Elena Tonra from Daughter or Beth Gibbons of Portishead. But that’s really unfair. I should not be naming names or comparing her to anyone else – she has a great voice, she is a primary referent in her own right. When I heard her voice and imagined what it was capable of, I knew I wanted to write songs for her. Songs that would carry the semantic exposition in Aeolus. She’s been very generous with me in trying out sketches of my songs in different keys, etc., so that we can get to the right voice/word combination to get to the pathos that I want to express. Majel is also a brilliant project leader. She is Opera Cabal. She is our fearless leader and most responsible for all of this happening. A visionary!
Thomas Tsang is a brilliant architect with whom I have been collaborating for ten years. We met as fellows at the American Academy in Rome, and we’ve collaborated on installations ever since. As an artist, he brings a fully-fledged multidisciplinary edge to architecture. He questions traditional outputs and bravely creates installations, events, workshops that challenge us to rethink the history of specialization in our related fields. The full vision for the opera is to have a space that he designs that is something more than a set or venue, something more integral to the expression of the piece. We are working towards that.
Erin Johnson is a video artist with whom I have been collaborating over the last few years. She’s an all-round creative force. Many of her works thread the line between video art, installation, performance art, curation, and community engagement. She naturally problematizes categories in her artistic output. She curated a work of mine last summer – Fortress Brass, a site-specific piece that took place on boats and then at Fort Gorges in Portland Harbor, in Maine. Erin made videos for four of the scenes in Aeolus, for scenes with voice-overs. Voice-overs take the place of dialogue in Aeolus (a move that I first began to experiment with in my first opera, Gallo). Being pre-recorded, the voice-overs inhabit a different time/place: it serves a distancing function.
I am also lucky to be working with the renown Flux Quartet. Specialists in the extreme demands of new music, breathtaking in their courage and inspiring. I am blessed to have this team.
What are some of the electronic elements in the piece?
Mostly, the electronics are backing tracks for the pop songs. In one scene, I perform with a Max patch that the brilliant designer/composer Ilya Rostovtsev made for me. The patch lets me use my iPhone as a controller for algorithmic drums.
What does lateral bowing sound like? You’ve become a big fan of it … how did you first discover it as a technique?
I like lateral bowing because it sounds like breath – the link between my vocal practice, my body, and the embodied choreography of sounds that I notate for instrumentalists to perform. I first came up with lateral bowing, when I was experimenting on a viola during the composition of my viola concerto, Talus.
What’s next for you?
I’m lucky to have pieces upcoming for talented friends: a piece for five-string baroque cello for Elinor Frey; a solo trumpet + electronics work for Andy Kozar; a solo cello piece for Jason Calloway; a saxophone piece for Vincent Daoud; a trio for Kim Kashkashian; and a long overdue piece for piano for Kathy Supove (and some other things too).
- What attracts you to composing for and performing on the toy piano?
The sound of the toy piano evokes an idealized childhood, the sort that no one I know actually enjoyed and yet many of us possess as a shared mental experience. I love having that association underlying my explorations of disturbing and unusual sounds. In addition, it’s relatively easy to travel with one—certainly compared to a cello—and I like that there’s a basic keyboard interface alongside all sorts of other ways to interact with the instrument. When I first started playing live, it was also a huge selling point to me that there isn’t a standard performance practice with the toy piano, so I could do what felt comfortable to me without feeling like there was going to be someone in the audience shaking their head at the way that I hold my hands or where I place my feet. I keep thinking that I’ll move on to other instruments, and have plans to build some original ones, but then I keep finding other things that I can make this little box do.
- Did the macabre image of the title provide a jumping off point for the winds piece or was it incorporated latter on?
When I first discovered that the Nutshell Studies existed, before I even saw them in person, I knew that I would have to eventually use them as the title for a major toy piano piece. They are a remarkably close analogy to what I do with the toy piano in that they take something associated with childhood (dollhouses in this case) and treat them in a very adult manner. And even though they portray an extreme fascination with death, they are actual tools that are used to assist people studying forensic science, and so are not sensationalist or exploitative. So the title sets up the exact expectations that I want for the piece.
- What microtonal tunings do you use in the wind ensemble piece? How did you manage to detune the banjo? What other tunings appear in your music?
Like you, I do enjoy lots of different temperaments! Since every toy piano is tuned differently from each other, and none of them are in anything close to equal temperament, I tried to place the toy piano within an environment where its unique scale wouldn’t sound too wrong. From the very first conceptualizations of the piece, I knew that I needed an instrument to link the toy piano to the ensemble, in this case, the banjo. Two strings of the five-string banjo are one quarter-tone sharp of their regular tuning, and in writing the part I was very specific as to which notes were played on which strings. And so we I created a continuum from the aleatoric tuning of the toy instrument, through the professional instrument with folk associations tuned in order to make it sound somewhat distorted, into the more standard concert instruments. In that piece, concert instruments use quarter tones as well. Some Details of Hell also uses a lot of quarter tones, in that case in order to explore resonance off of a single low pitch. In A Baby Bigger Than Up Was, I compose out the vowel formants from the repeated text, which required a more systematic approach to mictrotones, using naturally-tuned thirds and sevenths in addition to quarter tones.
- Your text-setting often takes a deconstructionist or fragmentary approach. Tell us a little about how you view writing for the voice and texted scores in general.
I love words and writing! I love them so much that sometimes I can feel hamstrung when I try to set a text. And I think that the human voice remains the absolutely most beautiful and expressive instrument that we have yet created. So, for several years I avoided text entirely while writing for voice. Some Details of Hell is the last piece in which I took a published poem that I love and tried to set it as clearly as possible. In that case, I spent months analyzing the poem, including its line breaks, and figuring out exactly how I could do justice to Brock-Broido’s incredible sensitivity to language. A Baby Bigger Grows Than Up Was is my most recent work for voice, and marks my return to the idea of text setting. But the text for that piece is unique in that it’s a story with all of the hallmarks of a narrative but published in alphabetical order, beginning with 19 iterations of the word “a” and ending with nearly an entire page of punctuation. So, every word is set exactly as it was published, but the text itself is organized in a non-narrative manner. The excerpt on the CD brings us from “a” to “breathing” in five minutes, but the entire piece is nearly an hour long—it all gets pretty intense when we reach the ms and the 72 statements of the word “mom” and 442 of the word “my”!
- The idea of looping appears in two different guises on the album: down.stream where you use a loop pedal on your toy piano and the overdubbed bassoons on 21 Miles to Coolville (bonus points for that title, by the way). Obviously, your music eschews a conventional approach to minimalism. But irregular sorts of repetitions prove to be a throughline, from your vocal settings to the aforementioned looping structures. How do you deal with repetition in your compositional language?
We never experience true repetition. Each time an event is encountered, we perceive it within a context, and any previous contact with that idea or similar ones colors the new experience. I’m fascinated by that idea and also by nature, where near repetition is quite common, but true repetition is almost unimaginable. I think a great deal about listening to the interaction between various bird calls, or predicting ocean waves, or watching rivers where the water is forever changing and forever the same. In my music, I try to play with these concepts by having ideas or words or motives recur but generally subtly changed. 21 Miles to Coolville (and thanks!) is completely written out, and has been played by four bassoons and also by Michael Parker Harley as a solo with prerecorded Harleys. The only difference in how I created to that piece from any previous compositions is that the quarter note pulse remains constant throughout. And my approach to looping pedal in my solo performances is a bit different from most people in that I generally am using it to create drones and sustained sounds, which are otherwise incredibly difficult to produce on the toy piano, and to allow for the buildup of more orchestral textures. When I was in high school, the music of the minimalist composers was one of my first entries into the classical music world, and I still adore minimalist and post-minimalist music and art. So, I feel the influence of that aesthetic very strongly, and try to be patient in my own music, allowing ideas to remain in place for as long as necessary, and I do sometimes enjoy unadulterated recurrence.
- Tell us about the gig! How did you come together with National Sawdust to present a portrait concert? Who is playing and what will be on the bill?
With the new CD, I wanted to launch in New York, where so many of the performers live, as well as in my home of Baltimore. I’ve been hearing so many amazing things about National Sawdust, and I was fortunate enough to have them agree to host this concert. We’ll be presenting four of the six tracks from the CD, all performed by the players on the album: loadbang, the pianist Karl Larson, the bassoonist Michael Parker Harley, and myself. In addition, loadbang and I will improvise together to close out the show. I’m very excited to have this opportunity to share the stage with such amazing people and players!
- What’s next for David Smooke? What projects are in the pipeline?
I’m going to be playing live quite a bit more than usual over the coming months, with shows in Boston on the Opensound Series on February 11 and in San Francisco at the Center for New Music on February 24, among others. And I’m working on a piece for the Baltimore-based Sonar Ensemble right now that uses a recording of a run on a nature trail near my home as the ground layer over which the ensemble will perform.