Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles, Orchestral

Ventura College Orchestra – Celebration!

On November 1, 2025, the Ventura College Symphony Orchestra presented “Celebration!”, a concert of contemporary music marking the Centennial of the founding of the school. Yunker Auditorium filled with a capacity crowd and the College Symphony – some 70 players strong – sprawled across every inch of the concert stage. Over two hours of music was programmed, featuring four world premiers and including compositions by past and present music faculty. Highlight of the concert was the premiere of Encantos, a piece by New Zealand composer Mark Menzies commissioned by Conductor Ashley Walters. Appropriately, the concert concluded with George Gershwin’s popular Rhapsody in Blue, a work that, like Ventura College, premiered 100 years ago this year. “Celebration!” was an ambitious program and a milestone in the evolution of the Ventura College Music program.

First up was Encantos (2025). Mark Menzies, the composer, of is a virtuoso violinist, chamber musician, pianist, conductor and a strong advocate for contemporary music. He has appeared at the Ojai Music Festival and performed throughout the US, Europe, South America, Australia and Japan. Menzies is presently Professor of Music at the University of Canterbury in Christchurch New Zealand. Starting in 1999, Menzies was on the faculty at Cal Arts for some 17 years. While there, he founded the Formalist Quartet, whose members included Ashley Walters and Andrew Tholl, now both music faculty at Ventura College.

During his time at Cal Arts, Menzies had occasion to visit the Ventura College music department. In the program notes he writes: “…when I drove for the very first time to Ventura down the 126 (and I had only begun to drive), all the orange blossoms were in full bloom. It was an incredible feeling…” Encantos, the opening work on the concert program, reflects the joy Menzies felt coming here to Ventura. The piece was written in tribute to Ventura College on its 100th anniversary.

Encantos begins with slow string tones accompanied by solitary notes from a harp. More strings join in underneath with a lush wash of warm sound. Percussion is heard, yet the overall effect is quietly soothing and exotic. The large orchestra successfully maintained careful control over the dynamics and the result was an almost pastoral feeling. As the piece proceeded, a crescendo in the strings ended in a sharp brass sforzando passage signaling new drama and suspense. At that moment, a series of mechanical clickers were heard rising from the audience accompanied by random clapping from the members of the orchestra. The overall effect was like the splashing of raindrops in a heavy rainfall. This escalated into a violent storm with a series of loud and rapid phrases from the trombones and upper brass. The wild texture continued and culminated in a heavy wash of loud sounds that evoked a sudden California flash flood. The energy of this rose quickly to a peak, and ended in a sudden silence.

A skittering of quiet woodwinds followed – perhaps the calm after the storm. Solemn viola notes were heard along with a strong bass drum beat. As the full orchestra joined in, Encantos took on a more familiar and conventional form after the chaos of the preceding section. The strings coasted on, led by a bouncy clarinet solo. After a period of low throbbing in the basses, followed by a stout sforzando brass chord, Encantos faded to a quiet finish.

Encantos is challenging contemporary music and the orchestra navigated the complexities and nuances of the music in good order. The applause was sustained and sincere and the composer led in the cheering for the orchestra who gave a fine performance of his piece.

Another world premiere, Celebration for Orchestra (2025), by O. Powers, followed. Ollie Powers teaches composition and music technology at Ventura College and has studied with Pauline Oliveros. Celebration unfolds in layers so that each section of the orchestra plays a separate theme, in turn. As the piece proceeds, all the sections are combined together at the finish. It is just the sort of musical experiment of which Pauline Oliveros would approve, simple in concept and with surprising results.

The string section begins Celebration with a sharp opening chord followed by a strident pizzicato. The feeling here is purposeful and march-like, delivered with precise ensemble playing by the large string section. The brass entered next, with lush chords and strong passages accompanied by solid percussion. This was heard clearly in the audience, even with the brass section located in the very back of a crowded stage. Finally the woodwinds picked up their theme, a bright and bubbly passage full of movement and joy. The final section included all of the parts previously introduced, now in a great wave of sound. The combination of parts had a more conventional feel, but still surprising when finally played together. This formidable body of sound produced by the tutti orchestra was well balanced and did not overwhelm. Celebration was received with extended applause.

Next on the program was Another Way Forward (but still in front of you) (2025) by Andrew Tholl, still another world premiere. Tholl is faculty at Ventura College, teaching composition and violin. In his musical career he has worked closely with such notables as David Lang, Christian Wolff, Wadada Leo Smith and Harold Budd. Andrew was a member of the Formalist Quartet, the string ensemble that included Ashley Walters and Mark Menzies. Tholl’s compositions have been heard at the Walt Disney Concert Hall, Beyond Baroque and the Hammer Museum. His comments in the program notes describe Another Way Forward: “There are no parts, all players read from the same score and, at times, some players may be on one page of the score while other are playing off another.” Sounds like a recipe for chaos, but does it work?

Another Way Forward opens with a sumptuous chord in the brass, filled with unexpected and colorful harmonies. A light vibraphone trill above adds to the singular feeling. The triangle enters with its bright pinging sound as the low brass issues long, deep tones. The violins join in with more unusual harmonies and this adds a pleasing warmth to the overall emotional color. The brass section then replies with simple declarative chords, sometimes ominous and sometimes tense. All of this soon creates a great wash of sound driven forward by the strings while a quietly solemn violin/cello duo rises lightly above the texture.

At this point the woodwinds enter, playing in a separate tempo. This is not as jarring as might be expected, given the strong support underneath by the strings. The structure now is unconventional, yet very accessible, and the contrast in the textures and rhythms heard from the woodwinds are surprisingly effective. Soon, the brass enter with yet a different set of rhythms, creating a general wash of sound. This slowly resolves into more organized and conventional forms and there are some lovely harmonies now heard in the brass. The triangle keeps the beat as the various orchestra sections fade to the finish. Another Way Forward is a robustly unconventional piece yet it is not alienating to the ear. No doubt difficult music to play, the VC orchestra managed all the nuances with discipline to deliver Another Way Forward successfully.

Tumaini, by Robert Lawson followed. Lawson was past music faculty and a seminal force in shaping the VC music program in the 1980s. His influence is still being felt today. He was the Chair of the Performing Arts department at one point, and was instrumental in developing the Schwab Academy of Music. Lawson was also a composer and Tunmaini is one of his larger orchestral works.

“Tumaini” is a Swahili word meaning “Hope” and the piece opens with distant horn tones followed by a quiet entry in the string section. The contra basses carry the beat, supporting a gentle melody that emerges from the strings. The oboe tops this off with warm and relaxing solo. The generous sound of the large VC orchestra here is lush, controlled and pleasant. The sound and structure of the piece at this point is fairly conventional; engaging but not outsize. As the piece proceeds, a tutti crescendo slowly rises up in a moment of power, with a strong finishing phrase in the brass. The piece slowly winds down to a stately hymn-like passage in the strings. The music here is elegant and broad as if fades to the finish. Tumaini is both familiar and pleasing, suggesting the influence of the movie music of the time.

Danzón No. 2 (1994), by Arturo Márquez was next. The composer is a mentor for the orchestra’s Schwab music program and was also a close friend of Robert Lawson, director of the orchestra in the 1980s. The program notes state that Danzón was inspired by “…the elegant Cuban dance form that found a vibrant second life in Mexico’s Veracruz region.” Danzón opens with a bright clarinet solo accompanied by piano and percussion. The bouncy syncopation and lively tempo deliver a wonderfully Latin flavor. The oboe joins in and then all the woodwinds take up the theme. The strings have the melody next, adding an accelerando that magnifies the rapid, dance-like feeling. The brass finally join in with strong sounds, assisted by loud percussion.

Danzón slows, although still in dance mode, it has now acquired a more refined and elegant sensibility. This is supported by sensuous passages in the strings and some strong counterpoint from the trombones. Soon, strident sounds from the percussion and brass herald a return to a more muscular texture, topped off by a dramatic trumpet solo. This escalates into a loud and raucous dynamic, joined by the strings, reaching a final powerful crescendo before settling back at the finish. The VC orchestra played all of this with the style and flash that the piece deserves. Danzón is an infectious and accessible piece that clearly pleased the audience.

After a short intermission, the world premiere of Old Havana – La Habana Viejo, by Yalil Guerra, was performed. Yalil Guerra is another VC faculty member teaching classical guitar and composition. He is from Cuba and Old Havana is a sentimental look at the “…colorful streets, colonial architecture, and the rhythmic pulse of everyday life in Havana, the piece captures the city’s unique blend of nostalgia, resilience and joy,”

Old Havana opens with the bracing phrases of sturdy classical music, acknowledging the old world foundations at the heart of the city. This rather formal beginning is followed a slow- moving melody in the strings, creating a more relaxed and tropical feeling. Sumptuous string passages build in a crescendo that are then dramatically taken up by the brass. A repeat of the classical opening phrases is heard, followed by a lively dance rhythm that projects a solid Latin groove. After a final return to the classical, a luxuriant romantic melody drifts up from the tutti strings that fades to the finish. The many conventional musical materials present in this piece are artistically arranged and were appreciated by the audience with their applause. The transitions in and out of the different styles in Old Havana were navigated by the big VC orchestra with precision and grace.

The final work on the program was Rhapsody in Blue, by George Gershwin. Invariably popular with audiences, if something of an over-exposed war horse after many years of United Airline commercials, I must admit I heartily dislike this piece. Solo pianist Felix Eisenhaur, however, took the stage to give a short talk on the history of Rhapsody in Blue which did much to lightened my spirits. In January 1924 Gershwin was handed a copy of the New York Tribune, which reported that he was working on a new ‘jazz concerto for band leader Paul Whiteman. It was to be premiered on Lincoln’s birthday – just five weeks hence. Gershwin had never agreed to this, but decided to get busy composing anyway. With the help of orchestrator Ferde Grofé, the parts for orchestra were completed in time, but the solo piano score had yet to be written down. The show must go on, so Gershwin, a talented pianist, decided he would perform the piece himself and improvise the piano solos on the spot.

Armed with this historical background, listening to Rhapsody in Blue became, for me, a new experience. The structure of the piece is immediately transparent: the orchestra plays for a bit, then goes silent while an extended piano solo is heard. The conductor, meanwhile, stands with hands folded as if waiting for the finish of a long cadenza. With a nod from the pianist, the orchestra again plays its part as the piano remains in silence. This back-and-forth goes on throughout the piece and it is absolutely seamless. You never notice that there is virtually no overlap where the piano and orchestra are playing together.

The VC orchestra managed all this very well, playing with power and control throughout. Soloist Felix Eisenhaur performed the piano solos with precision and a studied enthusiasm. The communication between pianist and conductor was flawless and the old war horse was made to dance again to the great delight of the audience. A sustained ovation followed as all took their bows. A great finish to a great concert.

“Celebration!” was a long and complex concert program and the conducting style of Ashley Walters continues to demonstrate that it needs no improvement. Her motions at the podium are precise, efficient and exactly what the players need to get the most out of their performance. More than that, Walters’ ability to network with top contemporary musicians and composers will make the Ventura College music program a distinguished cultural landmark in Southern California.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, early music, File Under?, Miller Theater, New York

Stile Antico Returns to St. Mary’s

Photo: Eduardus Lee.

Stile Antico Returns to Sing at St. Mary’s

 

Church of Saint Mary the Virgin

November 9, 2025

Published in Sequenza 21

By Christian Carey

 

NEW YORK – The British choral group Stile Antico has been together for twenty years, and while they have premiered several new works, the ensemble specializes in repertoire from the Renaissance era. Indeed, this past Saturday on Miller Theatre’s Early Music series, at the Church of Saint Mary the Virgin in midtown Manhattan, the theme of their program was “The Golden Renaissance.” At St. Mary’s, Stile Antico presented works by noteworthy composers of the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. They may be lumped together in a historical pigeon hole, but Renaissance composers exemplify a plethora of approaches, and the music often is quite demanding to sing. Stile Antico took a versatile approach in their program, sometimes performing with their full complement of a dozen singers and at others with subgroups thereof. Thus, the concert afforded listeners intimate experiences as well as resounding anthems sung in full voice. 

 

Some of the selections were the usual suspects on choral programs, but there were also a few less familiar pieces that proved worthy companions to the hits of the Renaissance. One of those that might be considered a “deep cut” was  “A un niño llorando,” a villancico by Franciso Guerrero (1528-1599). Its subject was the story of the gifts given to the infant Jesus by the magi. Beginning with a solo by soprano Rebecca Hickey, its compound rhythms provided both the lilt of a cradle song and a framework for hocketing between parts. Two other Spanish composers were represented on the program, with Recessit pastor noster from the Tenebrae Responsories by Tomá Luís De Victoria (1548-1611) performed with dramatic declamation and cascading linear overlaps. Jubilate Deo by Cristóbal De Morales (1500-1553) is peppered with plangent dissonances. Apparently the composer took his jubilation quite seriously. All was well in the end, with the final cadence of both parts of the motet arriving to rest on a major chord. These works, as well as most of the other music on the program, have been recorded by Stile Antico. 

 

A more festive mood was captured in the performances of O clap your hands and Hosanna to the Son of David, both by Orlando Gibbons (1583-1625). Short phrases ricocheted between subsections of the choir, delivered in crisply animated fashion. Ein Kind geborn, by Michael Praetorius (1571-1599), subdivides the choir into various smaller units who engage in a kind of call and response, the resulting antiphony building to a thrilling tutti finale. 

Clemens non Papa (1510-1555) is a composer who is underserved by current ensembles. His best known piece, Ego flos campi, was sung in a luxuriantly legato rendition. Stile Antico’s interpretative approach has been enriched over the years, with more dynamic and articulative shadings and ever greater fluidity of pacing. Hearing them sing something again, such as Ego flos campi, underscores their evolving approach to this repertoire. In Manus Tuas, by Thomas Tallis (1505-1585) is another piece that shows Stile Antico to their best advantage, the ensemble making the most of plangent cross-relations to paint the aspects of devotion and surrender integral to its text. 

 

Included on the program was The Phoenix and The Turtle, commissioned nearly a decade ago from Huw Watkins. A setting of Shakespeare, various explanations of the poem’s meaning have been suggested, from symbolizing various lovers to eulogizing Christian martyrs.Watkins uses a polytonal framework that has a number of added note chords, corruscating motivic entrances, and much antiphony. The result sounded well in the reverberant acoustics of St. Mary’s.

 

This was the 500th anniversary of the birth of Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina (1525-1594), and Stile Antico has recorded an entire album of his music as part of their trio of Golden Renaissance CDs, with the others representing Byrd and Josquin.  All are well worth seeking out. Two pieces by the composer William Byrd were featured in the concert. A recusant Catholic, Byrd vented his anger at the persecution of those of his faith in “Exsurge Domine,” the concert’s fiery opener. His late piece “Retire my soul” was of a mournful cast and sung with plaintive, sinuous legato lines. Josquin’s masterpiece of compositional architecture, Salve Regina, with two borrowed parts to thread between original  lines, was performed with seamless interweaving of its contrapuntal entrances. As for Palestrina, his Laudate Dominum couldn’t be done on the choir’s last visit to St. Mary’s, as baritone Gareth Thomas was too ill to perform, and the piece’s twelve-part divisi would not permit it. For an encore, they performed it here, and the rendition proved well worth the wait.

 

by Christian Carey
Concerts, File Under?, New York

Chris Thile: Bach, Bluegrass and Radiohead at the Y

Photo: Joseph Sinnott

Chris Thile at 92nd Street Y

Kauffmann Concert Hall

October 19, 2025

 

NEW YORK – Chris Thile is one of the best mandolinists around, and he has established himself as a singer, songwriter, and storyteller as well. On Sunday, he performed a solo concert at the 92nd Street Y that brought together these various activities. From 2016 to 2020, Thile hosted Live from Here, a variety show for public radio modeled on its predecessor A Prairie Home Companion. The pandemic made continuing the show impractical but he has since returned to the concept via podcasting, and his performance at the Y was not dissimilar from its format. The audience was regaled with stories as well as songs (and instrumentals), and in between with bits of banter.

 

The program included three substantial works by Bach, the Partitas in E major and

D minor, and the C major Sonata. They are included on Thile’s latest Nonesuch recording, the second volume of his traversal of the solo violin pieces. Interspersing the main movements of these pieces were renditions of songs from Thile’s solo work and groups Punch Brothers and Nickel Creek.

 

Such variety sometimes yielded unusual sequencing. In a brief monologue, Thile shared that he had discovered Bach at a young age and only belatedly learned to read music in order to be able to learn the solo violin pieces on mandolin. Thile reminded the audience that Bach said that music was both “To the glory of God and for the refreshment of the soul,” the mandolinist suggesting that he had started his own music making due to the former and now favored the latter part of the motto. In the early days of Nickel Creek, when Thile was a teenager, Toad the Wet Sprocket’s frontman Glen Phillips toured with them. Awed by his musicianship but concerned for his soul, the mandolinist made an attempt to convert Phillips to Christianity, only to be politely rebuffed. Nickel Creek would later record a song, “Goddamned Saint,” that explored the connotations of this meeting, especially as seen through a vantage point that was more secular and less proselytizing. 

 

The song was followed by the Chaconne from the D minor Partita, a piece that Bach wrote shortly after the death of his first wife. Musicologist Helga Thoene and others have likened it to the funerary violin tradition of the eighteenth century, and Thoene has made a convincing case that chorales traditionally used in Lutheran services for the dead are embedded in the Chaconne. Despite following the considerably less somber Nickel Creek song, it served as the concert’s emotional centerpiece. An extended meditation on a ground bass, it moves through a series of melancholic variations, ever more technically challenging, until a section in D major in which the mood seems more hopeful. When playing this portion of the Chaconne, Thile, in a moving intimate gesture, stepped away from his mandolin’s microphone, playing unplugged at the lip of the stage. The piece eventually returns to minor, with a formidable conclusion that was performed with a gravity one doesn’t often associate with the mandolin.

 

After this, Thile lightened the mood considerably by asking the audience to call a few fiddle tunes that he then fashioned into an improvised medley. His playing knit together the disparate melodies fluidly in an ebulliently virtuosic display. Once again, the mood changed, as Thile shifted to a monologue about his grandmother, a medium with a famous reputation for her seances. This was followed by a performance of the C major Sonata. Between the third and fourth movements, Thile convened a moment of silence, in which he invited the audience to remember people whom they loved who had passed away. The set’s conclusion was the fast finale of the sonata which ended in a flurried flourish of passagework. Even those who might be skeptical of the prospect of Bach translating well to mandolin would be hard pressed to dismiss Thile’s commitment and musicianship out of hand, as the performances at the 92nd Street Y and the Nonesuch recording well attest. 

 

Ever the tightrope walker, Thile offered for the audience to select his encore. Knowing his fondness for Radiohead, a number of songs from their catalog were shouted out. Thile decided to take on the challenge of playing one that he hadn’t done live before, “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi,” from the album In Rainbows. There was one caveat: an audience member had to share a screen-locked phone with the lyrics. With “Weird Fishes’” motoric riff, its tangy suspended harmonies, and a display of muted string percussion, Thile’s rendition resembled the energy of the original, while his voice navigated its sinuous melody, lyrics intact. As he quipped, “This has been a lot of mandolin,” to which the audience roared back in approval.

 

-Christian Carey



by Christian Carey
Choral Music, Classical Music, Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Criticism

Estonians Play Their Pärt

Estonian Festival Orchestra, Credit Fadi Kheir
Carnegie Hall’s Arvo Pärt festival began with the Estonian Festival Orchestra, violin soloists Midori and Hans Christian Aavik and the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir. (Photo credit Fadi Kheir)

In listening to a three-hour concert of music by Arvo Pärt, the brilliance of the Estonian composer’s craft becomes clear. His use of percussion is a masterclass in orchestration, announcing the beginning of a piece with a chime, punctuating string passages with a ding or a gong, and clamorous timpani rolls in rare fortissimo moments.

This all-Pärt concert on October 23 was the first program in a season-long celebration of the 90-year old composer at Carnegie Hall. Pärt holds the Composer’s Chair at Carnegie this season (that’s the Richard and Barbara Debs Composer’s Chair, to you). The occasion was also the American debut of the Estonian Festival Orchestra, founded in 2011 by Paavo Järvi, who conducted this performance.

Much of Pärt’s music is deceptively simple: descending scales, modest melodies repeated over and over, block chords and spare orchestration. He is a master of form as well, building a clear emotional arc in every composition, playing on extreme dynamic markings. This was deftly demonstrated by the Estonians, with pianissimo passages that were barely perceptible and subtle shades of softness, holding thunderous fortes for special moments. Another effective technique is his unabashed use of silence – in such a patient way that there is no compulsion to jump in and fill the void.

Only one work on this program reminded me why I have avoided listening to Pärt’s music for many years. The second movement of Tabula Rasa, one of the longest works on the program, was an exercise in restraint. Slow and repetitious without forward motion, it ultimately was tedious and boring. The way this music stopped time seemed to resonate with many in the audience, just not me. Besides that, the performance, which featured two violin soloists – veteran Midori and young upstart Hans Christian Aavik – was a remarkable and compelling work.

Some of the other works performed this evening surprised me with their varied sounds and compelling forward motion, both melodically and harmonically. This was not how I thought of Pärt’s compositional style.

The last piece on the program, Credo, was by far the most interesting and varied. Interspersing JS Bach’s Prelude No. 1 on solo piano (played by Nico Muhly) between Pärt-ian passages, some bellicose, some tender, was exciting.

The Estonians also brought along the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir, who performed Adams Lament with the orchestra before being joined by the Trinity Choir for Credo. The combined choirs showed off their special sound in the encore, Pärt’s Estonian Lullaby.

WQXR-FM broadcast the concert on its Carnegie Hall Live series, and it is available for on demand listening at WQXR.org.

Carnegie Hall’s celebration of Arvo Pärt continues throughout the season. Upcoming events, beginning with tonight’s Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir are listed at this link.

by Gail Wein
Contemporary Classical

Erika Dohi – “Myth of Tomorrow”

Erika Dohi is a pianist, vocalist, composer, and improviser. Her full length recording Myth of Tomorrow is out today, Friday, October 24th, via Switch Hit/Figure Eight. She collaborates with Metropolis Ensemble on several of the album’s songs, including the title track (previewed below). Vocoder plays a big role in her singing, and the instrumental component combines classical instrumentation, fluid synths, and programmed rhythms.

by Christian Carey
Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Dance, File Under?, New York, Orchestras

Salonen Conducts New York Philharmonic (Concert Review)

Photo: Chris Lee.

The NY Philharmonic Celebrates Boulez’s Centenary
Works by Bartók, Boulez, Debussy, and Stravinsky
Pierre-Laurent Aimard, piano
New York Philharmonic, Esa-Pekka Salonen, conductor
Saturday, October 4, 2025
Saturday, October 11, 2025

NEW YORK – In October, Esa-Pekka Salonen conducted the New York Philharmonic for two consecutive weeks. Both programs celebrated the centenary of the composer and conductor Pierre Boulez (1925-2016), who was Music Director of the New York Philharmonic from 1971-1977. Boulez was a key figure of the post-WWII avant-garde and a proponent of serial music, then in its early stages. By the 1970s, Boulez was an internationally renowned conductor of a wide range of repertoire, and his time with the NY Phil was distinguished by a high level of music-making. Still, his advocacy for increasing the number of contemporary works presented was not welcome in all corners. Balancing the programming of repertory staples with that of twentieth and twenty-first century music remains a much-debated topic at the NY Phil, both within the organization and among its listeners. This is true of most American orchestras, and had more than a bit to do with Salonen’s recent decision to end his directorship of the San Francisco Symphony. Thus, it was heartening to see Boulez’s music received so well by the audiences at well-attended concerts on October 4th and 11th.

Claude Debussy (1862-1918) was the other composer on the first concert, and it was a simpatico pairing. Boulez admired Debussy and frequently performed his music. In the concert’s first half, works by the two composers alternated. Debussy was represented by movements from the orchestral version of Images, which shared a point of inception with the programmed Boulez pieces: they are transcriptions of piano pieces. In the 1940s, Boulez wrote twelve piano miniatures called Notations, each twelve measures long but varied in tempo and character to create a group of pieces that helped prove his avant-garde bona fides. In succeeding decades, Boulez returned to some of them and remade them for orchestra. Three of these, in both their original and orchestrated forms, were performed. Pierre-Laurent Aimard played the movements from Notations in authoritative fashion, scrupulously observing the tempos conceived for their solo renditions. Frequently the orchestral version has been written to be played a bit more slowly, for the purposes of resonance and ensemble coordination; the latter at times is formidably challenging. It is to the NY Phil’s credit that their playing took into account the disparate nature of all the music in the first half, rendering each inflection, some quite nuanced, with sensitivity. Salonen abetted this effort with a clear approach that embodied the scores in a manner not dissimilar to Boulez’s conducting style.

Aimard would later be the piano soloist in Fantasie, an infrequently performed early piece by Debussy, started during his Prix de Rome days and only published posthumously. It is not one of Debussy’s finest pieces, and its spate of revisions shows seams in a number of places, sounding like a grand tour of the stylistic evolution throughout his career. The piano part is virtuosic, sometimes stepping into the spotlight and at others blending in with the orchestra in a demonstration of esprit de corps. If anyone can make Fantasie at all compelling it is Aimard, who distinguished himself with fleet-fingered runs and thoughtful turns of phrase.

Debussy’s La Mer, his beloved orchestral work, was the program’s finale. Water’s motion, environs, and the denizens dependent upon it are frequent touchstones for the composer, nowhere more so than here, although the grotto scene from his opera Pelleas et Melisande is a strong contender. The piece has had a somewhat quixotic afterlife as a shorthand trope for the sea in many films, from documentaries to Hollywood blockbusters. The real thing still trumps all of them. The NY Philharmonic played it pristinely under Salonen’s direction.

Photo: Brandon Patoc.

The concert on October 11th featured two more composers in Boulez’s orbit: Béla Bartók (1881-1945) and Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971). The latter was represented by his Octet for Winds, a piece firmly rooted in the neoclassical tradition that pits a woodwind quartet of flute, clarinet, and two bassoons against two trumpets and two trombones. The music is filled with contrapuntal assertions and responses between winds and brass. This heterodox ensemble is difficult to balance and wasn’t perfect in this respect here, and the position of the group didn’t seem to be in an acoustically ideal spot onstage. Still, the interplay between performers was impressive.

Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra is among the masterpieces of the past century. Like the octet, it is filled with counterpoint, including some of the fugal variety. Both Stravinsky and Bartók were able to navigate the delicate balance between music of the past and innovation. In addition to baroque music, Bartók references folk music from Eastern Europe. There is also a jocular trope on a theme by Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975), poking fun at his Russian counterpart for toeing the cultural lines drawn by Stalin. Not the first concerto for orchestra, in which each section gets an opportunity to be highlighted, it remains the best yet composed. The NY Phil, especially with the dynamic gestures of Salonen, played it like few other orchestras can dream to match.

In the performance’s second half, a more extensive work than Notations was presented. Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna was composed in 1975, while Boulez was still conducting the NY Phil. Maderna was a close associate, and his death from lung cancer at 53 was a difficult loss to contemplate. Although its use of gongs and chorale-like chords in the brass is evocative of ceremony, Rituel does not explicitly reference any religious traditions. Rather, it is a postmodern, secular type of valediction, in which spatial deployment envelops the audience in a solemn, eloquent meditation on grief. With a cohort onstage, other members of the orchestra were arrayed throughout the hall, their parts reverberating in well-coordinated fashion. There is a plethora of percussion instruments, with the players deployed in an additive fashion, with each of Rituel’s eight sections supplying more percussionists. This was also true of the other players in the other sections of the orchestra, supporting a long, powerful crescendo, one that then subsides in a gradual denouement.

The LA Dance Project was on hand for Rituel, performing onstage in front of, and sometimes between, members of the orchestra. It featured six dancers, two principals who wore black and four others in various shades of color. The choreography captured both fluid musical lines and percussive gestures, representing the stages of grief encountered after a loss in a dance that was modern in character and well-executed. Given Maderna’s death after an illness, the physicalization of violence, with both symbolic crucifixion and stabbing, seemed in places more like Sacre du Printemps than the demeanor of Rituel. Still, it added a layer of emotionality to a compelling use of the entirety of Geffen Hall. One hopes that more spatial music is on offer in the future, and that Salonen remains a frequent visitor to New York to perform with the orchestra.

-Christian Carey

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music

Reinier van Houdt & Andrew Liles – AMBIDEXTROUS CONSTELLATION


On August 15 of this year, Reinier van Houdt and Andrew Liles released a new album titled Ambidextrous Constellation. With narration by Ash Kilmartin, Ambidextrous Constellation is a radio play that chillingly incorporates “…lists of gun specifications and transcripts of experiences of gunshot victims.” Although this album is entirely the work of European artists working in Rotterdam, it is sure to have an immediate emotional impact on those hearing it in America.

Reinier van Houdt studied piano at the Liszt-Akademie in Budapest and the Royal Conservatory in The Hague and is a well-known presence in the contemporary music scene. He has performed premiers by Robert Ashley, Alvin Curran, Kaikhosru Shapurji Sorabji, and Charlemagne Palestine, among others, and has collaborated with luminaries such as John Cage, Alvin Lucier and Olivier Messiaen. Andrew Liles is a prolific solo artist, producer, re-mixer and studio engineer, who has been active in recording experimental music since the 1980s.

Ambidextrous Constellation consists of eight short pieces that run between four and seven minutes each. Each track is a mixture of electronic sounds with an overlying narration. The liner notes state that a gun is “A machine without morality or judgment.” and the electronic tones consistently support this. The overall feeling is devoid of any sense of humanity, excepting only the warm voice of narrator Ash Kilmartin.

My World opens the album with a series of electronic whooshes that could be abstract gunshots, followed by series of sinister bass chords. A menacing, matter-of-fact narration follows with no musical tones or singing: “In my world, everything is flat. Nothing moves.” The background sounds are sterile and mechanical with the only human presence being the spoken word. There is the description of a bullet flying towards a head. The electronic sounds now become a series of pulses, siren-like, mysterious and uncertain. We have entered a static world where: “nothing moves, nothing propagates.” My World ends quickly, without any resolution.

Iron Sights follows, and this second track is perhaps the most unsettling piece in the album. It begins with a strong percussive beat and electronic sounds that suggest the rapid firing of a weapon. The narrative description of an automatic rifle follows, deadpan and matter of fact: “L1A1, self-loading. barrel length, 20.4 inches. Rate of fire: 610 up to 775 rounds per minute.” Chilling in its dry, clinical description, the focus of the piece now shifts to the point of view of an automatic assault rifle. “Range 400 Meters. Muzzle velocity 940 Meters per second. Unit cost, 1,300 pounds. Aperture, Iron Sights.” Sustained electronic sounds fill the space between the words, adding to the alien and disconnected feeling.

Finally, a single tone is heard with fragments of unintelligible words that slowly fade into silence. The juxtaposition of cold, alien electronic background tones with the straightforward recitation of the assault rifle specifications make Iron Sights a powerful commentary on our fascination with such deadly weaponry.

Other tracks follow with a similar structure and pattern. The descriptions of the weapons get ever more intimidating. Body, Gas Operated, track 3, opens with mysterious bell tones and low rumbling sounds followed by faint, rapid gunfire in the distance accompanied by a rapid snare drumming. The narration begins “… 45 mm NATO cartridge. Barrel length 11 to 20 inches. Gas operated, short stroke piston, rotating bolt. 850 rounds per minute. Effective firing range: 300 meters.” 1984 To Present, track 5, begins with the sharp noise of static below a strong and rapid tom-tom beat. “Barrel length, 20 inches. Rate of fire: 700 to 950 rounds per minute. Muzzle velocity 945 Meters per second. Effective firing range 550 Meters…” Blackout Detachable, track 6, features the sound of a distant siren as the narration states: “AAC Blackout 300. Barrel length 35.7 inches. Unit cost $2233. Muzzle velocity 940 Meters per second. Rate of fire 800 to 900 rounds per minute. Effective firing range 503 Meters.” The listener feels as if buried under these vast and deadly descriptions of firepower.

Two of the pieces do, however, contain a human perspective. Trapped In A Constellation, the title track, starts with loud and harsh scratchy sounds, followed by lovely bell tones and electronic harmonies. The narration switches to a human point of view: “The habit that binds me to my limbs is suddenly gone – space extends.“ A background of beeps and bloops is heard, combined with ‘spacey’ electronic sounds. “I’ve become infinitely small and fall in all directions… Impossible to escape… I’m trapped in a constellation.” The listener is left with the distinct impression that this is a portrayal of instant death by gunshot.

Someone Else, the final track, is even more graphic. Electronic, alien sounds open this track, providing a remote and distant feel. The narration begins: “Silence. I don’t hear anything… [the bullet] entered my body almost quietly… Must have been very sharp and smooth. After an initial sting, I could feel my muscles contracting. I feel I should not move and stay very still. How do you breathe? I thought the bullet would quietly exit my body… “ Now the solemn electronic tones of a pipe organ are heard – distinctly spiritual. More narration: “Of course I moved eventually and then the real pain started. A dazzling pain that strikes your depths, my cells spitting out its electric suffering.” The music turns darker, with cold, spacey beeps creeping into the warmer pipe organ texture. The organ tones gradually diminish, replaced by distant electronic sounds at the quiet finish. A very moving final track to this very powerful album.

Ambidextrous Constellation is a compelling portrait of the unforgiving existence of the modern assault rifle. The emotional power of this album is all the greater because of the straightforward simplicity of its musical materials and a direct narrative approach. Ambidextrous Constellation is precisely the sort of artistry we need in a society besotted by a fascination with violence, guns and death.

Ambidextrous Constellation is available for digital download at Bandcamp.

by Paul Muller
Classical Music, Commissions, Composers, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Microtonalism, Piano, Review

Georg Friedrich Haas’ 11,000 Strings At Park Avenue Armory

11,000 Strings at Park Ave Armory
“11,000 Strings” by Georg Friedrich Haas at Park Ave Armory in NYC (credit: Stephanie Berger)

At first glance, it seems like a stunt: 50 pianos and pianists, plus 25 other instrumentalists, all arranged in a circle around the perimeter of the vast Drill Hall of the Park Avenue Armory in New York City. They were there to perform 11,000 Strings, a 66 minute composition by Georg Friedrich Haas, commissioned and performed by the Austrian new music ensemble Klangforum Wien. Performances began September 30 and run through October 7, 2025 (I attended on October 2).

At the onset, I was ready to condemn this work as B.S., a party trick, but it’s definitely more than that. Each of the 50 pianos were tuned differently from one another, in 50 steps of microtones. The carefully constructed piece began quietly, on a major chord. One would think it would be difficult to create dynamics any softer than forte, but this performance exhibited a great range of dynamic and timbral nuances.

Almost from the start I recognized that this was a visceral experience for me, similar to the way out-of-tune chords can sometimes invoke a queasy feeling. But this was not nausea. Instead, it was a pleasant vibration deep in my chest, bringing a sense of anticipation and occasionally excitement.

The overall aural effect was cinematic and evoked visual images like a swarm of cicadas, the spookiness of a horror film, mysterious anticipation and thunderous cacophony. As the piece wore on, I caught a glimpse of the digital readout in front of one of the pianists: 21:38. I was discouraged to realize that it indicated 21 minutes elapsed, therefore 45 more to go. At that moment, I was ready for a coda, a fermata and a big finish.

The fact that the Armory could create so much buzz around this avant-garde novelty piece and attract thousands to come experience it is impressive. It does seem like a lot of effort for an hour of music. You won’t leave the venue humming a tune, that’s for sure. But the molecules in your body may be permanently rearranged.

by Gail Wein
Composers, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, File Under?, Recording review

Ken Ueno sings Sonic Calligraphies in the Tank (Recording review)

Ken Ueno – Sonic Calligraphies (Off-record)

Composer and vocalist Ken Ueno is a creator and performer of notated composition, sound art, and improvisation. A professor at UC Berkeley, Ueno’s singing  involves extended techniques, with an investigation of throat-singing styles from many traditions being just one facet of them. His explorations have also often included using a megaphone. 

The megaphone is not often thought of in musical contexts, but rather as an amplifier of spoken voices, often strident in demeanor and used for warning of danger, imposition of power, and inducing fear. Ueno’s employment of it in previous contexts turned these aims on their heads, serving as commentary on political subterfuge and decolonization. His latest work for voice and megaphone, Sonic Calligraphies, does this too, but in a more abstract fashion. In order to obtain certain frequencies, he modifies vowels to create expressive, but not directly linguistic, inflections. 

Another partner in this endeavor is the recording venue, The Tank, a disused, large metal cistern in Rangely, Colorado. Converted from water container to performance venue, it has a one second delay and is extremely resonant. The inception of its use for performance was the iconic 1989 LP Deep Listening, made by Pauline Oliveros, Stuart Dempster, and Panaiotis. Oliveros later repurposed the recording’s title as a manifesto for her discipline of sound studies. Like this trio, Ueno employs the resonance of the tank, exploring its high ceiling and spacious interior with detailed attention. His sonic palette is a panoply of overtones, microtones, multiphonics, and glissandos. They are deployed in everything from gentle forays to dramatic sonic maelstroms. 

 

Facilitating this endeavor with a megaphone which, above all, is about messaging and overt declamation, makes its abstraction a virtue. The recording is a poetic rejoinder to the amplified discourse so often found today, emanating from the political talking heads on cable news, doom scrolls of social media, and animated disagreements in public and around the dinner table. Sonic Calligraphies may elude precise translation. However, it is eloquent and engaging in equal measure. 

 

-Christian Carey 



by Christian Carey
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Microtonalism, Orchestral

Peter Thoegersen – Symphony IV: melodiae perpetuae



Peter Thoegersen has posted a digital realization of his Symphony IV: melodiae perpetuae on Bandcamp. This is an ambitious piece for full orchestra with a running time of just over 52 minutes. Symphony IV is a work in progress; it is intended to be poly microtonal and poly tempic in its ultimate form. The recording posted at this writing is realized in 12TET tuning with various sections of the orchestra heard in different tempi simultaneously. Thoegersen writes: “Each choir of the orchestra is moving separately in Fuxian contrapuntal motions, such as contrary, parallel, similar, and oblique, with respect to tempi changes in the choirs.” Fragments of Gregorian chant from the Liber Usualis form the foundation for the various sections as they ebb and flow throughout this single movement piece. Updates to Symphony IV will be posted on Bandcamp as software improvements and other refinements are implemented.

Peter Thoegersen has devoted much of his career to the exploration of multiple simultaneous tempi that intersect with scales and harmony constructed from micro tonal pitches. He has produced a number of works realized digitally as well as several performed pieces. These have been mostly for smaller and mid-sized ensembles, so the application of Thoegersen’s methodology to full symphonic forces represents a significant escalation of his artistic intentions. Symphony IV, even in its present unfinished form, gives an insight into this process.

In a conventional 19th century symphony, there is typically a sonata structure so that the various sections of the orchestra pass around a common theme and introduce variations. Symphony IV is nothing like this. From the very beginning we are immersed in a great wash of sounds and all the parts of the orchestra seem to be playing at once. This might seem to be a recipe for sonic chaos, but it proves to be more engaging than distracting. Different sections of the orchestra are often heard crossing through each other, and this creates an intriguing kaleidoscope of textures that are continuously unfolding as the piece progresses. At times the great wash of sound might remind of a piece like Becoming Ocean, by John Luther Adams. As the sections intersect and collide, snatches of what could be passages from David Diamond’s Symphony I or Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra might be heard.

The overall feeling in this music changes quickly and can vary from mysterious, to ominous, haunting, grand or tense. The Gregorian chant fragments embedded in this piece provide a solid foundational gravitas throughout. Often a single section, usually the brass or percussion, will rise to the top of the texture and dominate briefly. The strings provide a restrained background against which the other sections can emerge and contrast. A piano line of single notes will occasionally rise up over the woodwinds to trigger the memory of a piano concerto. The dynamics rise and fall, often depending on which section is dominating. The timpani often heralds a tutti crescendo that ends with a bold trumpet call. It is perhaps the employment of full orchestral forces that allow the listener to pick out favorite or familiar-sounding phrases. But these come in the absence of a conventional structure and so are enjoyed without any framing context. This uncertainty increases the engagement of the listener.

How far into the unorthodox will Symphony IV ultimately travel? Only time will tell, but the journey will doubtless be full of surprises and worth following.

by Paul Muller