Harry Partch, 1942 is a combination CD and printed hardcover book from MicroFest Records that documents the events leading up to Partch’s pivotal recital in Kilbourn Hall at the Eastman School of Music on November 3, 1942. This proved to be the turning point in Partch’s career, after many years of frustration and hardship pursuing his innovative tuning theory. The CD contains the original recording of the recital and lecture at Kilbourn Hall and includes The Lord is My Shepherd, selections from Seventeen Lyrics by Li Po and the iconic Barstow. The book brings together notes, letters, newspaper accounts and Partch’s own artistic manifesto. When combined, his recorded words and music produce a deeper appreciation of this immensely influential composer.
Those who follow new music at some point become aware of Harry Partch as a pioneer of alternate tuning theory and the creator of handmade acoustic instruments. We have likely heard a performance of the popular Barstow and formed a rather hazy image of Partch as a luckless vagabond toiling away in obscurity. While all this is partly true, Harry Partch, 1942 provides a wealth of material that illuminates an active and highly developed intellect that will cause even the most doubtful listener to reconsider the value of his work.
In the center of the book is a reproduced copy of Partch’s hand-typed resume: “The Music Philosophy and Work of Harry Partch Composer – Instrument Builder and Player – Theorist.” This occupies a dozen pages and includes sections on his music theory and system, notation, his instruments and a personal biography. This alone makes Harry Partch, 1942 worth owning. The biography is especially revealing and describes his early interest in the science of wave theory – especially the Helmholtz-Ellis book Sensations of Tone. This resulted in the conviction that conventional music lacked ‘true intervals’ and the remedy Partch proposed was a tuning system that contained no less than 43 divisions of the octave. He soon began building several specialized musical instruments designed to achieve this. The book also describes how Partch continued his private research in the British Museum in London, studying Greek and other historical tuning systems. A visit with W.B. Yeats in Dublin evolved into the theory of ‘speech music’; the idea that music should contain the inflections and rhythmic patterns that give human speech its emotional power. The depth and discipline of Partch’s self-directed study is astonishing.
Harry Partch, 1942 also describes the difficulties he endured during his long struggle to advance his unique musical vision. Partch worked for a time in the proofing rooms of various California newspapers as well as other odd jobs to support his art. Always short of funds, he nevertheless continued to experiment with tuning and the construction his instruments. He was, as he described in his biography, “…beginning to retrace the whole history of the theory of music.” When the ‘adapted viola’ was completed Partch gave countless demonstrations and networked among local California musicians and music patrons. He applied for, and was awarded, a Carnegie Grant of $1500 that allowed him to travel to England to further his research. Upon his return he lived in a small cabin in Carmel, CA to further refine his new instruments. Eventually Partch built the viola, two reed organs, a kitharn and the adapted guitar. As compiled by John Schneider, the liner notes and text in Harry Partch, 1942 covers all of this in detail, without being tedious or boring.
The book also describes Partch’s 1941 epiphany in Carmel, the legendary two-week hitch-hiking journey to Chicago and his efforts there to promote his music. Famously, Partch arrived in Chicago with just ten cents in his pocket but soon embarked on a series of undesirable jobs while supporting his music. There is a copy of a November, 1941 concert bill at the Chicago School of Design, where Partch performed, that also included works by John Cage and Lou Harrison. The book also has copies of the letters that Partch wrote to various new music luminaries to solicit support, and these efforts ultimately gained him an invitation from Howard Hanson to lecture and perform at the Eastman School the following year. Harry Partch, 1942 carefully lays out the sequence of circumstances that led up to this decisive moment in his career.
The CD included with the book was crafted from the original recording of his appearance in Kilbourn Hall. The CD is divided up into 16 separate tracks, each containing a distinctive element of the lecture. The first thing you notice is that, although not studio perfect, the quality is surprisingly good given the technology of the early recording machines in use at the time. Scott Fraser’s restoration work here is especially noteworthy. Partch’s lecturing is also remarkable in that he is articulate, thoughtful and always in full command of his subject. The explanations and demonstrations of his tuning scheme and instruments are full of technical detail, yet concise and eloquent. His engagement with the student audience is notable, especially with his singing and sly humor. No doubt Partch had much previous experience presenting his ideas, but his delivery in this recording is polished and a pleasure to hear.
In the CD, Partch describes and then demonstrates his speech music technique with The Lord is My Shepherd (23d Psalm), sung and accompanied by the composer playing the chromolodian. The adapted viola is introduced and then used to accompany several of the Seventeen Lyrics by Li Po. This proves to be a more effective demonstration with the exotic drama of the English translation nicely complimented by the timbre and diverse pitch set of the viola. An enthusiastic ovation follows, doubtless inspired by Partch’s masterful playing as the vocals are clearly heard working in tandem with the expressive lyrics. Far from his reputation as the rumpled vagabond, Partch here shows himself to be a first-rate performer.
The final sections of the CD are devoted to Barstow, with Partch describing his adapted guitar along with the background and origins of this enduring work. As Barstow is speech music, based on the interaction between the singing voice and accompaniment, we have in this fine recording the definitive performance by it’s talented composer.
Harry Partch, 1942 is a brilliantly organized portrait of the events in a critical year for Harry Partch – and for new music in general. This handsome book, with its meticulously engineered CD, belongs on the bookshelf of anyone who is studying or working in alternate tuning.
Harry Partch, 1942 is available from MicroFest Records and Amazon.
Wolfgang Rihm
Jagden und Formen
Bavarian Radio Orchestra, Franck Ollu, conductor
BR-Klassik CD
Wolfgang Rihm’s hour long orchestra work Jagden und Formen (2008) has its roots in an earlier work, some fifteen minutes long, from 1996, dedicated to Helmut Lachenmann on his sixtieth birthday. The piece ultimately morphed and expanded into the version recorded here. There is precedence for this in postwar Europe, particularly in several of the works of Pierre Boulez, which remained in progress and perpetually expanding throughout his lifetime. In his program note, Rihm says that the piece will henceforth likely remain in its current form.
While it is dedicated to Lachenmann, the piece remains solidly in Rihm’s language. The music is muscular, post-tonal, and replete with strongly articulated gestures. At the same time, there are guideposts that afford the listener a sense of groundedness: returning sections, repeated pitches that provide momentary centers, and phrase boundaries that include landing points akin to cadences.
The piece’s scoring is somewhat unusual. Winds are doubled, but strings are one to a part, the result being a kind of sinfonietta with bolstered textures. The choice for solo strings is canny, in that Rihm frequently deploys them like a chamber quintet within the whole ensemble. The extraordinary tone of the Bavarian Radio Orchestra’s strings undoubtedly abets this impression. This is equally true of the rest of the ensemble, which frequently creates glistening textures and just as often fluid counterpoint that ricochets between instrumental cohorts.
The recording is broken up into tracks, but these do not demarcate movements. They connote sections with particular tempos and scoring, and so suggest the overall formal trajectory of the piece. Adding to the aforementioned concertino impression are a number of solo turns. Particularly impressive are the blindingly fast runs by pitched percussion and the equally fast angular solos taken by the oboe and bassoon. Jagden und Formen traverses a number of tempos, and it is to Franck Ollu’s credit that transitions are seamlessly negotiated and even the most breathless passages are well-coordinated. The piece’s abundant variety and compelling sound world make it a solid addition to Rihm’s compendious catalog. Jagden und Formen will likely see more performances, but this recording will long remain a benchmark.
-Christian Carey
Interialcell
Aleksandra Gryka
Florian Müller, harpsichord; Klangforum Wien, Joseph Kalitzke, conductor
Kairos CD
Klangforum Wien is undertaking a series of portrait recordings on Kairos of Polish composers. The first solo CD of music by Aleksandra Gyrka (b. 1977), Interialcell, is an impressive introduction to this composer. Consisting of ensemble pieces written from 2003 to 2015, Interialcell provides a sense of the maturation of an already talented composer in her late twenties to work that takes on successively more intricate materials and formal designs in her thirties.
Regarding the impetus for her music, Gryka is fairly secretive. The hard sciences, particularly quantum physics, are mentioned frequently as a reference point, as are cosmology and sci-fi. A number of her works deal with uncomfortable emotions in extremis, notably the theatre works Scream You! and Our Hell and incidental music for several plays. The instrumental pieces on Interialcell may not have a narrative component that is specifically locatable, but they clearly are wrought from the same combination of scientific, theatrical, and fantastical elements, melding together a panoply of musical elements to provide a sense of this inspirational diversity.
Youmec is a work for harpsichord and ensemble. Florian Müller is frequently called upon to play clustered verticals as well as enigmatic ostinatos. These are accompanied by undulating glissandos in the ensemble. In a sense, the texture is an inversion of the usual concertino. The soloist plays chords while the group is afforded gestural writing. At the piece’s climax, the ensemble begins to ricochet its own vertical off of the solo’s repeated chords.
Interialcell opens with thrumming timpani and angular melodic cells in the strings alongside fast chromatic runs in the piano and pitched percussion. The accents of the cells become a grid for rhythmic transformations in a number of scorings and dynamic levels; a deft structural design. Emtyloop begins with furious, corruscating, overlapping strings. This idea of overlapping ostinatos is explored throughout the piece, with hairpin dynamics creating swooning contrasts. Particularly affecting is the later overlap in the upper “dolphin call” register, supplanted by cello glissandos. einerjedeneither juxtaposes percussion pulsations with chromatic wind lines, spectral verticals, and frequent silences. Instruments blown through, aphoristic piano gestures, and microtonal bends complete a haunting, gradually unfolding environment.
Mutedisorder closes out the album with furtive, hushed gestures in a portentous ambience. It is somewhat reminiscent of Mark André’s recent works exploring pianissimo. Gryka demonstrates command over the wide range of materials she selects and a special ear for timbre. Recommended.
-Christian Carey
Two years ago, I was editing a 2020 interview with the composer David Lang about the new multi-day festival that Bang on a Can planned for that spring, Long Play, when I realized the significance of the festival title. The year 2020 would be Bang on a Can’s 33rd anniversary. Long Play = LP = 33 rpm. Very clever! Although the festival was delayed for two years, it retains its name.
The inaugural Long Play festival takes place on April 29, April 30 and May 1, 2022 at a half-dozen venues in Brooklyn, including BAM, Roulette, Littlefield, the Center for Fiction, Mark Morris Dance Center, Public Records and the outdoor plaza at 300 Ashland. Over 60 performances are scheduled. Some are free, but most are accessed via a day pass ($95) or a three-day festival pass ($195). Over a hundred performers range from the Sun Ra Arkestra to jazz pianist Vijay Iyer to bagpiper Matthew Welsh (complete list is here).
Lang, along with the composers Julia Wolfe and Michael Gordon launched Bang on a Can in New York City in 1987 with a 12-hour concert in a downtown art gallery. The organization became known for its annual marathon concerts in New York, and later expanded to include a performance group (the Bang on a Can All-Stars), a commissioning program, education programs and festivals at MASS MoCA in the Berkshires, a record label (Cantaloupe), and an on-going extensive online series created when live concerts were cancelled during the pandemic.
Looking back on our conversation on February 25, 2020, most of what Lang and I discussed is still relevant to the rescheduled Long Play Festival. Here is the interview, edited for length and clarity.
Gail Wein Successful marathons have been your signature event for Bang on a Can for 33 years. So what prompted the creation of this differently-formatted festival, Long Play?
David Lang Over the last couple of marathons we have tried to expand our reach to different kinds of music and to other kinds of communities. After a while of doing that, we felt like we were inviting people on to the marathon for slots of 15 or 20 minutes that we wished were an hour or two hours. And so we got interested in a lot of other kinds of music and it just seemed like we weren’t spending enough time with them.
I remember thinking – this is at the last marathon – people would come in and they would go, “That was incredible. Why am I only wanting that for fifteen minutes?” What we’re hoping to do with this is to say, we’ve uncovered all these incredible connections between all these different kinds of music. And now we really want to let people go deeper into what those connections do and where they go.
Gail Wein Of course, it’s a much bigger scope. Three days, and a bunch of venues. And instead of the marathon’s free admission, this one is ticketed.
David Lang There’s still going to be a bunch of free things, including some outdoor events, because we really like the idea that we have a wide doorway, that lots of different kinds of people can come through with no barriers. But it’s also true that when you start working with so many hundreds of musicians and so many different kinds of venues, that it’s just not possible for us to fundraise to make the entire thing free anymore. So we came up with this plan that, for essentially the price of one ticket, you get a pass which allows you to see everything and then you’ll just be able to go in and out of performances and check out music from all these different communities.
Gail Wein How does the aesthetic of the performers and the programs and the repertoire differ from that of the marathons?
David Lang I don’t think it differs at all.
We’re still looking for people whose definition of what they do is: they wake up in the morning and tell themselves that they’re innovators. They wake up and they say, there’s a kind of traditional music that’s involved in my world and I’m not doing that. That’s always been the way we’ve judged people to come on to the marathon. We wanted to find people who were pushing their fields. The difference here is that we’re able to go deeper into other kinds of communities like jazz and rock music and indie pop and ambient and electronica and be able to invite more people who are pushing their boundaries.
Gail Wein I was thinking about the longevity of Bang on a Can as an institution. Institutions come and go, organizations come and go, various folks have mounted series, marathons, festivals. But not that many have lasted a third of a century. To what do you attribute Bang on a Can’s longevity?
David Lang I’m sure some of it is just dumb luck. But also we have a kind of hippie mentality about what it is we do, where we want everyone involved in the organization to be as excited and passionate about it as possible. If something comes up that we are not passionate about, we don’t do it. Some organizations, they just begin to think, well, we have a payroll to meet. We’ve got to do this, and this is what we did last year.
One of the things that we’re really proudest of about this festival and also about our sister festival that we started in summer, which is the Loud Weekend Festival at Mass Moca, is that we’re able to change and get excited about other kinds of things and then turn the organization so that it can take advantage of what we’re all really excited about. Everyone who works at Bang on a Can is a musician; we only hire people who are musicians. And so when we talk about these things in the office, we really are sharing ideas of the things that we are all getting excited about. And so when you do something like this, when you say this is a new direction that we’re going in, or this is the kind of music we want to include, or this is a new initiative for something we’d like to do, it’s something that energizes everybody. That’s one of the reasons why we can stay fresh, because everybody understands how committed we all are to the mission of the organization.
Gail Wein I’ve been thinking about this: New York City is already one big music festival every single day.
David Lang It is.
Gail Wein So why do you think New York and New Yorkers need this festival?
David Lang One of the beautiful things about this is the pass, quite honestly. In New York, there are always 500 concerts to see every single night. And you pay your money and you go see it and you stick it out, right? And then you say, I know I’m going to see this one, I don’t know that other kind of music, so I’m going to go see the one I know because I have to pay the money and I have to sit there for the concert.
At Long Play, we have all of this music within a few blocks of each other, all in walking distance, in Brooklyn, all the concerts are scheduled to go on simultaneously. What I’m really hoping will happen is that people with the pass will be encouraged to check out things that they wouldn’t necessarily check out because they have the right to go to that concert. So that’s our thought of how to replace the thing that we loved so much about the marathon, which is to put this kind of music next to each other, so that someone would come out of watching twelve hours of the music at the marathon and having a kind of cross section of a huge swath of interesting innovative things. What we’re hoping now will happen is that because I’ve already bought a pass, I’m going to check it out. And if I don’t like it, I can get up in 10 minutes and go check something else out. I’m not obligated to spend $50 for a concert of stuff I don’t know.
Gail Wein How did you choose and curate the artists and the programs and the venues as well?
David Lang We wanted to find places that were all in walking distance. And of course, that means that we started talking to everybody a year ago in order to get on their schedules. And then we just went to every single person who works in Bang on a Can and asked, what do you want to see? People just thought, what’s the widest, most varied, most exciting bunch of things from a bunch of different musical directions that we can come up with?
Gail Wein What do you hope audiences will come away with after experiencing the Long Play Festival?
David Lang What I’m really hoping will happen is that people will think that the world is full of all sorts of exciting things going on right now. And and that it’s full of creativity and wildness and inspiration and and that the world is very large. You know, I think sometimes when you go to a concert that’s neatly packaged and everything fits and everything makes sense. You go, this is a complete experience andI don’t need anything else. What I’m really hoping will happen is that people will come to this thing and they’ll go. That was unbelievable. And the world is full of all sorts of things that I have to continue to check out.
I asked David Lang which of the artists and programs were his favorite. A message he sent in an email newsletter earlier this month sums up his thoughts about the 2022 festival.
April 5, 2022
LONG PLAY really reminds me of those choose-your-own-adventure books – you get to make your own musical path through each day.
That is why I am going to plot my course through the weekend, very very carefully – I want to make sure I build my schedule around the concerts that I really have to see. Such as:
Stimmung – Karlheinz Stockhausen – It is hard to imagine that a European modernist classic from the 1960’s is in reality a meditation on everyone in the world having sex with each other, but that is what it is. Ekmeles sings at the Mark Morris Dance Center at 5pm on Friday, April 29.
Iva Casian-Lakos plays Joan La Barbara – Bang on a Can introduced these two to each other on one of our Pandemic Marathons last year, commissioning a new work from Joan for Iva’s fiery cello playing. The result was so electrifying that they have made it into a show, and I need to hear how it has grown. At the Center for Fiction at 2pm on Sunday.
Vijay Iyer, Linda May Han Oh, Tyshawn Sorey – Their album UNEASY came out last year on ECM and it has been on heavy rotation in my studio ever since. It’s tuneful and moody and thoughtful, and I really want to hear them play together, live. At Roulette on Saturday at 8pm.
Eddy Kwon – composer, singer, violinist – their music is so beautiful and flows so smoothly across so many boundaries that is hard for me to even describe it. The songs feel like the hit arias from the foundational music of a culture I have never experienced before. Magic. Sunday at 4pm at the Center for Fiction.
Ornette Coleman – The Shape of Jazz to Come – Coleman was a motivator for so much forward motion in music. This legendary album from 1959 was a big part of that, and it is still pushing musicians to move forward. I want to be there when six composers show us how with their world premieres. At BAM’s Opera House 7:30pm on Sunday, May 1.
And then I have to figure out how to run between all the other shows, trying to see as much as I can.
Nona Hendryx! Arvo Pärt! Sun Ra! Éliane Radigue! Zoë Keating! Galina Ustvolskaya! Pamela Z! JG Thirlwell! Soo-Yeon Lyuh! Craig Harris! The Brooklyn Youth Chorus! More! Much more!
Plus I will try to see my own show (Death Speaks) with Shara Nova on Sunday at Mark Morris, if I can figure out how to fit it in.
Whatever the schedule ends up looking like, I have a feeling you are going to see me there with circles under my eyes, as I run from show to show to show to show to show.
But I know I am going to be super happy.
– David Lang
Living Earth Show and Danny Clay
Music for Hard Times
Self-released CD
It is fair to say that recent times have been hard on nearly everyone. Living Earth Show decided to create an interdisciplinary project, “Music for Hard Times,” to provide a source of musical comfort. They collaborated on the project with composer and music educator Danny Clay, who created a series of open instrumentation scores to be interpreted by the group and made available for others to play. Music for Hard Times, the CD, provides one possible, and compelling, interpretation of Clay’s work.
Bell sonorities, pitched percussion, piano, and guitars are the primary instruments of Living Earth Show’s recording. In places, string pads halo the proceedings, and late in the album, lyric-less singing and string solos join in. Some online music platforms have pegged Music for Hard Times as New Age, but it encompasses a number of genres, with some of the scores affording leaping intervals and chromaticism that suggest contemporary classical being a strong influence. Elsewhere, ostinatos evoke post-minimalism. Clay’s scores invite a plethora of scorings, and Living Earth Show’s arrangements supply abundant variety, and beauty, in response.
The performances are lush, ambling, and soothing: just what is on order for hard times.
- Christian Carey
The Noon to Midnight event at Disney Hall allows you to choose from twenty different performances at various places throughout the venue. It is impossible to see everything over the twelve hours, but here is more about of what I heard.
Jacaranda Music took the main concert stage at 2:00 PM to perform The Illusion of Permanence, by Rajna Swaminathan, a world premiere and LA Phil commission. The ensemble arrived, consisting of double bass, cello, viola and violin along with a flute, oboe, trumpet, marimba and piano. The composer played the tabla and provided vocals. All were led by conductor David Bloom. The sound from this smallish ensemble filled the big hall nicely with a languid, tranquil feeling. The tabla kept up a steady, reassuring pulse that also added an exotic feeling – this was clearly inspired by the Indian Classical tradition. The familiar Western acoustic instruments mixed easily with the mystical sensibility of the music, resulting in very accessible sound. As the piece proceeded, solos from each instrument floated in and out of the texture, adding to the peaceful feeling. At the finish the musicians left their chairs and moved about the stage while singing in lovely harmony. As the last sounds of The Illusion of Permanence faded away, there was a long, thoughtful silence as the audience processed this quietly beautiful piece.
Later that afternoon percussionist Joseph Pereira assembled his collection of timpani, a bass drum, amplifiers and computers in BP Hall for a performance two original pieces, both world premiers. They were the product of experimentation during the long months of Covid isolation when there was little opportunity to play in public. Both pieces explore the recording and electronic processing of sounds made by various new methods of exciting the drum head surface. Magnificent Desolation was first, performed on a large bass drum mounted such that the drum head was horizontal. A microphone was placed over this and a series of rushing sounds were produced by striking or rubbing the drum head with various objects. The processed and amplified sounds were then projected out into the vast BP Hall spaces, with impressive results. At times the sounds were like the booming of thunder or the soft swirl of the surf on beach sand. A wooden block applied to the drum head produced a rougher, almost abrasive sound that was processed into a great roar. A mallet striking became a cannon shot and a metallic, bell-like vessel on the drum head added a mechanical feel when amplified. A cymbal was brought crashing down on the drum with what could only be called a startling result when amplified. When the cymbal was bowed while resting on the drum, the effect was convincingly alien. Magnificent Desolation extended and then dramatically illustrated the vocabulary of the bass drum, taking it far beyond its conventional role.
Kyma, for timpani and electronics followed. A set of four timpani were amplified and the sounds processed as in the previous piece. This configuration gave Pereira chance to show off some serious percussion chops as he moved smoothly among the drums producing various effects. When conventional mallets were applied in a typical roll, the amplified result was a loud booming that resembled a powerful explosion. The rapid mixing of strikes on all four timpani produced an unexpected variety of new sounds. Kyma was a virtuosic display of new techniques possible on the timpani, that traditional anchor of orchestral percussion.
After the percussion, Piano Spheres arrived in BP Hall in the persons of Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay for the performance two keyboard pieces. The first of these was Rad, by Eno Poppe and this was a duet with two electronic keyboards programmed for microtones. This began with one keyboard sounding a repeating phrase as the second soon joined in counterpoint. This soon morphed into a series of pleasantly complex and highly independent phrases that shared a common beat. As this progressed, jumpy rhythms and cascading waves of microtonal sounds swept out over the BP Hall audience that had filled to overflowing. There were even a long row of onlookers peering down from the bar on the upper level. The coordination between the Piano Spheres players was remarkable, even as the phrasing became louder and the rhythms more percussive.
The piece then changed, continuing with an ambling tempo and a feeling that was slightly more subdued. At length, a series of short, snappish phrases emerged in a sort of call-and-answer conversation that intensified into an outright argument. Long, growling phrases were issued, sending furious sheets of sound throughout the hall. The tempo and energy increased until finally the two performers collapsed onto their keyboards, their forearms creating a final, climactic tone cluster. A huge ovation followed for what was a skillful and exciting performance by two outstanding pianists.
The second piece from Piano Spheres was Four Organs by Steve Reich. Thomas Kotcheff and Sarah Gibson joined Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay for this venerable work of classic minimalism. The four keyboard performers and Derek Tywoniuk, the maraca player, all sat around a table, and this proved important as it allowed the keyboardists to communicate visually. Four Organs began with a steady beat provided by the maraca and a short two-note phrase from all four keyboards. At length, one of the players added to the short note before the tutti chord. As the piece continued, the other players began to lengthen their notes, often starting a beat or two ahead of the others. Unlike other Reich works where eighth-note rhythms are typically varied by addition or subtraction, Four Organs continues with the players adding to the lengthening phrases at different times – a sort of obverse counterpoint.
All of this takes careful counting and a close communication between the players. The steady maraca pulse helped, but the performers were in constant eye contact and could be seen nodding their heads together to confirm the count. The resulting precision was impressive. The sound system was also up to the challenge of BP Hall, typically noisy from foot traffic around the adjacent escalators. Four Organs was successfully navigated by the performers and made for a nice minimalist respite after the frenzy of the previous piece.
Just at sunset, BP Hall was reconfigured for Song Cycle, LIVE by Special Request, composed by Chris Kallmyer and a world premiere commissioned by the LA Phil. Three large tables were placed a few feet apart, two of which were equipped with keyboards and a variety of everyday and musical objects. The third table had a microphone and a stack of cut flowers. A ‘superteam’ of musicians were stationed by the tables; two at the keyboards as well as a guitar and trumpet. Kallmyer was at the microphone to recite his text for the piece and director Zoe Aja Moore stood ready by the flowers. Song Cycle is designed to be an indefinite piece with no fixed time limit; this performance ran about 45 minutes. The text consisted of a few dozen simple statements, variously introspective, reflective or nostalgic. The sequence of these can be randomly re-ordered for as long as the piece is to be performed.
Song Cycle began with slowly changing chords and a beautiful ambient wash that formed the perfect foundation for the other instrumental sounds as they entered and exited the flow. Kallmyer slowly and deliberately recited the text, his voice resting easy on the ears and quietly inhabiting the emotions of the music. The sounds were sustained and the pace languid. At times, instrumental lines rose and subsided adding some variety to the texture. As the words of the text fell on the different colors in the music, new emotions stirred in the listener. The effect was like pondering a sunset and watching the slowly changing colors unfold.
After the first run through of the text, a new sequence was begun and the pace increased slightly. Director Moore then took some flowers from the table and began building an arrangement in a large vase. The music and text continued as before, but the building of the flower arrangement occupied the visual attention of the listener, increasing the mental space for the meditative element of the experience. This was a brilliant bit of stagecraft and greatly increased the engagement of the audience. As the flower arrangement was completed, the piece softly coasted to its close. Song Cycle LIVE by Special Request is typical Kallmyer, a masterful combination of text, sound and simplicity that brings infinite possibilities for contemplative inspiration.
Please read Mark Swed’s fine review of Noon to Midnight in the LA Times for his coverage of many of the pieces I was not able to hear.
J.S. Bach: St. Matthäus-Passion
Pygmalion, Raphaël Pichon
Harmonia Mundi 2xCD
J.S. Bach: St. John Passion
English Baroque Soloists, Monteverdi Choir, John Eliot Gardiner, conductor
Deutsche Grammophon 2XCD
The Bach Passions are a staple of the choral repertoire for Holy Week, and there are a number of fine recordings of them. There’s room for more; two additions to this corpus from 2022 are extraordinary: a St. Matthew Passion recorded by Pygmalion, directed by Raphaël Pichon for HM, and a St. John Passion by one of the great Bach conductors, John Eliot Gardiner, with his house bands the English Baroque Soloists and Monteverdi Choir, for DG. Even if you already have recordings of these remarkable works in your collection, it is well worth investing in these. Both are recorded in vivid sound and take a period-informed approach that is lithe and lively, never fussy.
Pichon crafts an exciting version of the St. Matthew Passion that underscores its theological story and musical gravitas. Some recordings split tracks in such a way that there is a distinct feeling of stopping and starting again. Not this one, where the listener is afforded a propulsive trajectory all the way through the trial and execution of Jesus that scarcely lets up. Julian Prégardien as the Evangelist and Stéphane Degout as Christ make for a compelling pair of principals, both underscoring the narrative component of the Passion setting. The soloists, taken from the choruses of Pygmalion, provide singing of arias that is supple and often poignant. In particular, bass-baritone Christian Immler’s singing of the arias “Gebt zum meinem Jesu wieder” and “Mache dich, mein Herze rein” are some of the best versions on record and Tim Mead is a memorable presence in the countertenor solos.
Gardiner’s recording – his third of the St. John Passion – was made from a live performance that occurred on Good Friday, 2021. In adhering to Covid protocols, the performers were more spread out than they usually would be. Rather than weakening the impact of the piece, the spaciousness of ensemble deployment serves it well, with contrapuntal lines distinctly rendered and tutti passages losing little of their weight. The choir’s sections are vivid, displaying excellent diction and musicality, and the instrumentalists present Bach’s music with sensitive tuning and diverse timbral combinations. The soloists, to a person, are compelling interpreters who are well cast in their respective roles. The difference in sound between the two tenors, Nick Pritchard’s eloquent Evangelist and Peter Davoren’s powerful tenor solos, is a fetching contrast. William Thomas, cast as Jesus, provides a strong and eloquent protagonist. In their solos, soprano Julia Doyle and countertenor Alexander Chance spin legato lines that dovetail with obbligato instruments in seamless blends.
Now The Green Blade Riseth
The Choir of King’s College, Cambridge, Daniel Hyde, conductor
Matthew Martin, Paul Greally, organ
On Now The Green Blade Riseth, the Choir of King’s College, Cambridge, presents selections that reflect the Holy Week journey from Palm Sunday to Easter. They include hymns and anthems that range in date from the Renaissance to the present day, with special emphasis on pieces that have been performed at King’s in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Daniel Hyde has crafted the choristers’ voices into an extraordinary blend, from the clarion topmost trebles to a powerful bass section, particularly for one found in a scholastic setting.
The hymn-singing emphasizes a blend and balance that encourages collectivity; listeners may well find themselves singing along, particularly to the Palm Sunday hymn “Ride On in Majesty,” and a rousing version of “Jesus Christ is Risen Today,” which includes a cadenza with some surprising twists and turns. Those who have performed with church choirs, from amateurs to professionals, will doubtless enjoy the inclusion of John Stainer’s anthem “God So Loved the World,” from his cantata The Crucifixion. Bob Chilcott’s version of the title hymn, using Lydian rather than the original tune’s Dorian mode, shows off the delicate stops on the organ and piano singing from the choir to great advantage.
There are gems aplenty among the anthems, both in terms of selection of repertoire and performance. The Ubi Caritas setting by Maurice Durufle is the writer’s favorite selection on the CD, a beautiful work beautifully performed. Civitas Sancti Tui by William Byrd, which scholars have often suggested is a coded message of solidarity with recusant Catholics under Elizabeth’s reign, finds the choristers reveling in luxurious imitative counterpoint. O Salutaris Hostis by Giacchino Rossini instead provides powerful tutti passages in an operatic shading of a church anthem. Antonio Lotti’s Crucifixus balances chordal writing with aching suspensions.
English music from Elgar forward is given particularly affectionate treatment. That composer’s relatively early “Light of Life,” affords the organ a lush accompaniment and the singers’ close-knit harmonies. Samuel Sebastian Wesley’s “Wash Me Throughly” features treble solos and ensemble passages, reminding listeners of the extraordinary musical training that young people receive at King’s. A standout is John Ireland’s “Greater Love Hath No Man,” which begins subtly with intricate harmonies and builds to a soaring climax. Christus Vincit by Martin Baker alternates melodic phrases between upper and lower voices and a vigorous organ part. The CD closes with a transcription by Durufle of Tournemire’s Improvisation sur le ‘Victimae Paschali,’ a solo organ piece that serves as a postlude ending things in virtuosic fashion. Thoroughly recommended for Easter or any time of year.
-Christian Carey
On Saturday, April 9, after a pandemic-enforced hiatus of two years, the Noon to Midnight: A Day of New Music event returned to the Disney Concert Hall sponsored by the Los Angeles Philharmonic. This popular open house features local new music groups and performances throughout the Disney Hall venue. It is informal, low cost, and a chance to catch up with musical friends and listen to a variety of new sounds. The LA Phil commissioned a number of pieces and their New Music Group also performed. The many offerings overlap so you can’t hear all of it, but with 12 hours of new music scheduled, there is something for everyone.
Beginning exactly at noon, Tuning Meditation, by Pauline Oliveros, was conducted by Clare Chase in the cavernous BP Hall space. As the audience filed in, small printed cards were handed out that contained the entire score of Tuning Meditation. Ms. Chase explained that this was an audience participation piece and read out the instructions from the score: “Using any vowel sound, sing a tone that you hear in your imagination. After contributing your tone, listen for someone else’s tone and tune to its pitch as exactly as possible. Continue by alternating between singing a tone of your own and tuning to the tone of another voice. Introduce new tones at will and tune to as many different voices as are present. Sing warmly.”
Ms. Chase started this off with a clear pitch and began walking through the assembled audience who were all standing and scattered through the space. There were several hundred people present and since many were skilled musicians, a variety of lovely tones soon emerged. The various pitches swelled and subsided as new and exquisite harmonies spontaneously appeared and just as quickly evaporated. Layers of vocals enveloped the participants and the transcendental connections among this cloud of human voices was very moving. The normally challenging acoustic of BP Hall was, happily, not an impediment to the intimate exchange of musical emotion rising from so many voices. The Oliveros concept of Deep Listening is nowhere better illustrated than with Tuning Meditation – so simple, yet so very effective.
The Southland Ensemble next and the players formed a large semicircle to perform A Simple Opera, by Ben Patterson. This consisted of a narrator who began by speaking simple declarative phrases into a microphone, followed by an increasing series of short honks and plinks from the surrounding instruments. As the piece continued, the spoken phrases grew shorter while the instrumental bursts grew longer. This simple technique had the unexpected effect of cheerfully engaging the audience. The words from the narrator amounted to a brief explanation of the piece and a warm welcome to the Noon to Midnight event.
The Southland Ensemble made some quick configuration adjustments and soon began “Paragraph 2” from The Great Learning, by Cornelius Cardew, the English experimental composer. The ensemble was divided into three groups, each with a drummer, a lead vocalist and supporting singers. The text for the piece is derived from an English translation of the sayings of Confucius and each vocalist sings out a phrase as the other groups respond. All of this is independent and indeterminate, with much freedom of interpretation. There is no common tempo or pulse. The drummers individually select a rhythm from a list notated in the score, then change this as and when desired. The lead vocalist of one of the groups begins by singing out a phrase through a megaphone and this is supported by the other singers in that group. This call is then answered by the other two groups, often simultaneously and in a pleasing harmony.
The combination of independent drumming and the calling out by the vocalists creates a wonderfully primal feel, as if we are witnessing an important tribal assembly or ceremony. The singing and drumming are continuous, yet never become repetitive or tiring. The complete Great Learning is very long and only “Paragraph 2” was performed here. The strong drumming and use of megaphones for the vocals proved equal to the BP Hall acoustic distractions, and the performance carried to clearly the back of the space. This seemingly elementary and disorganized work, convincingly performed by the Southland Ensemble, carries a remarkable emotional punch; another example of the supremacy of the simple over the formal.
A little after 1:00 PM, pianist Vicki Ray performed a set of five pieces outdoors on the terrace, in the Keck Amphitheater. First was Improvisation and Fugue by Alfred Schnittke and this opened with dramatic and dissonant chords followed by trills and rapid runs of notes. Strong dynamic contrasts highlighted a dark and mysterious feel and the amplification system was effective getting the sound of the grand piano out into the audience. A few bars into the “Fugue” section, and just as a nice groove was developing, there was a sudden mechanical malfunction inside the piano. Ever the consummate professional, Ms. Ray calmly had the problem fixed and re-started the second section whose increasing complexity presently grew into a formidable technical challenge. There was no loss of precision or focus, however, and the piece ended quietly.
Majestic, composed by Wadada Leo Smith followed, and this began with a deep bass riff along with short, rapid passages in the middle registers that produced a grand feeling with just a hint of mystery. As this proceeded, an interesting back-and-forth between the lower register notes and strongly contending upper passages added a complimentary layer of artful intricacy. A few minutes into Majestic, the afternoon sun found a gap in the overhead tarps and was now shining directly into the eyes of Ms. Ray as she was reading the score from her iPad. Happily, this did not result in any noticeable reduction in the sharpness of her performance, which concluded uneventfully. Imprompu (À deux mains), by Mauricio Kagel was next and this featured quick spurts of notes followed by a slower and more deliberate sections. A similar theme was then repeated in the middle and lower registers and the piece oscillated between fast and playful and a slower, more dramatic phrasing.
A Cecil Taylor piano solo from Life as… followed, as transcribed and notated by Kaja Draksler. Who but Vicki Ray would even attempt to play such a thing? The piece was filled with a mind-boggling variety of grace notes, ornaments, styles and fragmentary quotes, all played at a furious pace. You could hear that Taylor’s improvisation was working off of phrases and riffs from the original accompaniment so that it constantly dipped and turned in unexpected directions. Absent its original context, the piece had a slightly choppy feel, but this was nevertheless a memorable performance. Who knew that eye and hand could be sufficiently agile to recreate such a masterful improvisation?
The set concluded with Ligeti’s Capriccio No. 2 and this was full of ups and downs, a pleasant lightness and lots of energy. With its active and playful feel along with a bright and engaging sensibility, this piece practically shouted ‘Capriccio’. With all that Ms. Ray had been through to this point, her playing did not disappoint.
Part II of this review will cover performances by Jacaranda Music, Joseph Pereira, Piano Spheres and Chris Kallmyer.
Please read Mark Swed’s fine review of Noon to Midnight in the LA Times for his excellent coverage of many of the pieces I was not able to hear.
On April 2, 2022 in Salmon Hall at Chapman University, Grammy Award-winning pianist Nadia Shpachenko was the guest artist for a recital of piano music that featured two world premieres. Recent pieces by contemporary composers Ian Dicke, Dana Kaufman, David Sanford, Adam Schoenberg, and Pamela Z were included, centering on a theme inspired by the game of soccer. The final work of the evening was Invasion, by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Lewis Spratlan, performed by an instrumental ensemble and composed in response to the horrific events unfolding in Ukraine, Ms. Shpachenko’s home country.
The first piece on the program was Telstar Loops for piano and electronics (2021), by Ian Dicke. The theme of the first half of the concert was the game of soccer and Telstar Loops drew inspiration from the shape of the Adidas Telstar soccer ball used in the 1970 World Cup. This ball is reminiscent of the shape of the old Telstar satellites that were used to relay television signals between continents. Telstar Loops proceeds in three movements and the first, “Tensegrity”, opens with strong three-note chords that are picked up by the electronics and looped. This produces an echo effect so that new chords work against the decaying sounds to create the spare, almost alien feel of a Telstar satellite in space. As the movement continues, rapid piano phrases appear and are looped, creating a complex, yet playful texture. The electronics and the piano worked well together, the live and looped sounds artfully filling the hall without causing confusion.
The second movement, “Satellite”, is more specifically descriptive of the actual Telstar spacecraft and the piano issued quietly solemn chords that, when looped, produce an open and somewhat lonely feel. As the rhythms picked up and began to flow, the intersection of the sounds in the hall produced a series of intriguing harmonies. Towards the finish, powerful piano chords boomed out creating a sense of grandeur, fitting for Telstar’s pioneering flight.
“Buckyball”, movement three, refers to the geometric shape of the Telstar soccer ball and its resemblance to the geodesic dome, created by Buckminster Fuller. The movement began with a complex melody that included trills and ornaments, all pleasantly multiplied by the looping electronics and amplification. The feeling was warm and inviting and towards the finish there were strong chords that added a bit of drama. The contrast of powerful, then soft chords was especially effective. Overall, Telstar Loops makes a strong musical connection between the Telstar satellite and its namesake soccer ball from 1971. The close integration of the electronics and piano artfully increase the intentions of the composer without distraction and the resulting realization by Ms. Shpachenko at the piano and Adam Borecki manning the electronics panel was impressive.
La Pulga Variations (2021) by David Sanford followed. This piece consists of seven short movements that are based on the relationships of various soccer personalities to Lionel Messi, the famous Argentine footballer. The solo piano movements varied from the majestic to the mysterious. Playful melodies were heard, as well as big, formal sounds and crashing chords, depending on the movement. La Pulga will probably be best enjoyed by those with a wide historical knowledge of international soccer. The styles and personalities of the various players – and even Messi’s mother Celia – permeate each of the movements. As La Pulga proceeds, the emotions from the piano run stronger and carry a sense of greatness, aided by Ms. Shpachenko who knows how to deliver a robust passage. The final movement “Magisterial” sums up the sense of respect Messi’s play has received over the years. La Pulga Variations is the heartfelt musical tribute of a soccer lover to Lionel Messi and his extraordinary professional career.
Balón (2021), a world premiere, by Pamela Z was next. It incorporates the solo piano as well as tape, voice and electronics. For this performance, the recorded voice of Pamela Z was heard through the sound system. Balón is inspired by the geometry present in the game of soccer, as Pamela Z writes: “I find numbers, patterns, and layers appealing, and I attempted, in this piece, to overlay the physical characteristics of the Telstar-style ball with the geometry of the passing patterns the players use to deftly work the ball toward the opposition’s goal.”
The opening of Balón is, in fact, a spoken description of the geometry in the soccer ball itself. Deep piano chords and lovely sustained vocals enter and soon the voice and piano phrases are intertwined to produce a complex, yet engaging texture. The vocals by Pamela Z were most effective and did not suffer from being recorded and projected through the sound system – she has a beautiful voice. Ms. Shpachenko played with precision and never seemed lost, despite the many moving parts and complicated structure. Balón has a warm and sunny feel that evokes pleasant memories of an afternoon spent watching soccer.
Next was Honeyball (2021) by Dana Kaufman, inspired by Nettie Honeyball who founded the first women’s soccer team in Great Britain in 1895. The piece is built around soccer match reviews of the team published at the time, reflecting a generally condescending point of view. The title of the first movement “An Ungraceful Jog Trot” is a direct quote from one of these reviews and these words are heard spoken over the sound system by Ms. Shpachenko. The music replies, absolutely seething with disdain. The piano is alternately playful and angry as the dynamics swing between softer and louder and the tempo, like blood pressure, rises and falls. The second movement, “Change is Slow”, is more dignified and reserved with a simple melody and sedate chords. The pitch set was ingeniously derived by the composer from the playing statistics of the US Women’s World Cup Final victory in 2019. This hymn-like tribute to the pioneering Ms. Honeyball is an effective contrast to the impassioned first movement.
“Coquetry and Cleats”, the final movement, seems poised to renew the fury of movement I. The words of a patronizing contemporary newspaper description of the uniforms worn by the women soccer players are again heard over the sound system. But instead of a caustic reply from the piano, Ms. Shpachenko quickly changes out of her แทงบอลออนไลน์ ไม่มีขั้นต่ํา shoes and puts on bright orange knee socks and cleats. Long white gloves complete this new look, just as the words “dainty white gloves” are heard over the speakers. Nadia then begins to tap out a rhythm with the spiked shoes as more recorded percussion is added through the sound system. The result is sarcastically farcical and constitutes a biting commentary on the lack of progress over the past 130 years for equity in women’s soccer. Honeyball is an inventive and highly accessible work that informs and entertains, even as it makes an important statement.
Last Dance for solo piano (2021) by Adam Schoenberg, completed the first part of the concert program. Schoenberg writes in the program notes: “Last Dance is a quasi neo-romantic work that is meant to capture the moments before someone’s final game. As a collegiate soccer player myself, I vividly remember my final game as a senior. In many ways, my entire college experience was built around the soccer team.” This is a quietly lyrical work that expresses nostalgia for the game and the comradeship it engenders. A light melody floats on top of sweet and inviting harmonies. The feeling in Last Dance is delicate and sweet, summoning the best memories of youth; the perfect way to end the first part of this concert program.
The final work on the program was Invasion (2022) by Lewis Spratlan, and this is a sharp departure from the music that had preceded. The lighthearted soccer theme of the first half was intended to stand alone and this concert was planned well before the appalling recent events in Ukraine. Ms. Shpachenko was born and raised in Kharkiv and has displaced family there, so the news from Ukraine was simply impossible to ignore. The commission for Invasion was completed by Spratlan in just three weeks, in time for its world premiere at this concert. After a short intermission to rearrange the stage, an ensemble consisting of piano, trombone, horn, alto saxophone, mandolin and percussion arrived, all led by conductor Anthony Parnther.
Invasion opens with a booming timpani followed by the horns and piano who combine in a menacing swell of sound. After a few introductory moments, a mandolin solo is briefly heard in a fragment of a Russian folk song, followed by the sounds of marching band music from the horns signaling the arrival of Russian forces. The powerful booming of the timpani returns, clearly announcing the invasion and shelling of the towns. The horns sound loud, angry notes and the piano is agitated and unsettled. The harsh sounds of battle continue and martial snare drum riffs are heard amid the syncopated and broken rhythms from the rest of the ensemble.
A Grand Pause suddenly stills the chaos for a moment and then a quiet melody starts in the piano, gradually turning anxious. The horn and trombone each enter with sustained, plaintive notes, soon picked up by the others in a crescendo that is both frightening and sorrowful. The furious battle sounds return, now with wildly independent lines in the horns; the intensity here is reminiscent of the first half of Henryk Górecki’s Trombone Concerto. The booming of the timpani and the general confusion continued to increase, even as the piece reached its uncertain conclusion. The playing and conducting were excellent given what must have been a difficult score and a short rehearsal time. Invasion is an evocative and powerful musical snapshot of the war in Ukraine. Perhaps this is the opening movement of a work that will ultimately give us a heroic and victorious final ending.
A concert that opens with a series of cheery soccer pieces and concludes with an account of unspeakable horrors is certainly incongruous. But perhaps it is an accurate reflection of our present time – we have gone from a fawning self-centered concern over the trivial to the shocking reality of the unspeakable. Given the uncertainty of the economy, the specter of a renewed pandemic and the lack of live performances these past two years, it is reassuring to know that a concert such as this can be presented at this moment with competence and grace.
Performers:
Anthony Parnther, conductor
Nadia Shpachenko, piano
Pat Posey, saxophone
Aija Mattson-Jovel, horn
Phil Keen, trombone
Yuri Inoo, percussion
Joti Rockwell, mandolin
Hans Abrahamsen
Schnee
Lapland Chamber Orchestra, John Storgårds, conductor
DaCapo
This is the second recording of Hans Abrahamsen’s Schnee (‘Snow,’ 2008), an hourlong imaginative ensemble work populated by idiosyncratic canons interspersed with intermezzos. The first, by Ensemble Recherche in 2015, was an excellent document of the piece. That said, this second interpretation is welcome, as it brings out different aspects of Schnee. Recherche’s recording is atmospheric and colorful, while Lapland Chamber Orchestra provides a rhythmically charged and dramatically intense rendition, in vivid sound with a wide dynamic range, and incisive delineation of canonic voices.
One needn’t adopt a programme for listening to Schnee, but the gestures in Canon 1A are suggestive: pitched percussion and keyboard as gentle snow falling, squalls of wind in the searing violin and clarinet lines. Another way in, one accentuated in Lapland’s recording, is the pervasive counterpoint in imaginative technical and instrumental combinations. Followed by a hushed sustain in Intermezzo 1, Canon 2B is a signature example of Abrahamsen’s writing at its most rigorous, with overlaps between strings and winds and emphatic keyboard glissandos creating a vigorous, linearly saturated ambience. Where the clarinet and piano led Canon 1, here the flute provides altissimo lines and flourishes that take center stage. The denouement of the movement resembles an ostinato by Stravinsky.
Schnee is abundantly varied. Each movement shifts both the canonic devices used and the way in which they are scored.Canon 3A presents slower moving lines, with glissandos punctuating brass iterations of the canon. As Schnee moves towards its conclusion, compression takes place and the last two sets of canons and intermezzos are miniatures in comparison to the previous sections. They may be compact, but the concluding portions are powerfully wrought, containing permutations of many of the previous lines and textures, but now overlaid and juxtaposed to create a potent summary.
Abrahamsen is one of our great living composers – he turns seventy this year. Schnee was a turning point piece for him, and it is good to hear it encompassing multiple performances that serve to develop its interpretative possibilities. Keeping with the wintry theme, Abrahamsen is now at work on his first opera, an adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Snow Queen.”
-Christian Carey