CD Review

CD Review, Choral Music, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, File Under?

Tyondai Braxton – Telekinesis (CD Review)

Tyondai Braxton

Telekinesis

Nonesuch/New Amsterdam

 

Telekinesis is Tyondai Braxton’s largest piece to date.  It is inspired in part by the Japanese manga classic Akira, the story of a young boy’s discovery of his telekinetic powers and the disaster that ensues. Commissioned by the Southbank Centre in London and Musica Nova Helsinki Festival, Telekinesis is scored for electric guitars, orchestra, choir, and electronics. It is the latter that Braxton has thus far been associated with, but Telekinesis includes large sections of notated music, blending with the electronics to make thickly layered amalgams. 

 

The performers on the Nonesuch/New Amsterdam recording are the Metropolis Ensemble, conducted by Andrew Cyr, the Brooklyn Youth Chorus conducted by Dianne Berkun Menaker, and The Crossing conducted by Donald Nally. The coordination between these various forces and the electronics is superb. I am reminded of a performance by The Crossing of James Dillon’s Nine Rivers, where the choir held its own against formidable acoustic and electronic elements and created powerful chords built from intricate harmonies. The same is true of the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, who are given challenging parts that bely their ages, yet turn in a superlative performance. The super-orchestra that is created by the various elements remains engaging throughout.

 

The piece is cast in four movements. “Overshare” begins with shimmering strings to which are added spooky synth arpeggiations and oscillating percussion. The way in which the ensemble is gradually incorporated to bolster the electronics sneaks up on you. Strummed harp imitates the rolled synth chords, brass adds to the vertical component, and insistent drumming provides forward momentum. Towards the end of the movement, disjunct melodies softly turn around sustained unisons with the harp and crescendoing brass filling out the frame. 

 

“Wavefolder” begins with insistent repeated tones in varying tempos, the electronics particularly pungent, brass building stalwart verticals and flutes imitating the soaring synth lines. Wordless choir joins the proceedings with sustained vowels. Dissonant strings and insistent synth lines compete with percussion for the foreground. The choir periodically adds wordless sustained chords. Flute solos imitate the lines from the first movement. There is a gradual denouement that imparts sounds of fetching delicacy. It ends with a surprising electronic punctuation.

 

“Floating Lake” starts hushed. A sudden interruption by the string figure and the “telekinetic” motive that appears in each movement muddy the waters only to have the music quickly return to placidity. This alternation reoccurs throughout the movement, the interruptions becoming longer and more emphatic. Phaser bleeps add a sci-fi cast to things. One senses that Akira is coming to a climax in this imaginary soundtrack. 

 

The final movement, “Overgrowth,” is an intense conclusion, employing every member of the forces in an ominous movement that presses forward with thrumming beats and dissonant verticals. The Crossing’s male singers respond in lower registers to the string chords and children’s choir. Bleak brass solos give the music a tragic cast. A new synth motive arrives about halfway through, providing a disjunct foil to the chords from the ensemble and choirs. Added to these are held bass notes and a martial pattern from the timpani. The synth theme is transferred to brass and low strings add another ostinato. The texture abruptly thins, and another wandering synth melody is presented. Soft brass chords are followed by a pause. Then pianissimo percussion leads the piece to its enigmatic conclusion.

 

An ambitious and imaginative piece, Telekinesis is Braxton at his best.

 

-Christian Carey

 

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Just Intonation, Microtonalism

Ben Johnston – Amazing Grace

Microfest Records has released Amazing Grace, a CD collection of three pieces by American composer Ben Johnston (1926-2019). The album features the Lyris Quartet and includes the title track, Amazing Grace (1973), Quartet #9 (1987) and Octet (1999). Kyle Gann, once a student of Ben Johnston, rightly states in his liner notes that: “Not all musicians realize it, but Ben Johnston, was a major figure in the Midwestern new music world in the 1970s and ‘80s, comparable to John Cage on the East Coast or Lou Harrison on the West. He looms even larger in the world of microtonal music, for his string quartets, sonatas for retuned keyboard, and other works are among the most compelling works ever written in alternate tunings.” The Lyris Quartet is one of the leading string quartets in Los Angeles and has performed a wide repertoire ranging from the classical to innovative contemporary music. Supporting musicians heard on Octet are also widely known in the Los Angeles new music scene.

Ben Johnston was one of the leading late 20th century exponents of alternate tuning, the use of pitches outside of the standard 12 tone equal temperament heard in almost all of our popular music. Johnston employs alternate tuning not for novelty, but rather to achieve better harmonic relationships within a piece and to avoid the compromises built into the standard 12 tone system. All of this has the effect of enriching the sound and increasing the welcoming quality of the music to the listener. A special notation scheme for the new pitches was devised by Johnston and the Lyris Quartet has adapted to this with great skill.

Amazing Grace, the first track of the album, is Johnston’s best known work as it is based on the popular hymn tune. Full disclosure: I can’t stand hearing Amazing Grace. Second only to our National Anthem, Amazing Grace is probably the most over-exposed and overwrought music in popular culture. For me it is like fingernails on a chalkboard. That said, Johnston’s treatment is a most welcome relief. The familiar hymn tune is heard at the opening, but propelled with an expressive and intriguing harmonization along with an active counterpoint in the lower registers. There is nothing alien or melodramatic about it; rather, there is a rural, Appalachian sound as befits humble folk music. The movement in the rhythm gives a feeling of motion and direction without obscuring the rustic origins of the original. The parts weave in and around each other with an intimate intricacy, all crisply played by the Lyris Quartet.

As Amazing Grace proceeds, a series of variations are heard, each with new pitches added to expand the harmonies. There is a slow, solemn stretch with a minor mode feel that soon speeds up and packs in a lot of notes from the four string players. A more melancholy section follows that features a beautiful violin solo. New complex and abstract harmonies are heard as the tempo increases and more pitches are added. The independent lines in each part remain busy as the high, thin hymn tune is heard floating above. The music then turns very abstract and is barely recognizable, filled lots of fast notes and rapid phrasing. The precision of the Lyris Quartet here is impressive, with a lovely sound and good balance. Ben Johnston’s Amazing Grace ultimately returns to the original hymn tune with a solid harmonization and pleasing counterpoint in a beautiful ending. The integrity of this old war horse has been fully reclaimed through Ben Johnston’s masterful realization.

Quartet #9, the second work on the album, has four contrasting movements, and these are typical of more traditional string quartet construction. This is the longest work in the album at a little over 20 minutes and emerges out of Johnston’s adroit combination of microtonality and conventional form. “I. Strong, calm, slow” is the first movement and opens with a series of sustained intermixing tones to create a radiant sound. The dynamics rise and fall making for a lovely introduction. The opening is followed by a quicker, more rhythmic section and a running melody in the middle register with counterpoint below. This leads into a series of strong, syncopated tutti chords filled with strange, yet engaging close harmonies. More variations follow with pizzicato rhythms and some nice fiddling is heard in all the parts. The final section of this movement ends a cloud of sound in brilliant colors that invoke a reflective, transcendental feeling.

The second movement, “II. Fast, elated”, requires only three and a half minutes but opens with a strong beat, rapid phrasing and independent lines. There is an active, willful feel to this and it makes for a fine contrast with the relative tranquility of the first movement. Elegant harmonies flow rapidly out to the listener in a constant stream. As this continues, an engaging texture evolves from the intricate relationship between the melody in the the lower middle register and the relentlessly pulsating sounds of the higher strings. The Lyris Quartet performs with admirable proficiency despite the quick tempo, unconventional meter and multiple key changes.

“III. Slow, expressive” is the title of the third movement and it is just that, opening with a gentle melody in lush harmony. A variation follows that is slightly faster and a melody that dominates in the violin with the accompanying counterpoint below. This sounds almost conventionally classical, but as Kyle Gann explains in the liner notes: “The normality is deceptive, however, the listener may not notice that the tonality smoothly modulates in Johnston’s notation, to the key of F- (21 cents flat, a cent being 1/100th of a half step), and later F– (43 cents flat) before returning to end in the original key.” All of this was seamlessly negotiated by the Lyris Quartet.

The final movement of Quartet #9 is “IV. Vigorous and defiant” and this begins with a strong opening in the lower strings. There are soon moving lines in every part, full of drama and power, yet solidly coherent overall. This is certainly vigorous – as advertised – and the fugal treatment in the first half adds additional interest. As the movement proceeds, the parts become more independent in bursts between the tutti phrases. Towards the finish, syncopation and increasing dynamics build to a fitting conclusion. For all of Johnston’s use of alternate tuning and technical innovation, Quartet #9 never loses touch with the listener and always pleasantly engages the ear.

Octet concludes the CD album and this was apparently Johnston’s last piece, written in 1999. This is the premiere recording of his final work. It is a series of seven variations on Ashokan Farewell by Jay Ungar, the signature tune of the Ken Burns documentary “The Civil War”. The Lyris Quartet is joined for this piece by Sara Andon on flute, James Sullivan, clarinet, Jon Stehney, bassoon and Scott Worthington on bass. The flute opens with the familiar, haunting melody in a quietly slow tempo, played with great expressiveness by Ms. Andon and accompanied by a soft strumming in the strings. The other woodwinds soon join in and the clarinet takes the melody. The flute plays a descant above with the bassoon in counterpoint below. Each of the lines move in and around each other, combining in an intriguing complexity. This ultimately resolves into the tune heard in a full and welcome harmony by the strings.
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The variations of Octet feature the various players in turn. A bassoon solo variation is very evocative as the feeling turns a bit darker than in the opening. This mood is picked up by the strings, and woodwinds. The lines diverge slightly and then intertwine in excellent counterpoint, especially in the bass. Another variation features the tutti ensemble in a just intonation harmony, with the flute leading the melody on top. Given the unusual harmony, there is a very different expressive feel, yet all is still recognizable. The ending arrives in a solid tutti chord to complete the piece. With Octet, as with Amazing Grace, Johnston takes a well-known and over-worked tune, breathing new life into it with masterfully crafted harmony, counterpoint and the judicious use of alternate tuning.

Ben Johnston’s infusion of alternate tuning into the rhythms, counterpoint and structure of his piece is always in service to the overall harmonic expression – it is never just flashy technique. With his innovative use of unconventional pitches and harmony, the works of Ben Johnston will stand as an important benchmark in the progress of new music.

Amazing Grace is available in CD form from Amazon Music and as a digital download from Presto Music.

The Lyris Quartet is:
Alyssa Park, violin
Shalini Vijayan, violin
Luke Maurer, viola
Timothy Loo, cello

Supporting musicians heard on Octet are:
Sara Andon, flute
James Sullivan, clarinet
John Stehney, bassoon
Scott Worthington, bass

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Nico Muhly – Alice Goodman – The Street (Favorites 2022)

Nico Muhly – Alice Goodman

The Street

Parker Ramsay, harp; Rosie Hilal, narration;

The Choir of King’s College, Cambridge, Daniel Hyde, Director of Music

King’s College, Cambridge, 2xCD

The Street, Nico Muhly’s first collaboration with Alice Goodman, a librettist best known for her work with John Adams, presents a modern retelling of the Stations of the Cross. The first CD sets the mood for the drama to come, with performances of the Bach C-minor Partita No. 2 and the instrumental version of The Street by harpist Parker Ramsay. Ramsay is a gifted performer – his recordings include a fluent rendition of the Goldberg Variations. His interpretation of the partita revels in glissandos and ornaments, both befitting the harp. The Sinfonia displays luxurious rubato, while the Allemande, Courante, and Rondeau jubilantly dance. The isolation of polyphony is particularly clear in the Sarabande, and the Capriccio provides a virtuosic conclusion.

Playing a solo harp version of The Street, Ramsey brings out the pathos of the Stations of the Cross in a supple emotive performance. On its own, the harp is compelling and communicative; even more so as part of the full version which follows. 

Goodman’s text moves between ancient and contemporary voices who describe the barbarity of Jesus’s tormentors and the varied responses of the crowd and his followers. I found this distillation of a ritualized text at the core of Lenten observances as part of a modern discourse to be affecting. It describes the capacity for good and evil that the everyday person, meaning all of us, wrestle with today. Rosie Hilal’s narration is exquisitely enunciated, providing each of the stations with its own narrative resonance. Muhly’s incorporation of chant melody, performed by the Choir of King’s College, directed by Daniel Hyde, supplies a liturgical anchor that complements the instrumental and recited portions of the piece. The choir provides its customary sonorous delivery, allowing the chant lines to breathe and take on a gradual portentousness. 

Muhly began his musical career as a chorister and his affinity for liturgical music is on display here, as is his expert writing for the harp. It is one of the composer’s most compelling works to date. 

-Christian Carey

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Piano

Philip Golub – Filters

On October 28, 2022, Greyfade released Filters, a debut album of solo piano music by Phillip Golub. Based in New York, Golub has been performing for decades in both classical and improvisational settings. In Filters he explores the intersection of musical repetition and improvisation. The album consists of four piano ‘loops’, each about 8 minutes long. Each loop is a series of repeating phrases that maximize expression by the performer while severely limiting harmonic and rhythmic changes. Careful listening allows discernment of the unique contributions of the performer without distraction. As Golub writes: “When we know the repetition is not mechanical, there’s a certain feeling of needing to stay very focused with the performer, to be there with them.”

How does this sound? The piano phrases are simple, consisting of a few notes and chords played at a moderately slow tempo. The phrasing seems halting, even syncopated at times, and are not constrained to a strict beat. The pitch set is limited with only a few changes as the sequences proceed. There is a generally reflective feeling in these loops, marked by an absence of technical flash or drama; a sort of unsettled rumination. The phrases are similar upon repetition, but never identical – always with the same interior feel, but never tedious. At first this seems to be a variety of classic minimalism, but the variations in the cells are more subtle. Steve Reich wrote that his minimalist phrasing was varied by adding or subtracting a note or two in the cells after a certain number of repetitions, allowing the overall pattern to dominate while introducing variations gradually.

Golub takes this one step further in that the variations are introduced by the performer in the playing and not by the composer in the scoring. There are small changes to the timing of the rhythms, a change of emphasis on the individual notes and very slight differences in tempo. All of this results in subtle alterations of the musical surface and micro-acoustic detail – in other words, the variations are all driven in the moment by the pianists ‘touch’. The loops presented in Filters are just eight minutes long, but they are meant to be played as long as desired. Each 8 minute loop in the album is an edited subset of a 45 minute recording and some of Golub’s live performances have extended for several hours.

More specifically, Golub writes: “Each loop on Filters contains two ‘streams’ of music. The outer stream consists of a single high note and a single low note on the piano, always struck together. The inner stream is a succession of simple major or minor triads — with an occasional suspended fourth or added seventh — that continually re-contextualize the color of the pitches of the outer stream. Something mysterious and magical happens here that is unique to the resonance, decay, and overtones on pianos. I think that this blending of the louder outer stream with the quieter and denser inner music is at the core of the effect.”

Each of the loops, while similar in construction, have their own distinctive emotional character. Loop 1 is typical with a quietly moderate tempo and repeating phrases. These are very similar, but are heard to be slightly different in each sounding. The small variations in the phrases are not obvious, but invite close attention so that the repeating sequences engage the listener and are never boring. There is a warmly introspective feeling that is also welcoming to the ear. Loop 3 is similar, having the same reflective feeling with perhaps a bit of optimism. Loop 4 has a more ambiguous feel; its character is full of uncertainty and questioning. The most contrasting track, Loop 5, is pitched in a somewhat higher register and includes enough dissonance to produce a sense of disquiet in the listener. A bit elliptical and mildly frustrating at times, Loop 5 a departure by being more anxious than introspective.

Filters is a cutting edge album that illustrates how the performer can exert the critical creative input from within the confines of a strictly minimalist framework. The subtle variations in the repeated cells of these loops arise in the moment from the inventive touch of the pianist and are not the result of formal structures. With Filters, Phillip Golub has restored creative primacy to the individual musician, even within the heart of a highly process-oriented music.

Filters is available directly from Greyfade.

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Choral Music, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Choral Arts Initiative – Jeffrey Derus – From Wilderness (CD Review)

Jeffrey Derus

From Wilderness – A Meditation on the Pacific Coast Trail

Choral Arts Initiative, Brandon Elliott, conductor; Kevin Mills, cello

Navona CD/DL

 

With From Wilderness, Jeffrey Derus has written a soaring and eclectic full length work for Choral Arts Initiative, an ensemble committed to new music with nearly twenty commissions and seventy premieres under their belts. Their previous recording, music of Dale Trumbore, supplied significant exposure for her laudable choral works. One imagines that From the Wilderness will do the same for Derus.

 

Derus has an intimate connection with the environs of the Pacific Coast Trail. He takes the listener on a musical journey that includes choral movements with cluster chord modal harmonies, meditative crystal singing bowl interludes associated with the chakras, solo turns as spirit animals by soprano Anna Kietzman, alto Genie Hossain, tenor Taylor Jacobs, baritone Kirk Averitt, and bass Timothy Cervenka, and powerful cello solos from Kevin Mills. Many composers juggling this many elements might make a less than compelling mashup of them. Derus instead highlights the pathway along his spiritual journey in a keen synthesis of these various elements. 

 

The composer doesn’t try to programmatically depict nature along the trail. His impressions and, more importantly, the cathartic response Derus has to journeying are the main topics of From Wilderness. The use of singing bowls is quite beautiful, creating clusters of harmony that presage the use of similar harmony in the voices. “Cajon Pass” is a case in point, with rich verticals and cascades of vocal overlap. Choral Arts Initiative performs with a powerful sound, strongly resonant from top to bottom. Mills plays a poignantly lyrical solo on “Sierras 1,” soon augmented by upper voices creating glinting shards of sound. There is then much interplay between cello and the upper and lower voices ricocheting back and forth. When all come together, with the cello playing in the altissimo register, it is a glorious sound. 

 

-Christian Carey



by Christian Carey
CD Review, File Under?, jazz

Kirk Knuffke Trio (CD Review)

Kirk Knuffke Trio

Gravity Without Airs

Kirk Knuffke, cornet; Matthew Shipp, piano; Michael Bisio, bass

Tao Forms

Cornetist Kirk Knuffke plays his instrument with equal versatility to the more common trumpet, presenting a wide range of compass, dynamics, and articulations that leave his work continually fascinating. On Gravity Without Airs, a title taken from Marcus Aurelius, he joins with pianist Matthew Shipp and bassist Michael Bisio. Many of the compositions on the recording are Knuffke. The other pieces are spontaneous improvisations. There is a permeability between composed and improvised selections. Knuffke brought the music to the recording date without sharing it with his collaborators first. Reading from the stand provided inspiration for the subsequent free play, making Gravity Without Airs of a piece. 

The title track is an odyssey that reveals the simpatico nature of the trio. Knuffke unthreads long phrases of melody. Partway through, this is replaced by shorter motives that Shipp responds to in counterpoint. Soon things get fiery and move uptempo, with Bisio pressing forward with a walking line. Shipp supplies cascading descending chord progressions to counterbalance Knuffke’s flights aloft. A syncopated repeated chord provides a little bit of space before the descending progression is resumed, this time with Knuffke following Shipp’s suit and changing the direction of his own lines downward. Ostinatos from Bisio and Shipp provide accompaniment to altissimo playing from Knuffke, closing out the piece far away from its beginning. 

Another piece on which they stretch out is “Birds of Passage.” It has a dramatic opening, with Bisio playing glissandos, Shipp dissonant chords that at times near clusters, and Knuffke wailing in his upper register. His facility with sixteenth notes is impressive and his soloing moves in different tempo relationships to Bisio and Shipp. All of a sudden, the storm subsides to a single repeated note from Shipp, who shortly begins to create a slow, single line solo over spacious voicings. Knuffke rejoins, channeling the early jazz tradition of the cornet with flourishes that eventually move back into greater angularity. Shipp continues to develop repeated note ideas while Bisio explores smaller ranges of sliding tones. The trio moves downward, Bisio inhabiting the bass’s low register, Shipp creating whorls of harmony, and Knuffke eventually responding with a mysterious, lyrical solo. The piece ends with an enigmatic twist.

“Sun is Always Shining” takes the trio into more hard bop terrain. Knuffke plays keening lines over fifths and octaves repeated by Bisio and fluid countermelodies; tangy harmonies, and oscillations in the bass register are contributed by Shipp. “Another River” moves the trio away from bop to free playing with incisive attacks and angular overblowing from Knuffke eliciting adventurous playing from his colleagues. The group excels at intensity, but their ballads are sumptuous too. The slow sustain of “Paint Pale Silver” provides a miniature utterance akin to the Wandelweiser group. 

Knuffke, Shipp, and Bisio know each others’ playing well, and it shows on Gravity Without Airs. That said, they demonstrate that they still share musical terrain to explore. Recommended.

-Christian Carey

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, Los Angeles

Jack Curtis Dubowsky – Bolsa Chica Calm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bolsa Chica Calm is available for download here.

by Paul Muller
CD Review, File Under?, jazz

Julia Hülsmann Quartet on ECM (CD Review)

Julia Hülsmann Quartet

The Next Door

Julia Hülsmann, piano; Uli Kemperdorff, tenor saxophone; Marc Muellbauer, double bass; Heinrich Köbberling, drums 

ECM Records

 

Since their 2019 debut recording, Not Far From Here, the Julia Hülsmann Quartet has spent a lot of time touring and gigging, refining their sound and improvisational aesthetic. The group’s latest recording, The Next Door, is primarily comprised of originals by quartet members, alongside a scintillating rock cover. The addition of tenor saxophonist Uli Kemperdorff to Hülsmann’s long standing trio with bassist Marc Muellbauer and drummer Heinrich Köbberling has been a winning choice. Kemperdorff’s florid runs contain a sunniness that buoys the musical atmosphere. Muellbauer often finds voicing for bass lines that eschew roots in favor of higher overtones, allowing his playing to blend with the chordal choices made by Hülsmann. Köbberling’s gifts are versatile. He knows when to press the players forward and instead to focus on fills and syncopation. 

 

The album opens with “Empty Hands,” in which polymetric chordal planing in the piano is abetted first by a bass solo and then doubled melody with Kemperdorff. Hülsmann then plays a solo with undulating twists and turns and a change of mode midway. Kemperdorff’s solo turn is also filled with arpeggiation at rapid speed. Köbberling begins to assert himself in the last few choruses of saxophone soloing, which is followed once again by a doubling of the head, a bit more ornamented and ended without a button (a welcome way and underutilized way to stop). 

 

“Made of Wood” is a standout track. Beginning with a saxophone solo, the head appears afterwards, once again doubled by saxophone and piano, a texture that the group takes as formative. Muellbauer and Köbberling work in an offsetted way against the melody instruments, finding holes for fills and bass riffs between phrase barriers. Hülsmann plays a lithe single-line solo which gradually is embellished with chromatic harmonies. Kemperdorff’s second solo turn is abbreviated in favor of a duet with Hülsmann. A brief denouement closes the tune.

 

“Wasp at the Window” features a multi-stop bass solo with percussive slaps to open. Kemperdorff then plays moto perpetuo scales that give us the dangerous little insect in motion. Hülsmann provides the wasp with a bit more of a swinging, jaunty swagger and the intricacies of the group’s rhythmic palette suggest the way the guest might nervously be perceived. It is a charming use of programmatic playing. “Jetz Nocht Nicht” is a set of imitative duets between saxophone and piano that could are an appealing but knotty musical puzzle. There is a reprise later in which the entire quartet gets to add their own strands to the counterpoint. 

 

Hülsmann contributes five compositions to The Next Door, and shares writing duties with other members of the quartet. “Lightcap” is by Köbberling, and is a reference to the bassist Chris Lightcap, with whom the drummer played in the nineties. Kemperdorff plays a rangy and fiery solo over wide spaced changes. Köbberling shifts the underlying pulsation several times, asserting himself in his own piece. The last section is a funky outro that, as before, avoids punctuation at its close. “Post Post Post,” the drummer’s other composition, has an ambling melody that appears in various incarnations throughout the group’s haunting improvisations.

 

Kemperdorff’s “Open Up” is a hard swinging tune with bent notes and a sturdy harmonic background that gives Hülsmann plenty of room for substitutions. The rhythm section revels in playing in this trad-mod context. Both saxophone and piano solos are expressive and virtuosic in technical demands. Octave lines shared between piano, saxophone, and bass open “Polychrome,” a Muellbauer composition, which are followed by a pensive piano interlude that takes as much from Webern as from post-bop. Kemperdorff plays with extended scales that encompass the fully chromatic in several different patternings. Muellbauer provides grounding to this fiendishly difficult progression. 

 

Hülsmann frequently uses water imagery, and “Fluid” takes the idea of a crescendoing arc, topped by waves of melody, as the formal design for this affecting ballad. When the pianist takes her solo, we move from the motile water music to equally lithe but swinging music for the quartet. Scalar passages bring back the sense of water’s flow, followed by cascading runs by Kemperdorff that also draw fluid to mind.” A final section of flowing arpeggios and muscular drums brings the piece to a close. Muellbauer makes a clever amalgam in the bossa nova “Valdemossa,” combining the traditional dance’s gestures with the chord progression from Chopin’s enigmatic Prelude in E-minor. The combination works beautifully, with Hülsmann leading in to her neoclassical side while Kemperdorff underscores tango rhythms in his solo turn. 

 

A pop cover is often found on Hülsmann’s recordings. Here it is Prince’s “Sometimes it Snows in April.” It first appeared on Under the Red Cherry Tree, and the song’s long intro and quirky harmonic shifts are reflected in the quartet’s faithful and affecting recording. The Next Door shows a group that has developed its sound exploring different musical pathways with authority. Recommended. 

 

-Christian Carey

 

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, File Under?

Christopher Trapani – Horizontal Drift (CD Review)

 

Christopher Trapani

Horizontal Drift

New Focus Records

 

Christopher Trapani’s latest portrait recording for New Focus features pieces for solo instruments, several with electronics. The composer’s work with microtones and hybrid tuning systems is spotlighted. Trapani has a compendious knowledge of microtonality, and he brings it to bear eloquently in the programmed pieces.

 

The album’s opener, Târgul, is written for vioara cu goarna, a Romanian variant on the stroh violin, a violin with an added horn to provide greater projection. It also can provide fascinating timbres, as Maximilian Haft’s performance illuminates. Dan Lippel plays the title track on quarter tone guitar, abetted by real time electronics edited by a Max patch. It is a standout piece, with sinuous passages of quarter tones and glissandos followed and morphed by electronics. The use of complex arpeggiations is riveting. 

 

Linear A is performed by clarinetist Amy Advocat. It uses still another tuning, the Bohlen-Pierce scale, which repeats at the twelfth instead of the octave. The electronics provide clarinet duets that make the already surreal environment of the scale enhanced by buzzing overtones. Lots of florid playing, which Advocat executes with aplomb. 

 

Lost Time Triptych is an amalgam of influences. Written as a companion piece for Gerard Grisey’s Vox Temporum, it has three detuned pitches that play a pivotal role in the music. Each of the Triptych’s movements is subtitled with a phrase from Bob Dylan. Marilyn Nonken plays the piece with detailed balancing of its intricate harmonies and supple dynamic shading. Forty-Nine, Forty-Nine is for a 31-tone equal tempered Fokker organ that is controlled by MIDI rather than an organist. With a feisty analog demeanor, 

 it is reminiscent of some of the electronic pieces from the Columbia-Princeton Center, 

 

The recording closes with Tessaræ, a piece written for the viola d’amore. This instrument has sympathetic strings, and Trapani deploys it to emulate folk music from Turkey and India that also has instruments with sympathetic strings. The viola d’amore’s capacities for harmonics and drones are set against a mournful mid-register melody. It is an affecting work that demonstrates Trapani’s capacity for emotional writing as well as technical innovation. Marco Fusi plays with a strongly delineated sense of the counterpoint employed in the piece.

 

Horizontal Drift is a compelling recording, demonstrating Trapani’s craft and imagination in equal abundance. Recommended. 


by Christian Carey
CD Review, File Under?, jazz

Tony Williams – Play or Die (CD Review)

Tony Williams

Play or Die

Tony Williams, drums, percussion, vocals; Tom Grant, keyboards, synthesizer;

Patrick O’Hearn, electric bass.

M.I.G. Music GMBH

 

Recorded in Stuttgart in 1980 and limited to 500 copies that weren’t widely distributed outside Germany, Play or Die, led by late drummer Tony Williams, is a unicorn record that is finally receiving a reissue. Joined by keyboardist Tom Grant and bassist Patrick O’Hearn, Williams leans in on one his most fusion focused recordings. Sharing the composition duties with O’Hearn, Play or Die includes two originals by the drummer, one by the bassist, and a “Jam Tune” credited to the trio. 

 

O’Hearn’s contribution, “The Big Man,” features a low-range and wide-ranging melody on the bass guitar, one that could well stand beside “Walking on the Moon” as a memorable bass hook. Meanwhile, Tom Grant supplies ska chord stabs and synth filigrees and Williams goes his own way, playing powerfully with myriad virtuoso fills.

 

Williams begins “Beach Ball Tango” with a roll-filled solo. When the others join, O’Hearn once again provides a tuneful melody, but it is Grant who leads the fray with a mono-synth line and rhythmically charged ornaments. Another solo from Williams frames the piece and is followed by a return of the head to close. 

 

 The jam tune is a workout over a funky groove that gives each musician a chance to spread out in their soloing. The now-vintage synths played by Grant timestamp Play or Die on the cusp of the 1980s. His soloing, too, reflects giants from that era, ranging from David Sancious to Herbie Hancock. The number of keyboards Grant must deploy in a single tune are reminiscent of the formidable racks one saw in front of Rick Wakeman, Patrick Moraz, and Geoff Downes in seventies prog settings. Doubling O’Hearn’s bass line in his left hand, Grant plays an energetic solo in his right. Williams is right there alongside them, propelling the activity energetically. 

 

“Para Oriente” is a syncopated mid-tempo tune with a bluesy cast and an interesting modulation in the bridge. Not to slight percussionists, but it is impressive how Williams combines bluesy progressions and prog harmonies into a single piece. O’Hearn takes a fleet-fingered solo followed by yet another section that introduces a new motif and heady solo from the keyboards. When the original material returns, the unorthodox development and reentry make it seem transformed. 

 

One doesn’t think of Williams as a singer, but his vocal turn on “There Comes a Time,” which is haloed by overdubbed vocals in the chorus, is lyrically soulful. The chord progression supplied by Grant and O’Hearn, over which Williams sings and plays, includes lots of substitutions that feel tangy against the vocal melody. 

 

Unicorn records always make one wish for more: another LP from the group, a longer life for Tony Williams. While those dreams are unachievable, we have Williams’s widow to thank for working with M.I.G. Music to reissue this extraordinary recording. Ready, just as in 1980, to blow  listeners’ minds.

 

-Christian Carey


by Christian Carey