Contemporary Classical

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

Skjálfti on Sono Luminus (Recording review)

Skjálfti 

Páll Ragnar Pálsson and Eðvarð Egilsson

Sono Luminus SLE-70031

 

Today, where the list of practitioners frequently overlap, how does film music translate to concert music adaptation? On the Sono Luminus release Skjálfti (translated: Quake), the Icelandic composers Páll Ragnar Pálsson and Eðvarð Egilsson present a compelling album length suite that is more ambitious than the clip show often heard on soundtrack recordings. 

 

The cello concerto Quake is Pálsson’s best known piece, but Skjálfti doesn’t feature music from it. Instead, it is from Tinna Hrafnsdóttir’s film of the same name, for which Pálsson and Egilsson composed the soundtrack. The album isn’t merely excerpts, but fully developed pieces based on the themes and mood of the film. Electronics, piano, strings, and subtle use of voices populate the music with a hybrid ensemble. It’s not dissimilar from the makeup of totalist ensembles such as Bang on a Can and Icebreaker, but the vibe is far more ambient than the prevailing one for these groups. 

 

“Saga” is one of the best movements of the work. It is like a mini-symphony, developing an ambitious amount of material in three minutes. “Safavél” and “Miklabraut” are other favorites, the former starting with a string and keyboard ostinato until, partway through, a pause, and then guitars and drums join. The accumulation of material and long crescendo is reminiscent of post-rock. Tortoise watch out. 

 

“Gleyma” is listed on the streamers as the hit tune. It begins with mysterious drones and pentatonic shimmering, to which is added an undulating guitar pattern, pattering percussion, and string synth pads. Ostinatos are a time-honored tradition, but they get bogged down in lots of film scores. Pálsson and Egilsson avoid this by creating asymmetric shifts in the texture. Here, a melody and counter melody wend their way around the chord progression in a pleasingly asymmetric fashion.

 

Skjálfti is an intriguing and enjoyable project: one hopes for further collaborations by the duo, both for film and concert music adaptation. 

 

-Christian Carey

 

BAM, Classical Music, Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, New York, Opera, Strings, viola, Violin, Vocals

“Angel Island” by Huang Ruo at the Prototype Festival

Prototype: “Angel Island” photo credit: Maria Baranova

The special sauce that has made Prototype, the annual opera/theater festival, a success for over a decade is a straightforward formula: socially relevant, edgy vocal works that are high on drama. Angel Island, a theatrical work with music by Huang Ruo, fits that description.

The speck of land in the middle of San Francisco Bay known as Angel Island served as an immigration port in the first half of the 20th century

. Hundreds of thousands of hopeful migrants from Asia were interrogated and detained, some of them for years, in the decades from 1910 to 1940. It’s not a great leap of imagination to relate today to this story of migration, discrimination, prejudice and downright hatred of certain citizens from abroad.

These immigrants came here of their own volition, but did they have any idea of the strife that awaited them as they stepped off the boat? Like so many Americans whose families came from abroad over the past four centuries, they were only looking for a better life. The promise of streets paved with gold (especially after word of the 1849 Gold Rush spread) was tantalizing.

The Chinese-American violist Charlton Lee, a member of the Del Sol Quartet suggested the story to the Chinese-born composer Huang Ruo. In a New York Times article, Lee said that many people “don’t know about the plight of these immigrants who were trying to come here, start a new life and were just stuck.”

The work is in eight movements, alternating between narration and singing. The text for the sung portions were taken from some of the 200 poems that were found in the barracks on Angel Island, etched into the walls by the detainees. Each narrated section consisted of text taken directly from news accounts and other historical texts, depicting the Chinese Massacre of 1871, The Page Act of 1875 (legislation denying Chinese women entry to the United States), and the story of the lone Chinese survivor of the Titanic.

The Del Sol Quartet performed the score on stage, along with members of the Choir of Trinity Wall Street whose acting talents were employed throughout the performance. The instrumental parts were often intensely rhythmic and emphatic chords, which were dramatic but sometimes monotonous. There wasn’t much in the way of melody for the instrumentalists or the singers, but the harmonies were lushly gorgeous and beautifully sung, belying the darkness and trauma of the texts. Bill Morrison’s film, often with images of the ocean, was mesmerizing, especially when the choir huddled together and swayed as if on an undulating boat at sea.

Prototype: "Angel Island" photo credit: Maria Baranova
Prototype: “Angel Island” photo credit: Maria Baranova

In general, each element of the production on its own wasn’t exciting — but when combined, the hypnotic film, the adagio movements of the singers clustered on stage as directed by Matthew Ozawa, and the rather minimalist music — all worked together to be incredibly effective. This is a work much greater than the sum of its parts. Dramatic peaks, such as sequences with two solo dancers, and the insistent sounding of a gong throughout the final movement were that much more compelling in contrast.

Angel Island brings attention to a story of United States immigration that is much less familiar than the Statue of Liberty-adjacent Ellis Island.

The New York premiere of Angel Island was performed at the Harvey Theater at BAM Strong on January 11-13, 2024 (I attended on January 12).  It was produced by Beth Morrison Projects in association with Brooklyn Academy of Music.

Contemporary Classical

Music and openness: Schell’s picks for 2022–23

As the pandemic recedes in our rearview mirrors, the flow of new albums of radical music has returned to its pre-COVID level, as has the year-end ritual of Best of lists from critics and other interested parties. Indeed, it’s that post-lockdown deluge of recorded activity, along with the resumption of live musicmaking, that saturated my inbox to the point that I’m combining two years of critical listening and Flotation Device curation into this one article, which endeavors to summarize where Western art music stands today as an integral, global practice that comprises improvised, composed and fixed-media music.

Transcultural exemplars

  • Heiner Goebbels: A House of Call – My Imaginary Notebook (ECM)
    One of the most remarkable items to cross my desk lately is Heiner Goebbels’ latest full-length orchestral project. Starting with a longstanding penchant for juxtaposing dissimilar kinds of music, then borrowing a technique from Gavin Bryars, Goebbels has assembled an anthology of recorded voices culled from old archival phonographs, tasking the live musicians with accompanying them in unexpected ways. Some of the vocal sources seem innocuous enough, like a classical Persian singer delivering a text by Rumi, or Heiner Müller riffing on the text Stein Schere Papier (“rock, paper, scissors”). Others are more ominous, such as a Georgian solder recorded in a German POW camp during WW1. In one movement a Namibian native is accompanied by fractured big band music that suggests a Trinidad night club, which seems innocent enough until you learn that the source recording was made at a German-owned cattle ranch in southwest Africa at the height of the colonial era. Although Goebbels hints at his ideological stance in the title for this section, Wax and Violence, he nevertheless presents his material dispassionately. What’s conveyed here, and throughout the album, is a disorienting ambivalence—perhaps a nostalgia for lost voices and myths, but also a reminder of the tenuous cohesion of human memory, and how deeper meanings often lurk beneath the surface of things.

    Heiner Goebbels by Wonge Bergmann

    At a time when many artists seem intent on bludgeoning audiences with political messages, Goebbels leaves it to us to contemplate the unpredictable and sometimes tragic impacts of new technology and the abutment of cultures, demonstrating that music often communicates more profoundly when things are left ambiguous.

  • Eunho Chang: Sensational Bliss (Kairos)
    A different kind of cultural abutment occurs in a breakthrough album from Eunho Chang which comprises 20 short pieces scored for a combination of Korean and Western instruments and voices, with stylistic inputs ranging from Korean pansori to German lieder and Darmstadt-era post-serialism. In one vignette, Donna Summer and Pierre Boulez appear to be conversing in heaven, a cross-cultural 21st century Pierrot Lunaire from this young and uninhibited South Korean composer.

Big thinking

One of the dominant styles of contemporary orchestral music nowadays is the static, colorful, drone-and-cluster variety that’s closely associated with Scandinavian composers, especially Icelandic ones like Anna Thorvaldsdottir, whose Archora, Aiōn and Catamorphosis were all featured on Flotation Device in 2023. For this list, however, I’m going with three different works in this vein, one of them from an unexpected source.

  • Jóhann Jóhannsson: A Prayer to the Dynamo (Deutsche Grammophon)
    The late Icelandic composer, best known for his film scores (including The Theory of Everything) is represented in this posthumous release from Daníel Bjarnason and the Iceland Symphony Orchestra whose centerpiece was inspired by (and incorporates field recordings gathered by the composer from) a hydroelectric plant in his home country. It combines the now-classic Thorvaldsdottir-esque style with influences from John Luther Adams and Takemitsu’s late orchestral works, building enormous orchestral swells from a slowly ascending bassline.
  • Žibuoklė Martinaitytė by Tomas Terekas

    Žibuoklė Martinaitytė: Hadal Zone (Cantaloupe)
    Although she originates from Lithuania, Martinaitytė eschewes the spiritual minimalism pursued by most Baltic composers in favor of what she calls acoustic hedonism, which embraces the sensuality of Nordic composers like Anna, Jóhann and Anders Hillborg while retaining fidelity to the great sonorist works of György Ligeti, in particular Lontano (1967), which uses diatonic clusters and micropolyphony. Hadal Zone depicts the darkest depths of the ocean using a bottom-heavy ensemble (bass clarinet, tuba, cello, double bass and piano) plus sampled voices and instrumental sounds.

  • Liza Lim: Annunciation Triptych (Kairos)
    One composer not typically associated with the Nordic style is the Southern Hemisphere-dwelling Liza Lim, who built her reputation on rhythmically-complex post-serial works for mixed chamber ensemble (including 1993’s The Oresteia). Yet her Annunciation Triptych—three ambitious orchestral works each inspired by a prominent female historical or mythical figure—shows her diving into the world of sound surface composition. The Sappho/Bioluminescence movement, for example, inspired by the lyric poetry of Sappho of Lesbos, explores the essence of “physical flesh as enlightenment, erotic trance [and] hallucination” (or in more modern terms “phosphorescent plants and genetically engineered creatures glow[ing] in the dark”) and incorporates spectralist elements, including natural harmonics that occasionally clash with equal tempered tones, before ending with a B♭ major chord.

Improv from Braxton and Zappa outward

  • Anthony Braxton and Brandon Seabrook meet at a truck stop

    Ghost Trance Septet plays Anthony Braxton (El Negocito)
    Anthony Braxton might be the most influential American composer alive today who’s not a minimalist, with over half a century at the forefront of applying highly-structured compositional techniques of a sort associated with the likes of Carter, Stockhausen and the spectralists to the world of improvised music. His relentless Ghost Trance Music, tackled here by an elite group of Belgian and Danish musicians, is inspired by the nonstop, stupor-inducing music associated with the Ghost Dance religion, a Native American revivalist movement founded in 1889 by the Northern Paiute shaman Wovoka that quickly spread among Plains and Great Basin tribes, much to the consternation of the US Government. Braxton’s Composition No. 255 consists of 56 sheets of musical instructions for guided improvisation, centered on a tune made up of short, separated notes broken up by triplets that recurs in various guises throughout the 23-minute performance, suggesting the experience of an outdoor ceremony that might go on for hours or days.

  • Kate Gentile: Find Letter X (Pi)
  • Kate Gentile with International Contemporary Ensemble: b i o m e i.i (Obliquity)
  • Matt Mitchell: Oblong Aplomb (Out of Your Head)
  • Brandon Seabrook’s Epic Proportions: brutalovechamp (Pyroclastic)
    Drummer Kate Gentile and keyboardist Matt Mitchell (who collaborated on the massive 6-CD box set Snark Horse, one of my picks for 2021) are among the most prominent younger musicians to follow in Braxton’s footsteps. Their stunning mix of cultivated and vernacular elements, driven by Braxtonian off-kilter rhythms, and such techniques as deriving chords from saxophone multiphonics and rhythms from Carteresque metric modulations (both employed in the subsurface track from Find Letter X) are well represented in their three newest albums. Brandon Seabrook likewise comes from the Braxton lineage, but with a generous dose of Zappa-esque nonchalance thrown in. His brutalovechamp album, named for a late beloved dog, features Seabrook on guitar, banjo and mandolin, traversing a Disney cartoon-ride array of unpredictably-juxtaposed bluegrass, rock and free jazz milieux in the company of his electroacoustic octet Epic Proportions.
  • Zappa/Erie (Zappa Records)
    Speaking of Zappa, one of the most interesting items to emerge from his archives in recent years is Zappa/Erie. Drawn from live recordings by his mid-70s touring bands, it’s notable for the presence of Lady Bianca, the only prominent female singer to tour with Zappa. Listen to her improvised solo in the two-chord downtempo vehicle Black Napkins (heard at 1:30:44 in Flotation Device‘s 2023 Mother’s Day Zappathon, linked below), and consider how her gospel-informed voice helps to mitigate the impact of Zappa’s snarky and often puerile lyrics.

  • Live Forever, Vol. 2: Horvitz, Morris, Previte Trio: NYC, Leverkusen 1988​–​1989 (Other Room)
  • Scott Fields Ensemble: Sand (Relative Pitch)
    Butch Morris, Bobby Previte, Wayne Horvitz by Keri Peckett

    Another key figure in shaping the landscape of the contemporary free improvisation movement is Butch Morris (1947–2013), a lynchpin of the Downtown New York scene who helped to bridge the African-American tradition of free jazz with the predominately white world of avant-rock. He also developed the conduction technique that’s been adapted by younger musicians like Wayne Horvitz in their guided group improvisations. Horvitz is featured alongside Morris and drummer Bobby Previte in a remarkable new archival album that documents their trio performances in New York and Germany during the late 1980s. Scott Fields recalls Morris in the group improvisations of Sand, recorded in Cologne in 2022 and featuring a large group of vocalists and instrumentalists who extemporize from melodies, texts and other raw materials provided by Fields.

  • Keith Jarrett: Bordeaux Concert (ECM)
    Keith Jarrett enters our spotlight through a new release documenting a 2016 live performance in Bordeaux, France, recorded just two years before a pair of strokes left him without the full use of his hands. Although Jarrett largely abandoned his avant-garde sensibilities after 1973 in favor of the gospel-inflected style that drove his lucrative solo career, the improvisations captured here reveal how he often returned to modernism in his later years. Part V is a good example of Jarrett’s discursive atonal playing that’s still characteristically lyrical.
  • Sergio Armaroli, Veli Kujala, Harri Sjöström, Giancarlo Schiaffini: Windows & Mirrors, Milano Dialogues (Leo)
  • Jeb Bishop, Tim Daisy, Mark Feldman: Begin, Again (Relay)
  • Grdina | Maneri | Lillinger: Live at the Armoury (Clean Feed)
  • Craig Taborn, Mat Maneri, Joëlle Léandre: hEARoes (RogueArt)
    Among the more interesting new specimens of European free improv is an offering from a quartet of Italian and Finnish musicians featuring the unusual instrumentation of saxophone, trombone, accordion and vibraphone. Another atypical combination that eschews bass and electronics is made up of Chicagoans Jeb Bishop (trombone), Tim Daisy (drums) and Mark Feldman, who might be the most interesting improvising violinist since Leroy Jenkins. Mat Maneri began his career as a violinist, but switched to viola in his 30s, becoming (with Ig Henneman), one of the world’s leading exponents of that underappreciated instrument as an improvisational vehicle. In Live at the Armoury, Maneri collaborates with drummer Christian Lillinger and the intriguing Vancouver-based guitarist and oud player Gordon Grdina. hEARoes features Maneri in a trio with bassist Joëlle Léandre and Craig Taborn, whose playing combines the lyricism of Jarrett with the jagged rhythms of Cecil Taylor, suggesting a promising way forward for lyrical on-the-keys solo piano improvisations now that the careers of both those masters have reached their endpoint.

(North) American masters

  • Meredith Monk: The Recordings (ECM)
    There’s nothing new to hear in this bundling of all twelve of Monk’s releases on ECM, cherishingly produced for her 80th birthday in November 2022. But a bevy of new articles, archival photos and other accoutrements shed new light on her development between her 1980 breakthrough album Dolman Music and 2016’s On Behalf of Nature, helping to illuminate Monk’s impact on both musical minimalism and new music theater.
  • Steve Reich: Reich/Richter (Nonesuch)
    Reich’s recent works represent something of a throwback to the mid-70s heyday of classic minimalism, deploying large ensembles in service to the familiar spinning of rhythmic patterns that underpin simple modal melodies. Reich/Richter, created for an abstract film by Gerhard Richter, is the most accomplished of the lot, making its two predecessors Music for Ensemble and Orchestra and Runner—also recorded for the first time in 2022—seem diluted in comparison.
  • Terry Riley: IN C Irish (Louth Contemporary Music Society)
    If Reich is the most respected classic minimalist among his peers, Riley was the one who got there first. This new 50-minute traversal of the most landmarky of all minimalist landmarks features Irish folk musicians playing an array of flutes, bagpipes, fiddles and other traditional instruments, the performance culminating in a lively reel.
  • Frederic Rzewski: No Place to Go but Around (Cantaloupe)
    Rzewski fans have long clamored for a modern digital recording of No Place to Go but Around, his 1974 piano variations on an original bluesy theme that ended up being a study piece for his massive The People United Will Never Be Defeated!. Rzewski himself recorded the piece on a scarce, out-of-print Finnadar LP. And Bang on a Can veteran Lisa Moore has now brought it into the 21st century, replete with an obligatory mid-piece improvisation on the Italian labor anthem Bandiera Rossa.
  • Robert Black plays John Luther Adams: Darkness and Scattered Light (Cold Blue)
    Moore’s fellow Bang on a Can veteran Robert Black recounts John Luther Adams’ haunting and delicate music for solo and multitracked double bass. It’s one of Black’s final recordings, and an apt memorial to his advocacy for new music, as well as his agile technique and flawless intonation.
  • Carlos Chávez: The Four Suns/Selections from Pirámide (reissued in Carlos Chávez Complete Columbia Album Collection)
    My favorite reissue of the year comes from the vaults of Columbia Records, which has—finally!—begun offering digital editions of its essential but long out-of-print experimental music recordings from the 60s and 70s. Harry Partch, Steve Reich and Pauline Oliveros are a few of the radical musicians who first reached a wider audience through Columbia Masterworks and its Odyssey subsidiary. Another was Carlos Chávez, once the dominant voice in Mexican art music, but now consigned to obscurity, his mostly neoclassical compositions languishing in the shadows of giants like Stravinsky and Copland. The ballet score Pirámide is a remarkable outlier though—evoking the specter of a now-lost Mesoamerican ritual heritage using acrid orchestral writing combined with choral exclamations that resemble Māori haka songs more than conventional singing. It’s amazing to hear these sounds once again in high-quality digital audio.

Eurasian masters

  • Iannis Xenakis: Electroacoustic works (Karlrecords)
  • Xenakis révolution: Le bâtisseur du son (ARTE France)
    Two noteworthy projects to come out of the 2022 Xenakis centenary celebrations are Karlrecords’ new digital edition (with enhanced bass) of Xenakis’ collected electroacoustic works (including 1962’s Bohor, considered a precursor to contemporary noise and dark ambient music), and Stéphane Ghez’s documentary film Xenakis revolution: The architect of sound, which features archival and home movie footage of the composer tied together by reflections from his daughter Mâkhi. Among the interesting topics are Xenakis’ emotional attachment to Corsica, whose rocky coast reminded him of Greece, from which he was exiled for nearly three decades. “I imagine him here [in Corsica], when I listen to his music” says Mâkhi, who also recounts how his early sonorist masterworks were influenced by the sounds of World War II. The film intercuts footage from the British occupation of Greece—street demonstrations, gunfire, and tracer ammunition lighting up the sky—with excerpts from his percussion sextet Pléïades (performed by Le Collectif Xenakis). Later, cluster and density pieces like Pithopratka (1956) are intercut with the sound of raindrops and images of undulating clouds of fish and flying birds. Pascal Dusapin recalls how Xenakis told him he was constantly endeavoring to recreate the sound he heard when he was hit in the face by shrapnel from a British tank (which cost him an eye and left him disfigured). “His message was: music does not always come from music.”

    Mâkhi opens her father’s notebook from his lessons with Messiaen, begun in December 1951, revealing that his notes were taken in French, not Greek. In another sequence, a tour of the chapel in the Couvent Sainte Marie de la Tourette, which Xenakis helped Le Corbusier design, illustrates the connection between modern architecture and music. The chapel’s natural lighting is designed as a series of “cannons of light” providing just enough illumination to support essential functions (“la louange et la prière” as the interviewed Dominican priest puts it). An animation superposes a graphic representation of the string glissandos of Metastasis over the unconventional angles of the chapel’s windows. And another sequence features Jean-Michel Jarre reflecting on the 1972 premiere of Polytope de Cluny at an old Roman bath in Paris. A groundbreaking sound and light show, including early lasers, it anticipated the elaborate multimedia spectacles we’ve since become accustomed to. “Today’s DJs are all great-grandchildren of Xenakis, without knowing it.” In all, the film makes a worthy and visually pleasing introduction to one of modern music’s most unique figures.
  • György Kurtág: Rückblick (Altes und Neues für 4 Spieler – Hommage à Stockhausen) (musikFabrik)
    This new, valedictory work by Hungary’s leading composer often reminds us of the epigrammatic Kurtág we all know and love, but it also sometimes sounds like Scriabin, late Stravinsky, Ustvolskaya, or even Ravel—as befits an hour-long work whose title means Review, “old and new”.
  • Salvatore Sciarrino: Chamber Music (Brilliant Classics)
    György Kurtág by Lenke Szilágyi

    Two premiere recordings of attractive works by Italy’s most important living composer.

  • musica viva #40 – Wolfgang Rihm: Jagden und Formen (BR Klassik)
    Rihm, along with Helmut Lachenmann, is one of the two great elder figures in contemporary German composition. Yet I’ve often had trouble with his awkward instrumental writing and his frequently clotted textures. Jagden und Formen (“hunts and forms”) in its revised 2008 version, here given its premiere recording by the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, is a breath of fresh air, with lively rhythms and unusually clear and colorful orchestration. It’s also a good representative of his chased form approach, wherein musical sections succeed each other in an unpredictable way, rather like an exquisite corpse.
  • Otto Sidharta: Kajang (Sub Rosa)
    A worthy anthology of recent fixed-media pieces by Indonesia’s leading exponent of electroacoustic music. The title piece is reminiscent of much of today’s dark ambient music, but the changes from section to section happen more quickly. Sidharta has collected field recordings all over Indonesia, and the sounds in Kajang often suggest a rainforest or an insect chorus.
  • Bernd Alois Zimmermann: Recomposed (Wergo)
    This new three-CD set features mostly early, mostly unrecorded works—-including orchestrations of piece by Casella, Milhaud and Villa-Lobos—by the late 20th century’s most tormented composer. Most of the selections are fun but trivial compared to Zimmermann’s most substantial works. But the final track, a recording of his valedictory composition Stille und Umkehr, is as gripping as any I’ve heard of this neglected masterpiece.

New and discovered

  • Tyondai Braxton by Dustin Condren

    Tyondai Braxton: Telekinesis (Nonesuch, New Amsterdam)
    Once upon a time there were acoustic instruments, and then in the 1980s sampling synthesizers came along and eventually imitated the sound of acoustic instruments well enough to replace them in many commercial applications. Professionals could still tell the difference though, and this new project from Tyondai Braxton (son of Anthony) seems to suggest that we’ve come full circle wherein elaborate section-by-section studio recording techniques can be used to get acoustic instruments to sound like samplers imitating the sound of acoustic instruments! The result is an interesting aural tapestry that’s not quite natural, not quite artificial—possessing something of a Frankensteinian vibe. Fittingly it was inspired by a story from the manga series Akira, where a boy gains the ability to move objects telepathically, but is unable to control his power, so that it eventually destroys him, hence the title Telekinesis.

  • Yikii: The Crow-Cyan Lake (Unseelie)
  • Yikii: Black Hole Ringdown (Bandcamp)
    A more playful approach to skirting the threshold between authenticity and artifice is explored by vocalist and electronic musician Yikii, who hails from the Manchurian city of Changchun. These quirky fixed-media pieces—featuring her girlish voice accompanied by a brash machine orchestra capable of strange, abrupt transitions—sound like a cross between Björk and The Residents, but in Chinese.
  • Wet Ink Ensemble: Missing Scenes (Carrier)
    Yikii via the artist

    Moving in a more rarefied direction is this release from one of America’s most formidable composer-led ensembles, featuring works from three of its co-founders: Alex Mincek, Sam Pluta and Kate Soper, known for her literary-themed works that combine continuous music with texts delivered by Soper through a combination of singing and recitation—a technique that has a spotty history in Western art music (viz., Stravinsky’s oft-maligned Perséphone), but one that Soper usually manages to pull off. Her best known work is an evening-length piece called Ipsa Dixit, which Seattle Modern Orchestra recently presented with Maria Männistö handling the solo part, demonstrating that it’s possible to perform Soper’s music even if you’re not Kate Soper. Featured in Missing Scenes is Soper’s new commentary on Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale.

  • Heinz Winbeck: Aus der Enge in die Weite (Genuin)
    German composer Heinz Winbeck (1946–2019) is little known in North America. But these premiere recordings of his string quartets reveal his music to be an attractive mix of German modernism and American minimalism that’s deserving of more attention.
  • Cergio Prudencio: Works for Piano (Kairos)
    Bolivia’s foremost living composer is well represented by the sparse, enchanting piano works receiving their premiere recordings in this album.
  • Visions of Darkness in Iranian contemporary music Volume II (Unexplained Sounds)
  • Anthology of Contemporary Music from South Africa (Unexplained Sounds)
  • Anthology of Experimental Music from Latin America (Unexplained Sounds)
    Unexplained Sounds Group continues to plumb the underexposed corners of the world with a new batch of regional anthologies—good places to harvest gems borne of the coupling of cheap laptops with unique perspectives, a testament to depth and global reach of today’s experimental electronic music culture.

Drones and darkness

When hundreds of new albums cross your desk every year, sorting them by style and genre can identify what kinds of music have been deemed “easy” to produce. Postminimalist, drone and slow-changing electronic musics have long topped that list in our domain. But below are some practitioners whose longevity and/or invention sets them apart from an ever-growing pack.

  • Phill Niblock via Festival Mixtur Barcelona

    Élaine Radigue: Occam Delta XV (Collection QB)

  • Phill Niblock: Working Touch (Touch)
    Two of the OGs of drone minimalism, both of them still creating in their 90s, are represented in new releases. Radigue is renowned for her epic fixed-media works dating from the 1970s through 90s, and constructed from complex, gradually-transforming drones created using an Arp 2500 synthesizer. When digital synths took over the electronic music scene at the turn of the 21st century, Radigue found them poorly suited for creating the sonorities she favored. So she began composing for acoustic instruments instead, working directly with performers by rote or through written instructions, instead of through conventional notation. Montreal’s Bozzini Quartet recently recorded two versions of one such work, Occam Delta XV, wherein Radigue allows herself a distended exploration of such quaint things as open fifths and major triads. As for Niblock, long a lynchpin of the Downtown New York experimental scene, a new album from the Touch label features one of his favorite multichannel, microtonal, monotimbral creations: Vlada BC for overdubbed viola d’amores.
  • Sarah Davachi: In Concert & In Residence (Late Music)
    Davachi is one of the leaders of the young generation of drone minimalists, and the range and nuance of her work is showcased by this new compilation album. Stile Vuoto is interesting for its combination of string trio and pipe organ, with the heterostatic, artifact-laden long tones of the bowed strings complementing the steady-state drones of the organ. Lower Visions features Davachi herself traversing its material in four different ways with four slightly different instruments ranging from a Hammond B3 to an E-mu modular synth.
  • Sarah Davachi at Western Front, Vancouver

    Norm Chambers: Seaside Variations and Ajax Ensemble (Panabrite)
    Chambers (1972–2022) was one of the leading figures in the Northwest’s busy electronic music scene before his premature death from sinus cancer. He left a pair of albums in flight at his death that have now been assembled and published by Panabrite. Together they offer a bittersweet glimpse at his rhythmically lively transmissions from across the ether.

  • Marc Barreca: Recordings of Failing Light (Palace of Lights)
    New fixed-media works from the Pacific Northwest’s foremost practitioner of dark ambient music.
  • Evgueni Galperine: Theory of Becoming (ECM)
    Moving halfway from dark ambient back toward the classic montage style of Varèse and Stockhausen, this collection of short pieces demonstrates the “augmented reality of acoustic instruments”, constructed by this Soviet-born, French-resident musician using electronically-processed instrumental recordings.

In print

  • Tom Perchard, Stephen Graham, Tim Rutherford-Johnson and Holly Rogers: Twentieth-Century Music in the West: An Introduction (Cambridge University Press)
    The most notable book on contemporary music to come along this decade is also the first that claims to cover 20th century Western art and popular music in a single volume. Rutherford-Johnson is familiar to new musicians through his Music after the Fall: Modern Composition and Culture since 1989. His new collaborative effort is an informative read, but like any survey of its kind it’s vulnerable to sniping over what it omits or neglects. A more serious objection is that it’s not so much a comprehensive history of music as it is a survey of postmodern music criticism (and media theory), whose copious in-line citations are as likely to refer to academics as actual musicians. Still, it’s a good first step in a worthwhile direction, managing to avoid the patronizing excesses of much current academic writing.

Opera on the screen

The return of new music theater to live stages means that it has also returned to the cinematic realm, both on the Web and through such undertakings as Metropolitan Opera’s Live in HD, which rates special attention as a truly luxurious way to watch traditional opera: in a high-end multiplex with reclining seats, cupholders and (judging from my recent experiences at least) a largely empty theater as well. This latter point is a shame since the multi-miked Live in HD sound is notably better than you’d experience almost anywhere in the audience at the real Met. Plus, the multiple camera angles give you both long shots of the scenery and close-ups of the performers. With the Metropolitan Opera’s renewed commitment to contemporary opera bringing opportunities to see exploratory work done with world-class production values, it’s definitely something to take advantage of, especially if you don’t live in New York.

  • Brett Dean: Hamlet (Metropolitan Opera Live in HD)
    I was ambivalent about this opera when I saw it during its premiere run at Glyndebourne Festival. It seemed unfocused, its opening too derivative of the opening of Death In Venice, the music unmemorable aside from the Act I scene with the traveling players… But I was won over by the Met’s 2022 mounting of the same production, and the textural transparency delivered by one of America’s best orchestras, enhanced by Met in HD’s clarion audio (including the stereo separation of the twin percussion/clarinet/trumpet trios placed in the side balconies). Librettist Matthew Jocelyn displays excellent judgment in avoiding the most famous soliloquys, and consulting the play’s first quarto for new insights on the drama. Allen Clayton seems singularly equipped to enact the title role—both his musical nuances and his gestures and stage movements capture the essence of the character perfectly, repaying the audacity shown by Dean and Jocelyn in daring to adapt this most iconic of all Shakespeare tragedies.

    Brenda Rae and Allan Clayton in Hamlet
  • Terence Blanchard: Fire Shut Up in My Bones (Metropolitan Opera on Demand)
    The bebop-infused musical language of Blanchard’s Fire lies squarely in the tradition initiated by Anthony Davis’s 1985 X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X (which also just received its first staging at the Met), and rarely strays from familiar tonal haunts. But it still offers some imaginative details, including the a cappella rhythmic chanting of the hazing scene, and the handling of the Char’es-Baby character (a boy treble whose lines often shadow or double those of his adult counterpart an octave higher). What impressed me the most, though, is how the cultural and musical appurtenances of the story’s Southern African-American milieu are enlisted in service of a dramatic theme—sexual abuse and the trials of adolescence—that’s universal to all communities. The rural domestic scenes, the Louisiana poultry plant, the fraternity initiation at Grambling State, etc., all function in ways similar to the Parisian and Andalusian trappings of La Bohème and Carmen, while challenging the stereotype that black operas should be about slavery, hagiography or the police.

    Fire Shut Up in my Bones via Metropolitan Opera
  • Jahreslauf vom Dienstag

    from Karlheinz Stockhausen’s LICHT:
    Dienstag
    (Philharmonie de Paris)
    Donnerstag – Acts I and II
    (Philharmonie de Paris)
    Freitag
    (Philharmonie de Paris)
    Le Balcon and Maxime Pascal continue their traversal of LICHT, Stockhausen’s hyper-epic seven-opera cycle (one for each day of the week) with three more days (staged by three different directors), adding to the previously-reviewed Samstag. Donnerstag (Thursday) contains some of the cycle’s most interesting music, starting in Act I with Michael’s Youth, an unusually personal and narrative traversal of Stockhausen’s traumatic childhood, including the wartime death of both parents (his mother shipped off to a mental institution where she was later euthanized, followed by his father’s death on the Eastern front). Act II is the famous Michael’s Ride Around the World, rendered in a modest concert staging with exquisite stereo sound (including the subterranean presence of the Invisible Choirs via Stockhausen’s own 16-track recorded realization), though less visual impact than MusikFabrik’s famous staging from 2009. Dienstag (Tuesday) is best represented by its first act, The Course of the Years, a quintessential 70s-era Stockhausen gagaku-influenced process piece.

    Donnerstag: The mother is taken to an asylum

    Then there’s the troublesome Freitag (Friday), whose sluggish music, dominated by canned 1990s digital synth drones, seems diluted by comparison with the other two operas (both composed earlier), and whose Urantia Book-derived cosmological narrative recounts a bizarre story of racial miscegenation, followed by a procession of increasingly strange “couples”, ranging from a cat and a dog, a crow and a nest, a tongue and an ice cream cone (get it?), and finally a pencil and pencil sharpener (ouch!), staged by director Silvia Costa as the result of student lab experiments. Whatever one’s misgivings about Stockhausen’s dramaturgy, it’s hard not to be astounded by the musicianship on display in these performances, including Freitag’s young choristers and instrumentalists, tasked with performing this notoriously complex and difficult music from memory. Le Balcon’s cherishingly-produced stagings offer much to ponder, including Stockhausen’s prowess as a sculptor of sensuous new sound worlds, and the conflicted emotions aroused by being simultaneously confronted with the bountiful imagination and megalomania of one of modern music’s most profligate geniuses.

    The most toploftical sex scene in all opera: Jenny Daviet (Eva) and Halidou Nombre (Kaino) in Freitag
  • Magdalena Kožená and Vilma Jää in the ending of Innocence

    Kaija Saariaho: Innocence (France Musique)
    Perhaps the most provocative item on the list is Kaija Saariaho’s final opera Innocence in its first video release. European composers often do better than their North American counterparts when it comes to writing for such tradition-laden institutions as orchestras and opera companies in ways that seem contemporary but not pretentious. Innocence carries the sound world of Alban Berg’s Wozzeck into the age of school shootings, culminating in a heart-wrenching scene where a bereaved mother meets the ghost of her murdered daughter for whom she’d continued to buy yearly birthday presents. The girl implores her mother to let her go…then disappears—an encounter that Saariaho sets with in a construct of folk singing and modernist orchestral sonorities, creating an effect that’s shattering but unsentimental.

    If you’re not up for something this wrenching, there’s Reconnaissance, a retrospective album of Saariaho’s choral music from BIS Records that includes several first recordings, and showcases how the late Franco-Finnish composer built a characteristic sound world out of slowly-changing instrumental and electronic textures from which fragmentary melodies emerge.

Prospectus

In my year-end article for 2021, I noted a tentativeness in the musical landscape, the lingering residue of lockdowns and their social and artistic impact. That seems to be gone now, but as the flow of contemporary music emerges from newly-reopened spigots, it enters a world increasingly beset by violence, division, and a propensity for closed-minded tribal thinking. Artists themselves are not immune to the latter. But the trajectory of the challenging and uncompromising music that best represents the contemporary global praxis of Western art music trends ultimately toward openness and individuality. Immerse yourself in its arduous, hard-fought authenticity as you carry your thoughts and hopes into what portends to be a obstreperous year.


Photo collage: Tyondai Braxton by Dustin Condren, Steve Reich via the artist, Anthony Braxton and Brandon Seabrook via Brandon Seabrook, Žibuoklė Martinaitytė by Lina Aiduke, Xenakis and Le Corbusier from Xenakis révolution: Le bâtisseur du son, Magdalena Kožená and Vilma Jää in Kaija Saariaho: Innocence, Frederic Rzewski by Michael Wilson, Gordon Grdina via the artist, trio (Butch Morris, Bobby Previte, Wayne Horvitz) by Keri Peckett, Liza Lim by Klaus Rudolf, Keith Jarrett by Daniela Yohannes, Frank Zappa and Lady Bianca by Alan Smithee/John Rudiak, Salvatore Sciarrino via the composer, Sarah Davachi via the artist, Terence Blanchard: Fire Shut Up in my Bones via Metropolitan Opera, Meredith Monk by Jack Mitchell, Cergio Prudencio via Kairos Records, Stockhausen: Donnerstag aus LICHT via Philharmonie de Paris, Yikii via the artist, Otto Sidharta via Sub Rosa Label.

CD Review, Chamber Music, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, Strings

Gerald Cohen – Voyagers (CD Review)

 

Gerald Cohen

Voyagers

Innova Records

 

One can think of few chamber ensembles better suited to contemporary music than the Cassatt String Quartet. Their intonation, musicality, and interpretive powers are superlative. Composer Gerald Cohen has enlisted them to record three of his pieces on Innova, two originally commissioned for Cassatt. 

 

Cohen describes himself as a storyteller, both in his vocal and instrumental music. The three distinct narratives here are populated by musical quotations relevant to them, yet they never seem like pastiche. The title work is about the two Voyager spacecrafts, which were sent out into our solar system with a golden record of musical examples. The hope was that they could be played by any extraterrestrials that might be encountered, and give a sense of the cultural life on planet Earth. 

 

The piece is for clarinet – played by Narek Arutyunian –  and quartet. Four attacca movements each transform the material from a different selection on the gold record. “Cavatina” deals with the analogous section from Beethoven’s String Quartet Op. 130. Cohen also imagines it as the beginning of the spacecrafts’ journey. Shadowy harmonies and a limpid high violin line start the movement, which over the course of nine-and-a-half minutes treats Beethoven’s music in a highly individual way. 

 

The second movement, “Bhairavi,” deals with a raga. Arutyunian embodies the complex scalar patterns of the music with nuanced shaping, as do the members of the quartet. The accompaniment is deliberately simple – pizzicato repeated notes. As the movement develops, there is hocketing of the tune between the various players. “Galliard” is the quartet’s Scherzo movement, based on “The Fairy Round” by renaissance composer Anthony Holborne. Scraps of the tune are exchanged contrapuntally in a humorous, whirling dance. “Beyond the Heliosphere” concludes the quartet with sustained pitches in a complex of intricate harmony, a descending melody, sometimes winnowed down to just a minor third interval, passing from part to part. The Cavatina theme, followed by a high note from bass clarinet, send the Voyagers continuing on their journey.

 

Playing for Our Lives is a piece for quartet about the Terezin concentration camp, a “show camp” where the Red Cross was allowed admittance to see better conditions than the hellish death camps where prisoners would later be deported. Music-making was encouraged, and many pieces created in Terezin have survived, demonstrating the talent and resiliency of their creators. By far the most famous is Viktor Ullmann, whose opera Der Kaiser von Atlantis has entered the repertory. While in the camp, Ullmann arranged Beryozkele (“Little Birch Tree”), a popular Yiddish song. Cohen uses the song’s melody as a touchstone in the first movement. Other songs that are quoted are Czech, Hebrew, and Yiddish songs. The second movement “Brundibar,” takes as its title that of the children’s opera composed by Hans Krása.” The title of the entire work, Playing for our Lives, is based on a quote by one of the few survivors of the orchestra that played at Brundibar’s premiere, Paul Rabinowitsch, a then 14-year old trumpeter. The adolescent feared playing wrong notes, lest he be deported by the SS for his mistakes.

 

At first I found the last movement’s inclusion of the Dies Irae from Verdi’s Requiem to be curious, but recognized after a few listens that is a response to the SS officers who ran the camp, that they would be called to account for their evil deeds. Cohen’s music embodies the twentieth century neoclassicism and folk influences of the composers at Terezin, all the while presenting an eloquent rejoinder to hate and anti-Semitism.  Thus, it is a timely work. 

 

The recording closes with an unusual ensemble grouping: the Cassatt Quartet is joined by trombonist Colin Williams in a heterogenous quintet, “Preludes and Debka.” Once again, the connection to the present is palpable. A debka is a Middle Eastern circle dance, performed both by Jewish and Arab people at social gatherings, such as weddings. Sometimes the trombone is used for bass pedals, but more often it plays melodies as doublings or in counterpoint. Cohen manages to balance things well so that the trombone doesn’t overwhelm the strings, and Williams plays his solo turns, including a mid-piece cadenza, with supple lyricism. After the cadenza is a long, moody duet between first violin and trombone, a break in the dance rhythms. Gradually, the dance rhythms reinsert themselves into the texture, with an accelerando back into the debka. Apart from a few interjections of the slow central music, it whirls until the piece’s coda, where there is another lyrical interruption, and the dance comes to a jaunty conclusion. 

 

I couldn’t help imagining people from throughout the Middle East’s various faiths coming together and dancing. It seems far away at this writing, but Cohen’s eloquent piece stirred this hope in me. Cohen is a gifted storyteller and an equally formidable composer. The Cassatt Quartet once again prove to be stalwart advocates for contemporary music. Voyagers is one of my favorite releases of 2023.

 

-Christian Carey

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, Organ

Anna Lapwood – Luna (CD Review)

 

Luna

Anna Lapwood

Chapel Choir of Pembroke College, Cambridge

Sony Classical

 

At 27, organist Anna Lapwood is a rising star, performing at the BBC Proms and recently being given the RPS Gamechanger Award at The Royal Philharmonic Society Awards. For her latest Sony recording, Luna, Lapwood focuses on transcriptions, a venerable tradition in organ music. Most of the transcriptions are Lapwood’s, and they prove that she knows the possibilities of pipe organs inside and out. Alongside staples of the classical repertoire, the organist plays a number of pieces from popular and film music. The blend of old and new transcriptions, as well as original organ works, creates a varied and attractive program. It celebrates the night sky, in a many-hued rendering.

 

Max Richter is an electronic musician whose work focuses on post-minimal ostinatos. The transcription of his On the Nature of Daylight layers wordless chorus – the Chapel Choir of Pembroke College, Cambridge –  on top of a chaconne in the organ in a sumptuous translation. Minimalism in general sounds great on pipe organ, and transcriptions of Philip Glass’s Mad Rush and Ludovico Einaudi’s Experience sound great here.

 

Film music also makes an impression. “Flying,” from James Newton Howard’s score for Peter Pan, is treated with contrasting stops and buoyant passagework combined with vigorous pedal motives. Dario Marinelli’s “Dawn,” from the score for Pride and Prejudice, employs the decorative chromaticism of the nineteenth century, making it an excellent choice to transcribe in the style of the French organ school.

 

In recent years, there has been a renaissance of the African-American Florence Price’s music. Her “Elf on a Moonbeam,” taken from the composer’s Short Organ Works, begins with incantatory arpeggios, gradually introducing an ascending melody accompanied by gospel-inflected chords. The central section contains puckish staccato harmonies, followed by a whole-tone transition that leads back to the gospel passage to conclude. Perhaps at some point Lapwood will record Price’s whole collection; Elf on a Moonbeam makes it seem promising.

 

“Grain Moon” by Olivia Belli is a mysterious, modally-inflected piece for which Lapwood employs the great variety of flute stops at her disposal. “Dreamland,” by Kristina Arakelyan, is filled with diaphanous textures and flowing arpeggios. Ghislaine Reece-Trapp’s “In Paradisum” contains several attractive melodies, and Lapwood distinguishes each with a different registration, providing a listening tour of the chapel organ at the Royal Hospital School, built in 1993 by Hill, Norman, and Beard.

 

My favorite piece on the recording is Ēriks Ešenvalds’s “Stars,” on which Lapwood again directs the Chapel Choir of Pembroke College, Cambridge. A work in the polychordal style, it contains stacked ascending entries and wide dynamic swells. The accompaniment is subtle, but includes a single-note refrain that distinguishes it from a merely supportive role. Ešenvalds is one of the most talented composers working today, and the choir does sterling work with the piece.

 

Popular classics, the Bach/Gounod Ave Maria, Chopin’s Nocturne No. 2 in E-flat Major, and, to close the album, a version of Debussy’s Clair de Lune, are all given sensitive performances. Lapwood is a gifted organist, and Arc also shares with us her talents as transcriber and choral conductor. It is one of my favorite recordings of 2023.

 

-Christian Carey



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

Steve Lehman and Orchestre National de Jazz (CD Review)

Steve Lehman and Orchestre National de Jazz

Ex Machina

Pi Recordings

 

Saxophonist Steve Lehman not only has chops as a jazz musician, he is a trained composer with a background in electronics. Ex Machina is his most ambitious project to date, with electronics developed at the premiere new music center IRCAM in Paris. They respond live in performance to the spectral harmonies and polyrhythms made by the orchestra. While live electronics have been emanating from IRCAM for some time, Lehman’s electronics are neatly incorporated into both composed and improvised textures.

 

The first track “39” contains a solo by Lehman that strides the boundaries of inside and outside. Indeed much of the music here refuses to be easily categorized. While there are bespoke elements and post-tonal verticals, there are also soloists that swing and passagework that couldn’t have existed without big bands past.

 

The motoric plays a role as well. In “Los Angeles Imaginary,” one can hear the fracas of the freeways in polyrhythmic ostinatos from the rhythm section, while electronics and the horn section supply car horns and bleary trumpets a sliver of noir. “Chimera” is more mysterious, with pitched percussion mixing with gong-like electronics. Morse code percussion and repeated notes from the saxophones and trumpets succeed this, once more dealing with rhythmic layering. A florid vibes solo is the tune’s centerpiece. 

 

“Jeux D’Anches” has repeated harmonic cells and furious drumming, over which a soaring trumpet solo and another vibes solo, after which the sections undertake the chordal repetitions, with a tuba alongside in off-kilter fashion. Before moving into a swelling jazz band section, “Les Treize Soleils” opens with a hat tip to Boulez, flute and electronics creating a modernist environment. Similarly, “Alchimie” juxtaposes modern classical gestures with a swinging backbeat.

 

Two long-form suites, “Speed-Freeze Parts 1 and 2” and “Le Seuil Parts 1 and 2” are Ex Machina’s culmination. The first opens with a slow repeated series of pitches in a small collection of instruments, Lehman’s saxophone among them, with vibrato prevalent. Quick-silver passages are juxtaposed with the slow material, with disjunct solos gradually accumulating, including an extended one for trombone. A Zappa-esque coda finishes the first part. The second part exudes funkiness from the band alongside another set of pitched percussion interjections. A baritone saxophone solo starts low and then uses pitch bends and squalls at its peak, joined by Lehman to trade licks. The tenor saxophonist then stretches out, playing exuberantly over off-kilter rhythms and chordal horn sections. Lehman’s solo concludes with caterwauling and nimble alternate scales. The various sections alternate quick repetitions, interrupted by the spacious pitched percussion interludes of the first part. Once again, low brass takes over the foreground, continuing to be juxtaposed with the percussion ostinato and repeated brass chords. The flutes return, descending in chromatic runs until subsumed by low brass and repeated vibraphone clangs.

 

“Le Seuil” begins with long electronic tones interrupted by splashy brass. Glissandos appear, only to have fortissimo brass provide a rejoinder. Clusters in the piano are repeated over sustained bass drones and haloed by electronics and microtonal horn lines. A loping trombone solo is swiftly interrupted by a slice of the full band. The music slides into a mystifying demeanor, one that mirrors the opening of “Speed-Freeze.” Single vibraphone notes and recessed wind chords are accompanied by extensive electronic punctuations. A trumpet call announces the end of the section. Part two begins with shimmering electronics, a thrumming bass line, a second ostinato in the piano, and an aggressive trombone solo. Chordal crescendos buoy the trombone’s closing gestures, and then angular counterpoint and a cascade of synth sounds take over, with the inexorable bass line continuing to pulsate, then sustain. Combined harmonies from electronics and the ensemble swirl into a brief denouement.

 

Lehman’s art combines the most sophisticated means, notable in terms of its harmonic construction, sophisticated rhythms, and employment of technology. In an excellent collaboration, Orchestre National de Jazz meets every challenge he poses. Ex Machina is one of my favorite releases of 2023.

 

-Christian Carey

 

Ambient, CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music

greyfade – LP2

LP2 is a newly-released album from the greyfade recording label that consists of electronic, vocal and instrumental sounds woven into a rare and beautiful ambient tapestry. Available in vinyl LP and digital download formats, LP2 is an inspired collaboration between vocalist Theo Bleckmann and electronic musician Joseph Branciforte. More than just a series of tracks, LP2 is intended as “…a complete conceptual universe – a synthesis of sound, compositional architecture, design and text worthy of sustained engagement.” Several years in the making, LP2 is a natural extension of greyfade’s acclaimed ambient album LP1 from 2019.

Joseph Branciforte, the founder of the greyfade record label and a Grammy Award-winner, has extensive experience as a recording engineer as well as process-based composition, electronic and acoustic minimalism. Theo Bleckmann, a vocalist twice nominated for a Grammy, “…makes music that is accessibly sophisticated, unsentimentally emotional, and seriously playful…” In many ways, the structure of the pieces in the album amount to Branciforte and Bleckmann working seamlessly as a single artist. Their combined talents have resulted in LP2, an album that explores the relationship between the otherworldly and the familiar.

The first track is 1.13 and was originally recorded as part of the sessions for LP1 back in 2018, but was left off that album. This track thus forms a natural connection between the two. 1.13 opens with low sustained string tones, as if the distant roar of some large motor. Soft vocals enter, long tones without words. Occasional chimes add a solemn feeling to an otherwise restful and serene ambiance. The skillful mix of these elements create an even and pleasant texture. As the piece proceeds, the parts slowly fade away, thinning out the lovely sounds and reducing the dynamics. 1.13 glides to a placid landing, the contented essence of soothing tranquility.

Some of the pieces on this CD are short ,at just a minute or two, much like sonic samplers. 10.11.5, the second track, Opens with a soft electronic beeping, soon joined by sustained voices. There is a gentle feel to this and a slightly alien feel, although never intimidating. 10.14.4, track 4, is similar with somewhat stronger beeping and a faster tempo. Voices in harmony sing short notes in syncopated counterpoint over a lovely sustained tone. A mechanical clicking adds just a touch of urgency to this piece.

10.17.13, track 7, opens with a variety of electronic and metallic sounds along with a touch of mystery in the vocal parts. There is a stronger alien feel to this, but never menacing. The volume builds, cresting to add a bit of tension, but soon fades away. 8.11, track 5, is slightly longer at 3 minutes and begins with solitary metallic tones, heard singly or a few at a time. Sustained voices appear in the background with percussive sounds and occasional musical tones dominating. A restful feel to this even as the metallic sounds contribute an alien flavor. Overall, these pieces straddle the line between the warmly welcoming and the otherworldly.

7.21, track 6, takes this idea a bit further with a duration slightly longer than 7 minutes. Light bell chiming sounds open and are followed by flute entrance with long tones in low register. Quiet vocals, in same general register as the flute, add a distinctly human element. There is a soothing and gentle feel to this that is complimented by a steady drone and the subdued electronic sounds. The vocals occasionally soar above the texture beautifully evoking a gentle and introspective atmosphere.

11.15, track 3, is one of the longer pieces at 10:12 and has perhaps the most complex blend of sounds. Deep single bass tones in the opening repeat a three note phrase. A languid voice enters, repeating a simple melodic phrase without words Bells and other electronics now in the texture and a male voice enters in counter melody. There is some complexity to the texture but always simple and lovely. Some sustained instrumental tones enter with a halting, somewhat mechanical feel. There is a beautiful blending of the electronic, instrumental and vocal sounds so that all the elements combine well together. Towards the finish, the voices become more rhythmically active and increase their dynamics to dominate. 11.15 combines all its various elements to create a lovely sound that just keeps flowing along until quietly fading at the finish.

9.23, track 8, concludes the album. Soft voices open with a scratching, mechanical timbre followed by electronic musical tones, distant and cool, with strong sustained notes. This produces a slightly menacing, but mysterious feel. Now long sustained vocal tones, sounding almost as screams, arc over the softer texture. The declarative style of the vocals dominate and there is a sense of tension here, more so than the other pieces on this album. Bell tones appear and the mix of sounds seems to be gradually changing. A more intentional feel develops, and this final piece is no benign ambient wash. At the finish, the sounds slowly fade out in a rhythmic cycle leaving only a light static. 9.23 is perhaps the most calculating piece of the album: warm, yet distant – congenial, yet remote. The listener is invited to decide what this music is communicating about the “…boundaries between improvisation & composition, live performance & studio production, human & machine-generated sound.”

LP2 invites the listener to consider the mix of the alien and the welcoming in the sounds. Each piece contains these elements in slightly different proportions, and the listener must decide if this constitutes a threat or reassurance. Joseph Branciforte is a Grammy Award-winner for sound engineering and his skills on this album deserve special mention. The variety the sounds heard on LP2 often send out conflicting emotions in a way that outweighs their sonic presence. The mixing and mastering here are extraordinary in that there is a cohesive and balanced fabric that frames these unusual sonic textures. The clarity delivered by LP2 provides the listener with a new level of precision for the evaluation of unique sounds and unusual combinations.

LP2 is available from the greyfade record label directly.

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, File Under?, Vocals

What of Words and What of Song – Juliet Fraser on Neos (CD Review)

 

 

What of Words and What of Song

Juliet Fraser, vocalist

With Mikael Rudolfsson, trombone, Helen Bledsoe, bass flute, and Uli Fussenegger, double bass

NEOS Music 

 

Soprano Juliet Fraser is one of very few performers who could successfully present the challenging program on What of Words and What of Song (NEOS Music). It consists of works by European composers born in the 1950s and 1960s: Rebecca Saunders, Enno Poppe, Beat Furrer, and Chaya Chernowin. Fraser doesn’t just sing them, she inhabits the pieces with encompassing dramatic commitment. 

 

“O,” by Rebecca Saunders, features swooping glissandos and breath slides, alongside untexted sections that not only include vowels, but lip and throat trills, gasps, quick-rendered gibberish, overtones, and throat singing. Fraser makes these seemingly incongruous elements cohere into an expressive presentation that imparts a dramatic shape despite lacking a perceptible text. It ends with an ascending glissando that suggests a question mark. O Yes and I, also by Saunders, is a successor to O, in which its material is repurposed for a duet with bass flute, here played by Helen Bledsoe. Bledsoe is a worthy collaborator, mimicking Fraser and alternatively serving as a foil. She also has impressive control with the instrument, playing securely in a wide dynamic range with stentorian attacks that can be challenging on this large member of the flute family.

Enno Poppe’s Wespe (“Wasp”) uses undulating pitches to describe the insect’s path. Gradually, consonants are added and additional motives suggest a wasp lighting from place to place, occasionally buffeted by the wind. It is subtle in its programmatic use of vocalise, but the result is beguiling 

 

Trombonist Mikael Rudolfsson joins Fraser for Spazio Immergente I (“Immersive Space”) by Beat Furrer. Muted trombone lines swoop around swelling high notes from Fraser. The soprano then sings repetitions that mirror the gestures in the trombone. The mute comes off, and there is a more competitive stance between the performers and a role reversal, the trombone undertaking swells while Fraser performs digressive riffs. Eventually, the two are joined in performing long glissandos, Fraser arriving at some of her highest notes as Rudolfsson then undertakes low pedal tones. A coda replete with staccato culminates with a flurry of fortissimo attacks in altissimo gestures from Fraser and glissandos and blats in the bass from Rudolfsson. 

 

Adiantum Capillus-Veneris I (“Maidenhair fern”) is by Chaya Czernowin. Maidenhair ferns are distinctive in their ability to shed rainwater without getting wet. The ferns grow in many places in the world, including Israel, where Czernowin is from and first saw them. The piece is marked,”for voice and air.” The use of exaggerated inhalations and exhalations serves as an extra “voice.” There is a watery ascent of breath at the beginning that is then replaced with sung ascending glissandos, each with pauses for breath. The rate of change gradually speeds up, followed by whooshes and ha’s. Then blowing outward between silences. The watery ascent continues, held at the end each time in emphatic fry. A long breath serves as a transition to the voice’s return to singing ascending glissandos; the two are then juxtaposed. Descending minor thirds add a final motive to the mix. The opening ascent and fry return, and the piece closes in whorls of air. Czernowin has likened Adiantum Capillus-Veneris I to a line drawing or small painting; this is an excellent analogy for the deployment of its detailed material. 

 

The last piece on the recording is Lótofagos I (lotus-eaters) for soprano and double bass by Beat Furrer. Fraser’s collaborator here is Uli Fusseneger, who is a stellar player. Lotus-eaters are people from an episode in Homer’s Odyssey who ate only lotuses, which caused them to forget. Today, the term connotes an indolent pleasure-seeker. The texts, for here words are recognizably employed, are by José Ángel Valente. It is a strange story, rendered with a gradual buildup from cooing to fortissimo keening, and softly rendered tight dissonances and double-stops to full chords on the double-bass. Furrer’s take appears to embody the fear of loss of recognition rather than a sense of peaceful rest. Little shared motives seem to dissolve over the course of the piece; another framing of forgetting, here as oblivion. As the piece goes on, language is lost in places to lip trills and isolated vowels, with the poem seeming to dissolve too. 

 

The four composers here are imaginative in their conceptions of vocalism beyond language. Fraser embodies each of their pieces compellingly, with impressive attention to details of vocal, musical, and expressive elements. What of Words and What of Song is one of my favorite releases I have encountered in 2023.

 

-Christian Carey

 

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Microfest Records – Flotsam and Jetsam

Flotsam & Jetsam is a new release by Microfest Records that features pieces by three contemporary composers. Altromondo (2013-15, rev. 2018), by Kurt Rohde, consists of ten tracks as performed by Genevieve Feiwen Lee and Aron Kallay. Titanium (2014), by João Pedro Oliveira, is performed by the piano duo of Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay, Nothing hidden that will not be revealed (2007, rev. 2019), by Alan Shockley, is also performed by Kallay. These pieces are comprised mostly of piano music although there are many extended techniques as well as other unusual instruments included. The album is sub-titled “Music for Piano and Assorted Accoutrements” and as a result, each piece has its own distinctive characteristics.

The first piece on the album is Kurt Rohde’s Altromondo, written for piano duo. This proceeds in ten shortish movements of between two and seven minutes each. In addition to playing extended techniques on the prepared piano, the performers are also called upon to incorporate sounds from a variety of items such as the melodica, harmonica, Chinese paper accordions, triangles and antique cymbals. The inspiration of the piece is roughly nautical, with movements such as “flotsam”, “jetsam” and “derelict”. The music has an unconventional and otherworldly texture that is constantly shifting, coalescing, scattering and then reassembling itself as it flows along. The album notes for the final movement serves to summarize the entire structure of Altromondo: “All things are an assembly of parts; even the parts have parts, moving or still, adding up to a whole, breaking down further to the breakably small.”

The first movement of Altromondo is “piano…piano [homonym]” and this acts as an introduction to the entire piece. Light bell tones ring out, quietly accompanied by a repeating two note line from the melodica. Mysterious phrases now emanate from the melodica, dominating the texture. Rising scales, disjointed rhythms and independent lines evolve into what sounds like a chattering conversation. A short silence is followed by a renewal of the bell tones and a more solemn melody line. The piano enters with aggressive rhythms that disrupt the restful feeling and build to a sudden ending. The contrast between the bell tones, melodica and piano create a distinctive texture that seems to oscillate between the abstract and the conventional. Genevieve Feiwen Lee and Aron Kallay establish an effective foundation for the diverse combinations later heard throughout the entire piece.

“Flotsam” and “Jetsam”, title tracks for the album, are two of the shorter movements in Altromondo and are most directly inspired by the nautical theme. Jetsam refers to material thrown overboard from a ship that is sinking or struggling in heavy seas. This movement begins with strong piano chords in the middle registers, perhaps signifying some distress. There are syncopated melodic notes accompanied by single notes that arc above, bringing a mysterious and introspective feel. Rapid rhythms and descending scales cascade into a gentle harmony at the finish. “Jetsam” evokes the panic and drama of lightening the load when facing disaster. “Flotsam” illustrates the consequences of debris seen scattered across the water. Straightforward chords in conventional harmony open, but now stern, declarative chords add a certain tension. The presence of flotsam indicates a state of maritime disorder, and the rhythms become increasingly disorganized and jumpy to the unsettled finish. All of this is expressively played with a stylish and engaging flair.

Other movements are playfully off the maritime theme. “aside: Let Me Play With Your Poodle”, the fifth movement, opens with a strong piano chord and uptempo ‘fanfare’ passage. Complex independent passages in various registers provide an intricate, yet stylish sound, reminiscent of 1930s dance music. The third movement, “aside the side I” opens with soft repeating phrases in middle/high register with intriguing harmony. The lovely feel to this interrupted suddenly by strong, deep chord. This is more introspective than the other movements and described as ‘Himmelmusik’ in the album notes. Movement 7, “aside the side II” expands on this. Other tracks on the album are similarly surprising and imaginative.

Masterfully performed by Genevieve Feiwen Lee and Aron Kallay, Altromondo presents a wonderful assemblage of musical sounds not often heard together, creating new textures and nuances that stimulate the imagination in unexpected ways.

The second piece on the album is Titanium by João Pedro Oliveira, performed by the piano duo of Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay. One of four works by Oliveira inspired by the earthly elements and, more specifically, the Greek gods of strength, Titanium is full of rapid bursts of abstract phrases that create a mysterious and slightly ominous atmosphere. There is an excellent mix of low rumbling in the piano with light percussion riding above. All of this is played with careful attention to precision, and while complex, it is never overwhelming. An inventive mix of sounds, it is space-like at times with a slightly alien feel. The phrasing changes in some detail but overall this piece has similar structural lines throughout.

At 9:00 the tempo slows and the texture thins out with short stretches of silence between the passages. Still mysterious but now more transparent as the layering of sounds is somewhat reduced. The feeling is more distant and remote as a series of sharp piano chords build to the finish. Titanium is a nicely balanced mixture of the abstract and the accessible, skillfully realized by the Ray-Kallay duo.

The final work, Nothing hidden that will not be revealed, by Alan Shockley is 25 minutes in duration and the longest piece of the album. A great variety of sounds and expressions are heard in this piece, all exquisitely played by Aron Kallay. Dramatic and mysterious, the piece was Inspired by Buddhist themes and sayings from the Gnostic gospels. Alan Shockley writes that “This is a piece about the sounds behind the sounds being actuated by the player’s hands on the keys. Every sound is connected to other sounds, resonances, ghosts, and sympathetic vibrations.”

Nothing hidden … begins with a quiet opening chord, distant and remote. Short, rapid phrases repeat in middle piano registers. A low rumble is heard, followed by meandering passages and angry pounding. The mysterious feel to this is enhanced by contentious passages that vary in tempo and dynamic. The piece proceeds, shifting back and forth between quiet, single notes and louder, ponderous sounds. Kallay strums on the piano strings, adding a distinctly alien element. There are great contrasts throughout, reflecting an almost bipolar character. Nothing hidden … is pensive at times, as if waiting to spring on the listener.

At 10:45 a great cluster chord booms out like a sudden explosion. In contrast, soft conventional chords soon appear, interspersed with various extended techniques. Quieter cluster chords are heard like distant thunder. The audio engineering on this piece is exceptional – the nuances of all the many unconventional sounds are clearly heard. At 15:45 a hymn melody is heard with some baroque ornamentation – a welcome bit of familiarity. Sharply dynamic chords follow, sounding like lightning strikes along with distant rumbles in the lower registers. A series of repeating single low notes sound like a the striking of a clock tower. The piece slows and fades towards its finish, as if winding down. Nothing hidden that will not be revealed skillfully weaves a great variety of sounds and textures from the piano, all masterfully played by Aron Kallay.

Flotsam & Jetsam delivers a vibrant palette of colors and textures that expand the expressive possibilities of contemporary piano music beyond the conventional.

Flotsam & Jetsam is available directly as a digital download from Microfest Records.

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Sciarrino on Kairos (CD Review)

Salvatore Sciarrino

Paesaggi con macerie

Kairos

Monica Bacelli, mezzo-soprano

Icarus vs. Muzak, conducted by Marco Angius

 

Salvatore Sciarrino (b.1947) is one of today’s most prominent Italian composers. His work encompasses the effects and inflections of second modernity, frequently alongside transcriptions of earlier music. This combination yields singular pieces from a composer who has a distinctive and compelling voice. Icarus vs. Muzak, conducted by Marco Angius, adopts well the various facets of Sciarrino’s music, performing the quotations with clarity and the frequent contrasts energetically.

 

The influences incorporated on Paesaggi con macerie, Sciarrino’s latest portrait CD for the Kairos imprint, are a disjunct pairing, Chopin and Gesualdo. Passagi con macerie (2022) is a three movement work written in homage to Chopin. His Mazurkas are presented in various guises – snatches of quotation, full length quotes, and, in the last movement, the group plays the famous Mazurka in C-major, distressed by percussion to sound like a skipping Victrola. Surrounding the Mazurka material are the special effects that also typify Sciarrino’s work. Few composers work so well with borrowed material, incorporating into a contemporary aesthetic.

 

Mezzo-soprano Monica Bacelli joins the ensemble for Le Voci sottovetro (1999), a piece inspired by stories of genies in bottles at the bottom of the ocean and by the music of Gesualdo. Sciarrino transcribes the madrigalisms found in Gesualdo’s work, creating a vivid scoring. Bacelli is an expressive singer with a generous lower register. Her sense of phrasing is both detailed and emotive, a delicate balancing act.

 

Exporazione del bianco II (1986) is based on a poetic image, the moment of blindness after a bolt of lightning. The piece doesn’t employ quotation, instead using extended techniques in pointillistic fashion to create a fragmentary score. Icarus vs. Muzak is in their element here, performing the score’s terse, rhythmically intricate entrances and overtone-based harmonies with assuredness.

 

The recording concludes with Gesualdo senza parole (2013), a four-movement piece written to commemorate the 400th anniversary of Gesualdo’s death. Instrumental transcriptions of Gesualdo’s madrigals, scored to bring out colorful textures and dovetailing melodies, for the most part eschew extended techniques, the occasional glissando or harmonic sufficing. Antiphonal passages and dynamic echoes give the image of these pieces being sung. The transcriptions are expertly done, making their renditions seem nearly inevitable. The fourth movement, initially an addition to the piece, is described by Sciarrino as “an insolent concertino for marimba and six instruments.” Here he reincorporates effects and pointillism, frequently breaking up Gesualdo’s music into fragments. Upon the marimba’s entry, a madrigal transcription enters, returning the ambience to that of former movements. Gradually, transcription and extensions converge, finishing the piece in the distinctive polyglot ambiance that is Sciarrino’s preferred approach.

 

Paesaggi con macerie is a fascinating addition to Sciarrino’s catalog. The combination of extraordinary progenitors and Sciarrino’s expert way of handling them makes this one of my favorite recordings of 2023.

 

-Christian Carey