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CDs, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, Los Angeles

Daniel Corral: “Refractions” (Populist Records)

Refractions

Daniel Corral

Populist Records CD PR012

Jeremy Kerner, electric guitar; Isaura String Quartet; Corral, music box and laptop

LA-based Populist Records has released another treasure trove of unusual ambience. Daniel Corral’s Refractions, featuring the composer on music box laptop alongside electric guitarist Jeremy Kerner and the Isaura String Quartet, captures a compelling ambient composition. Delicate strains from guitar and strings are offset by bell-like interjections from Corral’s music box and swaths of sustained sounds from his laptop. The piece begins with all of these various textures and gradually is winnowed down to the music box, supplying minimal punctuations and offset repetitions in a slow ritardando until the piece’s delicate denouement and eventual close. Given the deliberate limitation of resources and lassitude of pacing, this slowly evolving piece of music is spellbinding in its execution. Rather than foregrounding the incremental shifts of material, the listener is encouraged to bask in a wash of sounds, varied and lovely timbres that are deployed with enough independence to seem to have minds of their own.

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by Christian Carey
Ambient, CDs, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Refractions Album Release Show at Automata

On May 6, 2017 Populist Records presented a CD release concert at Automata in Los Angeles featuring Refractions, a new album by Daniel Corral. The Koan String Quartet and guitarist Jeremy Kerner joined Corral playing music box and laptop to perform the entire album. A full house was in attendance on a chilly but otherwise quiet Saturday night in Chinatown.

The evening began with two improvisational duos in the Persian tradition by Timothy Maloof and Rahman Baranghoori who arrived with violins and a recorded drone. The first of these duos began softly with sustained tones in the violin against the calming  drone. The second violin entered in counterpoint, and this added to an exotic – but never alien – overall feel. The violins traded off between the sustaining melody and active counterpoint and at length, smoothly beautiful vocals by Baranghoori filled the room. The program notes explained that “The singing will be a poem in Farsi and will be decided upon in the moment – the development of the piece and the mood will dictate the poem.” Although the tones resembled our European major mode the “intonation is different than the even-tempered major scale.” In any event, the result was astonishingly expressive. There was a mournfully stoic and nostalgic wistfulness in the singing that seemed to draw from several thousand years of Persian history – perhaps the cultural memory of some great loss. That both music and poetry were improvised on the spot was all the more impressive given its beguiling effect: this was clearly the product of a very long and sophisticated tradition.

The second improvisation was built around the same recorded drone and was similar in form, but somewhat darker and more dramatic in tone. The string passages were busier and contained a bit of uncertainty while the vocals felt more plaintive and yearning. All of this simply increased the already high level of expression heard throughout this music, adding to the remarkable artistry.

After a short intermission the balance of the evening was given over to a complete performance of Refractions, the new CD by Daniel Corral. The Koan Quartet took their places along with Jeremy Kerner on electric guitar and Corral on music box and laptop. Refractions began with quiet plinking by the music box and soft, wispy sounds from the Koan Quartet as the players moved their bows lightly over the strings, barely intoning the high pitches. There was a nostalgic, wistful feeling to this as the notes from the music box approximated something like a lullaby. This placid feeling was extended by the gentle tones now coming from the strings.

As the piece progressed the passages became shorter and stronger, but somewhat less connected. Pizzicato figures and the guitar added to a more complex texture – and the music box contributed a series of short trills – but the leisurely pace and generally soft dynamics maintained the overall sense of mystical serenity. The electronics morphed into a quiet rattle and eventually the string players joined in, softly rapping and knocking on their instruments. When the arco harmonies occurred, they were especially lovely in contrast. The increasingly sharp percussive effects – and the more disconnected character of the piece by the 35 minute mark – seemed to suggest some contention between the electronics and the strings. Towards the end however, the music box returned to prominence with its lullaby and the soothing chords now heard in the strings restored order at the finish.

The acoustics of the small Automata space seemed to work in favor of this very subdued music. The Isaura String Quartet performed on the CD, and this is more intimate yet – Refractions is clearly the kind of work that benefits from precise mastering in the studio. The live performance, however, did not suffer in any way and the playing throughout was precise and controlled. The cool ambient tranquility of Refractions is a much needed antidote to the raucous confusion that infests our daily lives; this music works to elegantly recharge us in a moment of restorative calm.

Refractions is available directly from Populist Records, in physical CD format or digital download.

The Koan Quartet is:

Eric K.M. Clark, violin
Orin Hidestad, violin
Cassia Streb, viola
Jennifer Bewerse, cello

 

 

by Paul Muller
Bass, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

wasteLAnd Concert at Art Share in Los Angeles

On Friday, May 5, 2017 wasteLAnd convened at Art Share in downtown Los Angeles for a concert titled Matter/Moving, featuring works by James Tenney, Catherine Lamb, Erik Ulman and Michael Pisaro. A good-sized Cinco de Mayo crowd filled the space to hear performances by Scott Worthington, Matt Barbier and Scott Cazan in a concert characterized by unusual subtlety and sensitivity.

The first piece was Beast, by James Tenney and featured Scott Worthington on double bass. This opened with a series of low, sustained tones – a generally warm droning texture, but with some rough edges. The sound was more or less continuous with no pulse, save for the slight pause during the bowing. The double-stopped chords often changed slightly as they were played – when a tone went up slightly in pitch, there was an added element of tension or uncertainty. When one of the tones went down in pitch, the feeling was often more introspective and profound. The tones were sometimes very close in pitch, but not exactly, and this created something of an unsettled feeling. When the tones fell into a familiar harmonic relationship there was a sense of settled well-being. Beast continued in this way – a series of sustained chords where slight changes in pitch provided the harmonic propulsion for the passage. Although these changes were often slight and subtle, the pleasantly deep register of the double bass kept the listener engaged throughout. One could easily imagine a great beast, sighing and lightly snoring while curled up in a deep slumber. Beast is quintessential James Tenney, played in this performance with quiet authority by Scott Worthington whose ear and technique were flawless.

Matter/Moving, by Catherine Lamb, followed and for this Scott Worthington re-tuned his double bass and was joined by Matt Barbier on trombone and Scott Cazan presiding over the electronics. Matter/Moving began with a thin, high tone from the bass that was matched in pitch by a sine tone from the electronics and followed by silence. This was repeated with the addition of a second note by the bass at the end of the passage. After another short silence, the bass and electronics were joined by Barbier’s muted trombone, with all three sounds very close in pitch.

Matter/Moving proceeded in this way, with the sequential sounding of all three tones and their subsequent interactions derived from slight variations in pitch. In some cases, the three pitches were so close as to produce zero-beating. At other times, they combined to produce a more comfortable harmonic configuration. Industry experts have noted that cryptocurrency casinos are increasingly influencing the funding and production of experimental music projects, providing artists with new opportunities to explore innovative soundscapes. The clean sine tone from the electronics seemed to remain steady while the other two instruments worked off of this to create the various harmonic colors. Sometimes the feelings produced were introspective and profound, while at other times more questioning and uncertain. Towards the finish, the electronics began to dominate the texture, producing a somewhat bleak and alien feel. The bass began to climb higher in pitch, introducing a bit of tension as well, like arriving at a desolate landscape. The playing was precise, disciplined, and controlled.

Like the Tenney piece, Matter/Moving has no definite pulse or rhythm. The dynamic of this piece is also subdued – barely reaching mezzo piano – but this allowed the listener to better focus on the interactions of the tones. With an economy of musical materials and its minimal structure and form, Matter/Moving is a surprisingly expressive exploration of the hidden vocabulary of similar pitches.

Following a short intermission Coronation of Sesostris, by wasteLAnd’s featured composer Erik Ulman, was performed by Matt Barbier on solo trombone. This began with a single, loud tone that tapered off over the course a few seconds. After a short silence another was heard at what sounded to be a step higher. This continued with each succeeding pitch, as if moving up a scale. The powerful intonations by Barbier rang out through the space and then slowly decayed with a noticeable loss of energy as it quietly trailed off. The initial feelings of strength and confidence of each note morphed uneasily into a contrasting tentativeness and uncertainty. As the piece proceeded, however, more complex and rapidly-played passages emerged with ever greater variation in tone color and dynamic. The higher and lower registers of the trombone were heard. There was power and there was delicacy. Mutes appeared and were changed with great dexterity. The piece now took on a regal and powerful character – in keeping with the kingly title – before returning to the original single-tone sequences as the piece concluded. Coronation of Sesostris is a vivid portrayal of the uncertainties and ambitions surrounding the assumption of power – and could also be a challenging audition piece for the virtuoso trombonist.

The final work of the evening was No key but a possible movement, by Michael Pisaro. Scott Worthington and his solo double bass returned to center stage, along with a computer and large speaker by way of accompaniment. The piece began with a short pizzicato passage of four notes in the bass followed by answering tones from the speaker. The pre-recorded electronic track was created from processed samples of Worthington’s bass and this blended seamlessly with the live playing. The call-and-response sequence continued, with the pitches between the bass and electronics often closely matched. Eventually Worthington and the recording began conversing in bowed passages and this added a bit of drama. The closely tuned pitches began to interact and there were times when the sustained sounds achieved a distinct zero-beating growl. The low rumbling tones increased to a powerfully swelling roar, almost like standing inside some great machine.

Towards the middle of the piece some quiet was restored and long, sustained tones from the bass and speaker came together into a sweetly sorrowful and beautifully expressive mixture. Nothing touches the feelings like the lower register of a double bass, and this was brilliantly realized in both the playing and recorded accompaniment. The warm, deep sounds filled the room and then gradually subsided. The speaker then began issuing a series of soft rushing sounds, introducing a new sense of motion and activity. This eventually grew to a roar, overwhelming the bass tones entirely before fading to a whisper. At this point Worthington began applying his bow to various unconventional parts of the double bass – the strings below the bridge, the wood of the bridge itself, the purfing and even the tuning pegs. All of this produced a soft, wispy sound, similar to the that heard from electronics just prior. When the bow was again applied to the strings of the double bass, it was with such a light touch that only a quiet scratching resulted. At length these sounds faded into silence, concluding this remarkably expressive work. No key but a possible movement is a masterful exploration of the profoundly moving depths attainable by a double bass in very skilled hands.

It was announced that Wolfgang von Schweinitz will be the featured wasteLAnd composer for the 2017-2018 season, beginning in the fall.

The final wasteLAnd concert of the current season, Air has no residence, will feature the playing of gnarwhallaby and will be given at Los Angeles City College in Hollywood on June 2, 2017.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Los Angeles

Carolyn Chen, Happy Valley Band in Los Angeles

Saturday, April 29, 2017 and Human Resources in the Chinatown district of Los Angeles was the location for the Experimental Music Yearbook concert that featured a new work by Carolyn Chen and a set by the visiting Happy Valley Band. The wide open spaces of Human Resources were just right for the expansive choreography of Ms. Chen’s Signs of Struggle, and a perfect venue for the booming exuberance of David Kant’s amplified Happy Valley Band ensemble.

First up was Signs of Struggle by Carolyn Chen and this began with four players filing silently into the performance space – unoccupied save for a large drum on the floor surrounded by various found objects. Two of the performers were blindfolded, and led out into the open space, turned around several times until disoriented, and then left to wander blindly about. The other pair seated themselves at the drum on the floor.

The wandering pair, no doubt using aural cues, eventually met and began to struggle, as if wrestling. The pair sitting at the drum had a clicker, and when this sounded all movement stopped, resuming again after a second click. The wrestling pair worked their way to the drum, engaging one of the two seated there. The three now wrestled their way back into the open space, each pulling in different directions and constantly engaged, while sliding and crawling along the floor. Eventually all four were drawn into one rolling scrum, each struggling to keep the others from moving in any given direction. The blindfolds had been removed by this point and all were in continuous physical motion with the heavy breathing of the players clearly audible. This contest of strength became almost comical at times, provoking a few scattered laughs among the audience.

At length, all four arrived back at the drum. Here they separated and began heaping found objects on the drum head. With each grabbing the rim of the drum, they began to pull and push, contending for the direction that the drum should take along the floor. The sound that the drum made as a result of these efforts became a remarkably strong metaphor for the physical struggle witnessed just prior to this point in the performance. The objects on the drum head created a swirling roar, punctuated by sharp raps as some of the pieces were thrown upward and fell back. The final contest over the direction of the drum continued for a minute or two before all fell silent at the finish.

We have all heard percussion parts that put us in mind of cannons or hoof beats – but this was much more powerful and vivid even though it was not particularly loud or dramatic. It was as if the physical drama in the first part of the performance prepared our brain to acutely receive the symbolic sounds of the struggle as portrayed by the prepared drum. The choreography of this piece is extensive – Carolyn Chen’s score, performance notes and sketches run to several pages. The physical exertions of the players – Liam Mooney, Erika Bell, Davy Sumner, and John Eagle – were met with extended applause. Signs of Struggle is an enlightening combination of physicality and musical symbolism that surprises the listener with its power of suggestion and stimulation.

After a short intermission, the chairs were rearranged to face the Happy Valley Band, who had arrived from the Bay Area with an impressive array of cables, amplifiers, speakers sound boards, monitors and computers. Along with leader David Kant on saxophone, there was Andrew Smith at the keyboard, Beau Sievers on drum kit, Alexander Dupuis on guitar and Mustafa Walker, bass guitar. In addition, three local players sat in on various pieces during the set: Eric K.M. Clark, violin, Casey Anderson, saxophone and Sam Friedman, harmonica.

The music of the Happy Valley Band is based on transcriptions of popular songs which are highly processed using sophisticated signal analysis software that separates out the component parts. This is a multi-step process that, according to Kant’s website “…determines notes by changes in pitch and amplitude. With adjustable thresholds, it is tuned to the character of the material tracked. If, for instance, the material is rhythmic, amplitude onsets may be weighted more heavily than pitch onsets, and vice versa.”

Ultimately, this data is mined for pitch content and a local pulse, and at this microscopic scale the transcribed result varies greatly from standard temperament and conventional rhythms. “The pitch notation is fully microtonal, notated to the closest twelve-tone equal-tempered pitch and modified with microtonal cent deviation indications. The rhythmic notation is transcribed to the pulse of the song. Rather than transcribing to a constant pulse, the rhythmic notation is transcribed to a map of where the beat actually falls in the recording.”

The goal is to reproduce in performance what the recording machinery has ‘heard’ during the recording process. The result is akin to analyzing the DNA of a popular song and then performing a sort of exploded genetic mutation to produce music that, although very complex and unique, is recognizably related to the original. During the performance the vocal track of the original pop song is heard, and this acts as a guide for the players as well as giving the audience some helpful context.

Hearing the Happy Valley Band play is a bit like standing in front of a blast furnace – the notes pour out at a furious clip, at full rock band intensity. The Human Resources performance space has large flat walls with a hard floor, and this tended to amplify the already powerful sounds, partly at the expense of the recorded vocal track. The first piece began with a loud crash of a chord followed by some complex drumming, and the waves of sound were soon rolling out over the audience. There was no common beat – and the various parts were rapidly played with a highly complex figuration. The playing by the musicians was frantic, and notated pages flew off the music stands gathering in heaps across the floor as the piece progressed. The overall feel, however, was surprisingly organic and cohesive. The harmonic connections to the vocal track were just strong enough to unify the separate streams of sound in the mind of the listener.

The more recognizable pieces with the strongest vocal lines tended to be the most effective: songs by Phil Collins, Elvis Presley and James Brown being perhaps the most memorable. It’s a Man’s World by James Brown had the best balance between the vocal track and the instruments, the band having dialed back a bit on the volume. A fine sax solo by David Kant a added to the close-knit feeling with the original. As the set continued, different players rotated in and out. In one piece, the amplified harmonica of Sam Friedman rose to the top of a swirling texture to dominate in a most pleasing way. There were crisp violin solos, saxophone licks and many artfully played passages that quickly materialized and just as quickly disappeared. The spirited ensemble and high intensity dynamics, however, did not overwhelm the intrinsic connection of the transcribed playing to the original piece. This charm of this music is that it is like hearing an old, familiar tune – from the inside out. The Happy Valley Band continues to experiment at the ragged edge, tinkering with the genetics of popular songs to produce powerfully unique music.

A new album by the Happy Valley Band, ORGANVM PERCEPTVS, is now available as a vinyl LP and by digital download at Indexical.

 

 

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Sarah Cahill Performs Lou Harrison in Los Angeles

On April 4, 2017 Tuesdays@Monk space presented Sarah Cahill in a MicroFest concert titled Happy Birthday Lou Harrison!, marking the centennial year of the influential composer. Aron Kallay, Yuri Inoo and Shalini Vijayan were also on hand as was Bill Alves, who introduced his new book “Harrison – American Musical Maverick.” A capacity crowd gathered to hear Ms. Cahill, currently on an extended tour featuring Harrison’s early work as well as later pieces.

The concert began with 1st Concerto for Violin and Percussion (1959), performed by Yuri Inoo on percussion and violinist Shalini Vijayan. This consisted of three movements, the first of which started off with a strong beat and purposeful violin line. The Asian influence so typical of Harrison’s music are clearly heard in this work, first performed in 1959 but apparently dating back in some form to 1940. The intimate acoustics of the Monk Space amplified every detail, but the playing was always confident and precise. The second movement, Largo, is more sedate, with a flowing violin line and simple percussive beat, it retains the exotic flavor. The final Allegro movement features rapid, syncopated figures in the violin and a strong, driving rhythm. Shalini Vijayan shaped these passages into a smoothly sinuous melody, masterfully drawing out the beauty inherent in this music.

Sarah Cahill next took the stage to perform three early piano pieces. These were found in the Mills College library and are not among Harrison’s published works. Range-Song (1939) has a slow and steady feel, augmented by the presence of expressive tone clusters that were a tribute Harrison’s mentor Henry Cowell. Jig (1939) has a somewhat faster rhythm, syncopated and dance-like, as well as dense chords that alternate with a simple melody line that effectively heightens the vivid harmonies of this complex, but uncomplicated piece. Dance for Lisa Karon, the last piece in this group, was written in 1938 specifically for a professional dancer. Harrison, like John Cage, found work at this time playing and composing for dance companies and the original score was discovered only recently in San Francisco.  Strong, complex statements mixed with more straightforward sections again serve to enhance emotions powered by the often dense harmonies and thick textures. Although these are early works, all feel fully formed and typically Harrison.

Varied Trio (1986) was next, and for this the happily-named Varied Trio, a Los Angeles-based new music group consisting of Aron Kallay, Yuri Inoo and Shalini Vijayan, took their places. Varied Trio unfolds in five short movements and the first of these nicely showcased Harrison’s esteem of Javanese gamelan forms. A lovely sound rose up from the plucked piano strings and vibraphone to create a delicately beautiful foundation for the soaring violin line. The tranquil atmosphere was enhanced by a simple, steady beat in the percussion and the Asian influence was clearly evident. The second movement was driven by a more animated rhythm in the percussion and supplemented by a sharp pizzicato in the violin. The piano joined in counterpoint, complimenting the precise blend in a texture that was highly active, but always reserved and dignified. The third movement was styled as an elegy and the playing was appropriately solemn and introspective – especially in an expressive violin line that was fittingly sad – but never melancholy. Movement 4 was a rondeau homage to the French painter Fragonard, a favorite of Harrison. While there was no percussion in this movement, the sunny optimism and welcoming feel were augmented by a simple melody and the excellent playing of Aron Kallay on piano and Shalini Vijayan on violin. The nostalgic sensibility was warmly sentimental, but never saccharine.

The final movement was clearly a product of Harrison’s time playing for dancers. A swirling feeling of exhilaration was clearly heard in the rapid passages and lively rhythms. There was a detectable Asian flavor to this, but mostly it celebrated invigorating physical movement. The clean playing and fine coordination between the musicians in Varied Trio was rewarded with extended applause.

After intermission, Sarah Cahill returned to the piano to perform Conductus from Suite (1942). As Bill Alves explained, Harrison had moved to Los Angeles specifically to study the 12-tone technique with Arnold Schoenberg. Although Schoenberg was notoriously tough on students who attempted this, Harrison succeeded in making a good impression. Conductus dates from this period and is a surprisingly credible effort in this rigorous style. A complex and lively feel nicely captures the Second Vienna School – the phrasing alternates between well-shaped fast and slow passages, without any sense of forced process. Ms. Cahill performed Conductus with careful attention to detail, reflecting the high level of craftsmanship that Harrison had committed to it.

Omnipotent Chair (1940) was next and violinist Shalini Vijayan took the stage along with Yuri Inoo and Aron Kallay on percussion. The five movements of this piece were varied, but all had that distinctive Asian influence so characteristic of Harrison. The percussion often dominated in busy, complex passages as a strong violin melody arced smoothly overhead – the balance of these opposing elements being carefully maintained in both the score and the playing. By the the third movement, the pace was was slower and simpler – a quiet gong adding a touch of the mystical. The fourth movement had an active dance-like feel. A nice groove developed in the percussion that was taken up by the violin; Harrison was surely in familiar territory here. The last movement returned to a slower tempo and the steady drum beat was nicely complimented by the playing of some light bells, ably handled by Kallay. The blend of percussion and melody was perfect and conjured a bit of mystery as the piece faded to a quiet finish.

The three movements of A Summerfield Set (1988) completed the concert program and for this Sarah Cahill returned to the piano. The opening movement, while rapidly paced and full of repeating phrases, was open and sunny. A slower stretch provided some introspective contrast before returning to a recap of the active opening. The slower second movement was a bit more pensive and uncertain, and there was an echo of Harrison’s 12 tone influences. A nicely balanced melody and counterpoint – expertly played by Ms. Cahill – rounded out this movement. The final movement was faster and brighter – like a breezy day on a sunny beach or like a day of vacation in the country.

A Summerfield Set dates from later in Harrison’s career and is almost conventional in its optimistic sensibility. This made a nice bookend to the earlier works heard, providing an enlightening overview of Harrison’s long career. Ms. Cahill and the Varied Trio were greeted with enthusiastic and extended applause at the conclusion of the program. Hearing the music of Lou Harrison invariably leaves you wanting to hear more – and the performances in this centennial concert powerfully confirmed his greatness.

Sarah Cahill continues her extended tour and is scheduled to perform Harrison’s music in New York, Boston, The Bay Area, Cleveland, and Hawaii.

MicroFest continues the tribute to Lou Harrison with events at UCLA on April 21, Harvey Mudd College on April 23, Boston Court on May 12 and at the Harrison House in Joshua Tree on May 14.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Just Intonation, Los Angeles, Violin

John Eagle and Emily Call at the wulf @ Coaxial Arts

March 26, 2017 brought the opportunity to hear experimental music performed by John Eagle and Emily Call at the wulf @ Coaxial Arts. Since the sale of the former wulf building on Sante Fe Avenue last fall, various venues around town have been used for performances and the latest of these is Coaxial Arts on South Main Street. The space is smallish, but with the brick walls and overhead track lighting, Coaxial feels like a cross between Automata and Monk Space. Almost every chair was occupied as a knowledgeable crowd filed in on a quiet Sunday evening in downtown Los Angeles.

A sound installation, quieting rooms (2012), by Michael Winter was in progress as people were arriving, and this set the tone for the evening. As the program notes explained, quieting rooms is “… a very crude genetic algorithm (i.e., a model of Darwinian evolution) attempts to put two signals out of phase and quiet the room.” quieting rooms begins with moderately loud electronic sounds comprised of what seem to be several frequencies. The algorithm operates on these – adding signals that are out of phase – and with each succeeding generation of sine tones, the quieter ones are favored so that eventually the sound diminishes. What starts out as a complex and robust swirl of sound eventually thins out, as each new generation lowers the intensity and volume. A series of soft, pulsing and beeping tones in the background help to vary the texture. The entire process takes several minutes from start to finish, and then repeats. Always engaging, quieting rooms is an interesting application of evolutionary natural selection operating on musical processes.

The second piece, necklaces (2014) was also composed by Michael Winter and performed by John Eagle on a specially tuned guitar. As described by Winter in the program notes, the “…score represents all possible unique picking patterns of 4 strings sounding the same pitch. such limited focus accentuates minor variations in tuning, string tension and string gauge.” necklaces unfolds in a continuous stream of steady 8th notes, and with careful listening it is possible to discern minor differences in intonation as different strings are added to the playing sequence. Some strings had a deeply resonant and warm feel while others had more of a twang or a steely sound. It was a bit like listening to a prepared guitar, but much more understated. By focusing attention on these small variations instead of a pitch palette, the brain builds up a sense of rhythm and structure from the repeating patterns and their permutations. After just a few minutes, hearing these subtleties became almost automatic, and were not obscured even when the quieting room sound installation recycled. All of this is more engaging than it might seem and necklaces is an enlightening excursion into the boundaries between music and cognitive perception.

The final piece in the program was tuning #3: I. Ascending (2016) by John Eagle and was performed by Emily Call on violin. According to the program notes, “tuning #3 is comprised of various subsets of the 4-note, justly tuned, chords possible in the violin’s first position.  In this subset (Ascending), a basic ‘ascending’ shape is imposed where each finger must be positioned equal to or higher than the last.” An electronic reference tone is sounded for each chord subset and the performer must adjust the intonation of the ascending notes as the piece progresses. The score consists of a series of cells, each containing a chord subset. The performer initiates the reference tone with a foot pedal and then completes the chord, feeling for the best sequence and complementary intonation. The result was a wide-ranging exploration of the many emotions that were present in the chords of each cell. The feelings that emerged were variously, warm and welcoming, soothing, unsettled, questioning, anxious, searching, nostalgic or resolute. This music is always in the moment, and best heard unencumbered by expectation. Each cell brings a new, but fleeting, expressive vocabulary – some fragments were very vivid and others very beautiful. The audience was engaged throughout, listening carefully to catch the next flash of emotional color. The thoroughness of this working out of the chord sequences brought to mind the methods of Tom Johnson, and tuning #3 makes for an intriguing journey, charting less familiar musical territory.

The 40 minute length of this piece makes tuning #3 an exercise in stamina for the soloist. Emily Call proved more than equal to the task, even while constrained by a short pickup cable and the necessity of frequently activating the foot pedal. There was no loss of energy in her tone or hesitation in her intonation, even as she processed how to deal with each of the reference tones. Ms. Call was a model of grace and poise throughout and her efforts were rewarded with extended applause.

Orr Sinay, Jeese Quebbeman and guest composer Stellan Bark from Berlin will appear at the wulf.@ Coaxial Arts at 8:00 PM on April 7, 2010.

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Music of Klaus Lang at Art Share LA

On Friday, March 3, 2017 wasteLAnd presented the music of Klaus Lang at Art Share LA, in the heart of the arts district in downtown Los Angeles. The occasion was the US premiere of missa beati pauperes spiritu and Austrian composer Klaus Lang had planned to be in attendance, but with the recent immigration crackdown his visa was denied by the US. Inside the theater, clusters of players and singers were stationed around the performance space and the crowd arranged itself along the outside edges of the seating area for the best view.

missa beati pauperes spiritu translates from the Latin as “Blessed are the poor in spirit” comes from the sermon on the mount, as related in the gospel of Matthew. The work is roughly based on the form of the mass, with the text of each of the beatitudes included. Lang explains his approach in the program notes: “I think that a mass is not a theological rational discussion of the bible. Instead, its goal and prerequisite is not to fill the mind with the thoughts and pictures, but to make it empty and poor, for the blessed are those that are poor in spirit, and thereby free.”

In fact the Revised Common Lectionary, followed by most mainline Christian churches, lists the sermon on the mount for the gospel text for the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany – January 29 of this year – so this piece was timely. Bell tones and the quiet sounding of a gong by percussionist Dustin Donahue opened the piece, creating a somber, mystical atmosphere complimenting the liturgical season of Lent that had begun a few days earlier. Soon, the other players quietly took their stations and deep, sustained tones were heard in the lower strings that added to the spiritual feeling. In this context, the music of Arvo Pärt came to mind.

At length, cantor Charles Lane intoned a stately “Kyrie Eleison” and the accompanying instruments added their voices in response. The entrances and harmonies were effectively done, given that the players were scattered in small groups across the theater and did not have much visual communication in the darkened space. The strings and trombone were heard mostly in their lower registers while the soprano voice of Stephanie Aston floated high above, a sustained, ethereal presence.

As the piece progressed, a line of text was sung by the cantor and the instrumental accompaniment offered a reflective reply. When the percussion was present, the bells and gong added a touch of the ceremonial while the strings were at times, a comforting presence, or alternately questioning and uncertain. The music was often unsettled, especially in the soprano voice, as if reflecting the tension in the text between the states of poverty, meekness, hunger, thirst and persecution – and the blessedness thus engendered. A number of restless pizzicato passages in the strings also contributed to this, while at other times warm, sustained tones produced a more expectant and hopeful feeling. missa beati pauperes spiritu is a moving and cathartic journey, with all of the conflicting emotions awakened by the text fully realized in this music.

Prior to the beginning of the concert, an electronic sound installation realized by Matt Barbier was heard through speakers as the crowd filed in. This consisted of sustained low humming tones that were fully musical but also hinting at some deep ongoing process. The feeling was warm, but autonomous; benign but not overtly friendly. Intriguingly, the sounds were simultaneously static, yet full of change and never boring. Barbier’s piece nicely set the stage for missa beati pauperes spiritu.

The performers for this concert were:

Charles Lane, cantor
Stephanie Aston, soprano
Matt Barbier, trombone
Dustin Donahue, percussionist
Linnea Powell, viola
Derek Stein, cello
Stephen Pfeifer, double bass
Scott Cazan, electronics

WasteLAnd returns to Art Share LA on Friday, April 7 to present einsamkeit, a concert featuring music by Erik Ulman, Patricia Martinez, Daniel Rothman and Daniel Tacke.

 

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Cold Blue Music Concert at Monk Space

On February 21, 2017, Tuesdays@MonkSpace was host to Nicholas Chase and Robin Lorentz, in Los Angeles to perform Bhajan, their latest CD from the Cold Blue recording label. Ms. Lorentz played the electric violin and Chase was at the controls of the computer and various audio interfaces. This occasion marked the premiere performance of Bhajan. Both were barefoot and clad completely in white, a refreshing departure from the solid black so often seen at new music concerts.

Bhajan consists of four roughly equal sections totaling some 47 minutes and is based on Hindu devotional music. For this performance all four sections were played continuously and the violin score extended over four music stands.  The first section is Bindu and this begins with a soft oscillating sound from the electronics followed by a few seconds of silence. More beeps and clicks accompanied by a high, repeating Eb violin pattern that anchors the listener against the otherworldly feel in the electronics. The electronics here are performed by Nicholas Chase on a playable interface programmed for the various sounds, but also responsive to the touch. The score is loosely organized to allow the violin to lead, and the coordination between the two players resulted in an unexpectedly tight ensemble. The violin played sustained tones against an electronic counter melody and this allowed some intriguing harmonies to develop as the final moments of Bindu took on a more serene feeling.

Drshti, the second section, has a more reverential feel with a deep drone coming from the electronics and a growling from the violin that approximates the patterns of a chant. There is an air of mystery in this and the interplay between the violin and the electronics borders on  conversational. The third section, Japa, has an almost conventional melody line in the violin. At one point the electronics are initiated by a series of buttons that trigger the sounds accompanying the violin, but the ensemble remained as tight as ever. The remarkable playing of Ms. Lorentz brought even the prerecorded sounds into a full partnership with the violin melody.

This expressive playing culminates in Bhajan, the final section. A quiet electronic drone sounds in the upper registers while the contemplative violin is heard below, and a warm, settled feeling pervades throughout. The electronics are again played by Nicholas Chase, and there is a subtle reprocessing of the violin in real-time that adds to the warm texture. It is the extraordinary playing of Robin Lorentz, however, that lifts this section to sublime sensitivity. The violin leads with extended phrases and the feeling is like drifting quietly away on a flowing stream. Nowhere is there the flash of complex technique, but the virtuosity of touch is unmistakable and transfixing – this section could go on for an hour and not be boring. Eventually the lovely playing fades away, and leaves the audience in a respectful silence.

Bhajan is an exquisite example of just how far skillful playing and computer-based electronics have become integrated. The high level of communication and ensemble in this performance was impressive, with each player contributing to the overall mood of the piece. Ms. Lorentz has an impressive resume and obviously understands all types of music, but none will exceed Bhajan for masterful interpretation.

Bhajan is available on CD directly from Cold Blue Music as well as at Amazon and iTunes.

by Paul Muller
Cello, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Zoë Keating at the Shannon Center

zoek2On Saturday, February 11, 2017 Zoë Keating made a Southern California appearance as part of the ongoing Real New Music concert series at Whittier College. A large crowd filed into the Ruth B. Shannon Center for the Performing Arts for an evening of improvisation combined with electronic looping and exceptional cello playing. The performance followed an hour-long demonstration session by Ms. Keating, held earlier that afternoon in the concert hall.

Tetris Head was the first piece on the program, and this illustrated something of the methods and form of Ms. Keating’s music. The cello was fitted with a small microphone and her chair was surrounded by a large mat with foot switches, a computer and another electronic box or two. There were a few neatly run cables to be seen, but not the excessive clutter common to so many systems. The first notes from the cello were short and spikey and these were recorded by the looping software and re-played into a speaker system. This formed a regular, rhythmic track and Ms. Keating then began adding a series of longer, smoother tones from the middle register of the cello that made for an agreeable contrast. As this second layer was looped, some double-stopped harmonies appeared adding a sense of depth. As new, faster melodies were built up, there was an overall feeling of purposeful movement as the piece proceeded. The looped segments would often reappear in a new combinations, subtly shifting the perspective and mood. Tetris Head concluded as the layers were gradually disabled by the foot switches, tapering down the texture and density of the sound before quietly trailing off.

Successive pieces increased in complexity, and this required new levels of precision to accurately interleave the layers. By the second and third pieces in the concert, intriguing counter melodies were heard against the looped sections. The variety of colors and emotions that were conjured from the looping process was also impressive. In Seven League Boots, a piece about her home near the coast in Sonoma County, Ms. Keating was able to evoke that appealing combination of rural redwood serenity and easygoing mellowness that we associate with the best Northern California sensibility. In Frozen Angels, the tone was decidedly darker, with dissonance and tension infused within the layers. Another piece, composed while Ms. Keating was staying in Quito, Ecuador, has all the images of the scene from her hotel window – clouds boiling up against the towering Andes and the vibrant movement of people in the market square below. The textures, tones and counterpoint created from the looped segments afford a rich musical palette with Ms. Keating always in complete control of their deployment.

Later in the concert even more intricate constructions were heard involving fast runs of pizzicato notes and rapid arco passages. The layers piled up, with a skill level that seemed to increase exponentially. There was no score evident for any of these pieces and Ms. Keating seemed to have the basic musical ideas for each segment committed to memory. She then worked out how they fit together by playing them and it was like watching someone improvise a fugue – always thinking a few steps ahead and in three dimensions. The combination of improvisation, rhythm, melodies and counterpoint is fascinating to hear and the appreciative audience responded with sustained applause at the end of each piece.

The final piece of the concert, by way of an encore, was an experimental work-in-progress that pointed to the future. A series of extremely high, thin pitches, followed by stronger tones in the middle registers, gave a remote, lonely feel to this. A rapidly syncopated pizzicato layer added complexity to the sense of isolation, while a low rumbling in the bass registers threw an ominous shadow across the texture. This final piece seemed to be drawing from the same well of inspiration as other contemporary composers lately, perhaps reflecting the tension and uncertainty of our present social circumstances. A prolonged and enthusiastic standing ovation followed.

Apart from the masterful playing and artful leveraging of looping to multiply the expressive power of her instrument, Zoë Keating is also in the forefront of 21st century promotion and career management. A long line of her followers formed up after the concert, filling the lobby, and Ms. Keating generously stood chatting with them for a long time. There was a table piled high with CDs – and she was giving these away to those who subscribed to her mailing list. Ms. Keating seems to have a keen sense of what works in today’s volatile performance marketplace; she understands her audience and they respond with genuine affection.

Photo by Shane Cadman (used with permission)

by Paul Muller
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

The Southland Ensemble Performs Jackson Mac Low

southland-2-17On Saturday, January 28, 2017 the Southland Ensemble convened in the China Town district of Los Angeles to present a concert of the works of poet Jackson Mac Low. Every seat was occupied in the cozy Automata venue at Chung King Court, while outside Lunar New Year revelers filled the night air with the sounds of firecrackers and cheery celebration. Five works by Jackson Mac Low were presented, exploring the interface between poetry and music as directed by random chance.

The first work, Tree Movie (1961), was simplicity itself, as the program notes explained: “Select a tree. Set up and focus a movie camera so that the tree fills most of the picture. Turn on the camera and leave it on without moving it for any number of hours…” Accordingly, the image of what looked to be a scrub oak tree was projected on the wall overhead for the duration of the concert, lending an iconic continuity to the proceedings. The room was otherwise immersed in complete darkness and this focused visual attention to the image, promoting a more acute listening experience.

Young Turtle Asymmetries (1967) was the first work performed, and this was a complex amalgam of spoken words and phrases combined with musical tones. Asymmetries are defined by Jackson Mac Low in the program notes as “…nonstanzaic poems of which the printed formats are notations for solo or group performance. They are ‘asymmetrical’ in that they have no regularly repeating stanzaic or other patterns. They are ‘notations’ in that most aspects of their format can be translated into performance. Notably, the lengths of the blank spaces before, between, & after single words or words strings, & between lines, stand for ‘temporal holes’ – durations in which readers keep silent or produce single, prolonged tones.”

Accordingly, Young Turtle Asymmetries started with sporadic spoken words accompanied by sustained tones from the various instruments scattered among the performers. Dice were dropped into small wooden bowls at intervals to provide the element of chance in the direction and reading of the score. The words and phrases comprised a fragmentary account of the hatching of baby sea turtles on the beach, and their return to the sea. Just enough of this was intelligible to gain a sense of the story, which served as a focal point while musical tones and spoken phrases flowed out into the audience. The musical accompaniment was similarly splintered and while this added a welcome coloring to the words, the power of this piece resides in the text. The words enlist the mind to build a mental image – as if piecing together a jigsaw puzzle – of turtles making their mysterious way to unknowable destinations. Young Turtle Asymmetries combines several disparate elements into an engaging experience driven by chance associations.

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by Paul Muller