CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, Los Angeles

Isaac Schankler – Because/Patterns

Aerocade Music’s Because/Patterns is an album of experimental music by composer Isaac Schankler. Three new works are featured and performed by top Los Angeles-area musicians. Each piece is the product of the relationship that develops between the acoustic instruments and accompanying electronic constructions. Schankler is perhaps best known as the artistic director of People Inside Electronics, an organization dedicated to ambitious and innovative uses of electronics in new concert music. This album marks the high level of his efforts in this area.

The first piece is Because Patterns/Deep State, with Aron Kallay on piano, Vicki Ray on prepared piano and Scott Worthington playing bass. This begins with an electronic track full of sharp rattling rhythmic sounds that alternate on both channels. Deep, booming bass sounds from Worthington occur at regular intervals, followed by a whirring sound that increases in loudness and finally dominates. Some quietly repeating piano notes slowly push their way into the texture, gaining quickly in volume and creating a nice rhythmic groove in the process. The whirring returns, accompanied by drumming and a variety of industrial sounds – humming, buzzing, clicking and rumbling – these are imposing, although not quite menacing. A siren is heard in the foreground, sustained and urgent, building a sense of anxiety.

Synthesized string sounds appear like the sunrise on a cool morning invoking a more hopeful and optimistic feeling. As the whirring and drumming recede, a light rain of appealing piano notes is heard and soon dominates to bring a welcome sense of cheer. The ominous electronic sounds, however, return to continue the pattern of alternating layers that rise and recede as the piece moves forward. The piano playing by Kallay and Ray is warm and lyrical – immediately recognizable as inspired by human creativity. The deep electronics are never menacing, but always stand apart from the music.

As the dark mechanical sounds recur, they evoke the regimented constraints of a modern existence. When the lighter piano notes appear with their optimistic tones and agreeable rhythms, we are reminded of those times when our humanity is allowed to prevail. These two states struggle for control, but neither seems able to completely displace the other. The persistence of optimism is the message here; life is never so grim that all possibility of hope is extinguished. Because Patterns/Deep State is an artful exploration of the contending forces present in our culture, and offers a powerful assurance of human resilience.

The second work, Mobile I, features violinist Sakura Tsai along with electronic accompaniment enhanced by spectral analysis. This opens with sustained notes in the violin followed by a pause and then some light skittering with pizzicato that builds tension. The sustained tones return, but are now accompanied by a pure electronic tone that shines like a cool beacon through the increasingly complex flow of phrases issuing from the violin. The electronic tones vary in pitch but never overwhelm, acting like a calm backdrop to the now frenzied passages expertly played by Sakura Tsai. The tension ratchets higher as rough, scratchy sounds evoke a convincing sense of suffering and agony. The electronics now become more animated and percussive, adding to the level of anxiety. The violin finally breaks out in a series of fast, nicely articulated phrases, as if sprinting towards freedom before fading at the finish. Mobile I artfully contrasts the vividly expressive sounds of the violin with more reserved tones from the electronics, a combination that, surprisingly. works to magnify the emotional response of the listener.

The final track is Future Feelings and features pianist Nadia Shpachenko. This opens with a lightly metallic wash in the electronics and swirls of strong piano notes. As the piece moves forward, the piano dominates, unreeling clouds of lovely phrases played with that characteristically sensitive Shpachenko touch. Although for the most part quietly atmospheric, some drama is occasionally added when the piano dips into the lower registers in a series of rapid, descending scales. Soft beeping tones – clearly electronic – enter from underneath, yet these seem perfectly at home embedded within the lush melodies and warm textures of the piano line. The extravagantly beautiful playing of Ms. Shpachenko almost steals the show, but the subdued electronic presence is memorable precisely for how much it contributes to the warm sensibility of this piece. Future Feelings is exquisitely expressive music, with just the right balance of masterful playing and superbly complimentary electronics.

Because/Patterns is remarkable listening and a new benchmark of just how highly evolved the combination of acoustic instruments and electronics has become in the service of musical expression.

Because/Patterns is available now via digital download from Bandcamp, Amazon, Spotify, and other retailers. A 12” vinyl record with a unique color or pattern combination and can also be ordered via Bandcamp.






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

Olivia de Prato – Panorama (CD Review)

 

Panorama – Olivia de Prato (New Focus)

 

Violinist Olivia de Prato has established herself as a staunch advocate of new music. In addition to her work with Mivos Quartet, she is a talented soloist. On her second solo release for New Focus Recordings, Panorama, she undertakes a recital disc of female composers. A number of the pieces include electronics, fleshing out the solo texture in diverting fashion.

 

The album opens with Missy Mazzoli’s violin plus electronics piece Tooth and Nail (2010). The original version was written for violist Nadia Sirota; this is a transcription for violin. The piece begins with string sounds in the electronics accompanying the live violin. De Prato digs into the vigorous passagework, executing arpeggiations and glissandos with incisiveness. As the piece progresses the electronics add a lower register to the piece, ending the piece. This is probably my favorite of Mazzoli’s instrumental works.

 

Jeom Jaeng Yi (Fortune Teller) by Jen Shyu is inspired by American polyartist Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, including some of her poetry as a spoken word component. The gestures in the solo part are based on speech rhythms. Speaking isn’t constant but de Prato makes clear the connections between violin and voice. There is a mournful cast to the piece: someone’s fortune was disappointing.

 

The title track, for violin and electronics by Angelic Negrón, employs a bath of ambient synths and supple legato phrasing from de Prato, often with glissandos, that employs sumptuous high notes. Mallet samples and piano press the music forward, with repeating passages and pizzicato in the violin responding to the post-minimal electronics. Gradually the music picks up speed, with regularly articulated synth chords and oscillations in the violin. The texture becomes fuller, with a return of synth ostinatos, and once again upper register violin glissandos soar over the top of the varied palette of electronic sounds. The coda features a two note oscillation and clouds of chords accompanying the violin’s final melodic strands.

 

Mapping a Joyful Path, by Miya Masaoka, employs pitch bends in places in the synth parts. Mostly, however, the electronics part consists of sustained sine tones that are varied in register, with overtones skirting in and out of the texture. De Prato plays with varying bow pressure, aggressive repeated notes, microtones in double stops, and Eastern sliding tone to interpret a multifaceted and fetching piece. It finishes with a held altissimo note in the violin and the drones receding.

 

The recording concludes with Balconies by British composer Samantha Fernando. The piece can be played by five live violinists or one with a pre-recorded part. It begins with an arpeggiated flourish and overlapping ostinatos. After another iteration of the opening arpeggio, the texture thickens in the second section, moving from the triadic opening to secundal chords articulated with repeating notes. Soft pizzicatos interrupt the chordal texture, and the arpeggio announces a third section, this one supplying more spacing, but no less complicated harmonies. Melodic fragments are taken up, breaking up the verticals for a time. Melody and richly constructed chords then interact. The original gesture is reconfigured as chords in the alto register, followed by a coda of pizzicatos. Balconies is an arresting piece on recording. I would love to hear de Prato and four friends playing it live.

 

Once again, Olivia de Prato has presented a program of fascinating musical discoveries. Panorama supports female composers with advocacy and skill. Recommended.

 

-Christian Carey

CD Review, Composers, File Under?, Songs, Twentieth Century Composer

This Island: Susan Narucki and Donald Berman on Avie (CD Review)

This Island

Susan Narucki, soprano; Donald Berman, piano

Avie Records

 

Soprano Susan Narucki has long been known as an advocate for contemporary music, as has collaborative pianist Donald Berman. On their latest recording, for Avie, the duo present a program of art songs by female composers active in the first half of the twentieth century. Three of the song sets are world premieres.

 

Narucki was inspired to begin collecting the songs for this recording by Rainer Maria Rilke. Specifically, in one of his letters he mentioned the Belgian Symbolist poet Émile Verhaeren, one of the most highly regarded poets of his country. After reading some of Verhaeren’s poetry, and finding it captivating, the soprano set about looking for songs that employed it.

 

The program Narucki assembles uses Verhaeren as a focal point, though other poets are also included. The liner notes discussing the program are well-curated. I wish they were more legible in the CD booklet, but looking at them online allows an easier time reading Narucki’s fine essay. Narucki and Berman are an excellent performing partnership. Both are fastidious in presenting detailed interpretations of art songs. At the same time, they are consummately expressive performers.

 

Belgian composer Irène Fuerison (1875-1931) created  an entire group of Verhaeren settings, Les heure claires, Les heures aprés-midi, Les Heures soire, Op. 50. The poet wrote dozens of love poems, and Fuerison selected from among these a half dozen that  celebrate long-lasting love. As with some of the other programmed composers, the influence of Debussy and Ravel looms large. Ô la splendeur de notre joie has a rhythmically intricate ostinato in the accompaniment and a juxtaposition of speech-like repeated notes and soaring melodies, rendered with considerable warmth by Narucki. 

 

Nadia Boulanger collaborated with her teacher Raoul Pugno on Les Heures Claire (1909), settings of Verhaeren from which Narucki programs four selections. After the passing of her sister Lili, Nadia gave up composition for teaching. Dozens of prominent composers studied with her, including a number from the United States. Still, it is unfortunate that she didn’t afford herself the opportunity to compose more, as is made clear by Les Heures Claire. Le ciel en nuit s’est déplié is reminiscent of Gabriel Fauré’s songs, with a dash of Debussy. Vous m’avez dit has a simply constructed yet lustrous melody. Que te yeux claire, te yeux dété features a number of modal twists and turns and a soaring vocal melody. The final song, Ta bonté, is slow paced and elegant, a touching close to an appealing song set.

 

Three songs from 1947 composed by Henriëtte Bosmans are settings of twentieth century Dutch poets Adriaan Roland Holst and J.W.F Werumeus Buning. Dit eiland features plaintive, angular singing and similarly wide-ranging lines in the accompaniment. After a passionate beginning, it ends in a hush with enigmatic harmonies. In den regen has an emphatic vocal line buoyed by a spider web of arpeggiations in the piano. Once again, Bosmans relishes pulling back the dynamics and pacing partway through, with supple singing and figurations returning as an echo in the piece’s denouement. Narucki’s pianissimo declamation is exquisite. In Teeken den hemel in het zand der zee, Bosmans uses whole tone scales and pandiatonicism in a gradual unfurling of the words, sumptuously expressed, over carefully spaced chords.

 

Elizabeth Claisse is an enigmatic figure, only known to have written 4 Mélodies in 1922-23. Despite Narucki’s exertions, there doesn’t appear to be anything known about her biography. Could it be a pen name? One wonders. It is a pity there isn’t more of her work to sing, because this set of songs by various poets, while derivative, is quite well wrought. It begins with Issue, an Yves Arnaud setting that uses a few chromatic chord progressions that are proto Les Six. One hears Stravinsky’s influence in the stentorian bitonal tremolando chords that open the third song, Philosophe, a setting of Franz Toussaint’s troping of Keng-Tsin. The final song is the sole Verhaeren setting, Les Mendiants, of a piece with Poulenc. Berman’s voicing of its darkly hued harmonies is particularly beautiful, and Narucki counters with richly colored sound.

 

The last group of songs are by Marion Bauer (1882-1955), who taught contemporary music at NYU and wrote one of the first books in English that discussed the Second Viennese School and other twentieth century composers. Milton Babbitt was among her students. She also spent a great deal of time in France, and the influence of French composers on her work is clear. Four Poems, Op.24 (1916) are settings of the American Symbolist John Gould Fletcher, whose evocative imagery is an excellent complement to Verhaeren’s work. These were Bauer’s first songs, yet they are artfully written. “Through the Upland Meadows” is a miniature drama that features several juxtaposed motives. Here as elsewhere, Berman’s sense of pedaling and phrasing is flawless. Narucki explores a variety of dynamic contrasts and vocal colors that embellish the word painting. Her high notes, well-displayed here, are glorious. “I Love the Night” has a boldness that resembles an aria and includes a thrilling piano postlude. “Midsummer Dreams” uses the lilting 6/8 feel, like a boat on water, to create another vivid scene. “In the Bosom of the Desert” completes the recording with a song that begins slowly, with a high-lying emphatic vocal line, and then moves to a lyrical mid-tempo with the voice sitting in the middle register, performing parlando. The beginning melody returns, this time with an embellished modal  accompaniment. Bass octaves emphatically build to the song’s climax, where Narucki performs the final high notes with glistening intensity.

This Island is extraordinarily well curated. One hopes it will engender further treasure hunts for forgotten female composers. Furthermore, the program eminently suits Narucki and Berman, both in terms of taste and temperament. It is one of the best recordings I have heard thus far in 2023.

-Christian Carey

CD Review, File Under?, jazz, LPs

Pharaoh Sanders – Karma LP Reissue

Pharoah Sanders – Karma (Impulse, 2023 reissue)

 

Karma is one of saxophonist Pharoah Sanders most important releases. Recorded in 1969, it was his third as a leader, and featured a long suite, “The Creator Has a Master Plan,” that was in part an homage to the recently deceased John Coltrane, with whom Sanders had performed and recorded. Coltrane’s own extended suite, “A Love Supreme,” is quoted during “Karma,” and the use of a vocal refrain and free jazz solos on top of modal harmonies also hearken back to “A Love Supreme.”

 

Impulse has reissued the recording as a lushly appointed 180-gram vinyl LP and the sonic upgrade is significant. Despite the welter of musical activity in frequently thick textures, one can hear the distinct instruments well, from the lowest notes of the bass to the mingling of improvisations in the upper register. The presence of the piano is particularly noteworthy, revealing modal comping that was recessed on my older copy of the recording. 

 

The supporting musicians on Karma are strictly A-list. Leon Thomas lends howling vocals and percussion. James Spaulding plays the flute. Nonstandard in a free jazz context is the French horn, but Julius Watkin’s forceful playing fits right in. The pianist is Lonnie L. Smith Jr. Three bassists appear – Richard Davis, Reggie Workman and, on the final track, Ron Carter. Nathan Bettis contributes percussion, and William Hart and Frederick Waits play the drums. Sanders’ playing is poetic, sculpted from melodic inventions and altissimo shrieks, it has a clear sense of trajectory and is abundantly expressive. 

 

The suite lasts a side and a half of the LP. There is an additional cut, “Colors,” which features impassioned and soulful, rather than shouted, vocals from Thomas. The two bassists create overlapping duets. For the most part, Sanders lets Thomas have the spotlight, providing elegant melodic responses to his singing.

 

Karma serves as a template for many of the musical and spiritual topics that would occupy Sanders throughout much of his career. It is excellent to have such a generous-sounding and visually attractive reissue made. Snatch one up!

 

-Christian Carey



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

Hearing Landscapes Hearing Icescapes – Lei Lang (CD Review)

Hearing Landscapes Hearing Icescapes

Lei Liang

New Focus Recordings

 

From 2012-2022, composer Lei Liang did a residency at the Qualcomm Institute at UC San Diego, where he is a full professor. At Qualcomm, Liang worked with scientists in a variety of disciplines –  software developers, robotic engineers, material scientists, cultural heritage engineers, and oceanographers – to infuse his music with ecological and ethnographic elements. The result, Hearing Landscapes Hearing Icescapes, are two electronic works that incorporate samples, folk songs,  and a few live musicians. 

Hearing Landscapes is an homage to Huang Binhong (1865-1955), a gifted landscape painter. The audio components of this electronic score were in part realized by analyzing the types of brushstrokes used by Binbong, and translating them into sound. Visual artists did further analysis of the painting using their own methodologies. There are three samples from 1950s China used successively in each of the piece’s movements: a hu-aer folk song performed by Zhu Zonglu, a renowned singer from northwest Qinghai Province, xingsheng (crosstalk) in the Beijing dialect by comedians Hou Baolin and Guo Qiru, and guqin performer Wu Jin-lüe playing “Water and Mist over Xiaoxiang.” Other sonic devices used by Lei Liang include a “rainstorm” made by dropping styrofoam peanuts in an open piano, and the distorting of spoken voices to create indecipherable “tea house chatter.”

 

It is fascinating to  learn of the roles of many integrated disciplines used to fashion Hear Landscapes. The musical results are compelling. In “High Mountain,” the “strokes” found in the melodic lines, passages of upper partial drones, and the piano storm, ebb and flow and set the stage for Zhu Zonglu’s singing. Movement 2, “Mother Tongue,” a reference to Lei Liang’s own preferred dialect, creates swaths of distressed, unintelligible speech alongside the banter of the two comedians. “Water and Mist” returns to the clarion harmonics and brushed melodies. Dripping water appears alongside Wu Jin-lüe’s elegant playing of the guqin. A passage that incorporates sustained strings follows, succeeded by a lengthy passage of  solo guqin and water sound receding until the piece’s conclusion.

 

Hearing Icescapes uses different source material, including recordings of contemporary performers: David Aguila, trumpet, flutist Teresa Diaz de Cossio, and violinist Myra Hinrichs. Oceanographers provide sounds they had recorded in the nearly inaccessible Chuckchi Sea, north of Alaska. It takes echolocation as a formal design, with one part of the piece indicating the “Call” and the other the “Response” of this phenomenon. Ice, wind, bearded seals, belugas, and bowhead whales create an extraordinary variety of sounds that, without this project, would be available to be heard by few humans. At over twice the duration of Hearing Landscapes, Hearing Icescapes is expansive, the first movement gradually unfolding from the cracking of thin ice to flowing water to an effusive whales’ chorus at its close. Throughout, crescendos and diminuendos of water sounds are accompanied by short whistles from whales. The live instruments are fairly subdued, playing sustained tones underneath the surface of the soundscape. 

 

The second movement begins with snatches of the main source material, a combination of the ice noises and whale song. The live instruments are then foregrounded, imitating the whale sounds in a response to the first movement’s mammalian outcrying. Hinrich uses bow pressure to create an imitation of the ice noises. Aguila is an imaginative interpreter of the more boisterous sounds from “Call,” and de Cossio mimics the whale whistling with considerable fervor. A pause, followed by falling ice, demarcates the movement’s structure. Once again, the whales take up their echolocation, this time in a virtual colloquy with the live instruments. The combined forces end the piece in thrilling fashion.

 

Artists are often, by necessity, so focused on short term deadlines for projects, that they don’t get to innovate. Lie Liang’s decade spent with his colleagues at Qualcomm Institute has resulted in considerable innovation and two significant works that resonate with cultural studies and ecology, while at the same time providing diverting music. Recommended. 

 

-Christian Carey 

 

Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Brightwork Newmusic Trio

A Brightwork Newmusic concert was staged at Boston Court Pasadena on Saturday, March 18, 2023. A program of intensely complex music was performed, including pieces by Khachaturian and Bartok from the 1930s and three works by contemporary composers. Aron Kallay, pianist, Shalini Vijayan, violin and Brian Walsh on clarinet comprised the highly talented Brightwork trio of Los Angeles area musicians. The intimate Marjorie Branson Performance Space at Boston Court, which underwent some upgrades during the pandemic, was perfectly suited to the ensemble, the music and the audience.

The concert opened with Trio for Violin, Clarinet and Piano (1932) by Aram Khachaturian, consisting of three movements. Khachaturian was born in Tiblisi, Georgia in 1903 and was strongly influenced by the traditional folk music and dominant Armenian culture of this remote Russian province. The 1917 Russian revolution, civil war and subsequent incorporation of Georgia into the Soviet Union were significant events in his early adulthood. Khachaturian moved to Moscow to study music and eventually enrolled as a composition student at the Moscow Conservatory. Growing up in remote Armenia, enduring great political turmoil in his formative years and then submitting to the rigors of the Moscow Conservatory resulted in music of powerful expressive intensity combined with an affable exotic charm.

These attributes are on full display in Trio for Violin, Clarinet and Piano. The first movement “Andante con dolore, con molto espressione” opened with a series of pensive piano chords that became stronger on each repeat. The violin and clarinet soon entered, each with independent lines, weaving in and around each other. Aron Kallay’s piano contributed a swirl of notes, increasing the density of the texture dramatically. With the andante tempo, the feeling is solemn, yet very expressive, especially when the violin line soars in sustained tones over the moving lines below. A mix of slow phrases were followed by more rapid passages and the precision of the three players working through these complex interactions was impressive.

The second movement, “Allegro”, increases the pace significantly and independent lines pour rapidly out from each instrument. The phrasing, although complex and driven by a faster tempo, was maintained in superb cohesion – a further testament to the technical skill of the ensemble. The feeling was wide, expansive and grand. “Moderato”, the final movement, opens with a lovely clarinet solo from Brian Walsh that is answered by the piano. Fast passages follow, the clarinet doubling the violin, with both remaining solidly on pitch. As the movement proceeds, the interplay between the three instruments evolves beautifully. Echoes of folk music are heard amid powerful conventional 20th century gestures. Trio for Violin, Clarinet and Piano is a masterful mix of Khachaturian’s musical influences, skillfully performed by the Brightwork ensemble.

Jasper Drag (2000) by Alvin Singleton followed. The title refers to the horrific 1998 murder of James Byrd, Jr., a black man, who was beaten by three white men and then dragged behind a pickup truck for three miles near Jasper, Texas. This piece was originally commissioned by Michigan State University for the Verdehr Trio. The opening is a series of solemn, two-note piano chords, separated by brief silences. The clarinet enters first with low, then very high pitches that establish an unsettling atmosphere. The violin and piano enter in their turns with solo passages that add to a rising sense of distress. A long sustained clarinet tone is heard against an agitated violin, effectively increasing the tension. The ensemble occasionally plays together, but usually proceeds with independent lines. Overall, there is a certain austerity present, even in the more active sections. There are stretches of churning tutti, but the instruments mostly take their turns playing singly, sustaining the general feeling of anxiety.

This music is not a metaphor for the barbarity of the crime; there are no long wailing passages or over-the-top pyrotechnics. The feeling is rather one of deep shame for an unspeakable act of violence that has escaped from a dark past into our presumably enlightened present. Jasper Drag eloquently articulates the condemnation of a society where such an atrocity is still possible.

Dash (2001), by Jennifer Higdon was next and this began with a crash of sound from the entire ensemble. Every instrument boldly proclaimed each note, and the dynamic never diminished throughout the entire piece. The tempo was fast and the complexity of the independent lines compared favorably with the earlier Khachaturian piece. The attention to technical detail by the Brightwork trio was remarkable; it seemed as if every instrument was furiously playing all the time. Throughout, there was a joyful and rowdy feeling as the piece charged along with a seemingly endless supply of high energy. Dash might have been inspired by the relentless ride that is our daily life.

Sea Change (2009), by Pamela Madsen was next and this was something completely different. Madsen, who has created large scale works, chose the trio for this piece as a more direct way to focus her composition with its sympathetic view to ecology and the environment. The piece was preceded by a short poetic narration that ended with “You are most loved, most lost, most beautiful.” Simple and direct, the opening passages consisted of lovely repeating lines with gently moving parts in the violin and piano, sustained supporting tones from the clarinet. This was in a mild dynamic and moderate tempo, creating a stately and organic feel. The ensemble nicely evoked an aqueous sense of flow and movement, always shifting and on the move, but static in form. All of this made for a contrast to the charged and often furious music heard in the first half of the concert. As Sea Change continued it slowly gathered momentum, getting louder, faster and more syncopated. By the finish, however, the sea had changed again, dropping back into the easy restraint of the opening. Sea Change was astutely programmed for this point in the concert program and gave the Brightwork ensemble a chance to present a more intimate sound.

The final work on the concert program was Contrasts (1938) by Bela Bartok. Built around a series of dance forms, Contrasts was in keeping with the energy and vigor of the opening trio by Khachaturian, and made a fine bookend to the concert. The first movement, “Verbunkos (Recruiting Dance)”, began with a strong staccato melody in the clarinet, a pizzicato line in the violin and robust rhythms in the piano. A portentous, late 1930’s atmosphere was immediately established in the mind of the listener. There was a slightly out-of-control feel to this that never let up, perhaps evoking the inept dancing of enthusiastic soldiers. Overall it was strident, powerful and loud with an ominous undertone. The clarinet playing was particularly expressive with a number of complex and over-the-top passages.

“Pihenő (Relaxation)”, the second movement, was slow, quiet and full of sustained notes from the clarinet and violin. A low rumbling in the piano carried forward the sinister undertone that was present in the first movement. “Pihenő” provided a tense quiet after the spirited “Verbunkos” the but the disconcerting line in the piano added further gloom. The tension was nicely sustained by the ensemble as the piece continued along until it faded away in a mysterious finish.

The final movement was “”Sebes (Fast Dance)” and this marked the return to a lively tempo and strong dynamics. The resolute tutti phrasing included a roiling texture in both the piano and clarinet that built into a series of shouts. The rapid rhythms and complex surfaces were nevertheless artfully negotiated by the players. After a brief pause, the tempo slowed and the sounds became more sustained and languid. Only the piano persisted with its darker line underneath. A dark descent followed before a sudden jump back into the rush of technically difficult passages and labyrinthine lines. A very rapid violin solo was expertly performed by Ms. Vijayan and the rest of the ensemble then joined in for a furious tutti finish.

Bartok is perhaps most familiar to us through his well-known Concerto for Orchestra, a restrained and atmospheric work written during World War II. Contrasts is a much more animated and provocative piece that brings to life all of the anxieties present prior to the outbreak of the war. In the same way, the Khatchaturian piece, Jasper Drag and Jennifer Higdon’s Dash also reflected their own contemporary apprehensions. Pamela Madsen’s Sea Change gave us the space and contrast necessary for an appreciative comparison. We are fortunate in Los Angeles to have musicians capable of performing this important music at such a high level.

CD Review, Electro-Acoustic, File Under?

No Cosmos (CD Review)

No Cosmos -You iii Everything Else (Lighter than Air)

Montreal-based trumpeter  Scott Bevins has played in the band Busty and the Bass and collaborated with Pierre Kwenders and the collective Moonshine. You iii Everything Else is the debut of his No Cosmos project, which combines fusion-inflected jazz with experimental electronica. 

 

“Watercolor Ghost” is propelled by  a circular electric piano riff with high soprano Sarah Rossy scat-singing on top of it. Bevins and saxophonist Evan Shay continue with the tune, lightly adorned here and there, but emphasizing basic contours of the melody. Drummer Kyle Hutchins creates economic, flowing grooves that buoy the music.

 

After a hushed spoken word introduction, “Lydia” combines bell-like synth sounds with hand-claps and octave trumpet and saxophone. Bevins and Shay both take solos, Shay’s smoky R&B and Bevins a post-bop excursion rife with echo and angularity. 

 

“You (nine twenty)” is an example of the groups willingness to allow the unusual and conventional to abut. There are overdubbed, almost yowling, vocals as its intro, but the main section is a sedate jazz melody, layered by trumpet, saxophone, synths, and voices. The coda has the voices repeating, but an octave lower. Even though the arrangement is a bit incongruous, it is a fine tune.

 

Bevins has said that he wants his trumpet-playing to sound like,”a short circuiting fuse box and velvet.” It is a reasonably correct description. The core of his sound is warm, but Bevins can bring an edge to bear when necessary.  On the brief “0 to me to me to me,” the trumpet begins almost media res with a fusion solo that combines both of these qualities. 

 

“everything else” has served as the album’s single. Forceful drumming, Fender Rhodes, and female vocalists creating widely spaced harmonies are the background upon which Bevins and Shay’s corruscating lines provide a brief duel. Midway through the album, the track gains additional prominence as it is featured on trustednongamstopcasinos.com, where its dynamic interplay enhances the immersive experience for players. A pause in the activities, then all of the participants return, giving it their all. Trumpet and saxophone, now in a duet posture, lead the piece through a riotous section into an atmospheric close. The last tune, “Portrait,” begins with a mournful trumpet tune and gospel piano voicings. As in “Lydia,” the group gets to stretch out (I wouldn’t mind that happening a little more frequently). Bevins explores a plummy lower register, eventually picking up the tune in unison with Shay. Ululating singing alongside a slow drag from the rhythm section ungird the tune with a doleful cast. Rossy adds her voice to the winds, an octave higher. Hutchins goes into overdrive with a welter of fills pushing things forward, the result an interlude of hot jazz-rock. The coda returns to Bevins playing in a gentle valediction.

 

No Cosmos is ebullient in its eclecticism, and the personnel are excellent. Recommended. 

 

-Christian Carey

 

CD Review, File Under?, jazz

The Song is You – Enrico Rava and Fred Hersch on ECM (CD Review)

The Song is You

Enrico Rava and Fred Hersch

CD/LP

ECM Records

 

ECM Records has begun resuming production of their releases as vinyl LPs. This is the first I am reviewing. As one expects from ECM, its sound quality is superlative. Those who remember ECM’s vinyl releases in the pre-CD era will welcome this return. In addition to production values, another aspect of ECM’s curation ethos is bringing together artists from their roster to make music together. Both trumpeter Enrico Rava and pianist Fred Hersch have created memorable releases for ECM. Pairing them is an inspired choice. The Song is You features songs by each artist, improvisation, and several standards. 

 

“Retrato em Branco e Preto,” by Antonio Carlos Jobim, is given a rhythmically pliant rendering, with Rava’s solo swinging in sultry fashion and Hersch providing a subtle outline of the Bossa Nova, comping with generously attired harmonies and playing  a solo cut from the same cloth as the trumpeter’s. When Rava rejoins, the dance picks up slightly and he crafts a solo built out of mid-register melodies. 

 

An improvisation follows, with Rava playing dissonant lines with trills while Hersch creates treble register material, single lines, glissandos, and tremolos. Rava deftly deconstructs the pianist’s material. The final section is spacious, with piano jabs and sixteenths in the trumpet slowly moving to a final, held harmony. George Bassman and Ned Washington’s “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You” continues the musical contest. Once again, one is struck by how quickly both players can assimilate each other’s material and craft an overarching idea. “The Song is You,” by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein, begins with overlapping cascades of melody. Howling upper register playing from Rava is responded to by Hersch with alternate scales in the upper register; whole tone, the diminished scale, and dissonant tremolos. After this exploration, the two take up the tune in traditional ballad form. The coda returns to the former, outside, demeanor. 

 

Two originals follow. Hersch’s “Child’s Song” is a Latin ballad with a gentle melody. Rava plays it with fetching lyricism, then takes a slow solo. The piano notes outline the tune just behind the trumpet, and then take up a limpid minimal ostinato. Midway through, Rava and Hersch perform a chromatic descent, followed by a disjunct trumpet cadenza. Gradually there is a return to the ballad texture, a countermelody appearing in Hersch’s left hand, followed by thick chords and a single line melody. Hersch’s own cadenza slows the tune down and accompanies it with mixed interval chords. Rava rejoins for a final chorus that gently brings the piece to a close. Rava’s “The Trial” is begun by Hersch with punchy two-voice counterpoint. Rava enters, taking up the main melody, which juxtaposes nicely with Hersch’s invention. All too soon, the duo complete the piece with a mischievous cadence. 

 

Hersch takes a long solo on Thelonious Monk’s “Misterioso,” using its undulating lines to craft a sinuous solo. Rava joins, bringing out the blues quality of the tune. Hersch responds in kind, comping to give the trumpeter room. Eventually the two split up the tune, creating a pendulum of melody. The closer is another Monk tune, “Round Midnight.” Hersch approaches the tune playfully, warping the tempo, playing trills, and crafting imaginative chord structures. At the end, Rava once again brings the tune back down to earth to finish.

 

Rava and Hersch are a simpatico pairing. One could envision them continuing in a duet context or adding some more of ECM’s roster to the activities. Hooray for vinyl.

 

-Christian Carey



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

Chamber Music from Hell – Chris Opperman (CD Review)

Chamber Music from Hell

Chris Opperman

 

Chris Opperman, Synclavier, piano 

Kurt Morgan, programming, electric bass 

Mike Keneally, electric guitar 

Ryan Brown, drum set 

Jason Camelio, trombone 

Brianna Tagliaferro, cello 

Marco Minnemann, drum set 

The New Jersey Percussion Ensemble (Peter Jarvis, Payton MacDonald, Mike Aberback, Paul Carroll) 

Ursula Joy Opperman, Synclavier 

 

Purple Cow Records

 

When you have two Synclavier players on a recording that begins with a comic spoken introduction (“Where is Everybody?” – these reappear periodically in a robotic voice), it is tempting to suggest that the composer, Chris Opperman, must be writing a post-Zappa homage. Without a doubt, Zappa, Mike Keneally, Adrian Belew, and other artists in the art rock vein are sources of inspiration for Opperman; Keneally even makes a cameo guitar solo, tearing it up  on “Are We Living in a Computer Simulation?” 

 

These inspirations are only part of the mix, alongside Opperman’s own distinctive post-tonal concert music. He creates vivacious, complex, and tautly compact pieces on Chamber Music From Hell. A series of number compositions, each around a minute, are cases in point. They combine an acerbic pitch language with pith and wit. “Shades of Beige” is densely scored, and “Longest, Blackest Scarf” is a windswept piece with the rhythmic challenges that Babbitt posed for the RCA synthesizer: here the music is half live/half Synclavier. “Spider Yo-yo” is a grooving canon,  “Dancing Mimic” an ebullient piece for flute and cello, and “Hooded Stick Thinker” adds synth to this complement, with speedy lines in octaves concluding the set. 

 

New Jersey Percussion Ensemble performs “Owl Flight,” with scratches, timpani thrums, and a slowly stroked cymbal introducing the nocturnal sojourns of this most mysterious bird. This is followed by a mid-tempo rhythm with a florid tabla solo played atop it. A full-throated blast from the whole group ends the piece; perhaps the owl has found its prey. “Waking Up” begins sotto voce, a s synth pad providing a modal ostinato over which soaring string melodies are layered. “The Black Ball” is a polymetric prog rock song with more than a hint of “Supper’s Ready” by early Genesis; Ryan Brown plays a rousing drum solo, then joined by bassist Kurt Morgan, and then a full onslaught of keyboards. 

 

Chamber Music from Hell concludes with another suite, the Cribbage Variations. The first few are examples of Klangfarbenmelodie, with angular melodies corruscating throughout. “Mid-December” includes a puckish flute solo played in canon with synth. “Babbitt Time” also finds the muse of the RCA Synthesizer irresistible; Opperman crafts a compelling rendition of Milton Babbitt’s pitch language too. “At the Grave of Anton Webern” adopts the pointillism of the Second Viennese composer and is, of course, short in duration. 

 

Opperman’s piano takes center stage on “The Play,” while “Level Pegging” is a series of synth fanfares. “Muggins” features fast flute flourishes and synth brass interjections. “The 144,000” is a piano solo which begins with mid-register ostinato, followed by thunderous octaves, and then a reprise of the gentle repetitions. “Knock knock Bach” is a fugue for synthesizer and trombone, a demented recasting of the second Well-tempered Clavier fugue. Cribbage Variations’ finale, “The Show,” features dissonant arpeggiations, at first in the soprano register, then in bass octaves. These two registers overlap, and a huge crescendo moves the piece into major with the entire ensemble playing a syncopated groove. The chords are spiced up with extended tones and a gradual diminuendo brings the piece, and album, to a close.

 

Opperman is an imaginative arranger of the heterodox forces at his command. His music is varied and always distinctive. Recommended.

 

-Christian Carey

Classical Music, Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, Lincoln Center, New York, Review

Turangalila at New York Philharmonic / Nightcap with Gamelan Dharma Swara

Just before the NY Philharmonic concert began playing Turangalila by Olivier Messiaen at David Geffen Hall on Saturday, the stranger sitting next to me asked if I thought he would like it. I told him it’s very different and very thrilling. Just keep an open mind.

For classical music enthusiasts of a certain ilk, a performance of Turangalila is a hotly anticipated special occasion. It doesn’t get performed all that often, perhaps because it requires additional personnel on stage (ten percussionists!), it takes up an entire program, AND you have to find an ondes martenot (an early 20th century electronic instrument) and someone to play it.  Although it was written nearly 80 years ago, it still sounds radical.

Hearing the Philharmonic perform the 80 minute piece, led by Jaap van Zweden with pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet and Cynthia Millar playing ondes martenot, was indeed a thrill. The music is full of contrasts, which the Philharmonic’s musicians brought out well. Sweet winds, acerbic brass, sharply staccato percussion and thunderous tympani. And that was just in the Introduction, the first of ten movements. By the end of Turangalila II, the seventh section, the ensemble was whipped into a frenzy, the music resolving into a massive major chord in a flourish of brass, strings and winds. Throughout the work, every section of the orchestra was used to maximum potential, practically a concerto for orchestra.

During the long and wildly enthusiastic ovation, the gentleman next to me turned to me and said he liked it! He described it as Holst fighting against Stravinsky, with Bartok poking at them. That sounded pretty accurate to me.

After the performance, I lingered in Geffen Hall’s lobby, sipping a cappuccino and admiring the sizeable crowd in a post-concert schmooze – a new experience since the recent renovation now boasted a comfortable space with generous seating and a cash bar that was still open after the concert.

Gamelan Dharma Swara at Lincoln Center (credit Gail Wein)
Gamelan Dharma Swara at Lincoln Center (credit Gail Wein)

Next, I planned to attend the Philharmonic’s “Nightcap” concert, scheduled for 10:30 pm in the Sidewalk Studio, an intimate space created during the 2022 renovation of the building.  Performing in this small space was Gamelan Dhamra Swara, a New York-based Balinese gamelan ensemble. The musicians gathered around two dozen gendèr (Indonesian xylophones), with four suling (flute) players and a couple of performers at drums and gongs. From the first rhythmic clanks of metal on metal, I was taken back to 2010, when I travelled with group to Bali (and filed this report on NPR).

It’s a lot of noise for the small space, and the sound of the percussion was loud and visceral. Once I got past the ear-pounding volume, the effect was mesmerizing. Through several selections, some modern, some traditional, the group showed off its musical mettle, along with performances by two dancers clad in ornate traditional costumes. Through the floor to ceiling windows looking out over Broadway, I could see passersby stopping to listen, gaze over the line of taxis on the street and hear the sirens of the inevitable emergency vehicles.