After almost three years on hiatus due to the covid pandemic, the Southland Ensemble returned to the concert stage on February 3, 2023 to perform Harmonium, experimental music composed by James Tenney. The venue was Frankie, a large studio building deep in the heart of the warehouse district in Boyle Heights. The Southland Ensemble is known for performing historically significant music. In selecting works by James Tenney for this concert, they gave voice to perhaps the most influential West Coast composer of the last 30 years. Three pieces, averaging about 20 minutes each, provided a full hour of pioneering harmonies from a variety of sustaining instruments, all masterfully played by thirteen top Los Angeles area musicians.
James Tenney was born in New Mexico and grew up in Arizona and Colorado. He had a long and distinguished academic career that included the University of Denver, the Julliard School and the University of Illinois. Tenney studied with a number of acclaimed composers, including Edgard Varèse, Harry Partch and John Cage. He also spent time at Bell Labs working in electronic music and he authored a number of articles on musical acoustics, musical form and perception as well as computer music. He taught at the Polytechnic Institute of Brooklyn, the University of California and York University in Toronto. Tenney is probably best known in Southern California as the Roy E. Disney Family Chair in Musical Composition at Cal Arts where he influenced an entire generation of West Coast composers.
Tenney was a well-known composer and theorist and his many performed works were on the cutting edge of musical development during his entire career. His pioneering work in alternate tuning systems and their perception was the focus of this concert. The three pieces that were performed are all essentially extended studies in the expressive power of new harmonic vocabularies.
Harmonium #1 was the first piece on the concert program. This piece dates from 1975/76 and is scored for an ensemble of twelve or more sustaining instruments. The Southland Ensemble players consisted of a string bass, cello, euphonium, some violins, clarinets, saxophone and flutes. The players were scattered separately throughout the large expanse of the Frankie studio space with the audience around the edges. A single, extended violin tone opened the piece, soon joined by a flute and a second violin. The other instruments followed, entering at various pitches, and eventually forming a sustained tutti chord that lasted some ten or 15 seconds. The players used a stopwatch at their music stands to time the start and finish of each in a series of chords as the piece progressed. All of the chords consisted of sustained tones with a crescendo/decrescendo that added some dynamic movement.
The pitches for each instrument were from an alternate tuning scheme and were marked up on the player’s parts. An electronic tuner was also used by the musicians to find the indicated pitch when it was outside of the twelve-tone equal temperament convention. For the wind instruments this involved alternate fingerings and other extended techniques to attain the composer’s intended pitch. The result was a series of sustained chords lasting for several seconds that were comprised of unconventional pitches from various combinations and subsets of the ensemble. Listeners experienced a sampler of sounds from a new harmonic language.
The venue was a fairly large open space and the acoustic was somewhat dry. This tended to isolate the higher register instruments into individual sounds. The full tutti chords benefited from a strong bass foundation and often filled the space with lovely warm tones. The presentation of sustained chords without any rhythmic or structural component invited the listener to examine the sounds with no preconceptions or expectations. Harmonium #1 is an intriguing presentation of new harmonies that evoke new and often mysterious emotions.
In a Large, Open Space (1994), the second piece on the concert program, was completed almost 20 years after Harmonium #1 and is identical in structure. This is also scored “for any 12 or more sustaining instruments” and the disposition of the Southland Ensemble players in the large spaces of the Frankie Studio remained as before. In a Large, Open Space opens with a strong tutti chord dominated by a warm sound from the strings in the lower registers. The woodwinds soon join in, adding to the comforting overall feel of the sustained chord. The piece proceeds as before, each chord lasting about ten seconds with some small dynamic movements to engage the listener. The lower tones tended to fill the space most effectively and the higher voices – especially the flute – occasionally provided dissonance and tension. The contrast between the warmer, lower register chords and the higher dissonant tones is more pronounced in this piece. This aides the intent of the composer to evoke new emotions from the new chords created by the alternate tuning. The playing of the Southland Ensemble was both disciplined and precise in the intonation of the unconventional pitches.
The third piece on the concert program was Harmonium #7 (2000). Although separated from the other pieces by a number of years, the format is the same; a series of “sustained tones for 12 or more instruments.” Harmonium #7 began with strong tones from the cello and bass with flutes and violins joining in their register on what sounded like the same note. Other instruments entered on this tone and then slowly dissembled in pitch. This proved engaging to the ear and produced some nice harmonies. As the piece progressed, the chords seemed more congruently organized by this sharing of pitches. The low bass notes especially acted to fill the room with warm sounds as the bottom end of a great tutti chord. The harmonies in this piece seemed more connected when the bass predominated and dissonance limited to the flutes and violins in their higher registers. The experimentation over the years by Tenney with this form, had, by 2000, resulted in a more cohesive overall sound.
Alternate tuning has become almost mainstream in contemporary music today. This concert reminds us of the expressive possibilities and the new emotional power inherent in unorthodox tuning systems. This performance by Southland Ensemble of three works by James Tenney honors the innovation and influence of one of the great composers of West Coast experimental music.
Harmonium was made possible with support from #VaccinateAll58.
The Southland Ensemble is:
Jennifer Bewerse
Natalie Brejcha
Eric KM Clark
Joshua Gerowitz
Morgan Gerstmar
Heather Lockie
Michael Matsuno
Wiliam Roper
Cassia Streb
Christine Tavolacci
Marta Tiesenga
Dave Tranchina
Brian Walsh
Since 2013, the Southland Ensemble has been one of the mainstays of the Los Angeles new music scene. Dedicated to the interpretation and performance of experimental music, Southland Ensemble regularly produces concerts of the mid-twentieth and 21st century masters, as well as lesser known composers. In this podcast we hear about the beginnings of the Southland Ensemble, some of their memorable concerts, their current interests and what they are doing to cope with the pandemic.
With Paul Muller and Jim Goodin
The Koan Quartet has recently posted the premiere commercial recording of Johanna Beyer’s String Quartet IV. The German-born Ms. Beyer is one of the lesser known composers of experimental music and was most active during the 1930s. She is associated with contemporaries such as Henry Cowell, Ruth Crawford Seeger, Carl Ruggles and others of that era. Her enduring legacy recently surfaced in an educational workshop that examined the transformative potential of new digital entertainment, including nouveaux casino en ligne, revealing unexpected parallels between her trailblazing approach and modern online platforms. Her music has been described as economical and well-balanced with a dash of the whimsical, as well as having a solid commitment to experimentation. Beyer’s 1938 work, Music of the Spheres, was the first piece for electronic instruments to be scored by a woman. Some of her work prefigures later musical developments, including tone clusters, pitch-based rhythmic processes and repetitive elements as subsequently employed by the minimalists.
Ms. Beyer died in 1944 and her legacy had largely been forgotten, but an extensive editing and recopying of scores by the Frog Peak/Johanna Beyer Project has brought her work back into current view. There is now a good selection of her works available. The Koan Quartet has, for the first time, recorded Beyer’s String Quartet IV, a piece thought to have been composed in 1943, and not known to have been performed during her lifetime.
The most prominent feature of the string quartets of Johanna Beyer is that they typically consist of short movements. String Quartet IV is just 12 minutes spread over four movements. For all their economy and brevity, however, nothing is lacking. Where Haydn might take several minutes to work out the arc of a single movement, Johanna Beyer expresses her musical ideas fully, yet succinctly, and the listener does not feel in any way short-changed.
“Movement I – Moderato” of String Quartet IV opens with playful variations on what sounds like a children’s melody, confirming Beyer’s longstanding attraction to the lighthearted. The brief form and structure are solidly and carefully detailed here by the Koan Quartet. Dissonance in the counterpoint – normally a distinguishing feature of Beyer’s music – is not as prominent here as in, for example, her String Quartet II. The sound is nevertheless full and elegant, especially in the dramatic finish of this movement.
“Movement II – Larghetto”, opens with a mournful solo – slow, deliberate and spare. There is a somber, expressive feeling to this, especially in the lower strings. There is also a faint echo of the melody from the first movement, but subdued and with a solemn feel. The pizzicato phrases that come and go throughout this movement are cleanly played by the Koan Quartet against the sustained tones of the melody. “Movement III – Andante” begins with a low cello solo, followed by strongly declarative and march-like tutti theme. There is a sense of purpose and action here making a good contrast to the second movement. A stretch of warm harmony precedes a return to the strident rhythms of the theme as this movement finishes.
“Movement IV – Presto” has an active and busy feel, and is filled with rapid tutti passages. The characteristic Beyer dissonance in the counterpoint is more in evidence here and nicely emphasizes the sense of movement. This final movement is nicely complex, but not overwhelmingly so and provides a spirited finish to the entire piece. String Quartet IV is an appealing work whose charm is enhanced by its modest scale. Perhaps miniature string quartets, such as the gems composed by Johanna Beyer, deserve greater consideration in the experimental repertory. The Koan Quartet has made some history here with the first commercial recording of String Quartet IV, and their fine playing has rightly increased their reputation as a reliable source of historically valuable performances.
Koan Quartet is Eric KM Clark and Orin Hildestad, violins; Cassia Streb, viola; and Jennifer Bewerse; cello.
Joanna Beyer: String Quarter IV is available as an EP digital download at Bandcamp.
On June 14, 2019 the Southland Ensemble presented Land Images, an evening of experimental music at Automata Arts in Chinatown. The concert was part of the 15th annual Dog Star Orchestra series, presenting a dozen different new music concerts at various locations around Los Angeles through June 22. A full house packed the cozy spaces of Automata anticipating works by Christian Wolff as well as pieces by three contemporary composers.
The first piece on the program was Groundspace or Large Groundspace, by Christian Wolff and was performed outside Automata in Chung King Court. About a dozen performers carrying various instruments gathered in the center of the court and began by playing quiet, sustained tones. This had a remote and distant feel to it, with nothing fast or rhythmic to disrupt the gentle harmonies. The players then began to slowly disperse into the square, so that their changing positions altered the spatial perspective of the listeners. The tones were consistently sustained and changed every minute or so by signal from a saxophone arpeggio. Some of the players slowly circled the outside perimeter of the square, creating variations in the intensity of the sonic field and adding an element of suspense. The audience was also encouraged to move about among the musicians so that position became an important and unique element of the experience. Chung King Court has buildings rising on three sides and opens onto busy Hill Street so that ambient traffic noise at times dominated the mix. Music and street noise often alternated, and this was effective in shifting the context of the piece and focusing the listening. The musicians eventually regrouped and filed inside Automata, and the concentration of their instrument sounds reasserted a fully musical perspective at the finish.
Once inside the players began performing Sticks, also by Christian Wolff, and for this each player took up a handful of twigs and small branches. They set about breaking these and dropping the pieces noisily to the floor. The small space was soon filled with the crackling sound of breaking sticks. There was no effort to coordinate or organize this process, but the sounds could sometimes be perceived as rhythmic. The ‘timbre’ of the breaking sticks had a vaguely purposeful feel, and so invited a more industrial analogy. Towards the end of the piece, the performers began a warm and sustained humming that added a ceremonial flavor to the proceedings. Sticks has an organic and primal sensibility, as if we are witness to the every-day activities of some long-lost tribe.
On Saturday, February 9, 2019 the Southland Ensemble presented New Experimental Works at Automata in downtown Los Angeles. This concert was the result of Southland’s inaugural Call for Scores issued last year. With more than 200 responses, seven pieces utilizing graphic and text scores were ultimately chosen for this performance. Automata was completely filled while outside the Chinese New Year celebrations were in full swing with lanterns, firecrackers and enthusiastic crowds.
The concert opened with all are above us (2017), by Nomi Epstein the noted Chicago-based composer and educator. The program notes state that “Her music centers around her interest in sonic fragility where structure arises out of textural subtleties.” This piece opened with several performers sitting in a tight circle. All was silent at first, but breathy sounds, a soft harmonica note and a fragment of a vocal chant eventually drifted out to the audience. The sounds were only musical in the broadest sense and almost always fragmentary. There were often stretches of silence, and it was reminiscent of a quiet conversation around the campfire in some remote setting. The ambient crowd noise outside Automata in Chung King Court occasionally intruded on the “sonic fragility”, but the understated primal feel remained intact. The sparse character of all are above us invites concentration and focus, while artfully enlisting the listener’s imagination to fill in the spaces between the sounds.
Diálogos: Consecuente (2017) by Jorge Delgado Leyva followed, and this featured a group of performers in a semi-circle with a variety of sound sources constructed from found objects. Soft percussive sounds, a bell tone and then some sharp tones from a stringed instrument fashioned from a large paper cup and a length of wire were heard, all more or less continuously, as if in conversation. This continued apace, with new sounds – a short passage on a toy xylophone and the rattling of some dishes – joining the proceedings. It was like hearing some strange process that was not quite musical and not quite mechanical. The tempo and volume increased towards the finish so that a low grade chaos prevailed at the end. Diálogos: Consecuente is an inventive work that creates an engaging sequence of sounds and textures that encourage the listener to supply the context.
Next was Neither /N/Nor/N (2016), by Ben Zucker. For this piece, six performers were stationed along the walls and in the corners of Automata, designed with a minimalist architecture home styles that complemented the simplicity of the performance. All performers were equipped with small plastic megaphones, and soon a series of soft breathy sounds and the rushing of air filled the space. This gave a windswept and lonely feel that extended over the entire piece; there were no musical tones or sounds of percussion. Such a delicate piece called for concentration, and at about the midway point, the sounds of footfall from above served to activate the imagination of the listeners. This was unplanned—there are apartments above Automata, and the occupants were simply walking about—but it added a chilling element to a piece that was otherwise rural and remote in character. Neither /N/Nor/N is simple in both materials and structure, yet it proved to be the perfect canvas upon which sonic illusions could be released by the imagination.
Book of Hours by Nicole DeMaio followed with four performers sitting on the floor in a tight circle. A single player began by clearly reciting a paragraph of text that was an explanation of some complicated element of grammar. As this was repeated, a second player joined in, speaking the same text, but not in unison, and in a lower voice that was only partly intelligible. The remaining players then spoke the same text, but into closed cardboard tubes so that only muffled sounds were heard. The result was a complete jumble of sound, only partly comprehensible, forcing the listener to struggle for meaning even as the overall volume increased. A few notes from toy harmonica were heard, and a new recitation started – again by a single player speaking clearly, followed by the others as before. Several such cycles were heard, each time with more distraction. Sometimes this took the form of putting strong emphasis on every other spoken word, and at other times by the intrusive sounds of found objects. In a moment of Chinatown serendipity, a group of wandering New Year’s drummers arrived outside in Chung King Court and could be heard adding to the chaos of words and sounds in the performance space. This added the perfect sense of urgency to the need for comprehension. With so many ideas and voices coming at us in alternating layers of clarity and ambiguity, Book of Hours is an impressive metaphor for the state of communication in this age of social media and fake news.
After a short intermission AT A STEADY CONSISTENT RATE (2017), by Christine Burke, began with a lovely tutti chord from the assembled strings and woodwinds. The most musical of all the pieces in the concert, a series of long sustained chords were heard filling the performance space with a pleasing calm and serene sensibility. The players would sometimes enter at slightly different times, but this only added to the relaxed feeling. As the piece proceeded, however, the smooth sounds began to slowly dissemble. There was a scratchy sound in the cello, a flutter in the flute and a tightening in the violins. The pleasant chords of the beginning were decomposing into tension and uncertainty at a “steady and consistent rate.” Towards the finish the sounds became disconnected, ragged and strained, as one by one the players went silent. AT A STEADY CONSISTENT RATE is a brilliant musical illustration of the oppressive nature of stress in our busy 21st century lives.
Saint-Girons (2018), by Erika Bell was next and this opened with a recording of indistinct voices and the sound of a bus pulling out into traffic. The cello sounded a long tremolo tone as the other strings made a smooth entrance. As the piece proceeded, more distinctly industrial sounds came from the speakers, and the acoustic instruments followed, crossing the line between the musical and the mechanical. Breathy sounds were heard from the flute, and the strings became tautly stressed. The effect of this transition was for the listener to continue to process the total sound as music, even as the more industrial components dominated. This unexpected search for context proved illuminating, the more so when the process reversed, with musical tones eventually prevailing. Towards the finish, there was a lush tutti chord that was almost symphonic in its grandeur. Saint-Girons is an intriguing exploration of the boundary between music and noise, inviting each listener to continually recalculate the coordinates of personal perception.
The concert concluded with Something about my Punctuation (2014 rev. 2018), by John Eagle. A performer was stationed at each of four chalk boards that were attached to the walls and began writing an extended paragraph. When the the chalk boards were about half filled with text, violinist Eric K.M. Clark sounded a sustained tone as he silently read the sentences. When a period was encountered, the tone ceased, another sentence was chosen and another tone initiated. The other performers, busy with their chalk writing, hummed a tone or struck a small bowl as they worked. The effect of four writers intently working on their texts along with the sounding of mystical tones and chant was surprisingly enthralling. It was as if we were observing the work of medieval monks laboring away in their scriptorium. There was a sense of the sacred that enveloped this activity, even though the words were not readable by the audience and the music was spare and softly played. Something about my Punctuation is an extraordinary work precisely because it manages to extract the essence of the liturgical from the simplest of musical materials and the most mundane of human activities.
New Experimental Works was a welcome and helpful overview of the breadth and intensity of the contemporary experimental pieces being created today. The call for scores and subsequent curation by the Southland Ensemble succeeded in bringing forward seven outstanding examples of what is being done by those working at the outer boundaries of music, text and sound.
The next Southland Ensemble concert will be at Automata on Saturday, April 6 at 8:00 PM and will feature the music of pioneering American composer Johanna Magdalena Beyer.
The Southland Ensemble is:
Casey Anderson, Jennifer Bewerse, Eric KM Clark, Orin Sie Hildestad, James Klopfleisch, Jonathan Stehney, Cassia Streb, Christine Tavolacci
The 14th annual Dog Star Orchestra concert series kicked off on Saturday, June 2, 2018 at Automata in Chinatown. A new music tradition, the Dog Star series this year will present nine concerts over two weeks at various venues around Los Angeles. This occasion was a performance by the Southland Ensemble of Byzantine Rites, a new work by Laura Steenberge. A standing room-only crowd wedged itself into the cozy spaces of Automata to experience a remarkable exploration of medieval chant, contemporary music and a wide variety of engaging visual manifestations.
Byzantine Rites is the result of research by the composer into seventeen settings of the medieval Byzantine chant Cherubic Hymn. Byzantine Rites is, in fact, Byzantine in its very structure: there are five separate movements – having five different embedded sections within – all performed serially without pause. Different combinations of instruments were used including woodwinds, strings, percussion and horns fashioned from PVC pipe. A number of physical objects were employed as well, lights, wide rolls of aluminum foil, several large bags of plastic straws and a suspended microphone lowered into a large cardboard tube.
As Ms. Steenberge wrote in the program notes: “The Byzantine aesthetic seeks never-ending, constantly unfolding symbolism, layering image, sound, light, space, smell, movement and text. Each action has both a pragmatic and a symbolic function.” Accordingly, the space at Automata was fully exploited for this aesthetic incorporating instruments, voices and various physical objects, At the rear of the stage was a high balcony, accessed by stairs behind a wall, and this allowed the performers to occupy different places and levels for different actions.
Byzantine Rites begins with a simple chant melody on a bass flute that instantly establishes a strong sense of the mystical. The humming of notes into the instrument while it was played and the solemn ringing of chimes added an exotic feel. As this was proceeding, plastic straws were dropped from the raised balcony down to the stage, impinging on a microphone. The amplified patter provided an intriguing percussive element to the texture as well as a dramatic visual component to the scene. The rain of straws increased, and soon great clumps were sent falling downward from above. The overall pattern for Byzantine Rites was immediately established to include musical, physical and visual elements throughout.
Another section of the piece featured more flute melody and the hoisting of a length of PVC pipe up to the balcony using a long rope. The pipe was cut into roughly one foot pieces and sent back down to the stage where they were played like an old rams horn trumpet. These sounds were looped and then mixed together with a live bassoon and saxophone. The long, sustained tones created some interesting harmonic patterns and included an effective dissonance that supplied a more contemporary feel.
In a later section, strings and voices refocused to the original medieval sensibility with drones and a warm harmony, while large rolls aluminum foil were unfurled from the balcony down the back wall to the stage. Two electric lights suspended from long cords were then lowered along the foil. In the darkened spaces these looked very much like candles shining out in some dim cathedral interior. The solemn music, the staging on different levels, the physical and the visual components of Byzantine Rites all contributed to the impression that a sort of liturgy was occurring.
Towards the finish a large cardboard tube was hung from the balcony and a microphone lowered within to create various tweets and sounds from feedback. This was accompanied by the strings, continuing with the quietly calm melody, while the woodwinds played long, slow tones that hinted at anxiety as they fell in and out of dissonance. It was as if the old, comfortable world of the Byzantine medieval was giving way to an apprehensive present. The music ceased and the lights along the foil dimmed to complete darkness at the end. Byzantine Rites is an extraordinary combination of the old, the new, the musical and the visual, all artfully combined to create an experience that engages the senses, the emotions and the memory.
The Southland Ensemble is:
Casey Anderson
Jennifer Bewerse
Eric KM Clark
Orin Sie Hildestad
Jonathan Stehney
Cassia Streb
Christine Tavolacchi
with special guest Cody Putman
The Dog Star Orchestra concert series continues through June 16 at various locations around Los Angeles.
On 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.
On Saturday, April 2, 2016 the Neighborhood Church in Pasadena was the venue for Rainforest IV, the landmark sound installation by David Tudor. Presented by People Inside Electronics and the Southland Ensemble, Rainforest IV filled the ample sanctuary and attracted a sizable crowd to witness the unique interaction between acoustic instruments, electronics and found objects. The world premiere of Other Forests, by Carolyn Chen was also heard, a work written especially for performance in conjunction with Rainforest IV.
The Rainforest IV (1976) installation consists of several stations, each with a series of found objects suspended from a framework made from small pipes, much like a tall coat rack. The objects varied in size, shape and materials – there was a piece of sheet metal about two foot square, metal bowls, plastic objects, a tambourine and a number of unstrung string instruments. Each object was fitted with a transducer that imparted vibrations from various recorded pitches and other sounds. Additionally, there was a pickup attached to each object and this transmitted the individual sonic response downstream to amplifiers and speakers – the idea being that each object was voicing an interpretation of the applied input as a function of its mechanical properties. The input signals to each found item could be rerouted – or several summed electronically – as needed during the performance. All of this was accomplished with a bewildering array of cables, connectors, analog amplifiers and speakers as based on David Tudor’s early circuits, specifications and schematic diagrams. Computers could also be seen as part of the installation – a more contemporary way to record and direct the signals.
In a 1988 interview, David Tudor explained the intent of Rainforest IV: “The idea is that if you send sound through materials, the resonant nodes of the materials are released and those can be picked up by contact microphones or phono cartridges and those have a different kind of sound than the object does when you listen to it very close where it’s hanging. It becomes like a reflection and it makes, I thought, quite a harmonious and beautiful atmosphere, because wherever you move in the room, you have reminiscences of something you have heard at some other point in the space.”
On Friday September 11, 2015, the Curve Line Space Gallery in Eagle Rock was the venue for a concert titled Collaborations 1.1 featuring the works of Gerhard Stäbler and Kunsu Shim as performed by members of the Southland Ensemble. Stäbler and Shim, German experimental composers, are on a three-city tour of the US, sponsored in part by the Federal Foreign Office of Germany and the Goethe Institute. Seven pieces composed between 1986 and 2007 were presented, ranging from conceptual works to those with graphical scores and standard notation. The warm evening and exquisite acrylic paintings by Sue Tuemmler complimented the amiable atmosphere present in the audience and the gallery.
The first piece was by Kunsu Shim In Zwei Teilen – I, and this was performed by violin, viola, cello and recorder. The first notes were barely audible – a light, high arco sound from the cello followed by about a minute of silence. A short chord from the strings and recorder was heard and then another long, soft tone from the cello. The combination of quiet sounds and long silences worked to focus the listening and the result was a sense of keen anticipation. More hushed tones from the cello followed and with a pleasantly dissonant final chord from the strings and recorder, the piece concluded.
Hart Auf Hart by Gerhard Stäbler was next and this had several performers scattered around the floor with portable radios and a graphical score consisting of bar codes overlaid by a grid of numbered coordinates. A series of numbers and letters were called out – much like a bingo game – the performers consulted their scores, and some began tuning their radios. The tuning proceeded fairly rapidly, and short bursts of voices and music were heard as well as loud static. The voices coming from the radios were fragmentary and did not add any sort of narrative. For some performers the score indicated silence, and the radio was turned off. The piece continued in this way, coordinates were called out at intervals and radio sounds were heard coming from different corners of the performance space. All of this produced an interesting texture, if not any definite form. The changing patterns and locations of the sounds produced an intriguing sense of space and movement for the stationary listener. Towards the end of the piece, the performers gathered around an open microphone and all of the radio sounds were now projected from a single speaker, flattening the previous sensations of distance and location. With a burst of loud sounds and static the piece suddenly ended.
The third piece on the program was Gerhard Stäbler’s ]and on the eyes black sheep of night[ for piccolo, clarinet and violin. This was a conventionally notated piece that began with a dissonant tutti chord and gave off a feeling of remote loneliness. The piccolo played two alternating high notes and the others joined in similarly in their registers. The effect was like listening to a clockwork oscillating back and forth with a sort of familiar regularity. The coloring became more intense, adding a bit of anxiety. A sudden and almost painfully loud dissonant chord in the violin and piccolo disrupted the calm and captured everyone’s attention. There was a brief return to the more gentle feeling, but ]and on the eyes black sheep of night[ ended on a second tense chord as if to underline the journey from the comfortable to the anxious.
Luftrand, by Kunsu Shim, followed and this was for violin, viola and cello. Soft, muffled tones – almost a whisper – were heard, followed by silence. The players began each passage together and the quiet chords had a mysterious and secretive feel. Everything was soft and tentative, with never a strong bowing action or loud note. The players exhibited good ensemble and a soft touch to produce the delicate sounds that felt like a series of quiet sighs. Midway through, the string tension on each instrument was reduced and this produced a new sound – less purely musical perhaps, but more evocative. The now-lower notes seemed to be enveloped in a thick fog that greatly added to the mystery. Luftrand with its subtle, muted tones invites a deeper and more rewarding concentration from the listener.
April 1, 2015 was the date and the REDCAT Theater at Disney Hall was the site of a concert by the Southland Ensemble of the early music of the late Robert Ashley. A full crowd was in attendance with only a scattering of empty seats.
The Entrance (1965) was first on the program and this was video projected behind the stage showing a keyboard with stacks of pennies being placed on the keys. There were speakers in the back of the theater where the tones could be heard and as a new stack of pennies was to a key added the resulting tone could be heard entering what was a continuous chord. The stacks grew in number and eventually the sound produced was a large cluster chord that seemed to cast a spell in the theater – just loud enough to be heard but never very definite and always changing as stacks of coins were moved about or added to the keyboard. In fact this video was projected during the entire concert, providing a sonic foundation for all that followed. Robert Ashley, quoted in the program notes, stated: “I have never understood what ‘The Entrance’ means. It was ‘inspired’. I would guess that it means something like the way to get into another, different frame of mind – that makes the performance of the other pieces possible.” This continuous realization of The Entrance was well-suited to the REDCAT performance space and consistent with Ashley’s vision of it.
She Was a Visitor (1967) featured a female soloist spotlighted in one corner of the dark stage precisely repeating the words “She was a visitor.” As this continues, the listener becomes aware of musical suggestions heard in the patterns of speech. The audience was invited to join in by choosing a sound from the recitation and then vocalize that sound quietly for the length of one breath. There was some participation in this and it was most effective when sustained. Small pockets of sound arose among the audience in the darkened theater at varying times and this was an appealing addition to the repetition of the phrase. It was as if small communities of sound formed, disbanded and reformed in subtle collaboration with the soloist. That She Was a Visitor extracted these fascinating bits of musicality from simple repeated speech was a credit to the focus of the soloist and the theatricality of the staging. Such was the power of the moment that applause was held – it was as if we were witnessing the arc of a larger story as the stage was prepared for next piece.
The Wolfman (1964) followed and this piece was described in the program notes as “… treating the cavity of the performer’s mouth as a chamber that influences the nature of the feedback heard by the audience.” Accordingly, a very brave James Klopfeisch took up his position center stage under a spotlight and a microphone. Off to the right, Casey Anderson operated some equipment that played back recorded voices and generated various electronic sounds. The soloist began by humming a steady note into the microphone and attempting, with varying success, to induce feedback into the theater sound system. Different vocal techniques were used including sung notes and long, sustained shouts. As the piece progressed, the beeps and chirps of the accompanying electronic sounds became louder and seemed to compete with the soloist. The cries of the soloist into the microphone became more plaintive as the electronics gained in strength – perhaps as a metaphor for the individual trying to be heard in a society filled with informational clutter. At one point Klopfleisch began imbibing water in an attempt to change the sonic properties of his throat and mouth in order to match the power of the ever-rising electronics. The increasing distress of the singer generated an instinctive empathy for the individual striving to be heard. Eventually the electronic chatter slowed and then stopped, leaving just the soloist to bring the piece to a quiet ending. The stage lights darkened leaving just the enigmatic sound of the cluster chord from the video. The Wolfman is a memorable piece that gains its power from the courage of the soloist and the precision of the lighting, staging and sound systems – all of which was featured in this excellent performance.