I actually planned on writing a long, serious piano piece but, after a few failed attempts, I realized that I’m probably not capable of fully realizing my concept yet. So, in the interest of having something to show for my work anyway, Doodle No 15 Indifferent Twinkle is the final attempt, written in about a day and made into another Doodle.
Archive for the ‘Music’ Category
Just finished up a project for Leon Kruse. He played some singer/songwriter type stuff on acoustic guitar. Very nice music and definitely worth a look. He plays occasionally in the San Francisco Bay Area if you want to check him out live.
Earplay, a San Francisco based ensemble dedicated to new chamber music, kicked off its 25th season at Herbst Theatre this past Monday with a program entitled Ear and There. Their current season is meant to showcase composers who have a connection to the Bay Area. As such, the bill included works by two local composers who also were available to give a little pre-concert talk.
The evening began with a piece by Carlos Sanchez-Gutierrez called and of course Henry the horse, an homage to The Beatles’ Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite. The four movements are meant to depict four contemporary art pieces, presumably making up a sort of modern day circus. Genghis is a reference to a robot built by Rodney Brooks, Mandala Tequila an installation piece by Ivan Puig, Machine with Artichoke the creations of Arthur Ganson, and Things that Go refers to a film by Peter Fischli and David Weiss. While the idea behind this work sounds quirky enough to inspire some raucous sonic adventures, the theme just gets lost. The movements don’t feel interconnected nor do they feel like completely fleshed out ideas. The notable exception to the latter problem is Mandala Tequila, its seemingly random assortment of pitches creating an atmosphere of wonder and melancholy.
Sam Nichols work, Unnamed Jr., was performed next with great amounts of skill but little in the way of memorable moments. This piece is meant to be, in the composers words, “a holding pen for all of the melodic, harmonic, textural, gestural and dramatic ideas”, for an opera he has been working on. Unfortunately, that’s sort of what it feels like too, a bunch of thoughts that haven’t been refined into something affecting. Hopefully this will no longer be the case by the time the opera is finished.
Next was Kaija Saariaho’s piece, Je sens un deuxieme coeur (I feel a second heart) which was easily the highlight of the night for me. This felt like a cohesive work from the very first to the very last notes. The ensemble seemed completely in tune with Saariaho’s sense of texture as well as dramatic intent regardless of the fact that it was easy to forget that it was supposed to depict the relationship between a mother and her unborn child. Of particular note was the intensity level of cellist Thalia Moore who appeared to be completely consumed with ferocious purpose. Placing this piece in the middle of the program placed the bar high for the rest of the night.
A, relatively, smaller work by Seymour Shifrin for four-hand piano entitled The Modern Temper eased the mood a bit, even with its heavy use dissonance. Written in 1959, this piece seemed a bit out of place due to its age as well as the fact that the others used a good portion of the ensemble. Shifrin’s music is exactly what one would expect from a modernist piece of the ’50s. Not that it was bad or without merit, it just wasn’t new. It also wasn’t unique enough to stand out amongst its peers of that era. An odd choice for a group whose mission is to focus on new music but ‘focus’ doesn’t necessitate exclusivity and, in the classical world, 50 year old music is generally considered new still.
The night ended with Bruce Christian Bennett’s From the Ashes, commissioned by Earplay. This was a 23 minute romp through the breakdown and creation of harmonies based on frequency modulation synthesis akin to the myth of the Phoenix. While that may sound like an overly scientific method of conjuring a highly poetic image, Bennett manages to not get lost in the theory so much that he loses sight of the point. There were truly some inspired moments during this performance but also some pitfalls. For one, the shifts between different instrument combinations and textural ideas didn’t always feel natural. Once one was brought into a new section, it was easy to forget this fault and become immersed in the moment again though. This piece also used the largest portion of the Earplay ensemble. Guest artist Chris Froh was even brought in to perform percussion which included a solo in the middle of the work, played with technical precision.
Throughout the night, the Earplay ensemble continued to dazzle me with their keen sense of musicianship. They took on some difficult music and managed, presumably, to draw as much emotional force out of it as there was to be found.
For an event meant to showcase the cross pollination of classical and electronic music, The Hotel Utah Saloon seemed like an odd venue. This place is old and looks old. You would sooner expect some ragtime from a dirty piano or maybe a down and out solo country singer to be playing here before the contemporary pastiche of sounds that were to be played. Regardless, the setting was comfortable and just the sort of place that new classical music should be brought to.
The night opened with Harlan Otter playing some solo piano pieces inspired by, or having to do with, mountains. Save for the first piece by Alan Hovhaness, an ominous sounding work ending in a spastic romp called Mountain Dance No. 2, the mountain references were hard to decipher. Otter portrayed the works, which also included some pieces by Bay Area composers Jason McChristian and Doug Michael (Moto Perpetuo and Clusters respectively) interjected with Philip Glass’s Metamorphosis, with specific attention to accuracy. Glass’s music was easily the most moving of what was played although, at times, it felt like the performance was too rough or rigid. Either way, it stood out much more than the other modernistic pieces. Of special note was Clusters, which transitioned into the George Hurd Ensemble’s set. In this piece, electronics were added to the piano part. This wasn’t done in a particularly effective way as the two never really meshed very well, instead feeling like two separate pieces played at the same time, but it was an excellent choice by Otter who should also be applauded for taking a chance on some new music.
The George Hurd Ensemble, comprised of a viola, violin, cello, upright bass, piano, and electronics, appeared to be in good form. On the other hand, the sound system did not. The mix coming out of the speakers didn’t make the group louder as much as it threw off the balance. The nice part of amplifying a classical ensemble is that it does away with that concert hall hush. People are free to roam and chat a bit and, if someone coughs, the rest of the crowd doesn’t look at them with scorn in their eyes. The bad part of all this is that the subtleties of the compositions can be completely glossed over by a bad mix or sound system. Pop music has been plagued by this issue for years and it looks like classical music will have to welcome a new challenge if it’s going to modernize itself in this way. Still, while the sound wasn’t perfect, the music was able to shine through.
The set started off was a groove heavy piece marked by liberal use of pizzicato to give it a playful feel. Hurd has a particular penchant for this technique but it never sounds overdone. The next couple of tunes continued in this vein and also made apparent a possible trip-hop influence. One of the stand out parts of the set was a piece for solo piano. It may have stood out because it was the only one to not make use of the whole ensemble but it also offered some insight into more of Hurd’s influences. It acted as a sort of interlude that reminded me of a solo Thelonious Monk performance with hints of romanticism thrown in. The rest of the group came back in for the remainder of the set which contained a work that seemed to be mimicking koto music and mixing it with synthesized harpsichord (which was skillfully implemented, avoiding the expected baroque feel). The performance ended with an energetic foray that could only properly be described as swingin’.
George Hurd seems to have found a balance between accessibility and depth. This music sounds fresh and new while retaining its connection to its roots. And, while this combination of electronic music with classical music is being attempted by people like Mason Bates, it sounds much more naturally integrated in Hurd’s work. He regularly leaves one with impressions of various musicians or genres but the sound is always his. This is classical music’s equivalent to indie rock.
To tie together the classical-meets-electronic theme, the night ended with a set by William S. Braintree mixing some highly energetic IDM. Unfortunately, I’m uncertain whether he was mixing all original music or whether this was more of a DJ mix. Either way, you could tell Braintree was a huge Aphex Twin fan. The set started out very strong with a very organic flow. By the end, maybe because the crowd started to dissipate, the transitions seemed a lot less inspired. Still, it felt like a perfect end to the night. Intentionally or not, the music managed to hint at a classical influence that culminated in a few final chords that sounded like Franz Liszt playing through an FM modulator.
It occurs to me that large classical institutions could learn something from programming of this sort. For instance, there didn’t seem to be a person over 40 in the room and the space felt much more communal than what you would experience in a concert hall. From the players dressed in a fairly casual manor, the violist having a beer during his set, to the audience, which at one point even included people who looked like they would sooner go to a punk show than a classical concert, this was an event that was very in touch with modern sensibilities.
Er, well, in a way. It’s more like a conversation about whether we should honor people like this who can, at best, inform the id in us or whether we should start paying attention and minimizing the effect of such, uh, artists. Existing is one thing, I would say necessary even, but nominating this kind of “work” for more awards than any other musician or composer is a bit nutty. That’s where I stand at least. Anyway, check it out.
art
/É‘rt/ [ahrt]
–noun
1. the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance.
That’s one of the definitions for art according to Dictionary.com.
terâ‹…rorâ‹…ism
/ˈtɛrəˌrɪzəm/ [ter-uh-riz-uhm]
–noun
1. the use of violence and threats to intimidate or coerce, esp. for political purposes.
2. the state of fear and submission produced by terrorism or terrorization.
3. a terroristic method of governing or of resisting a government.
This is what they say about terrorism.
I was having a discussion about what art is recently and my answer is generally, “Anything meant to evoke a reaction.” The reply to this was, “That makes terrorism into art.” At first, I had to agree that my definition was too vague because of this but, after thinking about it more, I’m not so sure. Maybe my initial response was based wholly on the severely negative connotations of the word terrorism. People often claim that the United States is a terrorist organization because of the things we do around the world but, if you live here, that view isn’t very pronounced. Che Guevara is considered to have been a terrorist by some while people who agree with what his purpose was will say that he was a hero. Even people who appear to fit the exact definition of terrorist, like Osama bin Laden, are viewed in a completely different light by members of al-Qaeda who would say that he’s doing God’s work. Basically, one person’s terrorist is another person’s freedom fighter. With that in mind, terrorism becomes a lot more subjective and inserting the word art into its definition no longer requires a sense of disgust.
There are plenty of projects that have been undertaken that, while often provoking denial at first, have become widely considered to be works of art. You have John Cage’s 4′33″, Jackson Pollock’s abstract expressionism, David Smith’s Cubi sculptures, architecture to some people as a whole, and the list of borderline works of art can go on and on. Eventually, it seems that people decide that these things can be classified as art even if it’s only because they’ve stirred up so much conversation and curiosity. And isn’t that exactly what terrorism does? There are times when you can’t watch or read anything about current events without running into talk about terrorism. The whole purpose of these acts is to make a statement, to make people consider something they haven’t considered before. To me, there’s a blurry line here that doesn’t help solve the problem of defining art at all. Maybe that’s the point though. If art were definable then it might not be art at all. Either way, I think it’s food for thought that’s worth sharing.
I watched a short animated film the other day that showed up on Google Video’s front page and thought it was worth sharing. It’s by a Japanese guy named Kunio Kato and has won the grand prize at the Annecy International Animated Film Festival as well as an Academy Award for Best Short Animated Film.
I don’t have much to say about it since it sort of speaks for itself, even though there’s no dialogue. I also don’t want to ruin the effect of watching it. To me, it does an impressive job at summing up where one is going/has to go as well as where one has been. Somehow, having something so visual that represents this idea makes it much more affecting than just saying it.
The music, by Kenji Kondo, is worth commenting on. It sounds, to me, highly influenced by Erik Satie, especially his Gymnopedies. In fact, the French title may be a nod to French art in general. After all, the animation could be considered impressionistic. Satie was a composer writing around the beginning of the 20th century. He wrote mostly solo piano pieces which are notable for their, for the time, unusual chord progressions and harmonies. They were progressive works at the time that, now, sound like a demonstration of how much can be expressed with a few simple sounds. If you enjoy the music in this film, I would definitely recommend checking out Satie’s music.
UPDATE: The video seems to be getting pulled from video hosting sites very quickly. You can problem still find it but I have no way to post it here without getting the dreaded “This content has been removed” message. So, if you’re interested, search Google Video for La Maison en Petits Cubes.
One of the most exciting things about music to me is finding out what will come next. There are always people out there claiming that they’re pushing the envelope but, generally, those people are full of it. So, when I do finally come across a sound that truly feels unique and new, it’s always thrilling to me and usually quite surprising. With that, I want to share what I think is coming next.
Recently, I’ve been enjoying the music of Kaija Saariaho quite a bit. She’s a Finnish composer, in her fifties, living in France. Her background is in something called spectral music, which you most likely have never heard of. There was a movement that started in France in the 70s where composers tried to use texture as the driving force behind their music. They didn’t care at all about harmony or melody, they wanted the focal point to be the texture of the music and how it changes. Generally, this led to a lot of extremely weird and, to me, awfully boring music. There were some gems though, like Gerard Grisey’s Partiels, but, for the most part, I think they were building the foundation for later composers to design great cathedrals on.
Saariaho is one of those new architects. She’s the first “spectral” composer that I have ever heard where I don’t say to myself, “If it weren’t for my interest in the theory, this would sound like utter crap.” Her music simply sounds good regardless of the fact that it’s a million miles away from any semblance of what most people would consider “music”. Honestly, most people want their music to be predictable and reassuring hence we’re stuck with pop music that’s still thoroughly embedded in the compositional ideas of the 18th century. Music that’s meant to be art left these ideas, returned to them, put them through a blender, and left them again, long ago. There’s this delay between the time when someone, probably poor and pathetic, creates something miraculous and when the rest of the world realizes that it’s good. By that point, no one even knows where it came from or who started it.
I’m kind of getting off on a tangent here but my is point is that this sound could very well be equivalent to Wagner breaking tonality. Maybe in two hundred years pop music will be all about exploiting the ideas expressed by Saariaho in some dumbed down, overdone drivel. If I could live that long, I would probably complain about how outdated and predictable everything you hear in the future mass media is too. I hope so, because it would be kind of neat to be right about what’s next right now.
If you listened to this and liked it you might want to check out her opera, “L’amour de Loin“, which is available on Netflix and probably other places as well.
I know there aren’t many people who like opera or even know anything about it but I like it a lot. That being said, I feel the need to expose people to tidbits here and there that might break the stereotype of opera being some boring, stuffy, old crap with funny singing.
This, the Batter My Heart aria, is probably the most moving part of John Adams’ opera Doctor Atomic. This premiered in 2005. That’s right, people still write new operas. You might notice, if you bother to listen, that this sounds nothing like Bach, Mozart, or Beethoven. Contrary to popular belief, classical music comes in many flavors and the well known flavors tend to be very old and out of use.
Adams is a post-minimalist composer. Essentially that means rhythm is very important to his sound as well as lingering on a chord for long periods of time. For anyone who’s into jazz, it’s a similar idea to modal jazz. For anyone who’s into rock, Sigur Ros is a good example of something in the same vein. The “post” part means he’s allowed to travel out of the boundaries of the rules that minimalism created that I’ve mentioned already.
Anyway, this aria is pretty high on energy which is not what one would normally think of when they hear the word “opera”. The words are taken from a poem by John Donne. What’s happening is Oppenheimer is combating the moral issues created in himself while creating the atomic bomb. Take a listen:
Just for fun, I think I’ll post one of John Adams’ early works for piano. This one I just like.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f3abjsYUkk4 (embedding was disabled for this one)
Seriously.
How can this performance not leave you in awe? I think this is what jazz is supposed to be all about though. It’s just fun. There’s nothing pretentious or stuffy about these guys. What you hear is some great musicians having a great time and showing you what their souls look like.