Last week the Los Angeles Times interrupted its continuous coverage of the Academy Awards to run a Mark Swed review of a recent Los Angeles Philharmonic concert. The program was all-American (unless you refuse to accept something written by a Argentinian composer as American). It was anchored by an old Aaron Copland chestnut and included a non-film score and a piece by a native of Modesto.
The Phil will repeat the same program on tour in Europe. Swed enthused that "Dudamel prepared to inject a dose of L.A.'s brash, even reckless, attitude toward the cautiously conservative classical music establishment." Look out Europe, L.A. is really gonna rock your world.
Swed's review text, however, failed to mention the most interesting part. You had to read the caption of a picture found only on an inside page of the print edition to learn this tidbit. Here's the picture. Click it to see it larger. Can you spot the big news?
Yes, Alberto Ginastera will be performing his own piano concerto. That's remarkable because Alberto passed away in 1983. Not only is the Philharmonic shaking up the cautiously conservative establishment half a world away, they're now able to bring musicians back from the dead. Is there nothing they can't do? I'm very impressed. Imagine how impressed the Europeans will be.
And it must be true because I read it in the Los Angeles Times.
There is precedent for post-mortem performers, however. In 2008 Mixed Meters was surprised to read about a live performance by pianist Art Tatum. Except this was in a paid advertisement in the New York Times, not an actual review. Tatum, who died in 1956, had been dead even longer than Ginastera.
Mistakes in captions are, I'm sure, part and parcel of modern newspaper budget cutbacks.
Here's another example I clipped from the L.A. Times many years ago. Apparently they published this on March 17, 2002 because this article is on the back of the paper. I'm surprised to discover that I have never posted it to Mixed Meters.
Can you spot the error this time?
Yes, the man is playing a contrabass, not a cello. Duh.
Showing posts with label concerts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label concerts. Show all posts
Monday, February 29, 2016
Alberto Ginastera Performs Live - February 2016
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Sunday, June 14, 2015
Five Reasons Why Serious Immobilities Is Being Performed In New York Soon
If you've been one of Mixed Meters' Three Readers for any length of time you'll recognize the names Arthur Jarvinen and Erik Satie. And, most likely, you'll recognize the names of their pieces Serious Immobilities and Vexations. Are you up to speed on these topics? If so, you're cleared to skip the next two paragraphs.
Erik Satie was a French composer, an avant-garde beacon of the early twentieth century. He is most famous for soothing piano pieces with names like Gnossienne or Gymnopidie. Vexations is also a short piano piece of his. It is the opposite of soothing. In fact it's an aggravating, infuriating, maddening whorl of unsettled melody and twisted harmony. Exacerbating this effect, Satie instructed that the piece should be performed 840 times. Your mind will wander and possibly you'll hallucinate if you listen that long (like 18 hours). I'm sure you will love every minute. You'll definitely learn the meaning of the word "unresolved".
Arthur Jarvinen, a California composer who wrote music of great originality, had many different influences. These include, to name just a few, Erik Satie, Captain Beefheart, Karlheinz Stockhausen, and the Beatles. He is often associated with the post-minimal Totalist movement which had strong connections to New York City. Serious Immobilities, however, is based directly on Satie's Vexations. Art wrote 840 distinct variations on Satie's trope. These take a full day to perform. Listening is sort of like being trapped inside Arthur Jarvinen's brain while he is trapped inside Erik Satie's. You'll love it. (Much more info here.)
The big news is that all 24 hours of Serious Immobilities is getting another well-deserved complete performance, the first in 17 years. This will happen starting at eight in the morning on June 20th (that's next Saturday) through eight the following morning at the West Park Presbyterian Church in New York City. I wonder if Sunday morning services begin immediately afterwards. I sure hope their pews are well padded. More details of the performance are provided here. Here's the New Yorker listing. (I'm blown away that the New Yorker could condense the high points of this story into just over 100 words, even though they made one big mistake.)
The event is presented by Composers Collaborative, Inc. a New York group with a busy 20-year history of presenting new music. Their press release for Serious Immobilities lists 16 pianists so I guess each pianist will be playing for about 90 minutes. Jed Distler, described online as President and Treasurer of CCi and elsewhere as Artistic Director, took part in the 1998 New York premier of Serious Immobilities. He's the moving force behind this important performance.
Serious Immobilities is more than just 840 variations on Vexations by Arthur Jarvinen. There is another simultaneous layer of music by a different composer. Randall Woolf, a friend of Art's, called his Vexation variations Spineless Dog. He has described Spineless Dog as a guided improvisation and he scored it for Midi keyboard, computer and electronics.
(This post will help you sort through the versions and performance history of Serious Immobilities.)
Did I mention that this performance is FREE. If you're nearby or within easy striking distance, I hope you'll attend. Go for an hour. Or two. Or ten. Heck, stay for the whole thing. Maybe they'll let you roll out a sleeping bag so you can dream along with Serious Immobilities. Although there are 70 minutes of Art's piano variations available on CD (from Los Angeles River Records and from Leisure Planet Music), attending this event is your first chance to hear the entire Serious Immobilities since 1998.
Since I've written so often about Arthur Jarvinen and since both Mixed Meters' posts about Serious Immobilities are among the most often read, I briefly considered flying to New York. And then I calculated how much sleep I'd lose. After all, it's not like I'm fifty years old any more. I'll have to wait for another L.A. performance.
There must be at least five good reasons why a 24-hour performance of Serious Immobilities can happen only in New York and no where else right now. Were you expecting me to list them? What's most important to me is that this performance is a significant milestone in Arthur Jarvinen's musical legacy. I'd like to congratulate all who are involved and wish their production the best possible outcome.
(To close, here's the text from the final variation of Serious Immobilities:)
Erik Satie was a French composer, an avant-garde beacon of the early twentieth century. He is most famous for soothing piano pieces with names like Gnossienne or Gymnopidie. Vexations is also a short piano piece of his. It is the opposite of soothing. In fact it's an aggravating, infuriating, maddening whorl of unsettled melody and twisted harmony. Exacerbating this effect, Satie instructed that the piece should be performed 840 times. Your mind will wander and possibly you'll hallucinate if you listen that long (like 18 hours). I'm sure you will love every minute. You'll definitely learn the meaning of the word "unresolved".
Arthur Jarvinen, a California composer who wrote music of great originality, had many different influences. These include, to name just a few, Erik Satie, Captain Beefheart, Karlheinz Stockhausen, and the Beatles. He is often associated with the post-minimal Totalist movement which had strong connections to New York City. Serious Immobilities, however, is based directly on Satie's Vexations. Art wrote 840 distinct variations on Satie's trope. These take a full day to perform. Listening is sort of like being trapped inside Arthur Jarvinen's brain while he is trapped inside Erik Satie's. You'll love it. (Much more info here.)
The big news is that all 24 hours of Serious Immobilities is getting another well-deserved complete performance, the first in 17 years. This will happen starting at eight in the morning on June 20th (that's next Saturday) through eight the following morning at the West Park Presbyterian Church in New York City. I wonder if Sunday morning services begin immediately afterwards. I sure hope their pews are well padded. More details of the performance are provided here. Here's the New Yorker listing. (I'm blown away that the New Yorker could condense the high points of this story into just over 100 words, even though they made one big mistake.)
The event is presented by Composers Collaborative, Inc. a New York group with a busy 20-year history of presenting new music. Their press release for Serious Immobilities lists 16 pianists so I guess each pianist will be playing for about 90 minutes. Jed Distler, described online as President and Treasurer of CCi and elsewhere as Artistic Director, took part in the 1998 New York premier of Serious Immobilities. He's the moving force behind this important performance.
Serious Immobilities is more than just 840 variations on Vexations by Arthur Jarvinen. There is another simultaneous layer of music by a different composer. Randall Woolf, a friend of Art's, called his Vexation variations Spineless Dog. He has described Spineless Dog as a guided improvisation and he scored it for Midi keyboard, computer and electronics.
(This post will help you sort through the versions and performance history of Serious Immobilities.)
Did I mention that this performance is FREE. If you're nearby or within easy striking distance, I hope you'll attend. Go for an hour. Or two. Or ten. Heck, stay for the whole thing. Maybe they'll let you roll out a sleeping bag so you can dream along with Serious Immobilities. Although there are 70 minutes of Art's piano variations available on CD (from Los Angeles River Records and from Leisure Planet Music), attending this event is your first chance to hear the entire Serious Immobilities since 1998.
Since I've written so often about Arthur Jarvinen and since both Mixed Meters' posts about Serious Immobilities are among the most often read, I briefly considered flying to New York. And then I calculated how much sleep I'd lose. After all, it's not like I'm fifty years old any more. I'll have to wait for another L.A. performance.
There must be at least five good reasons why a 24-hour performance of Serious Immobilities can happen only in New York and no where else right now. Were you expecting me to list them? What's most important to me is that this performance is a significant milestone in Arthur Jarvinen's musical legacy. I'd like to congratulate all who are involved and wish their production the best possible outcome.
(To close, here's the text from the final variation of Serious Immobilities:)
You aren't likely to do much that's predicated on the depth of a literary fragment, and such a short one at that.
With your total lack of respect for it, and the extent to which you despise it, you were always certain there was ample justification for its moderate brevity, the audiences' not wanting to keep it short notwithstanding.
Denying the possibility of any motif occupying a full twenty-four hours is of course absolutely necessary, although falling even one second short would disqualify it anyway.
As you leave this performance perhaps you can't make up your mind whether or not to plagiarize several rather short works for mixed ensembles, none of which you can actually recall, such as any of those by this composer.
None of them are merely crude approximations of necessarily short motifs, with even one unique, fully-realized idea strictly prohibited.
Serious Immobilities is not deconstructed only from rests and single notes.
You obliterated any new sense of timelessness with widely separated silences; so why Vexations?
And you didn't introduce even one unique event.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Repercussion Unit at Feed the Weed
We're having a serious drought in California, so when it rained here in Pasadena last Saturday most everyone was pleased. The only possible exceptions were the members of Newtown, a local alternative arts organization, who had gone to a lot of work to plan an outdoor fundraiser for that day.
True Pasadenans will immediately associate the name Newtown with Oldtown, the local trendient shopping and eating district, more properly called "Old Pasadena". Newtown's motto is a persistent weed in the garden of art. The fundraiser was called Feed the Weed.
Since music was a large part of the offering of Feed the Weed and since I was likely to see a number of friends, the rain didn't stop me from attending.
Of course I took some pictures. And if you hang on to the end of this post, there's even a video of the Repercussion Unit!
The setting was a large already-well-watered yard of a Newtown supporter's home. Various fruits were strewn on the grass for anyone who wanted to play melon soccer or possibly citrus lawn bowling. Eventually the rain lessened. The sun made a brief appearance - for like five minutes. The show went on, more or less as planned.
Richard Amromin, whom I have known for nearly 40 years, is the out-going artistic director of Newtown. Richard was involved with the Independent Composers Association back "in the day". You can see several more pictures of him in the MM post Second Second Story Series - Portraits by Robert Jacobs, one of several articles about the ICA from 2008.
The musical events at Feed the Weed included the group Non Credo, fronted by Kira Vollman and Joe Berardi. There was also a tribute to Arthur Jarvinen performed by Jack Vees, Miroslav Tadić, and M.B.Gordy. Pianist Irene Gregorio-Stoup also performed some of Jarvinen's Serious Immobilities plus other works by Rima Snyder and Eric Satie.
The remaining musical ensemble of the afternoon was the Repercussion Unit. I've written twice about the R-Unit: one was in my obituary for long-time CalArts percussion teacher and Unit founder John Bergamo and the other was about A Tribute to John Bergamo held last year at CalArts.
At Feed the Weed the Repercussion Unit consisted of three founding members Larry Stein, Gregg Johnson and James Hildebrandt plus newcomer Amy Knoles. They dedicated their performance to Bergamo and to Lucky Mosko, another Unit original member who passed away in 2005. The performance started with instrument building. Each player constructed their own cajon. (Cajons are wooden boxes that people who are impervious to pain sit on and slap with their hands.)
I happened to shoot some video clips of their carpentry work and also most of a performance of Wake for Charles Ives from Four Pieces for Drum Quartet by composer James Tenney. Tenney was another respected CalArts composition faculty member who died in 2006.
I assembled the video clips into this:
At 2'03" of the video there's a short cut-away showing Robert Fernandez and Dee McMillan. She's the one in the red hat. At the very beginning of the video you can hear Bob's voice saying "At least my wallet stayed dry." Bob and M.B. Gordy were featured in this recent post.
Another participant in Feed the Weed about whom I've written here at Mixed Meters is Susan Braig.
True Pasadenans will immediately associate the name Newtown with Oldtown, the local trendient shopping and eating district, more properly called "Old Pasadena". Newtown's motto is a persistent weed in the garden of art. The fundraiser was called Feed the Weed.
Since music was a large part of the offering of Feed the Weed and since I was likely to see a number of friends, the rain didn't stop me from attending.
Of course I took some pictures. And if you hang on to the end of this post, there's even a video of the Repercussion Unit!
The setting was a large already-well-watered yard of a Newtown supporter's home. Various fruits were strewn on the grass for anyone who wanted to play melon soccer or possibly citrus lawn bowling. Eventually the rain lessened. The sun made a brief appearance - for like five minutes. The show went on, more or less as planned.
Richard Amromin, whom I have known for nearly 40 years, is the out-going artistic director of Newtown. Richard was involved with the Independent Composers Association back "in the day". You can see several more pictures of him in the MM post Second Second Story Series - Portraits by Robert Jacobs, one of several articles about the ICA from 2008.
The musical events at Feed the Weed included the group Non Credo, fronted by Kira Vollman and Joe Berardi. There was also a tribute to Arthur Jarvinen performed by Jack Vees, Miroslav Tadić, and M.B.Gordy. Pianist Irene Gregorio-Stoup also performed some of Jarvinen's Serious Immobilities plus other works by Rima Snyder and Eric Satie.
The remaining musical ensemble of the afternoon was the Repercussion Unit. I've written twice about the R-Unit: one was in my obituary for long-time CalArts percussion teacher and Unit founder John Bergamo and the other was about A Tribute to John Bergamo held last year at CalArts.
At Feed the Weed the Repercussion Unit consisted of three founding members Larry Stein, Gregg Johnson and James Hildebrandt plus newcomer Amy Knoles. They dedicated their performance to Bergamo and to Lucky Mosko, another Unit original member who passed away in 2005. The performance started with instrument building. Each player constructed their own cajon. (Cajons are wooden boxes that people who are impervious to pain sit on and slap with their hands.)
I happened to shoot some video clips of their carpentry work and also most of a performance of Wake for Charles Ives from Four Pieces for Drum Quartet by composer James Tenney. Tenney was another respected CalArts composition faculty member who died in 2006.
I assembled the video clips into this:
At 2'03" of the video there's a short cut-away showing Robert Fernandez and Dee McMillan. She's the one in the red hat. At the very beginning of the video you can hear Bob's voice saying "At least my wallet stayed dry." Bob and M.B. Gordy were featured in this recent post.
Another participant in Feed the Weed about whom I've written here at Mixed Meters is Susan Braig.
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Last Day of the Month Posts
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Sunday, October 19, 2014
A Tribute to John Bergamo
One year ago composer, percussionist and CalArts faculty member John Bergamo passed away. He was a talented and inspiring man. Back then I wrote about him in this post.
Last night CalArts held a tribute to John. It took the form of a concert on which all the music was John's. Most of the performers were John's students. Many other alumni were in attendance. It was a pleasure for me to see and talk to those people who shared the same formative experiences which shaped my own musical life.
Naturally, many pictures were taken.
The concert took place at the Wild Beast, an outdoor high-tech performance space. (Click on pictures for enlargements.)
Percussionists play multiple instruments - mallets, drums, gongs. In John Bergamo's world just about anything could become a percussion instrument. For example, the intermission feature, called On the Edge, was performed on a large metal aircraft engine cowling set up in front of the stage. Look for it in the first picture.
The caution sign in the next picture is really an instrument, a wobble board played with virtuoso bravura by Gregg Johnson. (I don't think Gregg and David are related, in spite of both being percussionists and having a common surname.)
The concert began with the CalArts Percussion Ensemble, i.e. current students. They played John's early 1963 modernist piece entitled Interactions. It has a modernist title to match. Interestingly and positively, all the performers were women. Percussion has been a traditionally male bastion. I guess the future comes to CalArts first.
Two solo mallet works were on the program. Three Pieces for the Winter Solstice for vibraphone (1963), performed by Jeff Brenner, is very coloristic and familiar to me. Five Short Pieces for Marimba, played by Justin DeHart, was written in 2000 in a much more virtuostic manner. First time I had heard it.
Here's an important fact about all-percussion concerts: it takes great amounts of energy and time to move and adjust the instruments. Half way through the first half of this concert such a reorganization took place. I made a video of this non-musical portion of the program. Why I wonder. The change was done very efficiently in a soothing blue light; it's like watching a cheap noir movie of avant-garde dance.
The voice you'll hear is that of David Rosenboom, a composer/performer who makes his living as Dean of the Herb Alpert School of Music at the California Institute of the Arts. His job last night was to talk to the audience about John Bergamo during this particular transition. David chose to take the very long view, putting John's career as a musician in the context of five millennia of human musical history. He also talked about snare drum rolls and Christmas music albums. Meanwhile, the stage is awash with moving performers and stage hands. Or, if you will, imagine David Rosenboom is performing the part of John Cage, lecturing as a Merce Cunningham-like dance company performs randomly behind him.
I think David Rosenboom's assertion that the era of the imperial composer, one who writes but does not perform music, is coming to an end after 250 years is probably a bit premature. John Bergamo was definitely a composer and performer, but then again so were Mozart and Beethoven.
Here's my favorite frame of the video. This was a high tech concert, tastefully over amplified.
In the video they are setting up for a performance by The Repercussion Unit, an all-percussion rock band founded by John Bergamo and a bunch of other friends of mine way back in 1976. The previous post about John has video from an R-Unit tour of Germany.
Among my pictures of the performance were several long sequences of nearly identical shots. I was trying to get one where focus was right, the performers weren't moving too much and something interesting was going on. As it turned out, these shots made for better animated gifs than for still pictures. You'll have to imagine the music, but you can definitely get a feel for the energy of the performances.
First gif is the Repercussion Unit - left to right Chris Garcia (seated), Jimmy Hildebrant, David Johnson, Larry Stein, (you can see just the head of) Charles Levin, Gregg Johnson, Amy Knoles. And way on the right is one brief flash of the arm of M.B. Gordy. Sorry, M.B.
On the second half of the concert there was hand drumming, one of John Bergamo's specialities. Another performing group, also founded by John, is called the Hands On'Semble. The members are Randy Gloss, Andrew Grueschow and Austin Wrinkle - also John's students. Since they went to CalArts during a different decade than I, I'm not sure which face goes with which name or what to call most of their instruments. They played magnificently along with two colleagues of John's, Swapan Chaudhuri and Houman Poumehdi. The piece is called Shradhanjali - a Hindustani word which means "thanks to the teachers".
The finale of the concert was John Bergamo's most well-known composition, Piru Bol. You can hear many different versions of Piru Bole on YouTube. (The program says "Bol", You Tube says "Bole". You decide.) In any case Piru is a city near CalArts where John lived for many years. Last night it was performed by a large group of percussionists - I count 16 in this picture.
For a while I focused on taking pictures of one quartet - Amy, Larry, Gregg standing and David seated - who had posed themselves artfully together. Everyone else on stage was putting out this much energy at the same time.
The hand drumming performances were, for me, one of those magical musical moments. I could hear something great happening without knowing what it was exactly or how it was being done. I was experiencing the power of music. It is a strong primal power. It is the reason music has a 5000 year history and the reason music appears in every culture. It is the power that long ago made me want to become a musician and, somewhat later, want to study at CalArts.
What I learned by studying music, alas, is that knowing too much about it can make you lose touch with the magic. Friends of mine have often heard me complain about my education at CalArts. Although my entire career is based on what I learned at CalArts and the people I met there, I've never really felt satisfied with my education.
Last night, as this performance was coming to an end, I felt tears in my eyes and recognized a strange idea. I actually thought to myself "Gee, I'm glad I went to CalArts". There's a first time for everything. And indeed I am glad I attended CalArts, at least on that certain metaphysical magical musical level that I only get to touch on rare occasions. The people on the stage of the Wild Beast let me channel a wonderful musical energy one more time. I hope it happens to me many more times. I hope it happens to you too.
It was a tribute concert and so there were speeches. Many of the speakers talked of how John Bergamo had touched their lives through music. And I knew exactly what they were talking about because John had touched mine as well. And last night he did it one more time. The spirit of John Bergamo was on stage at the Wild Beast during this concert. So was his picture.
And then the concert ended. You know what they say - every high must have its low. I walked into the CalArts building, looking for the reception, and confronted a typical CalArts hallway.
Alone in the endless whiteness of hallway hell, you easily can believe that Walt Disney really is buried somewhere under the building. It's an ART school, a DESIGN school, a MUSIC school, but the architecture can be simply antiseptic. A little interior decoration - some art on the walls - couldn't hurt, could it? A sound environment? Something.
Then at the reception, more pictures were taken. I like taking pictures of pictures being taken. Here's one more.
Over the years I've written a number of posts that are tagged CalArts. Click here to read them all. This is the third time I've ever mentioned David Rosenboom.
Last night CalArts held a tribute to John. It took the form of a concert on which all the music was John's. Most of the performers were John's students. Many other alumni were in attendance. It was a pleasure for me to see and talk to those people who shared the same formative experiences which shaped my own musical life.
Naturally, many pictures were taken.
The concert took place at the Wild Beast, an outdoor high-tech performance space. (Click on pictures for enlargements.)
Percussionists play multiple instruments - mallets, drums, gongs. In John Bergamo's world just about anything could become a percussion instrument. For example, the intermission feature, called On the Edge, was performed on a large metal aircraft engine cowling set up in front of the stage. Look for it in the first picture.
The caution sign in the next picture is really an instrument, a wobble board played with virtuoso bravura by Gregg Johnson. (I don't think Gregg and David are related, in spite of both being percussionists and having a common surname.)
The concert began with the CalArts Percussion Ensemble, i.e. current students. They played John's early 1963 modernist piece entitled Interactions. It has a modernist title to match. Interestingly and positively, all the performers were women. Percussion has been a traditionally male bastion. I guess the future comes to CalArts first.
Two solo mallet works were on the program. Three Pieces for the Winter Solstice for vibraphone (1963), performed by Jeff Brenner, is very coloristic and familiar to me. Five Short Pieces for Marimba, played by Justin DeHart, was written in 2000 in a much more virtuostic manner. First time I had heard it.
Here's an important fact about all-percussion concerts: it takes great amounts of energy and time to move and adjust the instruments. Half way through the first half of this concert such a reorganization took place. I made a video of this non-musical portion of the program. Why I wonder. The change was done very efficiently in a soothing blue light; it's like watching a cheap noir movie of avant-garde dance.
The voice you'll hear is that of David Rosenboom, a composer/performer who makes his living as Dean of the Herb Alpert School of Music at the California Institute of the Arts. His job last night was to talk to the audience about John Bergamo during this particular transition. David chose to take the very long view, putting John's career as a musician in the context of five millennia of human musical history. He also talked about snare drum rolls and Christmas music albums. Meanwhile, the stage is awash with moving performers and stage hands. Or, if you will, imagine David Rosenboom is performing the part of John Cage, lecturing as a Merce Cunningham-like dance company performs randomly behind him.
I think David Rosenboom's assertion that the era of the imperial composer, one who writes but does not perform music, is coming to an end after 250 years is probably a bit premature. John Bergamo was definitely a composer and performer, but then again so were Mozart and Beethoven.
Here's my favorite frame of the video. This was a high tech concert, tastefully over amplified.
In the video they are setting up for a performance by The Repercussion Unit, an all-percussion rock band founded by John Bergamo and a bunch of other friends of mine way back in 1976. The previous post about John has video from an R-Unit tour of Germany.
Among my pictures of the performance were several long sequences of nearly identical shots. I was trying to get one where focus was right, the performers weren't moving too much and something interesting was going on. As it turned out, these shots made for better animated gifs than for still pictures. You'll have to imagine the music, but you can definitely get a feel for the energy of the performances.
First gif is the Repercussion Unit - left to right Chris Garcia (seated), Jimmy Hildebrant, David Johnson, Larry Stein, (you can see just the head of) Charles Levin, Gregg Johnson, Amy Knoles. And way on the right is one brief flash of the arm of M.B. Gordy. Sorry, M.B.
On the second half of the concert there was hand drumming, one of John Bergamo's specialities. Another performing group, also founded by John, is called the Hands On'Semble. The members are Randy Gloss, Andrew Grueschow and Austin Wrinkle - also John's students. Since they went to CalArts during a different decade than I, I'm not sure which face goes with which name or what to call most of their instruments. They played magnificently along with two colleagues of John's, Swapan Chaudhuri and Houman Poumehdi. The piece is called Shradhanjali - a Hindustani word which means "thanks to the teachers".
The finale of the concert was John Bergamo's most well-known composition, Piru Bol. You can hear many different versions of Piru Bole on YouTube. (The program says "Bol", You Tube says "Bole". You decide.) In any case Piru is a city near CalArts where John lived for many years. Last night it was performed by a large group of percussionists - I count 16 in this picture.
For a while I focused on taking pictures of one quartet - Amy, Larry, Gregg standing and David seated - who had posed themselves artfully together. Everyone else on stage was putting out this much energy at the same time.
The hand drumming performances were, for me, one of those magical musical moments. I could hear something great happening without knowing what it was exactly or how it was being done. I was experiencing the power of music. It is a strong primal power. It is the reason music has a 5000 year history and the reason music appears in every culture. It is the power that long ago made me want to become a musician and, somewhat later, want to study at CalArts.
What I learned by studying music, alas, is that knowing too much about it can make you lose touch with the magic. Friends of mine have often heard me complain about my education at CalArts. Although my entire career is based on what I learned at CalArts and the people I met there, I've never really felt satisfied with my education.
Last night, as this performance was coming to an end, I felt tears in my eyes and recognized a strange idea. I actually thought to myself "Gee, I'm glad I went to CalArts". There's a first time for everything. And indeed I am glad I attended CalArts, at least on that certain metaphysical magical musical level that I only get to touch on rare occasions. The people on the stage of the Wild Beast let me channel a wonderful musical energy one more time. I hope it happens to me many more times. I hope it happens to you too.
It was a tribute concert and so there were speeches. Many of the speakers talked of how John Bergamo had touched their lives through music. And I knew exactly what they were talking about because John had touched mine as well. And last night he did it one more time. The spirit of John Bergamo was on stage at the Wild Beast during this concert. So was his picture.
And then the concert ended. You know what they say - every high must have its low. I walked into the CalArts building, looking for the reception, and confronted a typical CalArts hallway.
Alone in the endless whiteness of hallway hell, you easily can believe that Walt Disney really is buried somewhere under the building. It's an ART school, a DESIGN school, a MUSIC school, but the architecture can be simply antiseptic. A little interior decoration - some art on the walls - couldn't hurt, could it? A sound environment? Something.
Then at the reception, more pictures were taken. I like taking pictures of pictures being taken. Here's one more.
Over the years I've written a number of posts that are tagged CalArts. Click here to read them all. This is the third time I've ever mentioned David Rosenboom.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Frank Zappa's 200 Motels - The Suites
On Wednesday October 23 the Los Angeles Philharmonic performed Frank Zappa's 200 Motels - The Suites, an event marking Disney Hall's tenth anniversary. It was an elaborately staged, spare-no-expense, more-than-ninety-minute concert version for soloists, actors, chorus and massive orchestra. It was exceptionally well done. It was great fun. It was like a rock and roll concert. Sadly, however, it was sold out and one night only. Many fans of Zappa's music wished for tickets they couldn't get.
I'd like to thank the Philharmonic, and especially conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen and also Chad Smith, Philharmonic VP for Artistic Planning who shepherded this project from the beginning, for allowing me to observe all the orchestra rehearsals. Remarkably, there were only three. It was a wonderful thing to see this music prepared and performed with such precision and positive professionalism - qualities often missing in large orchestra productions during Frank's lifetime. Watching this production come together prompted a lot of thoughts and emotions in me.
Gail Zappa, Frank's widow, and her team, also deserve thanks for putting Frank's music into a performable format. They chose the name "200 Motels - The Suites". There are 13 suites, played continuously, some of which are further divided into smaller sections. They selected an order for the suites which is reminiscent of the movie. There's only a faint semblance of story line.
I haven't been so excited about a live music event in a very long time. I found the execution and performance of 200 Motels - The Suites thrilling. It was a performance to remember.
The action is seen through the eyes of a touring rock band. Frank seemed to think that everyone would be interested in the grueling aspects of his life on the road. He toured a lot, traveling from town to town, each night searching out decent food, a clean shower and, apparently, someone to screw. He cast himself and his fellow band members as characters in the story and assembled his loose libretto around the tribulations of touring: clueless interviewers, hostile local residents and bad drug trips.
In "I'm Stealing the Room" (Suite X). band member Mark (or is it Howard) wants to bring Jeff, the bass player, down from a bad trip caused by sniffing a mildewed bath towel. Zappa wrote this dialogue:
Frank uses the unlikely medium of symphonic composition to complain about the tribulations of being a rock star. It's hard to feel too sorry for him. I wonder if he ever gave a second thought to the notion that almost no one else in the universe could relate to his life. A lot of people were probably downright jealous of him for exactly the things he was complaining about.
Could he have come up with better subject matter? Maybe there is no better subject for an evening of musical entertainment than the life of the composer. Frank's creative output almost never touches on the eternal verities. He liked to use the small realities of life for his inspiration - for example, the cleanliness of his kitchen or the stupid things Jimmy Swaggart did.
I feel that lyrics and plots were not Zappa's creative strength. What he did best was turn out a stream of exceptional music, much of it very advanced and challenging. His bands were monumentally tight. He knew how to craft first-rate albums. He managed to do these things in many different musical styles during his career. He was a great musician. A genius.
As you know, most rock stars have not been inspired to the life of orchestral composition by the music of Edgar Varese. And of those that have been so inspired, apparently only Frank Zappa spent his free time while on tour writing gargantuan orchestra pieces. Frank used his on-the-road compositional activities as the premise for the introduction to "The Pleated Gazelle" (Suite IX).
"The Pleated Gazelle" begins with a spoken narrative by the character called Frank (or is it Larry the Dwarf, the two looked identical) :
It's important to remember that all the music of 200 Motels - The Suites (and much more) was composed before Frank turned 30. Also that he was largely self taught. Also that these scores performed last week reflect exactly what he wrote back then, still very much a young inexperienced composer.
The performances of this music which he heard in the seventies were nowhere near as good as the one I heard in Disney Hall. The orchestras back then had neither the resources nor the musicianship of today's Los Angeles Philharmonic. They also lacked the positive attitude. If by some chance Frank had gotten a performance this good, he might have grown as an orchestra composer in a way we can only imagine.
Frank follows the compositional confessional in The Pleated Gazelle with a story about a girl who falls in love with a newt rancher. Her love, alas, is unrequited because he is attracted to an industrial vacuum cleaner. I can imagine that story is something you might find in, say, a surreal opera. In fact Schott, the publisher of this music, lists 200 Motels - The Suites as an opera.
200 Motels? An opera? That must annoy "real" opera fans, the ones who repeatedly attend Ring Cycles and Rigolettos.
There had been some question of how regular Green Umbrella subscribers would react to this production of 200 Motels - what with all the absurdity and profanity. I did see only a handful of people walking out mid-Suite.
When he composed this music Frank certainly was not writing for opera devotees or for symphony fanatics. He never showed much respect for the long classical tradition which weighs on contemporary composers these days. The traditions which force composers to share programs with the masterpieces by revered icons of classical music did not mean much to him. Frank, after all, was an iconoclast. He was good at breaking icons. Very good.
In the blue-hair department, I found one reviewer who vented his unhappiness with this production, someone named Rodney Punt. Here's a sample bit of screed from that online review.
Later Burt meandered through the orchestra improvising insults. "You donated money for THIS?" he asked the audience. Burt ends up center stage pointing his pistols at the unflappable Esa-Pekka Salonen with the demand "Hey Twerp, why can't you play something I can enjoy?"
Since 200 Motels comes with its own built-in unhappy critic, it needs no more. Superfluous unhappy critics might have done a good deed by giving up their tickets to some eager Zappa fan.
A much better online review by Richard S. Ginell has this description of the problems Zappa's music encounters in the classical music world.
In Disney Hall in 2013 at the end of this particular Green Umbrella concert, however, even the smallest droplet of humanism was grasped at and probably much appreciated by many in the audience.
That Schott web site link I mentioned will also let you read the complete instrumentation list of 200 Motels - The Suites. Frank asks for a lot of instruments.
The principal percussionist of the Philharmonic, Raynor Carroll, told me that this piece required him to provide the longest list of percussion instruments he had ever seen. I learned elsewhere that there were 164 performers in total. This figure would have been hard to verify independently because they were packed so tightly onto the stage. And because there wasn't enough light on them.
To accommodate such a huge orchestra, the stage was completely flat instead of slightly raked. This, along with the amplification of chorus and soloists, plus the mighty sound of all the percussion, made orchestra balances problematical. In Strictly Genteel (Suite XIII) I noticed one familiar spot where 9 French horns and 4 trombones had trouble being heard. It was a noisy evening.
There were plenty of quiet moments - for example music passages for three classical guitars. Unfortunately, in both dress rehearsal and performance I found it was often hard to concentrate on the music because of the staging. I felt that the music was often "covered" by the visuals.
Huge amounts of talent went into this production. The most dazzling of all was that of Esa-Pekka Salonen who showed great courage by stepping outside his standard area of expertise in agreeing to conduct 200 Motels. He kept things moving along and tightly focused far beyond what might have been expected. He was almost too cool about it. I hope he can conduct this piece again someday under conditions which will allow him to shape the music more carefully. Curiously, at one of the rehearsals, he seemed to have trouble saying the name of Suite XII out loud.
The concert was obsessively recorded on audio but not video. Each string player had an individual microphone. We are told it will be for iTunes release. I hope that does happen.
The Philharmonic, to their credit, provided every performer Frank asked for in his score except for one small group of boy sopranos. They are marked "optional". Their part was sung by actual adult sopranos. I remember, when I worked for Frank, asking him whether he thought he'd get an orchestra to bring in children for so small part. His memorable reply "It doesn't hurt to ask".
It's fair for us to wonder what Frank was thinking when he dared to write for such an impractical ensemble. My guess is that he was thinking of all these instruments as a very large rock band.
In a 1966 interview (later published in the magazine Hit Parader) Frank described his perfect rock band.
In 2013 the LA Philharmonic players' mood was quite good and the musical precision was damn close to what the composer intended. If Frank had witnessed something similar, especially in 1970, he might have mitigated his well known dislike of orchestra players.
These musicians actually did the crazy stage antics Frank wrote into the score (sadly these were hard to see because of the lighting). They shouted out every last "blorp". They also clowned around onstage before the music started, taking to heart their instruction to dress in concert black but with a disheveled look. They did The Wave onstage. When was the last time you saw that? To be fair, many of them were probably quite relieved to see standard repertoire pieces on their music stands later in the week.
Anyway, Frank wrote his music for his own fans. He had plenty of fans. And he had a good idea of what they liked. The 1966 quote above continues:
It's too late to develop the sort of orchestra music for the "kids" which Frank dreamed about in 1966. Those kids were part of the baby boom generation. Boomers, like me and presumably Rodney Punt, are all grown up now and we are set in our musical tastes.
It was fun to witness this concert and wonder what might have been. I found the evening quite touching because, had Frank lived to see this (and had he stayed relaxed enough to let everyone do their jobs), he would have loved it. At least I think he would; it was always impossible to predict what he might think about anything.
And so, at the end of 200 Motels - The Suites I found myself with tears in my eyes. Not just at the concert but also at the dress rehearsal. Not because this is emotional music (which it absolutely isn't) but because I was able to witness the work of someone I consider to be a great composer and creative spirit, someone I knew and respected and feel privileged to have worked for, finally taken seriously and performed with great precision by one of the foremost musical ensembles of our time.
One of the few rewards of getting old is the ability to see how history turns out. I personally am interested in tracking how music history gets written, how it develops a cultural memory of some of the people, like Frank, whom I have known.
Frank Zappa created his own unique music, sometimes baffling and bizarre, other times exciting and electrifying. This event is a major milestone in our collective efforts to place him and his music in the ongoing chronicle of music. It was an honor to witness this concert.
Yet more comments which I couldn't work into the above essay:
200 Motels - The Suites was performed a few days later with different forces, without the staging, at the Royal Festival Hall in London. Frank had wanted to perform 200 Motels in 1971 at the Royal Albert Hall, but the concert was canceled by authorities because it was thought to be "about sex". That was pretty much true. On November 9, 2013, the RFH concert will be broadcast online. (Try this link.)
Also this week, another piece of Franks, Bogus Pomp, which is derived from some of the 200 Motels music, received a rare performance. The Montreal Symphony Orchestra was led by Kent Nagano who led the premiere in England in 1983. Here's a review. That was one of the pieces I worked on during the years I was employed by Frank.
Hila Plitmann was the soprano in the L.A. performance and she stood out by a mile. Frank, I think, would have loved her because she sang the music exceptionally well and she can act. And also because she took off most of her clothes on stage.
Morris Robinson, the bass soloist, had a wonderful voice but a much smaller part. His part cracked me up when in Penis Dimension (Suite XII) he sang a very low, slow rendition of the theme from Lumpy Gravy. The old black and white picture of Frank Zappa is, I think, from the Lumpy Gravy sessions in 1967 at which point he must have been working on 200 Motels music. The pianist in that picture is Mike Lang, who I saw at the 200 Motels concert.
"You donated money for THIS?" The concert program had this line: This evening's performance is supported in part by a generous gift from Christian and Sutton Stracke. Let's all give those two a big round of thanks.
The two actors who were identically made up to look like Frank really did remind me of him. They were skinny enough (i.e. very skinny) and their hair looked just right. However, when sitting onstage watching quietly, something Frank really did during rock concerts, he would have been smoking a cigarette. The actors should have been sucking on a glowing e-cigarette. The Mark character (or was it Howard) did that at one point. Frank should have also. Then again, that might have been just too eerie.
Thanks to Charles Ulrich for locating the "ideal Mothers rock and roll band" quote.
The LA Philharmonic Facebook page is the source of most of these pictures. The picture of the score of Tuna Sandwich Ballet came from here.
ADDENDA
At the end of the 1960's interview quoted above, Frank talked about how the Mothers created their musical sets:
Did you skip to the end? Here's a selection of other Mixed Meters posts you may not have time to read either.
About Frank Zappa:
Zappa Symphonies (that would be Francesco Zappa, mostly)
Frank Zappa and Alcohol (Zappa beer and orchestra musicians who drank)
Frank Zappa's Jukebox (not a great compilation)
Out To Lunch (aka Ben Watson)
Paradise, Pomp and Puppets - Performing Zappa's Orchestra Music (a long one)
Lower Case Zappa (a short one)
Varese, Zappa and Slonimsky (an early one)
(all MM posts tagged "Frank Zappa" - click here)
About Music Critics
David Ocker, Boy Music Critic (mostly about Domenico Scarlatti)
Combining Four Letter Words: Oboe + Blog
Rich Critic, Poor Critic (that would have been Alan Rich)
Two Marks of Good Music Criticism (one Mark would be Swed)
Who is Philip Hensher Anyway? (he's English, I know that)
30 Second Spots - The Manuscripts Ends Abruptly, Scherzo for Danny Cariaga
(all MM posts tagged "reviewers" - click here)
I'd like to thank the Philharmonic, and especially conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen and also Chad Smith, Philharmonic VP for Artistic Planning who shepherded this project from the beginning, for allowing me to observe all the orchestra rehearsals. Remarkably, there were only three. It was a wonderful thing to see this music prepared and performed with such precision and positive professionalism - qualities often missing in large orchestra productions during Frank's lifetime. Watching this production come together prompted a lot of thoughts and emotions in me.
Gail Zappa, Frank's widow, and her team, also deserve thanks for putting Frank's music into a performable format. They chose the name "200 Motels - The Suites". There are 13 suites, played continuously, some of which are further divided into smaller sections. They selected an order for the suites which is reminiscent of the movie. There's only a faint semblance of story line.
I haven't been so excited about a live music event in a very long time. I found the execution and performance of 200 Motels - The Suites thrilling. It was a performance to remember.
The action is seen through the eyes of a touring rock band. Frank seemed to think that everyone would be interested in the grueling aspects of his life on the road. He toured a lot, traveling from town to town, each night searching out decent food, a clean shower and, apparently, someone to screw. He cast himself and his fellow band members as characters in the story and assembled his loose libretto around the tribulations of touring: clueless interviewers, hostile local residents and bad drug trips.
In "I'm Stealing the Room" (Suite X). band member Mark (or is it Howard) wants to bring Jeff, the bass player, down from a bad trip caused by sniffing a mildewed bath towel. Zappa wrote this dialogue:
We gotta get him back to normal before Zappa finds out and steals it and makes him do it in the movie.Yes, the action in 200 Motels is completely self-referential.
Frank uses the unlikely medium of symphonic composition to complain about the tribulations of being a rock star. It's hard to feel too sorry for him. I wonder if he ever gave a second thought to the notion that almost no one else in the universe could relate to his life. A lot of people were probably downright jealous of him for exactly the things he was complaining about.
Could he have come up with better subject matter? Maybe there is no better subject for an evening of musical entertainment than the life of the composer. Frank's creative output almost never touches on the eternal verities. He liked to use the small realities of life for his inspiration - for example, the cleanliness of his kitchen or the stupid things Jimmy Swaggart did.
I feel that lyrics and plots were not Zappa's creative strength. What he did best was turn out a stream of exceptional music, much of it very advanced and challenging. His bands were monumentally tight. He knew how to craft first-rate albums. He managed to do these things in many different musical styles during his career. He was a great musician. A genius.
As you know, most rock stars have not been inspired to the life of orchestral composition by the music of Edgar Varese. And of those that have been so inspired, apparently only Frank Zappa spent his free time while on tour writing gargantuan orchestra pieces. Frank used his on-the-road compositional activities as the premise for the introduction to "The Pleated Gazelle" (Suite IX).
"The Pleated Gazelle" begins with a spoken narrative by the character called Frank (or is it Larry the Dwarf, the two looked identical) :
One night I couldn't get any action after the concert. I went back to the hotel by myself. I made some instant coffee and I took out the music I'd been working on, a piece for voice and small ensemble. It was called "I Have Seen the Pleated Gazelle". Some people might wonder why a person might want to write something like this. It's not pretty and I don't think that it's sensible. But that didn't matter to me while I was writing it. I just wrote down whatever came to mind. I figured I'd never get to hear it anyway. It occurred to me that night that if the piece was ever performed the audience might like it better if it had a story. So I made up a story.Here Frank is painting a clever portrait of how he composed. He starts by implying that he only wrote music when he couldn't get laid. He then tells us that this music was not for everyone and that he knew he was asking for impractical resources and stratospheric levels of musicianship. Only later did he add plot lines, however surreal, in hope of giving more people a chance to relate. I saw this happen directly in the music of A Zappa Affair, the large puppet and orchestra production produced by the Berkeley Symphony in 1984.
It's important to remember that all the music of 200 Motels - The Suites (and much more) was composed before Frank turned 30. Also that he was largely self taught. Also that these scores performed last week reflect exactly what he wrote back then, still very much a young inexperienced composer.
The performances of this music which he heard in the seventies were nowhere near as good as the one I heard in Disney Hall. The orchestras back then had neither the resources nor the musicianship of today's Los Angeles Philharmonic. They also lacked the positive attitude. If by some chance Frank had gotten a performance this good, he might have grown as an orchestra composer in a way we can only imagine.
Frank follows the compositional confessional in The Pleated Gazelle with a story about a girl who falls in love with a newt rancher. Her love, alas, is unrequited because he is attracted to an industrial vacuum cleaner. I can imagine that story is something you might find in, say, a surreal opera. In fact Schott, the publisher of this music, lists 200 Motels - The Suites as an opera.
200 Motels? An opera? That must annoy "real" opera fans, the ones who repeatedly attend Ring Cycles and Rigolettos.
There had been some question of how regular Green Umbrella subscribers would react to this production of 200 Motels - what with all the absurdity and profanity. I did see only a handful of people walking out mid-Suite.
When he composed this music Frank certainly was not writing for opera devotees or for symphony fanatics. He never showed much respect for the long classical tradition which weighs on contemporary composers these days. The traditions which force composers to share programs with the masterpieces by revered icons of classical music did not mean much to him. Frank, after all, was an iconoclast. He was good at breaking icons. Very good.
In the blue-hair department, I found one reviewer who vented his unhappiness with this production, someone named Rodney Punt. Here's a sample bit of screed from that online review.
I thought the work a pretentious, puerile, extravagant bore. The libretto (too kind a word) was wretched and trite but it thought itself clever and witty. The music was gauche, boring, and proceeded from one unmerited climax to another. Zappa certainly had ambition and all the documentary evidence suggests he worked hard on this work. But inherent musical value? Not there. I don't see creative or organizational talent in this score.On the road Frank certainly encountered people who didn't like his music. We know this because he added such a character to 200 Motels. In this production Lonesome Cowboy Burt was portrayed as a gun-totin' blusterin' bully who terrorized the band members and dumped a wheelbarrow of faux shit on the stage. The wheelbarrow had the logo of the LA Phil on it.
Later Burt meandered through the orchestra improvising insults. "You donated money for THIS?" he asked the audience. Burt ends up center stage pointing his pistols at the unflappable Esa-Pekka Salonen with the demand "Hey Twerp, why can't you play something I can enjoy?"
Since 200 Motels comes with its own built-in unhappy critic, it needs no more. Superfluous unhappy critics might have done a good deed by giving up their tickets to some eager Zappa fan.
A much better online review by Richard S. Ginell has this description of the problems Zappa's music encounters in the classical music world.
What makes Zappa’s unique world as a whole so difficult for some to accept is that you have to buy the entire package – the salacious along with the serious; the relentless political, religious, and social satire; the musical references to his heroes in the classical and rock worlds; the cynicism and ultimately encouraging humanism – in order to get the message. It’s all of one piece, one vision, and you can take it or leave it.That struck me as a fine summation of the problems facing a classical music fan sitting through an evening of Zappa for the first time. I suspect Frank wasn't really expressing "encouraging humanism" in the finale "Strictly Genteel" (Suite XIII). I've always felt that the message of that tune was "everyone should get laid". That notion is less humanistic and more Zappaistic.
In Disney Hall in 2013 at the end of this particular Green Umbrella concert, however, even the smallest droplet of humanism was grasped at and probably much appreciated by many in the audience.
That Schott web site link I mentioned will also let you read the complete instrumentation list of 200 Motels - The Suites. Frank asks for a lot of instruments.
The principal percussionist of the Philharmonic, Raynor Carroll, told me that this piece required him to provide the longest list of percussion instruments he had ever seen. I learned elsewhere that there were 164 performers in total. This figure would have been hard to verify independently because they were packed so tightly onto the stage. And because there wasn't enough light on them.
To accommodate such a huge orchestra, the stage was completely flat instead of slightly raked. This, along with the amplification of chorus and soloists, plus the mighty sound of all the percussion, made orchestra balances problematical. In Strictly Genteel (Suite XIII) I noticed one familiar spot where 9 French horns and 4 trombones had trouble being heard. It was a noisy evening.
There were plenty of quiet moments - for example music passages for three classical guitars. Unfortunately, in both dress rehearsal and performance I found it was often hard to concentrate on the music because of the staging. I felt that the music was often "covered" by the visuals.
Huge amounts of talent went into this production. The most dazzling of all was that of Esa-Pekka Salonen who showed great courage by stepping outside his standard area of expertise in agreeing to conduct 200 Motels. He kept things moving along and tightly focused far beyond what might have been expected. He was almost too cool about it. I hope he can conduct this piece again someday under conditions which will allow him to shape the music more carefully. Curiously, at one of the rehearsals, he seemed to have trouble saying the name of Suite XII out loud.
The concert was obsessively recorded on audio but not video. Each string player had an individual microphone. We are told it will be for iTunes release. I hope that does happen.
The Philharmonic, to their credit, provided every performer Frank asked for in his score except for one small group of boy sopranos. They are marked "optional". Their part was sung by actual adult sopranos. I remember, when I worked for Frank, asking him whether he thought he'd get an orchestra to bring in children for so small part. His memorable reply "It doesn't hurt to ask".
It's fair for us to wonder what Frank was thinking when he dared to write for such an impractical ensemble. My guess is that he was thinking of all these instruments as a very large rock band.
In a 1966 interview (later published in the magazine Hit Parader) Frank described his perfect rock band.
The instrumentation of the ideal Mothers rock and roll band is two piccolos, two flutes, two bass flutes, two oboes, English horn, three bassoons, a contrabassoon, four clarinets (with the fourth player doubling on alto clarinet), bass clarinet, contrabass clarinet, soprano, alto, tenor, baritone and bass saxophones, four trumpets, four French horns, three trombones, one bass trombone, one tuba, one contrabass tuba, two harps, two keyboard men playing piano, electric piano, electric harpsichord, electric clavichord, Hammond organ, celeste, and piano bass, ten first violins, ten second violins, eight violas, six cellos, four string bass, four percussionists playing twelve timpani, chimes, gongs, field drums, bass drums, snare drums, woodblocks lion's roar, vibes, xylophone and marimba three electric guitars, one electric 12-string guitar, electric bass and electric bass guitar and two drummers at sets, plus vocalists who play tambourines. And I won't be happy until I have it.I was impressed that Frank's humongous rock and roll band functioned really well. That was not so during his lifetime. I've been told many times that at the infamous 1970 Pauley Pavilion concert and at the recording of 200 Motels - the Movie in England the moods were tense and the music imprecise.
In 2013 the LA Philharmonic players' mood was quite good and the musical precision was damn close to what the composer intended. If Frank had witnessed something similar, especially in 1970, he might have mitigated his well known dislike of orchestra players.
These musicians actually did the crazy stage antics Frank wrote into the score (sadly these were hard to see because of the lighting). They shouted out every last "blorp". They also clowned around onstage before the music started, taking to heart their instruction to dress in concert black but with a disheveled look. They did The Wave onstage. When was the last time you saw that? To be fair, many of them were probably quite relieved to see standard repertoire pieces on their music stands later in the week.
Anyway, Frank wrote his music for his own fans. He had plenty of fans. And he had a good idea of what they liked. The 1966 quote above continues:
I think people are entitled to hear that kind of music live. Kids would go to concerts if they could hear music that knocked them out. If the concert halls would change to a more modern programming, they would find the place crawling with kids. Something like this won't happen overnight and I know it. But I've studied my audiences carefully enough to see that we're making some headway in that direction.Today Frank's audience remembers and misses him. They knew the significance of this event not as the tenth anniversary of a concert hall, but as the long overdue realization of an important work by a toweringly creative artist who has been dead for nearly 20 years. The Zappa fans filled every available seat of Disney Hall for this event and they were loud and noisy. Before the music started I found myself wondering if someone would shout out "What's the secret word for tonight?" or maybe start a pile of panties on a corner of the stage. These fans went home happy.
It's too late to develop the sort of orchestra music for the "kids" which Frank dreamed about in 1966. Those kids were part of the baby boom generation. Boomers, like me and presumably Rodney Punt, are all grown up now and we are set in our musical tastes.
It was fun to witness this concert and wonder what might have been. I found the evening quite touching because, had Frank lived to see this (and had he stayed relaxed enough to let everyone do their jobs), he would have loved it. At least I think he would; it was always impossible to predict what he might think about anything.
And so, at the end of 200 Motels - The Suites I found myself with tears in my eyes. Not just at the concert but also at the dress rehearsal. Not because this is emotional music (which it absolutely isn't) but because I was able to witness the work of someone I consider to be a great composer and creative spirit, someone I knew and respected and feel privileged to have worked for, finally taken seriously and performed with great precision by one of the foremost musical ensembles of our time.
One of the few rewards of getting old is the ability to see how history turns out. I personally am interested in tracking how music history gets written, how it develops a cultural memory of some of the people, like Frank, whom I have known.
Frank Zappa created his own unique music, sometimes baffling and bizarre, other times exciting and electrifying. This event is a major milestone in our collective efforts to place him and his music in the ongoing chronicle of music. It was an honor to witness this concert.
Yet more comments which I couldn't work into the above essay:
200 Motels - The Suites was performed a few days later with different forces, without the staging, at the Royal Festival Hall in London. Frank had wanted to perform 200 Motels in 1971 at the Royal Albert Hall, but the concert was canceled by authorities because it was thought to be "about sex". That was pretty much true. On November 9, 2013, the RFH concert will be broadcast online. (Try this link.)
Also this week, another piece of Franks, Bogus Pomp, which is derived from some of the 200 Motels music, received a rare performance. The Montreal Symphony Orchestra was led by Kent Nagano who led the premiere in England in 1983. Here's a review. That was one of the pieces I worked on during the years I was employed by Frank.
Hila Plitmann was the soprano in the L.A. performance and she stood out by a mile. Frank, I think, would have loved her because she sang the music exceptionally well and she can act. And also because she took off most of her clothes on stage.
Morris Robinson, the bass soloist, had a wonderful voice but a much smaller part. His part cracked me up when in Penis Dimension (Suite XII) he sang a very low, slow rendition of the theme from Lumpy Gravy. The old black and white picture of Frank Zappa is, I think, from the Lumpy Gravy sessions in 1967 at which point he must have been working on 200 Motels music. The pianist in that picture is Mike Lang, who I saw at the 200 Motels concert.
"You donated money for THIS?" The concert program had this line: This evening's performance is supported in part by a generous gift from Christian and Sutton Stracke. Let's all give those two a big round of thanks.
The two actors who were identically made up to look like Frank really did remind me of him. They were skinny enough (i.e. very skinny) and their hair looked just right. However, when sitting onstage watching quietly, something Frank really did during rock concerts, he would have been smoking a cigarette. The actors should have been sucking on a glowing e-cigarette. The Mark character (or was it Howard) did that at one point. Frank should have also. Then again, that might have been just too eerie.
Thanks to Charles Ulrich for locating the "ideal Mothers rock and roll band" quote.
The LA Philharmonic Facebook page is the source of most of these pictures. The picture of the score of Tuna Sandwich Ballet came from here.
ADDENDA
At the end of the 1960's interview quoted above, Frank talked about how the Mothers created their musical sets:
Each set that we do is conceived of as one continuous piece of music, like an opera. Even the dialogue between numbers is part of it. Some of our sets run an hour and a half, when we get carried away. That's about opera length.Kent Nagano said (from here):
History will be kind to Frank Zappa.
Did you skip to the end? Here's a selection of other Mixed Meters posts you may not have time to read either.
About Frank Zappa:
Zappa Symphonies (that would be Francesco Zappa, mostly)
Frank Zappa and Alcohol (Zappa beer and orchestra musicians who drank)
Frank Zappa's Jukebox (not a great compilation)
Out To Lunch (aka Ben Watson)
Paradise, Pomp and Puppets - Performing Zappa's Orchestra Music (a long one)
Lower Case Zappa (a short one)
Varese, Zappa and Slonimsky (an early one)
(all MM posts tagged "Frank Zappa" - click here)
About Music Critics
David Ocker, Boy Music Critic (mostly about Domenico Scarlatti)
Combining Four Letter Words: Oboe + Blog
Rich Critic, Poor Critic (that would have been Alan Rich)
Two Marks of Good Music Criticism (one Mark would be Swed)
Who is Philip Hensher Anyway? (he's English, I know that)
30 Second Spots - The Manuscripts Ends Abruptly, Scherzo for Danny Cariaga
(all MM posts tagged "reviewers" - click here)
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Wednesday, September 12, 2012
John Cage's Second Century
The day on which John Cage would have turned 100 years old was last week. In certain circles it was a big deal. (Here's a list of events.)
I am offering two recordings of the music of John Cage. Both were performed in Los Angeles in the early 1980s on concerts produced by the Independent Composers Association. I no longer remember exactly why I saved these cassette recordings. Subconciously, I guess, I knew that I would need material for my blog one day, once my hair turned gray.
Both concerts were apparently reviewed by the L.A. Times although I don't have access to either article nor to concert programs. I do remember that the reviewer remarked how Atlas Eclipticalis felt like the 'classical' work on a program of modern music. Imaginary Landscape was part of a tape music concert which also included pieces by Scott Fraser, Luc Ferrari and Jonathan Harvey.
listen to John Cage Atlas Eclipticalis with Winter Music - 1756 seconds - November 16, 1982 - The House, Santa Monica, California - The Independent Composers Assn. Ensemble, Delores Stevens, pianist, Stephen Mitchell, conductor
listen to John Cage Imaginary Landscape #4 with Radio Music - 497 seconds - May 21, 1983 - Stella-Polaris Gallery, Los Angeles, California - The Independent Composers Assn. Radio Ensemble
(Read about: why I have this flyer and how I know the other composers on the tape concert. At some point I made a copy of the Atlas Eclipticalis tape at half speed. I much preferred listening to it that way.)
As someone whose musical thinking was greatly influenced by Cage's work and ideas, I would be remiss to let this occasion pass without comment. On the other hand, these days I'm really more interested in observing how Cage is being remembered by the classical music establishment than I am in the man or his music.
I see Cage as the ultimate 20th century iconoclastic artist, someone who smashed the sacred ideas of the music world. In their place he brilliantly offered indeterminacy, new performance techniques, electronics, wildly inventive compositional systems and a sense of calm, unflappable, detached theatricality. He leavened this mixture with a galaxy of personal anecdotes, ideas from Zen teachings, mycology and the force of his own personality.
Indeed, I believe that the man himself sets Cage apart from the other composers of his time. He injected himself uniquely into his music by performing, lecturing or just being charming. In his second hundred years how essential will his persona be to the continued acceptance of his music? Eventually everyone who directly knew and revered Cage will be gone. Time will tell us if his music alone will continue to inspire new listeners. Or maybe his writings and ideas will motivate future generations to become fans.
In the coming decades the ears of the audience will, no doubt, continue to blend the music of the entire post-World War II avant-garde into a more homogenous musical experience. Although there will be plenty of academic types to make plenty of fine distinctions, it will be harder and harder for more casual listeners to choose sides in those ancient artistic conflicts. Total control via serialism or total randomness using chance operations? As it turned out, the aesthetics were much the same either way.
The centennial celebrations are heavy with the idea that Cage was a strong artistic wind that will blow through the ages. I suppose it is possible that Cage, by the year 2112, could land a spot in the pantheon of the greatest dead white male composers. Even so "Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Wagner and Cage" would be quite a stretch. I wouldn't be surprised if he comes to be regarded as the essential 20th century serial composer, eclipsing all those famous Europeans and academic Americans of the last fifty years.
Cage made a big deal out of studying with Schoenberg - and spent much of his later career trying to curry the approval of his long-dead teacher. Here's an excerpt from a fascinating L.A. Times article by Mark Swed about Cage's early life in Los Angeles:
Recently, in a BBC interview with Norman Lebrecht, John Adams talked about John Cage (This is from the 9/3/12 podcast, starting about 15'48")
We can argue later about what Cage is and what Cage is not. After that we can take a swing at what is great music and what is not. Or we can just agree to disagree.
Right now the question I am more interested in is 'How will perceptions of Cage change over time?' The best way to find out is to simply wait and see. It's more fun to guess.
I expect that the great iconoclast will gradually be transformed by his remaining acolytes into a great icon. He will be revered, Zen-like, in concerts and concert halls. Cage, I'm sure, would have liked nothing better. I also expect that the manner in which his music is performed will become increasingly conventional and prescribed. That's sad, but it is the way of what we call classical music.
Personally, the harder it becomes to experience the music of John Cage on a street corner, the more we will lose what I think is the real value of his work and life.
(Seventh and Broadway: 1 2 3 4 5 6)
Random Tags: saintdom. . . opposition. . . podgy. . . laburnum. . . exclamation. . . gargoyle
I am offering two recordings of the music of John Cage. Both were performed in Los Angeles in the early 1980s on concerts produced by the Independent Composers Association. I no longer remember exactly why I saved these cassette recordings. Subconciously, I guess, I knew that I would need material for my blog one day, once my hair turned gray.
Both concerts were apparently reviewed by the L.A. Times although I don't have access to either article nor to concert programs. I do remember that the reviewer remarked how Atlas Eclipticalis felt like the 'classical' work on a program of modern music. Imaginary Landscape was part of a tape music concert which also included pieces by Scott Fraser, Luc Ferrari and Jonathan Harvey.
listen to John Cage Atlas Eclipticalis with Winter Music - 1756 seconds - November 16, 1982 - The House, Santa Monica, California - The Independent Composers Assn. Ensemble, Delores Stevens, pianist, Stephen Mitchell, conductor
listen to John Cage Imaginary Landscape #4 with Radio Music - 497 seconds - May 21, 1983 - Stella-Polaris Gallery, Los Angeles, California - The Independent Composers Assn. Radio Ensemble
(Read about: why I have this flyer and how I know the other composers on the tape concert. At some point I made a copy of the Atlas Eclipticalis tape at half speed. I much preferred listening to it that way.)
As someone whose musical thinking was greatly influenced by Cage's work and ideas, I would be remiss to let this occasion pass without comment. On the other hand, these days I'm really more interested in observing how Cage is being remembered by the classical music establishment than I am in the man or his music.
I see Cage as the ultimate 20th century iconoclastic artist, someone who smashed the sacred ideas of the music world. In their place he brilliantly offered indeterminacy, new performance techniques, electronics, wildly inventive compositional systems and a sense of calm, unflappable, detached theatricality. He leavened this mixture with a galaxy of personal anecdotes, ideas from Zen teachings, mycology and the force of his own personality.
Indeed, I believe that the man himself sets Cage apart from the other composers of his time. He injected himself uniquely into his music by performing, lecturing or just being charming. In his second hundred years how essential will his persona be to the continued acceptance of his music? Eventually everyone who directly knew and revered Cage will be gone. Time will tell us if his music alone will continue to inspire new listeners. Or maybe his writings and ideas will motivate future generations to become fans.
In the coming decades the ears of the audience will, no doubt, continue to blend the music of the entire post-World War II avant-garde into a more homogenous musical experience. Although there will be plenty of academic types to make plenty of fine distinctions, it will be harder and harder for more casual listeners to choose sides in those ancient artistic conflicts. Total control via serialism or total randomness using chance operations? As it turned out, the aesthetics were much the same either way.
The centennial celebrations are heavy with the idea that Cage was a strong artistic wind that will blow through the ages. I suppose it is possible that Cage, by the year 2112, could land a spot in the pantheon of the greatest dead white male composers. Even so "Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Wagner and Cage" would be quite a stretch. I wouldn't be surprised if he comes to be regarded as the essential 20th century serial composer, eclipsing all those famous Europeans and academic Americans of the last fifty years.
Cage made a big deal out of studying with Schoenberg - and spent much of his later career trying to curry the approval of his long-dead teacher. Here's an excerpt from a fascinating L.A. Times article by Mark Swed about Cage's early life in Los Angeles:
Still the young composer continued to, as he put it, worship Schoenberg like a god. He took away from Schoenberg the idea that a composer always needed some kind of system. And Cage always came up with one.Schoenberg would likely have said that music needs more than a system of rules. I'm pretty sure he would have insisted that music also requires meaning and expression.
Recently, in a BBC interview with Norman Lebrecht, John Adams talked about John Cage (This is from the 9/3/12 podcast, starting about 15'48")
Actually there was a four or five year period when I was not that cognizant of minimalism. I was a real acolyte of John Cage. . . . I knew all my John Cage very well and I was very deeply imbued in John's orthodoxy. I do think that Cage is a very orthodox composer. That surprises people because they think of him as an iconoclast but he actually is a strangely intolerant composer in a certain way, when it comes to anything which doesn't fit into his very precise world. That means most of western music whether it's Miles Davis or Beethoven. Eventually I just had to throw that out. Because I had fun doing John Cage and you could talk about it forever but my background and my musical breeding had brought me up to love great music. Also I keep going back to this experience about music is essentially the art of feeling and Cage had no place in that.(Here's a fun anecdote about Cage's intolerance.)
We can argue later about what Cage is and what Cage is not. After that we can take a swing at what is great music and what is not. Or we can just agree to disagree.
Right now the question I am more interested in is 'How will perceptions of Cage change over time?' The best way to find out is to simply wait and see. It's more fun to guess.
I expect that the great iconoclast will gradually be transformed by his remaining acolytes into a great icon. He will be revered, Zen-like, in concerts and concert halls. Cage, I'm sure, would have liked nothing better. I also expect that the manner in which his music is performed will become increasingly conventional and prescribed. That's sad, but it is the way of what we call classical music.
Personally, the harder it becomes to experience the music of John Cage on a street corner, the more we will lose what I think is the real value of his work and life.
As John Cage has said, music is all around us if only we had ears. There would be no need for concert halls if man could only learn to enjoy the sounds which envelop him, for example at Seventh and Broadway at four p.m. on a rainy day.(That quote comes from the spoken introduction to the 1970 Everest recording of Variations IV by John Cage.)
(Seventh and Broadway: 1 2 3 4 5 6)
Random Tags: saintdom. . . opposition. . . podgy. . . laburnum. . . exclamation. . . gargoyle
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Arthur Jarvinen Birthday Concert
There was a time when Venice, home of canals, was an independent city. Then in 1925 it was swallowed up by the voracious mega-metropolis Los Angeles. Today the old Venice city hall is the home of the Beyond Baroque Literary/Arts Center.
Beyond Baroque hosts the very adventuresome new music concerts called Beyond Music. This series is "curated" (to use a trendient word) by composer Daniel Rothman. Daniel deserves much credit for his programming. It is cutting edge and it is a showcase for local artists - at the same time.
Daniel deserves even more credit, in my opinion, for making complete videos of some presentations available online on the Beyond Music YouTube page. These include both works on the Beyond Music Art Jarvinen birthday concert, Conspiracy of Crows (for three oboes) and 100 Cadences (for string quartet).
You could go back and read the two Mixed Meters posts I wrote before that concert. One was entitled Beyond Baroque, Arthur Jarvinen and Me - about performances Art and I had given of each other's music there over the years. The other, Preparing to Hear a Concert of Art Jarvinen's Music, briefly discussed the music and history of each piece.
But now, thanks to the combined miracles of consumer video, YouTube and the Internet, you can watch and listen to the performances of Arthur's music right in the comfort of your own ... well, these days I guess you can listen almost anywhere.
Arthur Jarvinen: A Conspiracy of Crows - Kathleen Pisaro, oboes - January 27, 2012, Beyond Music
Arthur Jarvinen: 100 CADENCES with four melodies, a chorale, and a coda ("with bells on!") - The Formalist Quartet (Andrew Tholl, Andrew Mcintosh, Mark Menzies, Ashley Walters) - January 27, 2012, Beyond Music
The Jarvinen Birthday concert was reviewed by our own newspaper of record, the L.A. Times. Critic Josef Woodard concluded:
To prepare you for that event, you might watch this beyond-hyper performance video from a previous Beyond Music wild Up concert. It's just one of the gems posted on Beyond Music's YouTube page. I hope there'll be more to come.
Clarence Barlow: Septima de Facto - wild Up - November 19, 2011, Beyond Music
Beyond Tags: Beyond Baroque. . . Beyond Music. . . Formalist Quartet. . . Kathy Pisaro. . . wild Up. . . new music concerts. . . Daniel Rothman
Beyond Baroque hosts the very adventuresome new music concerts called Beyond Music. This series is "curated" (to use a trendient word) by composer Daniel Rothman. Daniel deserves much credit for his programming. It is cutting edge and it is a showcase for local artists - at the same time.
Daniel deserves even more credit, in my opinion, for making complete videos of some presentations available online on the Beyond Music YouTube page. These include both works on the Beyond Music Art Jarvinen birthday concert, Conspiracy of Crows (for three oboes) and 100 Cadences (for string quartet).
You could go back and read the two Mixed Meters posts I wrote before that concert. One was entitled Beyond Baroque, Arthur Jarvinen and Me - about performances Art and I had given of each other's music there over the years. The other, Preparing to Hear a Concert of Art Jarvinen's Music, briefly discussed the music and history of each piece.
But now, thanks to the combined miracles of consumer video, YouTube and the Internet, you can watch and listen to the performances of Arthur's music right in the comfort of your own ... well, these days I guess you can listen almost anywhere.
Arthur Jarvinen: A Conspiracy of Crows - Kathleen Pisaro, oboes - January 27, 2012, Beyond Music
Arthur Jarvinen: 100 CADENCES with four melodies, a chorale, and a coda ("with bells on!") - The Formalist Quartet (Andrew Tholl, Andrew Mcintosh, Mark Menzies, Ashley Walters) - January 27, 2012, Beyond Music
The Jarvinen Birthday concert was reviewed by our own newspaper of record, the L.A. Times. Critic Josef Woodard concluded:
One couldn’t escape the feeling that this meditative lament of a work was looping back to reflect on its very creator, except that his inventive spirit was alive and well in this intimate room. As if to accentuate that notion, after the applause, someone in the back bellowed out “Happy birthday, Art.”The "intimate room" - it's small, painted completely black, even the windows - continues to host music and poetry events. There's two Beyond Music concerts next weekend (March 23 and 24) performances by the youthfully intense "modern music collective" wild Up.
To prepare you for that event, you might watch this beyond-hyper performance video from a previous Beyond Music wild Up concert. It's just one of the gems posted on Beyond Music's YouTube page. I hope there'll be more to come.
Clarence Barlow: Septima de Facto - wild Up - November 19, 2011, Beyond Music
Beyond Tags: Beyond Baroque. . . Beyond Music. . . Formalist Quartet. . . Kathy Pisaro. . . wild Up. . . new music concerts. . . Daniel Rothman
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Preparing to hear a concert of Art Jarvinen's music
January 27 of this year would have been composer Arthur Jarvinen's 56th birthday. On that date there will be a concert celebrating his life and music: 9:00 P.M. at Beyond Baroque in Venice California. (You can find temporal, geographical and economic details for the event here.)
The concert is part of a critically acclaimed series entitled Beyond Music. It is programmed by composer Daniel Rothman, a close friend of Art's. Daniel has made performances from past concerts available on video at the Beyond Baroque Music YouTube Channel.
There will be two works on this concert. They are excellent examples of Art's chamber music and will serve as a fine introduction to his more serious endeavors. Of course Art wrote in many other styles and genres. No one should imagine that this concert, or any two pieces, could provide an overview of his complete body of music.
The two works are A Conspiracy of Crows for three oboes, which will be performed by Kathy Pisaro - two of the parts will be on tape - and 100 CADENCES with four melodies, a chorale, and a coda ("with bells on!") for string quartet, performed by the Formalist Quartet.
I have found two interviews in which Art discusses A Conspiracy of Crows. The first can be found in this fascinating 2007 online interview with musician John Trubee.
The second piece on the program is Art's string quartet entitled 100 CADENCES with four melodies, a chorale, and a coda ("with bells on!") The recording of this piece by the Formalist Quartet, who will also perform it on January 27, takes nearly 50 minutes. They recorded it in composer Lou Harrison's hay bale house near Joshua Tree, a place with which Art felt a strong spiritual connection.
Art dedicated 100 Cadences to Stephen "Lucky" Mosko, in memoriam. Lucky Mosko (1947-2005) was Art's composition teacher at CalArts and someone Art respected highly. Art felt a great loss at Lucky's death and I know that he felt great responsibility in the writing of a piece to honor and remember Lucky.
It seems quite reasonable to look for clues to 100 Cadences in Art's comments about Lucky's music. In 1995 Art wrote this biographical sketch of Lucky. Here's a quote:
Art also wrote about the perception of time in Lucky's music:
Wikipedia defines cadence as: "a melodic or harmonic configuration that creates a sense of repose or resolution [finality or pause]." A cadence has the essential quality of conclusion. Art made this idea the central focus of his piece.
Of course, Jarvinen's cadences are a far cry from the schoolbook dominant/tonic jobs you might have studied. They move slowly, avoid simple harmonies and mostly keep all the voices in restricted ranges. The slow progress of the cadences is broken by solo cadenzas for each player. These are the Four Melodies.
Midway through 100 Cadences is the Chorale, which Art subtitled "The Hymn of All Life Changing". The Formalist Quartet has shared their recording of the Chorale on their Bandcamp page. Here it is:
You can find several definitions of the idiom "with bells on!". Art appended this phrase to the title of his piece in both parentheses and quotation marks, sometimes even adding the exclamation point. All meanings of "with bells on!" point to excess enthusiasm or intensity of experience. While the coda to 100 Cadences does end with the players ringing small bells, it is not an ending of energy. Rather, it is a conclusion of sober reflection and great loss.
100 Cadences is discussed in this paper entitled Listening to Nothing in Particular: Boredom and Contemporary Experimental Music by Eldritch Priest. As you might guess from the title, the notion of time passing and how it is perceived comes up. Priest writes:
Priest's telling notion that "I am alternately with the music, ... and beside the music" speaks volumes about how to listen to and, ultimately, understand 100 Cadences.
Articles about Arthur Jarvinen have appeared often on Mixed Meters since the beginning. Click here to see all Art Articles on Mixed Meters.
Art briefly wrote articles for Mixed Meters under the pseudonym Mister ComposerHead. These, equally briefly, became the Mister ComposerHead blog.
Beyond Music Tags: Arthur Jarvinen. . . Beyond Baroque. . . Daniel Rothman. . . A Conspiracy of Crows. . . 100 Cadences. . . Eldritch Priest
The concert is part of a critically acclaimed series entitled Beyond Music. It is programmed by composer Daniel Rothman, a close friend of Art's. Daniel has made performances from past concerts available on video at the Beyond Baroque Music YouTube Channel.
There will be two works on this concert. They are excellent examples of Art's chamber music and will serve as a fine introduction to his more serious endeavors. Of course Art wrote in many other styles and genres. No one should imagine that this concert, or any two pieces, could provide an overview of his complete body of music.
The two works are A Conspiracy of Crows for three oboes, which will be performed by Kathy Pisaro - two of the parts will be on tape - and 100 CADENCES with four melodies, a chorale, and a coda ("with bells on!") for string quartet, performed by the Formalist Quartet.
I have found two interviews in which Art discusses A Conspiracy of Crows. The first can be found in this fascinating 2007 online interview with musician John Trubee.
The second, longer, less edited quote comes from a radio interview with the duo Kalvos and Damien. Look for show #539 - it's a wide-ranging discussion with Art highlighting a variety of his music. There are plenty of recordings including a segment of A Conspiracy of Crows. (It's the last piece in the two-hour show.)Then there's A Conspiracy Of Crows. It's a piece for three oboes in which I didn't consciously choose or compose any of the notes. I just used a series of numbers based on the years of the 20th Century - 1900 1901 1902...1999 - translated into fingering diagrams. I had no way of knowing what would come out, but I had a very good idea of what I thought the piece would "probably" sound like. I never heard a note of it until it was recorded here at my house last summer. It's one of the most beautiful things I've produced, and it fully matched my expectations. My wife is almost frightened by things like that, that I can intuit or anticipate these things. That's why I'm a composer, and some people aren't.
The piece is called A Conspiracy of Crows. To me, one of the intriguing things about this piece, is that, over the course of its twenty minutes, the three oboes are playing such a fascinating range of odd timbres, weird things that sound almost like they were meticulously composed, beautiful random textures, microtones, multiphonics. The complexity of the sound of the piece, and the kind of richness of texture and timbre and so forth -- I could never have composed. And literally, there is not one single sonority in the piece that was deliberately selected or chosen by me for any musical or compositional reasons.
All I did was come up with a mindlessly simple progression of numbers which is just the Twentieth Century - 1900, 1901, 1902, 1903 all the way up to 1999. And assigned each digit from zero through nine to one of the fingers that an oboe player uses to play the oboe. And it was a short step from there to just produce 400 fingering diagrams with absolutely no thought whatsoever to what comes out of the oboe when you blow into it with your fingers in that position.
It's my most Cagean piece in that it's using a kind of completely unpredictable, well organized - there is this progression of numbers so there are recurring motifs. Zero is always a reset, so as you go through 1900, 1901, 1902, 1903 there is a logic to the way the fingers are moving and the kinds of fingering diagrams that are being produced. But no intention or even no concern on my part as to what comes out of the oboe as a result. So it's very Cagean in that I couldn't predict the results.
I just think its one of my most successful pieces and kind of unique in that it does rely so heavily on non-intention on my part.
The second piece on the program is Art's string quartet entitled 100 CADENCES with four melodies, a chorale, and a coda ("with bells on!") The recording of this piece by the Formalist Quartet, who will also perform it on January 27, takes nearly 50 minutes. They recorded it in composer Lou Harrison's hay bale house near Joshua Tree, a place with which Art felt a strong spiritual connection.
Art dedicated 100 Cadences to Stephen "Lucky" Mosko, in memoriam. Lucky Mosko (1947-2005) was Art's composition teacher at CalArts and someone Art respected highly. Art felt a great loss at Lucky's death and I know that he felt great responsibility in the writing of a piece to honor and remember Lucky.
It seems quite reasonable to look for clues to 100 Cadences in Art's comments about Lucky's music. In 1995 Art wrote this biographical sketch of Lucky. Here's a quote:
When speaking about his own music and methods Mosko often refers to "games". Not the usual games we all know, but self-devised rules of procedure and methods of personal amusement.Art's own description above about about his method in A Conspiracy of Crows seems like a similar "game" method. Presumbably such compositional activities went into 100 Cadences as well - although I have no clue what they are. (I find it interesting that both pieces on this concert involve the number 100 in their structure.)
Art also wrote about the perception of time in Lucky's music:
This moment-form is an outgrowth of Mosko's enduring fascination with music's ability to alter conciousness, especially our temporal perceptions. Ideally, for him, the listener will not be able to say with certainty whether a piece just heard was five minutes or five hours long.Art must have approached a piece of such length with careful thought. Choosing to divide the work into 100 sections and to make each one a "cadence", a fundamental element of music theory which appears at the end of a musical phrase, reveals a good deal about how Art wanted a listener to experience musical time.
Wikipedia defines cadence as: "a melodic or harmonic configuration that creates a sense of repose or resolution [finality or pause]." A cadence has the essential quality of conclusion. Art made this idea the central focus of his piece.
Of course, Jarvinen's cadences are a far cry from the schoolbook dominant/tonic jobs you might have studied. They move slowly, avoid simple harmonies and mostly keep all the voices in restricted ranges. The slow progress of the cadences is broken by solo cadenzas for each player. These are the Four Melodies.
Midway through 100 Cadences is the Chorale, which Art subtitled "The Hymn of All Life Changing". The Formalist Quartet has shared their recording of the Chorale on their Bandcamp page. Here it is:
You can find several definitions of the idiom "with bells on!". Art appended this phrase to the title of his piece in both parentheses and quotation marks, sometimes even adding the exclamation point. All meanings of "with bells on!" point to excess enthusiasm or intensity of experience. While the coda to 100 Cadences does end with the players ringing small bells, it is not an ending of energy. Rather, it is a conclusion of sober reflection and great loss.
100 Cadences is discussed in this paper entitled Listening to Nothing in Particular: Boredom and Contemporary Experimental Music by Eldritch Priest. As you might guess from the title, the notion of time passing and how it is perceived comes up. Priest writes:
Priest provides a pdf score of the first dozen cadences of this piece together with an mp3 of the same. Here's the first system of the score (click to enlarge):I heard a string quartet a while ago by Los Angeles composer Art Jarvinen titled 100 cadences with four melodies, a chorale, and coda ("with bells on!"). As the title suggests, the piece keeps ending, over and over again, each time promising to conclude a musical adventure that never was. Over forty-eight minutes, the consecution of endings, punctuated by solos and glimmering silences, draw out an irritatingly radiant array of mock-perorations. And I am always more or less aware of this: More aware when the sheer materiality of these several endings intrudes upon my sense of contemplation, and less aware when, like Swann listening to Vinteuil's sonata, I am taken away by time passed. I am alternately with the music, my attention buoyed by a procession of simulated extinctions and untimely non-events, and beside the music, dreaming counterfactuals, shifting backward, forward, side to side in fantasies of otherwise. Buoyed in the messy imminence of a perpetual conclusion, my attention floats on nothing in particular, nothing but a series of loose intensities that are now and again interesting, or boring, or both.
Priest's telling notion that "I am alternately with the music, ... and beside the music" speaks volumes about how to listen to and, ultimately, understand 100 Cadences.
Articles about Arthur Jarvinen have appeared often on Mixed Meters since the beginning. Click here to see all Art Articles on Mixed Meters.
Art briefly wrote articles for Mixed Meters under the pseudonym Mister ComposerHead. These, equally briefly, became the Mister ComposerHead blog.
Beyond Music Tags: Arthur Jarvinen. . . Beyond Baroque. . . Daniel Rothman. . . A Conspiracy of Crows. . . 100 Cadences. . . Eldritch Priest
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