If you're a supporter of new music, here's a great chance to put your money where your mouth is. (Don't ever do that literally. Sounds disgusting.)
Great Noise Ensemble is fundraising on Kickstarter for their first professional album. Learn more and donate here. They're offering nice rewards!
164 people have backed the project so far, and they only need $888 more to reach the project goal of $12,000! Problem is, they have 4 days remaining to raise that money, or they get none of it! That's the deal with Kickstarter pledges, after all. So get to it!
Showing posts with label chamber music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chamber music. Show all posts
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Review: Clouds of Forgetting, Clouds of Unknowing (Great Noise Ensemble)
There has never been a better time to be an adherent of new music. Any genre, any aesthetic is fair game for today's recital hall. The options can be dizzying - like picking out a pasta sauce (Old-world-traditional-garlic? Chunky-4-cheese? caramelized-onion-mushroom-arrabbiata??). But if you know what you want, it is there waiting for you to take it off the shelf.
If new and different music is what you seek, check out what Great Noise Ensemble is serving up. Their season closed last Friday with a performance of John Luther Adams' Clouds of Forgetting, Clouds of Unknowing. This took place at the UU Church of Silver Spring, which hosted GNE in 2009, and in 2006 for the memorable Steve Reich 70th birthday concert. It's really a great space to play and listen, and this evening was no exception.
Billed by the composer as creating "a small time and space for extraordinary listening," this 70-minute large chamber work was a bold and rather remarkable programming choice. John Luther Adams doesn't have the instant name recognition of Glass or (the other) Adams that would draw some in. And Clouds itself is a real endurance challenge for both performer and audience - but one that will repay your attention like few other compositions. The 19 movements progress from a prolonged unison to gradually larger intervals. Each section features contemplative figures that alternate, repeat, and build on each other. A few raucous bell-like movements provide some added surface activity, but it largely comes across as one gradual progression from small to large intervals.
After 70 solid minutes amid a sea of consonances and unobtrusive dissonances, the final movement closes in on the single most satisfying cadence I have ever experienced. Persistent sevenths resolve up into octaves - plain, vanilla, beautiful octaves. All imperfections finally removed, these reduce to a high unison on two violins then fade into silence.
Under the baton of conductor and artistic director Armando Bayolo, the performers played with impressive precision, tone, and endurance. The accompanying slideshow of Alaskan vistas, put together by the venue's music director Michael Holmes, had real distraction potential. Thankfully, the artfully chosen images and slow pace were a welcome complement.
This sort of music demands a different sort of attention - an elite listener, even - but it's an investment well worth your time. Such a meditate musical experience is rare, even in the option-filled marketplace that is new music.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Great Noise Ensemble plays John Luther Adams
Great Noise Ensemble, DC's champion of the new, is at it again. Catch them this Friday, April 22, performing John Luther Adams' formidable Clouds of Forgetting, Clouds of Unknowing.
Is it just me, or is John Luther Adams the most famous living composer that no one really knows? Even among informed new music fans, I rarely come across people who can name one piece of his.
Maybe it's his esoteric topics (Alaska. Time.). Maybe it's his sloooowwwww music. Maybe it's the stigma of being the "other" John Adams in contemporary classical music. So, is this piece alone worth the 70-minute listen?
Decide for yourself this Friday. Then check back here for the review.
April 22, 2011 - 7:30pm
$15 ($10 students/seniors)
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Review: Rudin's Celebrations (mov.1) at Swarthmore - Dec 13
Andrew Rudin has all the hallmarks of a real musical craftsman. His colorful effects are expertly conceived and carefully timed, his rhythms are alternatingly intense and ruminative, and his large and small-scale gestures are clear and deliberate. His aesthetic offers a compelling combination of old-school technique and eminently listenable appeal.
A concert last Sunday at Swarthmore College provided another chance to take in Rudin's work, with a performance of Celebrations for two pianos (Marcantonio Barone and James Freeman) and percussion (Anthony Orlando). Although other movements and indeed other compositions were also featured, the first movement of Celebrations is available online!
Take a listen to the rehearsal, or, if Facebook allows, watch the performance itself.
A low, creeping piano melody sets the stage for the initial section lasting three-and-a-quarter minutes. Soft metallic percussion insinuates itself subtly into the mix, brightening the tone just a bit. A second formal area, announced by a strident triangle, raises the pitch clearly out of the basement. Vaguely quartal harmonies predominate with a health mixture of biting dissonances besides. Perhaps not coincidentally, this section is of identical length as the first.
Just over half way through the movement, a pulsating figure in marimba and piano provides a rhythmic vitality familiar to Rudin listeners. This underlies a lovely, angular melody that turns both sweet and brilliant. Nearly nine minutes in, the percussion swells to deliver the dynamic peak of the work.
From the ensuing silence, a single bowed vibraphone melts into a tight piano trill, signaling the start of the final section. Similar calculated and recognizable "color moments" can be found in many of Rudin's works and are a real joy to hear. Gradually, the music works itself back to a stoicism reminiscent of the opening. Vibraphone bell-tones are answered by low tolling in the pianos. Ultimately, the work winds down to the same place it started: with a simple, delicate tolling of single notes, ending on a low E natural - the same pitch that began the Celebrations eleven minutes before.
And that's only the first movement!
Reminder: You can get a quick list of all my reviews by going here... OR, through my website's handy Review gadgets. Enjoy, and come back tomorrow for a Celebrations-inspired haiku!
A concert last Sunday at Swarthmore College provided another chance to take in Rudin's work, with a performance of Celebrations for two pianos (Marcantonio Barone and James Freeman) and percussion (Anthony Orlando). Although other movements and indeed other compositions were also featured, the first movement of Celebrations is available online!
Take a listen to the rehearsal, or, if Facebook allows, watch the performance itself.
A low, creeping piano melody sets the stage for the initial section lasting three-and-a-quarter minutes. Soft metallic percussion insinuates itself subtly into the mix, brightening the tone just a bit. A second formal area, announced by a strident triangle, raises the pitch clearly out of the basement. Vaguely quartal harmonies predominate with a health mixture of biting dissonances besides. Perhaps not coincidentally, this section is of identical length as the first.
Just over half way through the movement, a pulsating figure in marimba and piano provides a rhythmic vitality familiar to Rudin listeners. This underlies a lovely, angular melody that turns both sweet and brilliant. Nearly nine minutes in, the percussion swells to deliver the dynamic peak of the work.
From the ensuing silence, a single bowed vibraphone melts into a tight piano trill, signaling the start of the final section. Similar calculated and recognizable "color moments" can be found in many of Rudin's works and are a real joy to hear. Gradually, the music works itself back to a stoicism reminiscent of the opening. Vibraphone bell-tones are answered by low tolling in the pianos. Ultimately, the work winds down to the same place it started: with a simple, delicate tolling of single notes, ending on a low E natural - the same pitch that began the Celebrations eleven minutes before.
And that's only the first movement!
Reminder: You can get a quick list of all my reviews by going here... OR, through my website's handy Review gadgets. Enjoy, and come back tomorrow for a Celebrations-inspired haiku!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Review: Great Noise Ensemble 9/19/2008 - Darkness in No Man's Land
Great Noise Ensemble Season Four: Icons Old and New
Concert #1: Darkness in No Man's Land
September 19, 2008 - Catholic University of America, Ward Hall, Washington, D.C.
The Great Noise Ensemble filled The Catholic University of America's Ward Hall with a choice sampling of exciting and diverse music on September 19. Although not without its liabilities and holes, GNE's season-opening concert was a thoroughly entertaining, engaging, varied, adventurous, and challenging evening of contemporary music. (True, Rzewski's early-70's works aren't exactly recent, but they, without question, rightfully claim the prime finale spot of this concert.)
Thick Skin, Ryan Brown
The attractively off-kilter funky jam session of Ryan Brown's Thick Skin was the ideal opening groove to grab the audience's attention. As numerous student composers in their 20's sat cheerfully beating out a 7/4 pattern in the audience, the group harnessed that jazz ensemble tradition of a loose, free feeling made up of super-tight ensemble licks. For its length, though, this first movement could have used more return of familiar material before its sudden end.
The fantastic 5 vs. 4 riff between the electric and bass guitars was a nice set up to the lyrical bassoon line that bore a somewhat curious resemblance to Thom Yorke's voice – only huskier. Balance was an issue in this second movement in particular, with very quiet auxiliary experimental percussion (clothes hangers, etc.) overpowered by electric guitar and ride cymbal. Hopefully the studio recording, if there is one, can clean that up.
The final movement continued the relentless barrage of happily infectious grooves, this time featuring the bassoon and guitar. The bassoon's fingering looked incredibly awkward, but the wide jumps of range were navigated with surprising fluency. Also, this is probably a happy accident, but the use of the side of the snare drum was a welcome relief in this echo-prone brick space. The recurring bVI, VII, I progression (Db-Eb-F, or thereabouts) toward the end brought a bit of a rock/soul flavor reminiscent of the Blues Brothers. In all, this work was enough to make the classical-only crowd wish they were more versed in contemporary jazz/art rock. In contrast to the following piece, the program notes for Thick Skin didn't mention the music itself at all, but gave a nice insight into the composer's motivation.
Three Nocturnes, James Leatherbarrow
James Leatherbarrow's Three Nocturnes for tuba and piano presented an ambitious, adventurous piece filled with interesting effects and expressive potential, but ultimately lacking in development and long-term musical interest. The many non-traditional (though now common) composerly effects seemed to be the main focus throughout the three movements. Tuba multiphonics formed a nice timbral counterpoint to low piano tremolos. The tuba's playing into the open piano lid presented a partially-exploited opportunity to explore the instruments' combined resonance, but a more compelling musical statement was needed to compensate for this physically awkward gesture.
The opening to the second movement featured a Bartokian rhythmic energy interrupted by dramatic sweeps in the piano. The concept of an incomplete or unformed tuba melody used here has potential, but this version was entirely unsatisfying, like setting up an audience expectation and never fulfilling it.
Noticeable intonation issues plagued the slow final movement especially, which is unfortunate because previous GNE audiences have heard Mr. Goins play much better. Throughout the piece, the tuba lost much of its beauty when approaching louder dynamics. Some diatonic/pentatonic clusters brought the work to a slow, unsatisfying ending.
Frankly, the program notes to Three Nocturnes were more compelling than the music itself. This work provided a good lesson for the many student composers in the audience that night: that the success of a piece of music can't rest on special effects and a compelling program alone.
On a positive note, the interesting musical material was plentiful and the sound-world was well established. But, as in a sketch draft, the composing out of those musical ideas seemed under-developed. It was as though the very existence of non-traditional sounds (by now rather commonplace in GNE concerts, actually) and a rich narrative backstory were considered enough to carry the piece. The truth of this statement, however, is a judgment I leave up to the audience.
Grab It!, Jacob TV
Presented without its video component, JacobTV's Grab It! is under ten years old, intriguing, and dripping with Reich-like inventiveness (it has the flair of a twenty-first century It's Gonna Rain). The work is in some regards simply a saxophone transcription of text itself, which is the work's primary shortcoming, but its performance by Matt Taylor showed real edge and skill. I heartily agree with the composer that the sax was a great timbral choice to accompany the recording.
This piece would really benefit from another revision that includes some contrapuntal texture in the sax to break up the feel of a literal transcription, and to allow for more intelligibility of the text. The house's unforgiving high wood ceiling and brick walls surely didn't help matters, but even so, the text was consistently covered by the live performer.
Since the intelligible portions of text were limited to a few choice expletives and the words “You lose everything,” the piece never ultimately transcended the world of great ideas yet to be realized. A simple change of texture in a few select areas would largely solve this single significant problem. This “simple change,” however, might involve undoing the composer's overall artistic goals for the piece.
Coming Together and Attica, Frederic Rzewski
Frederic Rzewski's Coming Together and Attica both deal with the story of upstate New York's Attica Prison riot of 1971, leading to the deaths of nine guards and twenty-eight inmates. The tragic loss of an obviously intelligent individual – Sam Melville, the author of the texts – provides a specific up-close picture of the events set musically to great effect.
The texts are spoken in cyclic patterns, adding new phrases or words on each go-around. These two process pieces originally call for ensemble improvisation on a given monophonic line (a bass line and an evolving melody, respectively). Due to some truly masterful orchestrating by conductor Armando Bayolo, these non-improvised versions demonstrate a real sense of direction and sensitivity to the texts – so much so that these particular arrangements seem as much a part of the compositions as the original music and texts themselves. A particularly effective moment came in Attica when the ensemble smartly gets out of the way of the guitar, a gorgeous but quiet instrument too often covered up by only a few others. This pair of orchestrations alone is certainly an accomplishment at least on par with the rest of the compositions on the concert.
In contrast to JacobTV's Grab It!, the musical components to Rzewski's works truly complement and support the delivery of the text, rather than slavishly following their every inflection. The music is not a setting of, but rather a reflection on the texts. Freed from a literal musical transcription, the cyclical text format creates a dramatic intensity and heightened focus as each new phrase approaches. Rather than becoming tedious, the textual repetitions only serve to remind the listener where she/he has been. Also, richer orchestrations were exploited well during repeated texts, helping balance the roles of word and music.
Whereas Coming Together utilizes a rather lengthy paragraph (or a brief essay) full of text, Attica is comprised entirely of the phrase “Attica is in front of me”. As in Coming Together, the words are revealed slowly, almost as if they are being pondered and written down in real time with the music. This is especially moving once the listener realizes, at least a good 60-90 seconds beforehand, that the end of the phrase will eventually be “Attica... is... in... front... of... me.” That word “me,” then, is imbued with a magnified dramatic importance as both the musical and textual climax of the work.
I was somehow unperturbed by the fact that this pair of works – and the entire concert as a whole – ended on a comparatively down-tempo piece. I have already argued that this was one limitation of the Leatherbarrow work heard earlier in the evening, but somehow the same musical tactic aroused in me a very different result. My only defense is to say that the emotional impact of these final two works by Rzewski succeeded in carrying me to a place at which this subdued ending seemed not only appropriate but indispensable.
Summary
The composers, performers, conductor, behind-the-scenes facilitators, and audience members combine to ignite an energy that is a rare and welcome relief to the typical well-starched concert-going experience. Of course, what stirs one listener's mind and soul may simply leave another flat, and GNE's variety of programing will inherently illicit responses of each category in every performance. (What do you get when you cross a chamber concerto, a passion oratorio, and a mandolin/soda can duo? I don't know, but someone is sure to disapprove.) But I along with most contemporary music fans will take this “hit-hit-hit-hit-and-miss” effort over safe, sanitary, familiar programing any day. Kudos to the Great Noise Ensemble for another successful concert!
Concert #1: Darkness in No Man's Land
September 19, 2008 - Catholic University of America, Ward Hall, Washington, D.C.
The Great Noise Ensemble filled The Catholic University of America's Ward Hall with a choice sampling of exciting and diverse music on September 19. Although not without its liabilities and holes, GNE's season-opening concert was a thoroughly entertaining, engaging, varied, adventurous, and challenging evening of contemporary music. (True, Rzewski's early-70's works aren't exactly recent, but they, without question, rightfully claim the prime finale spot of this concert.)
Thick Skin, Ryan Brown
The attractively off-kilter funky jam session of Ryan Brown's Thick Skin was the ideal opening groove to grab the audience's attention. As numerous student composers in their 20's sat cheerfully beating out a 7/4 pattern in the audience, the group harnessed that jazz ensemble tradition of a loose, free feeling made up of super-tight ensemble licks. For its length, though, this first movement could have used more return of familiar material before its sudden end.
The fantastic 5 vs. 4 riff between the electric and bass guitars was a nice set up to the lyrical bassoon line that bore a somewhat curious resemblance to Thom Yorke's voice – only huskier. Balance was an issue in this second movement in particular, with very quiet auxiliary experimental percussion (clothes hangers, etc.) overpowered by electric guitar and ride cymbal. Hopefully the studio recording, if there is one, can clean that up.
The final movement continued the relentless barrage of happily infectious grooves, this time featuring the bassoon and guitar. The bassoon's fingering looked incredibly awkward, but the wide jumps of range were navigated with surprising fluency. Also, this is probably a happy accident, but the use of the side of the snare drum was a welcome relief in this echo-prone brick space. The recurring bVI, VII, I progression (Db-Eb-F, or thereabouts) toward the end brought a bit of a rock/soul flavor reminiscent of the Blues Brothers. In all, this work was enough to make the classical-only crowd wish they were more versed in contemporary jazz/art rock. In contrast to the following piece, the program notes for Thick Skin didn't mention the music itself at all, but gave a nice insight into the composer's motivation.
Three Nocturnes, James Leatherbarrow
James Leatherbarrow's Three Nocturnes for tuba and piano presented an ambitious, adventurous piece filled with interesting effects and expressive potential, but ultimately lacking in development and long-term musical interest. The many non-traditional (though now common) composerly effects seemed to be the main focus throughout the three movements. Tuba multiphonics formed a nice timbral counterpoint to low piano tremolos. The tuba's playing into the open piano lid presented a partially-exploited opportunity to explore the instruments' combined resonance, but a more compelling musical statement was needed to compensate for this physically awkward gesture.
The opening to the second movement featured a Bartokian rhythmic energy interrupted by dramatic sweeps in the piano. The concept of an incomplete or unformed tuba melody used here has potential, but this version was entirely unsatisfying, like setting up an audience expectation and never fulfilling it.
Noticeable intonation issues plagued the slow final movement especially, which is unfortunate because previous GNE audiences have heard Mr. Goins play much better. Throughout the piece, the tuba lost much of its beauty when approaching louder dynamics. Some diatonic/pentatonic clusters brought the work to a slow, unsatisfying ending.
Frankly, the program notes to Three Nocturnes were more compelling than the music itself. This work provided a good lesson for the many student composers in the audience that night: that the success of a piece of music can't rest on special effects and a compelling program alone.
On a positive note, the interesting musical material was plentiful and the sound-world was well established. But, as in a sketch draft, the composing out of those musical ideas seemed under-developed. It was as though the very existence of non-traditional sounds (by now rather commonplace in GNE concerts, actually) and a rich narrative backstory were considered enough to carry the piece. The truth of this statement, however, is a judgment I leave up to the audience.
Grab It!, Jacob TV
Presented without its video component, JacobTV's Grab It! is under ten years old, intriguing, and dripping with Reich-like inventiveness (it has the flair of a twenty-first century It's Gonna Rain). The work is in some regards simply a saxophone transcription of text itself, which is the work's primary shortcoming, but its performance by Matt Taylor showed real edge and skill. I heartily agree with the composer that the sax was a great timbral choice to accompany the recording.
This piece would really benefit from another revision that includes some contrapuntal texture in the sax to break up the feel of a literal transcription, and to allow for more intelligibility of the text. The house's unforgiving high wood ceiling and brick walls surely didn't help matters, but even so, the text was consistently covered by the live performer.
Since the intelligible portions of text were limited to a few choice expletives and the words “You lose everything,” the piece never ultimately transcended the world of great ideas yet to be realized. A simple change of texture in a few select areas would largely solve this single significant problem. This “simple change,” however, might involve undoing the composer's overall artistic goals for the piece.
Coming Together and Attica, Frederic Rzewski
Frederic Rzewski's Coming Together and Attica both deal with the story of upstate New York's Attica Prison riot of 1971, leading to the deaths of nine guards and twenty-eight inmates. The tragic loss of an obviously intelligent individual – Sam Melville, the author of the texts – provides a specific up-close picture of the events set musically to great effect.
The texts are spoken in cyclic patterns, adding new phrases or words on each go-around. These two process pieces originally call for ensemble improvisation on a given monophonic line (a bass line and an evolving melody, respectively). Due to some truly masterful orchestrating by conductor Armando Bayolo, these non-improvised versions demonstrate a real sense of direction and sensitivity to the texts – so much so that these particular arrangements seem as much a part of the compositions as the original music and texts themselves. A particularly effective moment came in Attica when the ensemble smartly gets out of the way of the guitar, a gorgeous but quiet instrument too often covered up by only a few others. This pair of orchestrations alone is certainly an accomplishment at least on par with the rest of the compositions on the concert.
In contrast to JacobTV's Grab It!, the musical components to Rzewski's works truly complement and support the delivery of the text, rather than slavishly following their every inflection. The music is not a setting of, but rather a reflection on the texts. Freed from a literal musical transcription, the cyclical text format creates a dramatic intensity and heightened focus as each new phrase approaches. Rather than becoming tedious, the textual repetitions only serve to remind the listener where she/he has been. Also, richer orchestrations were exploited well during repeated texts, helping balance the roles of word and music.
Whereas Coming Together utilizes a rather lengthy paragraph (or a brief essay) full of text, Attica is comprised entirely of the phrase “Attica is in front of me”. As in Coming Together, the words are revealed slowly, almost as if they are being pondered and written down in real time with the music. This is especially moving once the listener realizes, at least a good 60-90 seconds beforehand, that the end of the phrase will eventually be “Attica... is... in... front... of... me.” That word “me,” then, is imbued with a magnified dramatic importance as both the musical and textual climax of the work.
I was somehow unperturbed by the fact that this pair of works – and the entire concert as a whole – ended on a comparatively down-tempo piece. I have already argued that this was one limitation of the Leatherbarrow work heard earlier in the evening, but somehow the same musical tactic aroused in me a very different result. My only defense is to say that the emotional impact of these final two works by Rzewski succeeded in carrying me to a place at which this subdued ending seemed not only appropriate but indispensable.
Summary
The composers, performers, conductor, behind-the-scenes facilitators, and audience members combine to ignite an energy that is a rare and welcome relief to the typical well-starched concert-going experience. Of course, what stirs one listener's mind and soul may simply leave another flat, and GNE's variety of programing will inherently illicit responses of each category in every performance. (What do you get when you cross a chamber concerto, a passion oratorio, and a mandolin/soda can duo? I don't know, but someone is sure to disapprove.) But I along with most contemporary music fans will take this “hit-hit-hit-hit-and-miss” effort over safe, sanitary, familiar programing any day. Kudos to the Great Noise Ensemble for another successful concert!
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Review: Great Noise Ensemble - Darkness in No Man's Land 9/19/08
Forthcoming (in 1-12 hours) is a belated review of the Great Noise Ensemble's September 19th concert at CUA, entitled Darkness in No Man's Land. Stay tuned!
Monday, May 19, 2008
Review: Great Noise Ensemble at National Gallery
The Great Noise Ensemble is among the most exciting and ambitious new music ensembles in Washington, D.C. Their May 18 concert at the National Gallery of Art marked a strong finish to their third season.
Things started off with Barbara White's quirky and cute Learning to See. While most of the score garnered some level of interest, there were moments of real shimmer, like the bowed vibraphone tones that morphed into held tones of other instruments. Such orchestrational touches are always a welcome sign of a composer who has put some real thought into the details of her/his music.
Rothko-Tobery Continuum by Evan Chambers offered a sincere approach to electro-acoustic music, showing a solid sense of balance in content between its electronic and acoustic forces. Violinist Heather Figi played the largely tonal violin part with a healthy Romantic flair, while the speaker contributed a surprisingly varied and expressive synthesized orchestral sound (for work generated in 1992!). The beautiful marriage of content, however, was marred slightly by a too-quiet speaker.
Andrew Rudin was programed on Great Noise's first public concert back in 2006, and this success earned him another performance - this time of a work written specifically for Great Noise, his Concerto for Piano and Small Orchestra. Rudin's mature writing was immediately evident in the length of his musical "chunks," presenting material for about 2-3 minutes before contrasting or drastically developing his thoughts. He seemed always to ride slightly ahead of my critiques. Just as I started to feel that he needed to increase the harmonic interest, he threw in a deliciously dissonant, emotive, pianistic cadenza. Just as the rhythms of the ensemble-driven second movement were in danger of becoming too ingrained, his music winked with some coy quintuplets and other variations.
Not afraid to please the listener, Rudin used rich tertian harmonies and frequent major sevenths that would mingle well with jazz and early twentieth-century sound worlds, as would the flashes of irregular meter and non-functional harmonies. The self-described "jovial" and "tongue-in-cheek" third movement brought virtuosic pianist Marcantonio Barone to the forefront again. A driving pulse was passed among various sections, leading to an impressive, muscular final cadenza and a brief, powerful whack of an ending. I would certainly pay to hear this work again.
A quick note on concert etiquette: do not change seats, snore, shuffle around, leave the room, or - worst of all - hold audible discussions during a live performance. That is all. (I hope the concert recording is salvageable.)
Low, dark colors were explored in a quintet by Great Noise tuba player Blair Goins. The bassoon and cello lent the piece a deep sound that only occasionally overpowered the violin, clarinet, and flute. The busy texture and prevalence of tertian planing made the listening experience refreshingly light and natural. Goins certainly showed an experienced sense of ensemble interplay as solos and duets were carefully balanced with full-ensemble sections. The textures of the first two movements, however, were a tad too similar to hold interest. The individual voices of the third movement were handled very well and complimented each other nicely, particularly the interesting accompanimental pairing of cello and low-range clarinet.
Great Noise director Armando Bayolo's Chamber Symhpony ("Illusory Airs") closed out the concert on a high note. The piece's largely sectional form, featuring somewhat abrupt alternations of dissimilar material, allowed Bayolo to extend his musical thoughts throughout entire coherent movements without falling into predictable patterns. The dark four-note opening theme formed an effective musical landmark that held sway even through to its return in the third movement.
Textural variety abounded through plodding quarter notes, intense rhythmic activity, and high , rapid figurations reminiscent of early Stravinsky. Use of the "rhythm section" in the second movement (piano, guitar and percussion) was timed expertly, with hits placed close enough to keep the listener's attention but far enough apart to avoid becoming tiresome. Bayolo demonstrated his careful ear for ensemble balance, especially in subdued moments with the guitar - a notoriously quiet instrument.
The work's final movement chugged along aggressively for a short while in irregular meters, followed by another drastic texture change. Most of the ensemble dropped out while the steady sixteenth-note pulse continued to lay a foundation for solo melodies. While much of the third movement was sufficiently intense to earn its place in a closing movement, Bayolo craftily conserved enough power for the closing to deliver a real kick. This final build-up truly gave the audience what it was waiting for - an exciting and almost optimistic rhythmic drive that lured the ear in, leading up to the moment in which the dark melodic fragment from the first movement mingled with and overpowered the existing brighter texture, producing that odd sense of "tense joy" so clearly explained in Bayolo's conception of the piece. The psychological fulfillment of such a nebulous, subjective goal through purely musical means was truly an impressive feat and a sign of both an experienced and exciting composer and a skilled, dedicated, tight ensemble.
Be on the lookout for future performances of Armando Bayolo's Chamber Symphony. This composition, like the ensemble that brought it into life, truly delivers on its ambitious promises.
Things started off with Barbara White's quirky and cute Learning to See. While most of the score garnered some level of interest, there were moments of real shimmer, like the bowed vibraphone tones that morphed into held tones of other instruments. Such orchestrational touches are always a welcome sign of a composer who has put some real thought into the details of her/his music.
Rothko-Tobery Continuum by Evan Chambers offered a sincere approach to electro-acoustic music, showing a solid sense of balance in content between its electronic and acoustic forces. Violinist Heather Figi played the largely tonal violin part with a healthy Romantic flair, while the speaker contributed a surprisingly varied and expressive synthesized orchestral sound (for work generated in 1992!). The beautiful marriage of content, however, was marred slightly by a too-quiet speaker.
Andrew Rudin was programed on Great Noise's first public concert back in 2006, and this success earned him another performance - this time of a work written specifically for Great Noise, his Concerto for Piano and Small Orchestra. Rudin's mature writing was immediately evident in the length of his musical "chunks," presenting material for about 2-3 minutes before contrasting or drastically developing his thoughts. He seemed always to ride slightly ahead of my critiques. Just as I started to feel that he needed to increase the harmonic interest, he threw in a deliciously dissonant, emotive, pianistic cadenza. Just as the rhythms of the ensemble-driven second movement were in danger of becoming too ingrained, his music winked with some coy quintuplets and other variations.
Not afraid to please the listener, Rudin used rich tertian harmonies and frequent major sevenths that would mingle well with jazz and early twentieth-century sound worlds, as would the flashes of irregular meter and non-functional harmonies. The self-described "jovial" and "tongue-in-cheek" third movement brought virtuosic pianist Marcantonio Barone to the forefront again. A driving pulse was passed among various sections, leading to an impressive, muscular final cadenza and a brief, powerful whack of an ending. I would certainly pay to hear this work again.
A quick note on concert etiquette: do not change seats, snore, shuffle around, leave the room, or - worst of all - hold audible discussions during a live performance. That is all. (I hope the concert recording is salvageable.)
Low, dark colors were explored in a quintet by Great Noise tuba player Blair Goins. The bassoon and cello lent the piece a deep sound that only occasionally overpowered the violin, clarinet, and flute. The busy texture and prevalence of tertian planing made the listening experience refreshingly light and natural. Goins certainly showed an experienced sense of ensemble interplay as solos and duets were carefully balanced with full-ensemble sections. The textures of the first two movements, however, were a tad too similar to hold interest. The individual voices of the third movement were handled very well and complimented each other nicely, particularly the interesting accompanimental pairing of cello and low-range clarinet.
Great Noise director Armando Bayolo's Chamber Symhpony ("Illusory Airs") closed out the concert on a high note. The piece's largely sectional form, featuring somewhat abrupt alternations of dissimilar material, allowed Bayolo to extend his musical thoughts throughout entire coherent movements without falling into predictable patterns. The dark four-note opening theme formed an effective musical landmark that held sway even through to its return in the third movement.
Textural variety abounded through plodding quarter notes, intense rhythmic activity, and high , rapid figurations reminiscent of early Stravinsky. Use of the "rhythm section" in the second movement (piano, guitar and percussion) was timed expertly, with hits placed close enough to keep the listener's attention but far enough apart to avoid becoming tiresome. Bayolo demonstrated his careful ear for ensemble balance, especially in subdued moments with the guitar - a notoriously quiet instrument.
The work's final movement chugged along aggressively for a short while in irregular meters, followed by another drastic texture change. Most of the ensemble dropped out while the steady sixteenth-note pulse continued to lay a foundation for solo melodies. While much of the third movement was sufficiently intense to earn its place in a closing movement, Bayolo craftily conserved enough power for the closing to deliver a real kick. This final build-up truly gave the audience what it was waiting for - an exciting and almost optimistic rhythmic drive that lured the ear in, leading up to the moment in which the dark melodic fragment from the first movement mingled with and overpowered the existing brighter texture, producing that odd sense of "tense joy" so clearly explained in Bayolo's conception of the piece. The psychological fulfillment of such a nebulous, subjective goal through purely musical means was truly an impressive feat and a sign of both an experienced and exciting composer and a skilled, dedicated, tight ensemble.
Be on the lookout for future performances of Armando Bayolo's Chamber Symphony. This composition, like the ensemble that brought it into life, truly delivers on its ambitious promises.
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