Ten More Albums: Silk Road Journeys and Social Music

These are reviews I posted on the website of the local public library.

Hans Abrahamsen: Let Me Tell You
(Barbara Hannigan, soprano; Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks; Andris Nelsons, conductor)
Shimmering, silvery tones from the half-light of dreams: this is opera of the imagination.

John Luther Adams: Become Desert
(Seattle Symphony; Ludovic Morlot, conductor)
This sequel to the Pulitzer-winning "Become Ocean" is the essence of symphonic ambience; with complicated (written) delay effects and extended techniques on the instruments, much of it sounds more electronic than orchestral. At any rate, it's gorgeous, and despite its title that suggests drying up or becoming a wasteland, it's also positive and triumphant. Worth as many listens as you can find time for.

Jon Batiste: Social Music
A fun album of virtuoso performances of original jazz compositions and some standards (including the Star-Spangled Banner!) in a number of styles (New Orleans, ragtime, Gospel, blues-jazz, free jazz, tango-infused Latin jazz, swing, Rhythm and Blues, 70's fusion, and a fusion of stride piano and Franz Liszt at the end), brought to you by the band (and its leader) from the Late Show with Stephen Colbert. There are hints of Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea and Hiromi, and the blues number is loud and forceful enough to remind me of Led Zeppelin despite its completely different instrumentation. But, despite the catalogue of different styles, it all holds together.

Ella (Fitzgerald) at Zardi’s
There must be some criminal conspiracy that kept these incredible recordings hidden away in the vault. These performances (by arguably the greatest jazz vocalist of the twentieth century) sizzle, and showcase Ms. Fitzgerald's smooth voice and skill at improvising. "Bernie's Tune" is the pure essence of vocal improvisation; her scat singing is both tightly disciplined and out of control ecstatic.

Heinz Holliger and György Kurtág: Zweigesprache
The solo oboe (with occasional other instruments) presents a strange, stark, and beguiling sound-world, light-years removed from the more familiar chamber music sound of the string quartet or violin and piano. Although all "contemporary", the pieces vary from strident or mysterious atonality to lilting folk tunes. The artistry is, of course, spectacular.

I’m with Her: See You Around
(Sarah Jarosz, Aoife O'Donovan, Sara Watkins)
The recording is beautiful and the performances are top-notch, as is to be expected from the line-up of this band. However, there isn't much variety in the "sound" of the band. The harmony singing is overused and sometimes a little insistent, reminding me at times of those 1970's rock records where every member of the band played during every second of every song (I'm looking at you, Boston). That said, there's quite a lot of variety between the songs themselves; instrumentation changes subtly, there are unexpected chord progressions ("See You Around" cycles between three keys, all in major but giving the effect of minor; "Ryland" is almost chromatic). Though obviously bluegrass, hints of other genres occasionally surface: more than once I'm reminded of vintage jazz/swing and the Andrews Sisters. The lyrics are deep expressions of the human experience, related metaphorically from everyday occurrences and little "slices of life", though few of them are particularly memorable. Supergroup, yes, but I think I prefer the individual members as solo artists: this is certainly not bad, but at the same time it could be better.

Isata Kenneh-Mason: Romance
These are great, nuanced performances of works by the great composer Clara Schumann. As often with music from the early Romantic period (i.e. Mendelssohn, Schubert, and Clara's husband Robert Schumann), these are friendly on the surface but full of complex compositional techniques that can be analyzed for hours. Not that it matters; listening is probably enough and this is a gorgeous recording.

The Knights: The Ground Beneath our Feet
This is one of those "new school" classical records that takes a clue from the pop world: the musicians form a "band" that produces "albums". This is a live recording that makes a beautiful and eclectic sonic experience, though there is a little trouble with volume consistency. There are two pieces that are familiar from the classical repertoire, from the 18th and 20th centuries respectively (Bach and Stravinsky), and three new pieces. The Bach C-minor Concerto (for oboe, violin and ensemble) sounds a little lackluster, though the Stravinsky "Dumbarton Oaks" concerto, which is made of jazzy syncopated riffs off of a style that would otherwise be close to Bach, is performed with such enthusiasm that I found myself dancing. The two new pieces frame these familiar works: Reich's "Duet" is a dreamy introduction, while the Concerto for Santur, Violin and Orchestra (co-composed by Siamak Aghaei and The Knights' Collin Jacobsen) is a larger work that sometimes uses unexpected sounds (such as what appears to be strumming, guitar-style, on the santur — a kind of hammered dulcimer). The last track is something completely unexpected: the song "Fade Away" is treated to a tour of worldwide musical styles. This will either be a plus or a minus depending on the listener. Each listener will probably bring away something different from this entire CD as well.

Radiohead: A Moon-Shaped Pool
This is a little different from some of the others by Radiohead that I've heard. This is Indie-Rock at its most dreamlike. Etherial and hypnotically ambient, with lush orchestrations beneath (it begins with a 'cello solo), this appears to be a meeting between Radiohead and Sigur Rós. It's also a blending of expectations: some of the string arrangements use note-bending and even microtones, the way a guitar solo might. Interesting and mysteriously beautiful.

Silk Road Journeys—When Strangers Meet
(Silk Road Ensemble, led by Yo-Yo Ma)
Epic music from the vastness of an ancient continental landmass. Though most of the music is "fusion" to some degree, there is a general movement of east to west (with a couple of pieces from the far northwest added for variety).

Stockhausen's Piano Pieces Seen from Within, but First: A Little Discussion on Serialism

There was a discussion about serialism on Facebook last week; I found it interesting and asked the participants if I could post it on this blog. They all said yes, so I’ll post it below (names changed except for “me”). It was inspired by a cartoon (by Kim Krans) of a rabbit undergoing various musical effects. And, in turn, it (the discussion) inspired me to take a look at a set of prose-poems that I had written some years ago; I had originally intended to do one of these for each of all of the Stockhausen piano pieces but the longer later ones didn’t seem to work as well in linguistic form.

ME: (Incidentally, "dissonance", as depicted there, is actually "serialism".)
LF: "Serialism?" I always thought of "serial" music as just being any music considered in terms of temporal order, not ever a style or movement or any other kind of ism.
ME: I meant the style like Boulez, early Stockhausen, etc., where pitches, durations, volume, timbre, etc., are all "serialized" or treated as blocks seperate from others, and subject to mathematical permutations. Like the rabbit parts in the picture.
LF: It seems a shame to waste such a useful word on a mere style name.
BH: Babbitt beat Boulez and Stockhausen to it, by several years, and saw things through to deeper depths. Odd how Americans are still conditioned to defer to Europeans in matters of “classical” music.
LF: But (per the rumors) Boulez and Stockhausen had CIA money behind them to combat what the USSR was spending on culture-propaganda.
ME: At last! A conspiracy theory that makes sense!
BH: A world in which countries’ spy agencies focused on covertly promoting new music would be a better world than this one.
ME: Concerning Babbitt: Boulez and Stockhausen were the first that came to mind; maybe because they have better-known pieces, to me, anyway.
BH: That’s my point. You’re hardly unusual there. The derivative Europeans get better PR than the American originator.
BH: Concerning the conspiracy theory: it reminds me of the Thai government quietly subsidizing Thai restaurants. Competing via deliciousness, not bombs.
LF: The "Babbitt" strand of American serialism is really a different animal than anything I have heard coming out of Europe, in that it is far more interested in the exploring the ramifications of the "math" involved.
ME: I have a similar take on it. It seems more "intellectual" and less "emotional"; that's neither a negative nor a positive statement. ...Then again, it that's true, then Elliott Carter's serial compositions are European...?!
LF: Elliott Carter is a whole other thingy than either of them.
BH: I’ve never thought of Boulez as emotional. Nor really Stockhausen, unless “space alien” is an emotion. I hear far more emotion in Philomel, and more wit in many other Babbitt pieces, than I hear in most of the European strand.…
ME: Stockhausen could very well be a space alien... lol
ME: Stockhausen's Piano Pieces IX and X are clearly emotional, at least to me.
BH: Well, the thesis of The Composer as Specialist is that “advanced” composers are engaged in cutting-edge research. Babbitt saw himself very much heading a musical vanguard. A difference is that he sought financial support from university…
ME: This "serial" discussion is getting interesting. Do any of you mind if I post it on my blog about music?
BH and LF: I’m OK with you including this in your blog, I suppose, if it is clear that my comment about CIA funding is rumor only.
ME: IF I'd known this discussion was going to take place, I would have labelled the bunny in the cartoon a "Babbitt Rabbitt".

Listen: Stockhausen's Piano Pieces I - IV

Stockhausen's PIano Pieces I - IV: From the Inside

I
Soft, loud, upward cascade of splintersounds, impressions come into focus. Hazes, blue-green, red cuts into opacity, shatters clearness.
I emerge into consciousness. I remember little from that time before times. Maybe there was something blue. Maybe it was yellow-orange. Was it shapeless? Or did it have a form, coalesced from the void, or from other forms? Maybe there was a bridge. Or a tree or a stone. Or was it a tunnel, or it was a floor, upside-down and sideways.
Sounds. Dark resonances. Bright bells peal. Gongs. Clusters of clangs and clip-clops, shadows of echoes.
Lights. Flickers. All colors. Turn off and on, bright, dim, inverted noises, vibrations are sounds are frequencies of hue. I hear and see only a little. Senses are not differentiated. I know nothing yet. I wait.

II
Learning. Hesitant. Reverberations come together. Jangles. One note here, two there.
One of those notes is me. Maybe I am a high C-sharp, brilliant and shining against the others. Or I am a low E-flat, dark and shadowy, deep in the dreamworld of protosound. It does not matter now, which note I am. Just know that I am one of the notes in these pieces.
The sounds are random. Or not random. These pieces are complex, mathematical beyond the perceptions of the ear. It is for that reason that I am learning. Comprehension grows as clang-clusters disentangle.

III
I become aware of other notes in a zigzag stream. I join them stepping upwards, sideways, turned around, downwards, louder, quieter. Then I retrace my steps.

IV
Remembrances. Hesitant. Resonances grow apart. Jingling. Two tones here, one there.
Others of those notes are not me, but I don’t know them yet. Maybe one is a high E-flat, glittering and glaring against the others. Or it is a low C-sharp, but bright and luminous, shallow in the waking world of aftersound. It does not matter now, what notes they are.
The sounds are not random, or they are random. These pieces are complicated, algebraic or geometrical beyond the sensing of the ear. It is for that reason that I am still learning. Understanding grows as cluster-clangs entangle.

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Ten more albums: Wind, Beauty, and Blues in a Kaleidoscope Superior

Well, it’s been a couple of years since I’ve posted anything here, and circumstances are still such that I can’t really go out an hear live music, let alone review it. So here are ten more albums I’ve heard in the last couple of weeks.

Count Basie: Good Morning Blues
Ancestral to a lot of today’s music (both “classical” and “popular”), and extremely creative. The title track features piano and trumpet solos that stretch the expressiveness of the instruments. The curators of this two-record (vinyl) set also set it up in a way seldom seen in anthologies of short pieces: the album as a whole has a “shape”. The songs are not only arranged chronologically (though partially), but: side one has big band numbers, side two has piano with bass and drums, side three starts to bring in other instruments in small combos, and side four (strangely labelled “Record Two Side Two”, a different system than the other three) begins with small combos but gradually brings back the big band. The last two pieces are for a very big (and loud) orchestra; a grand finale. It’s as if the Count himself planned this out as a multi-movement evening-long work, which he may have. Throughout, nearly everything is based on the familiar blues riffs, but everything keeps going in unexpected and often beautiful ways.

Miles Davis: Pangaea
Miles Davis and other jazz greats created this electric band that is a rarity: a jam band that doesn’t meander. Or maybe it meanders in the best possible way. The two 45-minute pieces are partially composed and probably conducted; pauses and shifts are coordinated and each improvised solo knows exactly when to stop. The result is a journey through a multifaceted soundscape (it’s fitting that the two tracks and the album are named after landscapes): driving rock-funk leads to magical skeins of African balafon; a flute floats over a web of hushed percussion and evolves into metal guitar. Listen several times: at first it’s like an adventure without a compass; by the second or third you’ll have an overall map but the moment-by-moment details are still surprising.

Toumani Diabate: Mande Variations
The delicate sounds of the kora: auditory dewdrops on an early morning spiderweb. If one listens closely, there are two koras and two styles of music: one, traditional pieces with long non-strophic melodies over ostinato accompaniments; two, freeform neo-impressionist improvisations played on a metal-stringed kora that resonates like a Celtic harp. Both are delicate, transparent, and beautiful.

Earthsuit: Kaleidoscope Superior
This little-known album of (Christian) reggae-rock (from 2000) is worth a revisit: it’s more than the boy band that it appears. Lyrics are often obscure but full of references; rhythms are off-meters as often as not (linking this to older “prog rock”); chord structures are derived from jazz standards. Snippets of Steve Reich minimalism complete the stylistic fusion. Somehow it all holds together and has a recognizable “sound”: a kaleidoscope superior with all the same hues.

Ensemble Organum (conducted by Marcel Pérés): Carmina Burana (The Passion Play)
The Carmina Burana manuscript doesn’t consist entirely of bawdy drinking songs; this “Gregorian” retelling of the crucifixion of Jesus is also there (though one bawdy song does manage to appear, as sung by Mary Magdalene pre-conversion). As always, Ensemble Organum’s interpretation is likely to be controversial: there is of course no particular evidence exactly when Gregorian chant evolved into the way it sounds presently, and no particular evidence how it sounded before then — so thirteenth-century chant (which was already a thousand-year tradition by that time) is open to interpretation. Here it’s given an “Eastern Orthodox” makeover with what’s been termed “Middle Easter warbling”: improvisational melismas overlaying the melodies and syllables of the chant. Recorded in a cathedral, a cavernous resonant space and the “authentic” location for this music, it results in lovely and evocative (and sometimes quite forceful!) echoes from a bygone century. This is especially true in the rare passages where the single melodic lines merge into harmony. The “storyline” cuts off before the Resurrection, emphasizing the sacrifice, leading into the possibility of later music in the same manner.

Morton Feldman: Why Patterns? Crippled Symmetry (Eberhard Blum, Nils Vigeland and Jan Williams)
Tiny gestures expand into giant canvasses of sound. Resonances emerge from, rail against, contain, and return to silence. Rhythms overlay in complex patterns. Overall, very quiet — yet very loud in context. This atonal minimalist music creates its own atmosphere and its own aesthetic. At the end, all reduces to a single note, lingering in a light-filled void, trailing into nothing and everything.

Haydn: Prussian Quartets (Tokyo Quartet)
At first listening: merely charming. The second or third time through: there’s extreme expression and complexity lurking beneath that “simple” exterior. The more you listen, the more you hear; the more you hear, the more you get drawn in. Two of my favorites are the very first track in the set (the first movement of Quartet no. 36), with its unexpected syncopations, and the very last track in the set (the fourth movement of Quartet no. 41); that quick repeated note on one of the violins anchors the piece through a series of episodes (some say it imitates the calling of a frog; I’m more inclined to hear it as a birdcall mixed with the buzzing of bees). Elsewhere there are charming melodies (often only a single, unfolding melody containing its own key-changes; a variation on the usually bi-melodic sonata form) and delicate nuances, played perfectly.

Photon Swim Break: Hazard II: Wind
Not particularly “hazardous”, this is dark ambient music derived from field recordings and phonography. The opening is particularly striking, where wave and wind sounds are processed to release their overtones (I am Not Sitting in a Room; Release the Kraken!) in a gradual accumulation of resonance.

Ryuichi Sakamoto: Beauty
There are plenty of examples of mixing (American or British Isles) folk music with rock and pop; here is another possibility. Japanese min’yo (a traditional style closely related to taiko drumming) mixes just as well with “pop” as other folk musics. Always surprising and often beautiful, and a proof (if you need another) that heterophony combines with chord-changes without a problem. The shamisen seems, here, to have been created to be a background rhythm instrument under keyboards and vocals. (There are also a couple of Afropop-fusion tracks in the middle, for which I have the same comments minus the shamisen.) Those positive statements aside, though, several of the songs have inane, pointless lyrics; and the “Chinese” version of Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” (played on the er-hu) sounds forced, particularly since they didn’t bother to re-tune the two instruments to match.

Word of Mouth Chorus: Rivers of Delight
One of only a handful of professional recordings of the American tradition of shape-note hymn singing, a loud, enthusiastic style of church music not particularly related to the more familiar Gospel music. The chorus sounds a little too polished at times (this is, in its original form, rough music), but delicate (!) beauty is often the result. The occasional solo passages are particularly exquisite.