Open Mike, Tim Noah's Thumbnail Theater, 8-5-2011

So the oft-asked question is, “What is an avant-gardist doing playing at an open mike?” The answer of course, is, “What are avant-gardists doing not playing at open mikes?” The music needs exposure. Open mikes are usually full of musicians playing various types of folk and traditional music (including acoustic versions of current and not too distant pop) but I’ve never known them to throw a classical, jazz, world music, or experimental musician off the stage (in fact they usually welcome these). …And I might add that most of the “traditional” musicians are really good; in this case, folk musicians and singer/songwriters who give perforances that are both skillful and deeply felt.

I’ve been to the Thumbnail several times before. Though about a half-hour’s drive from where I live (if there’s no traffic), it’s well worth the slight inconvenience. The open mike is in the large hall of the building (a former church, so the large hall was the sanctuary). There’s room for about fifty people. There is a homey, family atmosphere, a lot of humor, and friendly “regulars” who join in spontaneous bands. Basically it’s a lot of fun.

No, this is not actually the open mike that I’d written about a couple of postings ago that actively encourages experimental music. But they don't discourage it either. Highlights of this time included:

1. Wayne’s guitar work, both solo and (new for him) with other players. His solo pieces, all originals, are “new acoustic” music but so much more than that label would seem to indicate. For his group performances, he graced other songs and compositions with magical runs and filigrees, always understated, and always at exactly the right moment between verses or at other pauses in the singing.

2. Dawn singing rock songs. Her loud, gritty, powerful voice is somewhat reminiscent of Linda Rondstadt when she was singing top-40 rock (though of course Ms. Ronstadt’s voice is capable of any style of music she wants to sing). I commented to Dawn that, since Ms. Ronstadt has moved to singing classical, opera, and jazz now, that there was a gap in rock music that Dawn might be able to fill. Anyway, she sang one song a capella, then asked for a band. As happens frequently at this particular open mike, it was an audience participation extravaganza. No less that eight of the “regulars” jumped up on stage to form an impromptu band (with accordion, dobro, two guitars, mandolin, piano, bass guitar, and djembe). Dawn “conducted” this jam session while singing, like a true leader of the band, and everyone (including the audience) had a blast.

3. Jim and J.W., both regulars, both singing and playing Celtic-inspired ballads (on guitar, with Wayne as a second guitarist). J.W.’s was an original song, based on his own family history.

When it came to be my turn, I continued the prevailing Celtic atmosphere for the first piece. This was my arrangement of “Song of the Seals”, a Scottish ballad that I’ve actually only heard sung a capella by Jean Redpath. For my piano arrangement I added (rather basic) chords, usually rolled to sound like a Celtic harp; to highten this effect I pluck the melody directly on the piano strings at the beginning and end of the piece (though several people have suggested that the latter sounds more like a koto than a Celtic harp). There was a little time left, so I played a (very brief!) excerpt from my 9-hour “StormSound” Cycle, in the solo piano arrangement that I’d played in February at the Jack Straw Composers’ Spotlight. This particular excerpt attempts to reconcile “experimental” and “mainstream” music in a way that I’ve ofen attempted (though I’m never sure if I’ve actually succeeded) – the piano realizes a graphic score as a modal melody over a drone-minimalist piece (electronic, played on a speaker attached to my iPod). The end result doesn’t really sound “experimental” but it’s certainly not rock, hip-hop, or easy-listening. Judging from the audience response, they liked it.

Next time I might try something a little more shocking at first hearing. Since I’ve recently revisited my old set of piano pieces based on Japanese wood-block prints, I might try one of these. Two of them are “atonal” in the classic sense (i.e. twelve-tone in the manner of Webern), and one draws its inspiration from Morton Feldman. I’ll give one of these a shot. Just for fun. Stir things up a little.

CD Reviews: Triptet, Gagaku, Radiohead

Well, I thought I'd start this blog with the concert reviews that I mentioned in the last post, but... Here are some CDs that I’ve picked up or heard recently and are worth a second look. Oddly, only one is experimental in any way…




Triptet: Imaginary Perspective


“Triptet is a meeting of minds and spontaneous electrical impulses between Michael Monhart (saxophones and percussion), Tom Baker (guitars and effects), and Greg Campbell (percussion, french horn and cheap electronics.” (From Triptet’s website.)

I’ll give this recording three thumbs way up. This is a “free jazz” (?) combo from Seattle that abandons such conventional jazz ideas such as solos and song format, yet still somehow manages to preserve its jazz roots. For the most part the pieces are nebulous in nature. Drones and slow overtones interweave over rapid, understated drumming. The instruments are often indistinguishable; sax and electric guitar create a sonic haze that pulls their individual timbres into itself rather than revealing them. There are moments when other styles momentarily appear: the piece “Muffle and Hum”, for example, is a slow, atonal blues number. It appears to either be desperately trying to prove that it is the blues, or desperately trying to prove that it is not the blues, and succeeding on both counts. “Echolocation Song” features multi-tracking over metallic percussion (which is actually Tom Baker’s guitar). Always, however, the sonic haze returns to reclaim the music. The overall effect is sublime, ethereal, almost drone minimalism (but with that persistent jazzy drumming as an anchor that wouldn’t appear in true drone music). I recommend this recording for any “free jazz” or improvised music fans; but with one comment. “Free jazz”, with its wild riffs and uncontrolled squeals and honks, has often been compared to musical interpretations of Jackson Pollock paintings. This is different; much more subdued, more intimate. As it comes from Seattle, I would compare it to another Seattle visual artist: Mark Tobey.









Mark Tobey: Geography of Phantasy (1948)



The scattered background of drumming is like Tobey's "white writing" (a graphic technique also used by Morris Graves), and the foreground harmonics and drones are like Tobey's pastel colors – though of course in the music, their roles (foreground and background) are reversed.





Ono Gagaku Kai Society


I stumbled upon this Japanese court music when I was twelve years old or so, from a scratchy old record in the public library. I found it noisy, excruciating, incomprehensible, and I couldn’t stop listening to it. It seemed such an odd music, preserved (almost unnaturally) from the depths of time; music without a mid range (only piercing high notes and deep bass drums)…

Besides that old record, I’ve heard a few other recordings of it before, and once live at a folk music club (!) in Berkeley, CA – where they made the mistake of amplifying it to rock-n-roll levels (unnecessary, ridiculous, and it utterly destroyed the sound-world of the music). Of those recordings, this one is the most sonorous. There is a bright ambience to this recording and a fair amount of reverberation from the recording space itself, lending a delicate atmosphere to the already otherworldly sound of the music.

There are six pieces, some of which are among the oldest compositions still in use. “Gakkaen”, for example, is mentioned in manuscripts as early as 702 A.D. The first piece, “Entenraku”, is a standard gagaku piece (and probably the one with which anyone familiar with gagaku would be likely to recognize) – it is notable in that it actually gives the musicians a chance to finish tuning up while beginning the piece, before moving into the main section. I’ve also heard this practice in some recordings of Indian ragas – which brings up an odd point: gagaku originated in India, though in its travels through China, Korea, and finally to Japan, it changed beyond recognition. Comparisons with the ancient Chinese and Korean court musics shows this gradual change; to the modern ear, however, there is nothing obviously “Indian” about any of them. (From a musicological perspective there are a few more clues, such as the presence of long rhythmic cycles vaguely akin to Indian talas.)

Origins and theory aside, this is still interesting music; even (despite its completely unfamiliar aesthetic) beautiful. One doesn’t really need to know the theory to appreciate the music.




Radiohead: The King of Limbs


I picked up this one at the public library at the same time as the gagaku. Obviously it’s of a completely different genre…

It is, on the surface level, very typical of Radiohead. These are “rock” songs in name only. Complex layers of electronics form quasi-minimalist sound-spheres over understated bass and drums – the latter in rhythms that are often derived from recorded loops rather than “beats” and thus can’t always be counted evenly. As always, the lyrics can’t be easily heard or understood – this always seems to be on purpose, so that the vocal line is merely another part of the instrumental music (one is reminded of Sigur Ros’ “Parenthesis” and several of Stephan Micus’ works, where there are no actual words in the lyrics).

Careful listening reveals other influences that are starting to appear in Radiohead’s music. Melodically a few of the tunes (particularly “Lotus Flower”) recall the Beatles, though this is not obvious because it sounds completely different. “Codex”, with its slow mysterious keyboard and heavy reverb, could be a lost track by Pink Floyd. The electronica underneath some of the pieces resembles similar music by FourTet; there are even hints of Jon Hassel’s electro-trumpet experimentation – which seems to be gaining more and more cultural significance.

All of that said, this is not a mishmash. Somehow it all comes together like a larger composition in several movements – always a plus for a “pop” album that is basically a collection of unrelated songs. It’s well worth listening to at least once.

Introduction

Hope this doesn't sound redundant... This blog will be about (mostly experimental) music and sound art concerts that I've attended, some other music that I happen to be interested in, and some visual art; all from (mostly) the Seattle area. For those who've stumbled upon this blindly, it's a continuation of my earlier “StormSound Cycle” blog – but that one was mostly about the performance and composition of a single (very long) piece of music. Once the piece was performed, the blog wrapped up. This one is likely to continue…

The first postings will appear later this week. The next concerts I'm planning to attend are the upcoming John Cage tribute by Neal Kosaly-Meyer and (from the same evening!) an open mike at Woodland Park Presbyterian Church - an open mike that encourages experimental (and all other kinds of) music. Both are on Friday, August 12th, so maybe I'll find something to fill in, in this blog, before then.