Reviews
LIFE CYCLES – Friday Night at High Desert Soundings
Living and working in Los Angeles is no easy feat for anyone, especially for young musicians like myself. This fall, it has been incredibly difficult for me to find any time for a small change of pace, so I decided to look elsewhere, well beyond the city. Friday the 13th had been circled on my calendar for a while – it was meant to be a weekend I could escape the routine with my husband & my girlfriends, but instead, the world saw a steep and frightening descent into darkness as we journeyed into High Desert.
Suddenly, with horrors of genocide looming over our heads, music became secondary. The four of us were reminded of how privileged we are, to be traveling in love & safety at a time like this. We felt a sudden wave of helplessness, being so far removed from the dire situation in Gaza. Seeing many of my colleagues gather in modest comfort, in a place like Twentynine Palms, and seeing artists from all walks of life come together at The Palms for High Desert Soundings to experiment with the healing powers of silence & noise gave me a sense of (re)new(ed) purpose. I have put this review off for far too long, having recently been perturbed with waves of grave inhumanity and sternly occupied with my personal, unrelenting activism against the ongoing apartheid. I have finally decided – this is the only way forward for me.
I shall begin with Life Cycles, by Stephanie Cheng Smith, one of the headliners of Friday night, and certainly the most appropriate set for the long days our civilization faces ahead. Part of an ongoing sound installation, Stephanie has amassed in her own words “eighty-four cicada apparati separated into seven broods, installed long term as an accelerated representation of overlapping periodical life cycles of different broods and species of cicadas.” And to High Desert, she carried only less than a handful cicadas with her. Accompanied by the faint crackle of firewood and the lovely smell of sand & smoke, her cicadas were as cryptic as the desert animals themselves, joining the little grey moths dancing above our tables in glistening twilight. It was truly a quiet meditation, a gentle reminder for us all to breathe deeply with love & intention. A contrast to some of the more provocative noises we have heard tonight, Stephanie’s work gave us a glimpse at how interconnected we are with the environment around us, and how everything we know is precious simply because it is impermanent. Indeed, it is true that annual cicadas are species that emerge asynchronously every year. Before emerging from darkness to find their mates with song, their life cycles can vary from one to seventeen years living as underground nymphs. We must remember, as the limits of music technology continue to defy all odds in a post-Cageian, postmodern musical landscape, nature will only continue to journey alongside us, surprising us with an honest reflection of our own organismic values and behaviors.
To send us off into the stars of the night, Technical Reserve returned us to a jarring, industrialized reality. A trio of two laptops & one pedaled-up cello, Hunter Brown, Dominic Coles, and TJ Borden threw an eclectic & original vernacular at us – one that no one was ready for. With shades of Morton Feldman’s late cello works and the subtle foreshadowing of the implications of artificial intelligence, Technical Reserve tautly flexed their outstanding expertise in an astonishing, semi-improvised set. Around midnight, it seemed as if we were launched into an immersive historical survey, illustrated by paradoxically paired genres of structureless free jazz and rigid serialism. Through jurassic growls, explosive feedback, silences of space, and instruments of war, the trio suggested that what makes us unique as human beings is our unwavering curiosity. At this point, the outdoor classroom that is the quaint courtyard of The Palms were now littered with stimulated, engaged minds, with Bach, Coltrane, and Stockhausen acting as our instructors on behalf of the trio sitting in front of us.
The road ahead is long, and our humanity is being put on full display. We must continue to lead with hope & fight urgently for freedom. Our resiliency will show not only through activism, but also through the thread of all humanities – in literature & the arts. High Desert Soundings has given me an important moment to breathe and a second chance to do what is right in fighting with courage for human rights. I am most certain many of those in attendance returned home feeling the very same.
“Clouds” emerge and dissipate throughout Monkspace
On October 10th 2023, I found myself at Monk Space attending my first concert presented by People Inside Electronics (PIE). The concert was the premiere of a new fifty minute piano piece “Songs and Clouds” written by Matt Sargent and performed by Andrew Anderson. While this was my first experience at a PIE event, this is far from my first time hearing Matt’s music performed. I first met Matt during my undergraduate studies at The Hartt School in Connecticut. I took a few electronic music classes with him and soon after we developed a professional relationship performing and recording each others music.
One of the pieces I’ve worked on with Matt is his piece “Third Illumination” which was recorded and premiered by my percussion duo with Katie Eikam, desoduo. “Third Illumination” is part of Matt’s “Illumination Series” a series which uses a generative score that creates materials for the performer to read in real time. This generative score creates a unique performance and allows a variance to exist in each performance. The generative score is also the basis for “Songs and Clouds;” in the moments most closely resembling music from the Illumination series, a lush bed of sustained harmonic material from the electronics underlines the piano, in which it gently sits and emerges through small melodies and additive patterns.
However, as the materials present themselves and disperse over the course of the performance
it becomes clear these processes are unique to “Songs and Clouds;” this is a different harmonic one, one which deserves its own moniker, rather than sharing a name with the aforementioend Illumination Series. Several years ago I saw Matt’s piece “Separation Songs.” also at Monk Space, as part of Cold Blue Music’s release of Matt’s album of the same name. “Separation Songs” uses musical material from the New England composer William Billings’ Songbook. The use of the Billings material, though most heavily utilized in to “Separation Songs,” is subtly present here in “Songs, Clouds.” The result of employing these songs as melodic material in this generative process is a harmonic landscape that, emotionally, borders on sentimental, but has an underlying complex process that unfolds melodies which keeps the listener present.
In addition to being a composer, Matt Sargent is also a performer. This week I’ve had the chance to see him perform several times on pedal steel guitar. I couldn’t help but notice that Andrew and Matt have very similar presences as performers. Both of them, but especially Andrew, present information matter-of-factly. In Andrew’s performance of “Songs and Clouds” there are no extra performative movements or gestures beyond what is needed to showcase the material, in the most efficient manner possible. The music and the material speaks for itself through Andrew’s mastery as a performer. Andrew’s touch is subtle and delicate. His control over the dynamic possibilities of the piano allows him to glide freely
from section to section. His execution in differentiating the rising melodic lines while delicately playing chordal clouds at a softer dynamic are paramount to the success of the piece.
This was the season opener for People Inside Electronics and if so this was an incredibly strong start. If this is the direction PIE continues to go in, then this will certainly be far from my last PIE concert. I eagerly look forward to whatever they plan on offering to the concert goer next, as well as seeing what will come next from Andrew and Matt.
https://www.mattsargentmusic.com/
https://andrewandersonpiano.com/
https://peopleinsideelectronics.com/
M A Harms and Matt LeVeque confront perfection and intimacy in “i am no longer afraid to run”
On Friday September 22nd 2023, composer/percussionists Matt LeVeque and M A Harms premiered their co-composed evening length piece, i am no longer afraid to run, at the Automata Theater in Chinatown. This highly personal 45 minute video/performance piece juxtaposes LeVeque’s live percussion playing with Harms’ text/video manipulation to present a collaged portrait of two idiosyncratic artists/people.
As a composer myself, I understand how tempting it can be to write a piece drawing from personal experiences, but then hide any semblance of intimacy behind layers of instrumental abstraction. LeVeque and Harms do no such thing, instead ripping their hearts out live on stage and laying them bare in the lines and spaces of candid iPhone notes. Text drives the piece’s narrative, as Harms intermittently live-types diary-esque revelations on an unadorned Google Docs file. The text is honest and direct: no pussyfooting. Both artists share their struggles with perfection, performance, and identity without the promise of an epiphany. These entries slowly elucidate context for the piece’s origins and for LeVeque’s and Harms’ relationship. We learn that the piece has changed drastically over the course of collaboration, bringing our attention to the tumultuous compositional process that composers far too often romanticize. In fact, relationships, both interpersonal and internal, provide the thematic backbone for much of i am no longer afraid to run.
As friends and collaborators, each composer has had a profound impact on the other. LeVeque’s solo practice revels in the singularity of an idea, taking a sound and magnifying it under a microscope. Harms, on the other hand, indulges the maximal: grotesquely beautiful bodies of noisy garbage allow them to sculpt a space for themself. But rather than stagnate in this seemingly oppositional binary, these artists establish a truly hybrid practice in which each of their subjectivities shine. Harms makes this evident through their live layering of pre-recorded samples of LeVeque, accompanying his live performance. They layer LeVeque’s entire practice onto itself; a live vibraphone playing a dyad blends seamlessly with multiple digital vibraphones as multiple time-spaces coalesce. LeVeque’s instrumental choices are clearly guided by an intense relationship with each instrument, one that Harms twists and contorts into a shared vision. But LeVeque still stays true to their artistic ethos, always reeling Harms back towards singularity. Bound by the limitations of the other, their practices melt together into a gooey soup: deliciously decadent and sparse. Such fusion is essential to the piece, as i am no longer afraid to run questions binaries between the physical and virtual, between past and present, and between each artist’s personal understanding of identity and gender.
Every detail of the piece feels personal. The directness of Harms’ frantic google searches and file directory scrollings question the cold sleekness of conventional video and audio cueing. These barebones hyperrealistic transitions make it clear that there is nothing perfect or pristine about vulnerability. LeVeque’s playing investigates every ridge in their honey dipper mallet and every micro-indentation in their vibraphone: a realization of a hyper-focused performance practice. Even their shadow, occasionally cast over Harms’ words, feels like a clash of subjectivities with LeVeque’s presence felt in Harms’ text. The ending of the piece, in which both Harms and LeVeque perform a vibraphone and marimba duet over LeVeque’s heartfelt iPhone note, signifies a gratifying hug between the two.
Harms and LeVeque set the bar for work which is wholeheartedly honest: never dangling the possibility of some great revelation but instead pulling a curtain back on the facade of grandiosity. Maybe none of us really know what we are doing. And only by recognizing that anxiety, can we truly begin to do the work that we feel is necessary.
INSATIABLE SCISSORS, ANTI-ART, & PINBALL MACHINES – A Remembrance of Clarence Barlow
What seemed to be another Tuesday night turned into an honorable celebration of the remarkable life of Klarenz Barlow. Through fun, quirky snapshots of his ever evolving musical works, his varied research interests in technology & language, and of course, his hilarious fascination with the infinite ways to spell his own name, it was hard not to feel the warmth & impact he has left on our community. It was only fitting that this celebration coincided with the opening night of the tenth anniversary season of Brightwork’s Tuesdays @ Monk Space, now a storied institution in the LA new music concert scene. A joint curatorial effort between Shalini Vijayan of Brightwork newmusic and Barlowe protégés Brandon J. Rolle and Nick Norton of Ensemble Barlow, eager attendees were presented with eight, drastically different works that served to give only a glimpse of the diverse compositional ideas Barloh was capable of.
Let’s start with Four ISIS Studies, the elephant in the room and perhaps the most sonically strange piece on this colorful program. In 2005, Barlö quietly published an essay on Intra-Samplar Interpolating Sinusoids (ISIS), the perfect example of one of those little research interests I had mentioned earlier. Stemming from a substantial branch of his studies from the tree of Karlheinz Stockhausen, as well as the many long summers he had spent at Darmstadt developing their computer music program, this audio analysis-synthesis algorithm became a way of thinking for Barlow. In his first study, Für Gimik: Vortag über ISIS, our ears were coated with percolating computer sounds reminiscent of the spaceship from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Played in a quadrophonic array, the audience experienced a recording in german set to a Space Mountain ride of thrilling sine-tone runs. With Eleven Steps In Staying a Kingly Dream, our setting turned into an abstracted alternative of the MLK Speech, accompanied by bubbling hyperpop noises and interrupted by jarring beeps. In the third study, Untitled/Oil on Metal, Wood, we felt gentle tension from a low rumbling underneath a myriad of industrial sounds. Lastly, in Ceci nest pas une oeuvre d’art, we were presented with anti-art from another extraterrestrial, organismic instrument that could’ve been dreamt up by Sun Ra himself, serenading us with indistinct lyrics & pleasant backup harmonies generated from the robotic algorithm.
Fast forward to Pinball Play, a mesmerizing piece written for four soprano Bohlen-Pierce clarinets. But for this concert, we were gifted with Brightwork staple Brian Walsh who covered the jobs of four clarinetists on his very own (with the help of Nick Norton once again manning the electronics). Playing to a click, Walsh manages to sound even better than four live clarinetists would, as his playful gestures cascade off of pre-recorded sounds with impeccable timing, creating an inescapable atmosphere of a masterful merry-go-round.
Finally, Ensemble Barlow closed the program with Sachets des ciseaux Insatiables, with Brandon J. Rolle at the podium. The last time this piece was performed at REDCAT was the only time Rolle’s mother had ever seen him conduct. This work exemplifies Barreleaulx’s signature outlook on his compositional style – he never once concerned himself with writing experimental music for the sake of sounding modern. The first movement opens up with a wood block ostinato, followed by wind players expanding the palette in the style of jazz you would find in a typical American film noir. Here, Sarah Wass shines on the flute, and once again, Brian Walsh opens up the dynamics of the movement with pentatonic flourishes on the clarinet. As we attacca into the second movement, we find ourselves a blank canvas, waiting to be colored. In an unexpected turn of events, those melodies have now been abused by Barlovicus algorithms, dotting an impressionist painting you would find in a typical modern museum. Here, Nick Terry demonstrates his brilliance with a traditional four-mallet grip, spanning the entire width of the marimba and hitting obfuscated passages with ease. In the finale movement, we face descending lines of brooding character, building tension towards the very end. And as we approach the coda, we are entranced by a slow, melancholic dance. The trumpet melody rests in a major tonality while the clarinet & flute layer minor lines, creating a polytonal texture, but only so he could end the entire piece with a cute, storybook “V-I” finish.
At the end of this profound night, we are left with more questions than answers…how will Barlow’s sounds permeate through contemporary canonical literature? How will his legacy carry on in his work, his pedagogy, his research? How will we remember his warm personality and uncanny ability to bring people together? No doubt, the forces of nature at Brightwork & Ensemble Barlow would respond – some questions are better left unanswered.
Curated by Brandon Rolle and Nick Norton, this evening is dedicated to remembering beloved composer Clarence Barlow through his music and writings.
The program will include a varied retrospective of Barlow’s works including quarantasette estratti da un vicolo ludofilo, ISIS studies, Sachets des ciseaux insatiables, KLAVIERSTÜCK Für Luise, Pinball Play, Für Simon Jonassohn-Stein, and Fantasy Prelude Miscibly Interfused.
The entire audience is invited to stay for a post-concert reception to share memories and celebrate Clarence.
8:00pm. Tuesday Sep 12, 2023 at Monk Space (4414 W. 2nd Street Los Angeles, CA 90004)
Meredith Monk and the Bang on a Can All-Stars present an unforgettable evening at The Ford with MEMORY GAME
On a perfectly mild LA night, the stage at the Ford is bathed in blue light and awaiting the entrance of the legendary Meredith Monk and the Bang on a Can All-Stars. The All-Stars enter and, without any pause, launch into the first song of MEMORY GAME, Meredith Monk’s 2020 album featuring her vocal ensemble as well as the All-Stars, with arrangements by Bang on a Can founders Julia Wolfe, Michael Gordon, and David Lang, as well as veteran All-Star member Ken Thomson and Monk herself with Allison Sniffin (Monk Vocal Ensemble member). Like most of the pieces to follow, “Spaceship” (arrangement by Gordon) begins with gently repetitive ostinati by Thomson and pianist/keyboardist Vicky Chow. The way the ensemble blends and trades their ostinati is beautifully characteristic of Gordon’s orchestration style, and reminds this writer of his “Gene Takes a Drink” (also written for the All-Stars) at more than one moment.
As thunderous applause breaks out, Monk, dressed in all red, enters the stage with her vocal ensemble (Theo Bleckmann, Allison Sniffin, and Katie Geissinger). She introduces the next set of songs from her 1983 sci-fi opera “The Games,” which she wrote in West Berlin while hearing missiles firing overhead just before the Olympics. Monk explains the piece is set in a post-apocalyptic world, where the survivors are either on a spaceship or possibly another planet, and have rituals to remember “Earth culture.” As the piece is about “the aesthetics of fascism”, this post-apocalyptic society also features a leader who seems like a rockstar but is actually a dictator (portrayed by Theo Bleckmann on stage).
This becomes perfectly clear during The Gamemaster’s Song, during which Bleckmann’s character slowly descends deeper into caricature through increasingly comic choreography over carnival-esque instrumentals. Bleckmann’s portrayal is so convincing it becomes easy to forget for a large portion of the piece that this character is a dictator, until three-quarters of the way through when Bleckmann slowly introduces a degree of audible menace into the otherwise cartoonish vocalizations meant to lure unsuspecting citizens of this surviving society.
“Migration” follows with a stark change of mood, introduced by the vocal ensemble and Chow in firmly minor territory and wordless “wahs,” before Arlen Hlusko renders a beautiful cello melody that makes the melancholy feeling complete. Eventually, Bleckmann speaks about pre-apocalyptic Earth and those who lived there, comparing those humans to these in a new society. As a testament to the inevitable displacement of peoples due to fascism/dictatorships, “Migration” is deeply effective and is both the most somber and the most moving piece on the program.
The rest of the Games set is no less stunningly executed by this group of legendary musicians in variable ensemble configurations, before Allison Sniffin and Vicky Chow deliver a sort of nonsense aria for voice and electric piano; this is “Waltz in 5s” from “The Politics of Quiet” (arr. Sniffin and Monk). “Waltz” is the second most somber piece next to Migration, and though wordless, Sniffin’s soaring and rich voice fills the air with nostalgia. Before “Tokyo Cha Cha” from Turtle Dreams Cabaret (arr. Sniffin), Monk explains this song was written after her first trip to Japan, during which she expected to be deeply inspired by
the ancient Japanese culture she always loved, but instead found herself fascinated by the techno-futuristic culture of Tokyo. The song slowly builds from just “s-s-s-ch-ch-ch-“ vocalizations by the vocal ensemble to unapologetically fun grooves carried by the entire ensemble, complete with shakers, relaxed guitar by veteran All-Star Mark Stewart, vocalists chanting “let’s cha-cha, you happy, let’s cha-cha, all happy…” and fittingly adorable choreography. At this point, it becomes hard to believe Monk is 80 years old, as she sings and moves with such passion and ease around the stage.
“Totentanz” from Impermanence (arr. Lang) is only the second piece that allows the vocalists to take a break, as the All-Stars delve into the rock groove-oriented and syncopated arrangement by Lang featuring Stewart playing a rock kick drum as well as guitar. The last official piece on the bill (and album) is “Double Fiesta” from Acts from Under and Above and immediately begins with an incredible show of vocal fireworks from Monk as she leaps from register to register with acrobatic precision on a myriad of syllables one could believe were improvised, if they weren’t also the same on album recording. By the end of the song, after Monk has told us a story about meeting “a very nice girl”, the band is rocking out while the entire vocal ensemble slowly enters the stage and starts dancing; it is near impossible to not have a smile plastered on your face (assuming you haven’t already audibly laughed multiple times).
As the first in a series of encores, Monk offers “Panda Chant” with the entire ensemble standing in a line, singing, stepping in rhythm, and clapping, which the audience absolutely goes wild for. She then proceeds to the hilarious “Education of the Girlchild” in which she very convincingly adopts an old crone voice to portray an old woman bargaining with death and boasting about still having her “pens, mind, money under the bed, telephone, allergies…” among other things. The final encore consisted of a true Monk solo called “Insect Descending”, which she wrote while in New Mexico during the 70s. As if the audience wasn’t astonished enough already by the seemingly inexhaustible catalog of vocal sounds Monk has access to, “Insect Descending” really does sound just like what it’s called, and proved to be a hilarious and succinct treat to this tight 75-minute program that left the audience uplifted and energetic; an experience we won’t soon forget.
MEMORY GAME is both a look back at a pivotal point in Meredith Monk’s storied career, and a richly layered portrait of how vocal music—under the guidance of an indefatigable master—can play with our expectations in poignant and compelling ways. For this journey, Monk and her ever-versatile vocal group join forces with Bang on a Can All-Stars, whose “lean, emphatic, and muscular execution suits the precision of Monk’s writing perfectly” (The Wire).
8:00pm. Thursday Aug 31, 2023 at The Ford LA (2580 Cahuenga Blvd E, Los Angeles, CA 90068)
GHOST GUN, VIOLA JOKES, & FOLGERS IN YOUR CUP – A Night of Clever Storytelling with Aperture Duo
In the quiet aftermath of Hurricane Hilary, an adventurous crowd gathered at the intimate Monk Space in Koreatown, fresh out of unexpected hibernation. In return, they were gifted several memorable stories in the form of spiritual guidance from Adrianne Pope & Linnea Powell, the two cornerstones of Aperture Duo.
On the menu were two brand new specials commissioned by the duo and workshopped with the composers in recent weeks, starting with Thomas Kotcheff’s delightful Obbligato String Music No. 1: Allegretto in G Minor. Much more than an appetizer, Thomas masterfully weaves together a series of discordant ideas from vastly different genres, taking the audience for a whirlwind of a journey. One could quickly discover tasteful moments of microtonal dissonance between the violin & viola, as well as between live sounds & pre-recorded samples. Through Aperture Duo’s confident approach to tackle everything from recreating classical standards to accompanying altered versions of the Folgers jingle (a musical stunt that has unsurprisingly generated over $40,000 for the coffee company), we can now begin to see the bigger picture that is the clever collage of eons of compositional techniques and motifs, melting together into a beautiful, hot mess. In a way, the true meaning of obbligato is reinforced by this mesmerizing work, contributing to the inextinguishable lineage of canonical literature while effectively challenging the notion of what is considered pure or fixed in the classical genre. It is through this strange paradox that Kotcheff was able to keep the audience deeply engaged in a dizzying fashion, as we felt the tension of all of his conflicting melodies spiraling into instability, only to find itself pieced together again.
The entrée of the night is most certainly their second commission, Jessie Marino’s incomparable Murder Ballads Volume I: Sister Sister. A departure from her usual works, these ballads showcase a stunning tapestry that revealed the unbreakable trust Pope & Powell hold for one another. Much of the night encouraged Aperture Duo to sing their soulful hearts out, but through these vulnerable, haunting ballads, the two performers were compelled to melt their voices & instruments into a powerful quartet of bagpipe & storytelling. A strong parallel to Kotcheff’s earlier work in the program, Marino continues to explore the concept of time through meaningful libretto meant to stand as timeless. In both the first and last ballad of this four-part song, O Death and Ghost Gun, Marino lit an angry flame under us with her unfiltered, fed-up emotions reflecting on the living state of profitable, senseless violence that is the American gun problem. In a country where we have experienced over 400 mass shootings this year with over four months left, at a terrifying pace greater than two mass shootings a day, the powerful composite of folk harmonies, vivid thoughts, painful overdrive, and screeching feedback left a stinging taste in the mouths of many. While O Death touched upon the national bitterness over the unfair immunity of police brutality, Ghost Gun properly detailed the grave threat of endless violence we face at every corner of our neighborhood, without fail or warning. The inner ballads, Edward and Twa Sisters, are no less powerful than the former, serving as a shocking reminder that while murder isn’t new, its dirty cousin, systemic violence, is a unique weaponized threat to modern society. In Edward, we find an old English elegy full of regret & sorrow, while the tale of Twa Sisters is based on an actual 17th century murder ballad of a girl drowned by her jealous sister. In Marino’s version, however, it isn’t the jealous sister who descends into murder, but rather, the bloody violence of Johnny, transforming into a hexed act that persists to haunt him until the very end. I believe this particular distinction falls in line with the rest of the ballads, emphasizing the radical normalization of systemic violence enacted by people in positions of privilege and power.
From Kotcheff & Marino, we are faithfully presented with the reality of the myriad of pertinent challenges we are facing in an unprecedented climate. From Pope & Powell, we learn that these very real challenges can be faced head on, with limitless imagination. And to the devout followers of Aperture Duo, I believe they are venturing into a new and inimitable realm of contemporary classical excellence.
Join Aperture Duo (Adrianne Pope, violin and Linnea Powell, viola) in an evening of boundary-pushing new music featuring world premieres by Berlin-based composer Jessie Marino and LA-based composer/pianist Thomas Kotcheff. Join LA’s own Aperture Duo as they explore the shiny, surreal, and sometimes scary depths of chamber music for violin and viola.
7:00pm. Tuesday Aug 22, 2023 at Monk Space (4414 W 2nd St, Los Angeles, CA 90004)
The Revolution Will Not be Televised: T@MS presents an evening of ‘canceled’ string orchestra pieces
It’s a little after 8pm at Monk Space, where the final and sold-out show of this year’s Tuesdays at Monk Space (T@MS) is about to take place. The orchestra heads from the back of the narrow hall to the blue-lit stage, single-file, through the center of the packed crowd, trying not to hit anyone with their instruments. Anthony Parnther greets an audience of “a lot of familiar faces” brimming with anticipation as he explains in a rich baritone that the pieces to be played on tonight’s concert were all ones he had previously agreed to conduct elsewhere, but for some reason or another (“politics or something else”) were canceled. The title for the evening’s concert is already starting to reveal its relevance.
Carlos Simon’s “Elegy: A Cry From the Grave” is the first piece on the program, and is dedicated to Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, and Michael Brown; three names that ring out with a lot of impact since the events of the summer of 2020 and the BLM movement. Parnther introduces the piece with all the gravitas one would expect given the subject matter, but also lets the audience know that the piece is more “optimistic in tone” than one might expect. Indeed, between the lush, romantic melodies; exuberant outbursts from the cellos on top of violin tremolos, and dramatic swells that suddenly become silence, Elegy does seem to suggest a sort of peace as it lands on its final major chord after several quasi-Romantic harmonic shifts.
Perhaps one of the most delightful moments of the evening happened when Parnther introduced the second piece, Leilehua Lanzilotti’s “with eyes the color of time,” for which she was named a Finalist in the Pulitzer Prize competition last year. To Parnther’s surprise, Lanzilotti was present in the audience, which was even more special because this was apparently only the second group ever to perform the piece live. Lanzilotti explained that each movement of the piece is named after a work of art that used to be in the now-closed Contemporary Art Museum of Honolulu, where she would run around as child because their apartment was too small. As each movement played, a picture of the corresponding artwork was projected overhead. For this writer who has known Lanzilotti virtually for several years, and has adored this piece ever since finding the score-follower video, this really was the perfect way to experience the piece live for the first time. The viola’s sul pont. long tones and 4-3 suspensions that open the piece made the entire room suddenly feel enchanted, as if the entire audience was holding their breath. Over the next six movements, Parnther and the orchestra adeptly execute the wild variety of string colors
that is so emblematic of Lanzilotti’s music, from scratching sounds and pitches so faint the audience almost wondered if they were real, to full on sul pont bariolage by the violins that get disrupted by the cellos violently throwing their bows against the strings, and (spoiler alert!) the percussion and vocal hums that are sure to catch an audience at a string orchestra concert off-guard. After all, she’s somewhat of an authority on wild sounds. A long line of fans waits to greet Lanzilotti (including yours truly), many telling her how deeply the piece affected them as we break for intermission.
After intermission, Parnther’s own work (from which the evening’s title was taken) throws politics back in to focus. He explains “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” takes its name from the 1971 poem by Gil Scott-Heron, and both the poem and tonight’s namesake are addressing the state of affairs in the country at the time; namely, that we are currently watching a slide into fascism take place in the US. Amidst the recent smattering of U.S. Supreme Court decisions, both this work and the evening’s theme as a whole suddenly take on a painful poignance. Thankfully, Parnther offers us another moment of levity with effortless charisma before introducing Dwight Trible, the narrator joining the orchestra for this piece. As a mellow percussion beat takes hold, the strings enter with frantic glissandi, before Trible begins powerfully narrating over angular pizzicato and vocal “ch-“ sounds from the orchestra. Suddenly, the entire orchestra builds to a frenzy as Trible booms “will NOT be televised” repeatedly, before stopping on a dime, and then a final growl from Trible: “The revolution will be LIVE!”. The audience appears to agree as they uproariously applaud.
The final piece is an arrangement of Shostakovich’s “Chamber Symphony in C Minor” by Barshai. Unusual in that of the five movements, three are “Largo”, the Chamber Symphony, as Parnther explains, was written by Shostakovich for string quartet in 3 days while living in Dresden, Germany in 1960 and is dedicated to victims of fascism and war. He explains that this piece contains several allusions to previous works, and asks the first violinist (Alyssa Park) to play Shostakovich’s name motif for the audience “D-Eb-C-B” or “Dssch” in German. The name motive does indeed permeate most of the piece quite audibly, opening the first movement before Park’s haunting, highly chromatic violin solo over the rest of the orchestra suspended on one note. The second movement begins furiously with wild runs and repeated, screeching downbows that recall Hermann’s score for Psycho and is the first real head-banger of the evening. In the following movements, the orchestra moves seamlessly through off-kilter waltzes (2 nd mvmt), violently repeated chords in bursts of 3 (4 th mvmt), before Park begins the 5 th movement with
another solo answered by the low strings. The cellos eventually circle back to the name motive, which begins to disintegrate, and the ensemble seems to evaporate on its last D-Eb half-step. A tremendous accomplishment for Parnther, this entire roster of string players, and a triumphant season finale for T@MS, The Revolution Will Not Be Televised will also not be forgotten anytime soon by those who were lucky enough to witness it.
Conductor, Music Director, and Bassoonist Anthony Parnther curates an evening at T@MS for conducted string orchestra featuring music inspired by courage, strength, and resistance to oppression.
8:00pm. Tuesday Jun 26, 2023
On Maura Tuffy and singers’ “Path of Miracles” by Joby Talbot: “This is about as tight as a non-static choral group of this size could possibly be, performing a work of this size and complexity”
On May 26, 2023, Maura Tuffy led a choir of 17 singers in a full performance of Joby Talbot’s Path of Miracles at All Saints’ Episcopal Church in Beverly Hills.
Joby Talbot’s musical output is eccentric; scores for The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and Sing adorn his resume, right next to a large number of music for dance, arrangements for pop stars Paul McCartney and Charlotte Gainsbourg, as well as purely ‘concert’ works such as Path of Miracles. Visiting his website, his landing page simply reads “Joby Talbot is a composer of music for concert, stage and screen,” the brevity of which seems to belie the depth at which he is involved with all three.
A single, low, unison note begins in the tenors and basses – who are the only singers seen on stage – its resonance shifting through changes in vowel shape. Another pitch coming from below, then rising through it, begins a pattern that will become clear in just a moment; Talbot is evoking a Shepard tone, an auditory illusion which seems to continually rise without ever ending. From the BBC’s Bang Goes the Theory, “it’s like a barber’s pole of sound.”
The sopranos and altos proclaim from the balcony behind the audience. The crotales, performed by Yuri Inoo, signal the higher voices to join the lower. They walk through the aisles, flanking left and right, until they find their marks. This (and all future) transitions are tightly choreographed; the ensemble occasionally loosens their rigid lines to flex into a slightly different configuration. Without cues, singers depart from the group to form solo quartets, and, at the very end, the singers flank left and right once again, beginning the piece as it started.
On the way, Path of Miracles visits Roncesvalles, Burgos, León and Santiago along the Camino de Santiago, an (in)famous pilgrimage route in the Roman Catholic tradition; some members of the choir and the audience, in a brief pre-concert talk, raised their hands when asked who had made the trek themselves. In some moments, parallel whole tone and octatonic scales evoke Debussy; in others, you can hear a “Dies Irae” melody snuck in.
I must praise Maura Tuffy’s conducting here; full disclosure, Maura and I met in the choral department at USC, and are friends. In a few words, choral conducting is difficult; you need to show clear beats and gestures while making sure singers don’t disengage their breath support, an issue which is usually not present conducting instrumentalists; choral conductors often don’t use batons, seemingly to prioritize the nuance of the hands at the expense of visibility and the “resolution” of beat that the pointed tip of a baton can provide. Compound that with the fact that Maura is often cueing singers she can’t see, behind her head (in the balcony, or flanking the sides of the sanctuary), and you can get an idea of the immensity of the achievement.
In speaking with the singers after the performance, I found that this group put together the nearly-70 minute work in just four rehearsals. This is about as tight as a non-static choral group of this size could possibly be, performing a work of this size and complexity. Maura’s work with the singers is monumental, and readers should look forward to when this group will perform this work next.
Maura Tuffy and Kiyono McDaniel met last year while working together for the Los Angeles Children’s Chorus. With Maura’s affinity for choral conducting, and Kiyono’s ambition for arts development, they have combined their skills to make this performance possible. From fundraising and marketing, to recruiting and rehearsing, Maura and Kiyono have self produced this performance to highlight the beauty that is Path of Miracles.
7:30pm. Friday May 26, 2023
A Sitar concerto, a premiere by Marc Lowenstein, and a surprisingly enjoyable early work by Bizet packs Royce Hall
The Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra performed a program featuring a sitar concerto by Ravi Shankar (performed by Anoushka Shankar), a new Sound Investment commission from composer Marc Lowenstein, and a (seemingly) old staple from Georges Bizet.
Marc Lowenstein and I have interacted quite a few times – informally as ships in the night in the hallways at CalArts, where Marc is officially on faculty in the Experimental Pop department – then formally, with Marc as music director/conductor in The Industry’s Sweet Land. I was told of his talent as a tenor; composer Juan Pablo Contreras, who I knew through singing in the same tenor sections at USC, hearing of my admittance into CalArts’ MFA program, immediately told me to study voice with Marc, who had apparently had a “former life” as an operatic tenor with more than 25 roles under his belt. I’ve graded his students’ theory exams, with a joke-per-sentence rate so dense it was dizzying; the extra credit question had something to do with wallabies.
And yet, through all this, I had never heard any of his own music; he was so involved in employing his talents to help sharpen the aural skills of CalArtians and direct operas with The Industry, that I had somehow missed yet another hat on his rack. On your Facebook profile, you only really have enough space to put a short description or role at the institution for which you work. Marc’s Facebook profile says “Shortstop/Second Base at CalArts.”
“HaZ’màn HaZèh הזמן הזה” begins with the sound of a singing bowl and a bed of plucked strings underneath an oboe melody. The music is immediately dynamic; searing string lines give way to an explosive, thick bed of low frequency activity. In an introductory video posted online, Marc describes the piece as mystical, fusing samba, Buddhist mysticism, Jewish klezmer and Balkan music, the last two of which becomes most obvious as a squealing clarinet dances atop an insistent groove in 7. A cello solo, shimmering trills in piano, and finally the piece ends in a devastatingly simple two note refrain, sung out over a lush string chorale, unchanging from its identity despite the twisting harmony around it. The vocalist is hidden, singing from within the ensemble rather than as a soloist.
The work is enigmatic, a view into the influences and interests of an even more enigmatic musician; the cacophony of musics somehow blending together could have only come from someone as varied as Marc Lowenstein. The work deserves repeat listenings and I look forward to the life the piece will have beyond this concert; I can’t help but feel that Marc’s piece was buried in the curation of this concert; ‘Shankar plays Shankar,” makes it clear what the intended draw is, but Marc deserves equal billing.
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I get the feeling that people attended this concert for one of two reasons, and the Bizet wasn’t necessarily one of them. Certainly, it’s not quite the draw that a new work or a sitar concerto is for most people, and yet, though this work isn’t necessarily in the focus of this publication, I would be remiss to neglect mentioning how much I enjoyed listening to Bizet’s Symphony no. 1 in C.
The comparisons to Beethoven are easy to make – the piece was written in the span of about a month, shortly after Bizet turned 17, in 1855. At the time, Bizet was studying with Charles Gounod at the Paris Conservatoire, whose first two symphonies bear well-documented influences from Beethoven. Beethoven had already died by 1827, which would have granted ample time for his legacy to proliferate amongst his students and followers throughout Western Europe. Many of the early Romantic trademarks of Beethoven are there; a tendency to separate the strings from the winds and brass, assigning melodic or accompaniment roles to each half of the orchestra and only occasionally blending the two. The piece, a student work, was suppressed by Bizet to the point that he had never heard it performed in his lifetime; it is now one of his most frequently performed pieces, with some of its solos used as orchestral excerpts.
Music Director Jaime Martín conducts with an infectious, joyful exuberance. He invigorates, and when he’s not needed, he invites, then steps out. The connection between Martín and the orchestra is evident; cues are often given with the slightest opening of his fingers, a gesture that is perhaps an inch wide, yet marvelously clear in its intent. It’s not realistic to say this with any certainty, but his music-making hints at a warm demeanor, devoid of much ego.
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A platform, draped with a thick red and black rug, was brought forward and placed in the concerto soloist’s position. A sitar was placed on top, prompting many excited families to walk up to the Royce Hall stage; doubtless many young beaming faces with Maestra Shankar’s sitar were posted online and sent to family that night.
Ravi Shankar’s work is most well known to the world outside of the Indian subcontinent through his collaboration with George Harrison of the Beatles, and is credited with introducing much of the western world to North Indian classical (Hindustani) music. Part of his work in bringing his music to the West also involved writing three concerti for Sitar and orchestra, the third of which was performed tonight.
The trademarks of a North Indian classical recital were immediately recognizable; not only in the solo instrument and the scales (ragas), transcribed and rebuilt for the orchestral instruments, but also in the structure of the composition. The first movement began with a short virtuosic phrase, completed by an ending cadence, played three times and timed precisely to line up with the beginning, beat 1, of the next section. If you’re familiar with this musical tradition, then those descriptions should be familiar; this was likely a mukhra (a short, one cycle composition often at the beginning of a solo recital) marked at the end with a characteristic tihai (a “cadential” figure marked by its [usually] verbatim repetition, three times, which [usually] precisely hits sam, or beat 1 of the next rhythmic cycle). Then came what I would label a peshkar section (a type of theme-and-variation composition which has a kind of lilt, differentiating it from the similar qaida), then, after some developmental material, closed with a chakradar – a longer composition which is characterized by repeating the entire thing three times, not just the tihai.
In a work that bridges two musical traditions together, attention must be paid to how the two musics are blended, and especially in how these ideas are to be communicated. How much can we expect a patron of western orchestral concerts in London or Los Angeles to know of the Hindustani classical tradition? How much should a LACO string player know of the tintaal theka, a 16 beat rhythmic cycle which makes up at least half of their 3rd movement?
A well crafted piece and performer can communicate these ideas to an audience despite the differences in their assumed knowledge. A great one does so while entertaining its listeners. Shankar and Shankar, on Sunday night, wowed, by finding the aspects of a music that is common to both, if not all musical traditions. A solo is a solo in any language. Virtuosic fireworks communicate through all practices, and the collective musical output of LACO and Anoushka Shankar wowed, not in spite of, but thanks to the nexus of two musics coming together.
‘Shankar plays Shankar’
LACO’s 2022/23 season concludes with a celebration of global and local traditions! GRAMMY-nominated sitar virtuoso Anoushka Shankar performs her father Ravi Shankar’s Third Sitar Concerto. The concert also features a world premiere by LA-based composer Marc Lowenstein, the final Sound Investment premiere of the season, and a brief excursion to France with Bizet’s Symphony No. 1 in C major.
7:00pm. Sunday May 21, 2023
Shaker Loops and Pergolesi make for an interesting yet arresting combination, especially when sung by mold-breaking talent Samuel Mariño.
Camerata Pacifica wrapped up their 2023 season on May 16th, 2023 with a wonderful concert featuring the music of Adams, Bach and Pergolesi. The concert opened with John Adams’ Shaker Loops; I first heard Shaker Loops during the first year of my undergraduate studies and fell in love with it instantly. My career as a musician began as a percussionist, and Shaker Loops was my introduction to string ensemble music outside of a string quartet, and I hadn’t had the chance to hear it live until now. The septet of three violins, viola, two celli and double bass creates an enormous sound that is rhythmically driving from beginning to end. Immediately the technical and musical abilities of each performer were on display as they played sixteenth notes in rhythmic unison, edging ever so slightly towards a sound that could unravel at any moment – but never does. A gradual system brings us into the slower middle movements which display a beautiful array of harmonics; the faster notes return and we arrive at the final sections of the piece, once again revealing the impressive speed of the ensemble in its entirety. It was an incredible way to open a concert and while it is both the newest and the longest piece on the program it certainly succeeded in setting the stage of what was to come next.
The next two pieces, Cantata, “non sa che sia Dolores” by Johann Sebastian Bach and “Salve Regina in C Minor” by Giovanni Pergolesi used a larger ensemble of twelve musicians. I was eagerly awaiting the conductor’s entrance but was pleasantly surprised when it became clear the ensemble would perform without a conductor. The orchestra’s ability to communicate and listen freely without a conductor was clear right away. There was the sense that an overall stronger cohesion of time and interpretation was present because they didn’t have to use a conductor. Normally, a conductor is used to help guide the orchestra through their own interpretation but when a large ensemble doesn’t have a conductor they need to use their ears and communicate to one another. I believe this results in a more fluid and group oriented interpretation that rises above any individual. This group collective consciousness was on full display with these musicians.
Lastly, I would be remiss not to mention the extremely captivating performance of the soloist Samuel Mariño. Samuel commanded the audience’s respect and admiration the moment he walked on stage dressed in red pants and fingerless gloves with silver painted nails; the audience was both curious and immediately drawn in. As soon as the male soprano sang his first note, the audience was on the edge of their seats. Mariño had the audience screaming and standing by the end of the performance for an encore – a request he granted, with “Quella fiamma, che il petto m’accende” from Handel’s opera Arminio. The Handel allowed Mariño an extended cadenza in which he showed not only his impressive vocal range, speed, and projection, but also his ability to entertain; he had the audience laughing along when he wiped the sweat from his brow to prepare himself for an incredibly high note out of nowhere. He had them gasping in shock when he mimicked an oboe line (from oboist Nicholas Daniel) that was dauntingly fast and high for an oboe, let alone a vocalist. Samuel is certainly a figure in modern music to keep an eye on. This concert was part of his first tour in the United States and you will certainly want to keep note of his next appearance.
‘Camerata Pacifica’ at The Huntington
Camerata Pacific closes their ’22-’23 season with a performance of John Adams’ Shaker Loops , J.S. Bach’s Non sa che sia dolore, BWV 209 and Giovanni Battista Pergolesi’s Salve Regina in C Minor, with soprano soloist Samuel Mariño.
7:30pm. Tuesday May 16, 2023