beyondwords Archive Fulcrum Point 10.26.10

Bold, brassy, and suave, something alchemical emerged Wednesday night as Fulcrum Point opened it's season at the Harris. Dubbed "Motown Metal", the concert turned the Harris into one big blast furnace, turning disparate pieces of metal into some sort of high-grade steel.

The concert began with Michael Daugherty's Motown Metal--the title track. Yesterday, in my preview, I called Daugherty a "gimmicky" composer. This piece reminded me: he's also "kitschy". Every one of his pieces that I know has a program that is based on something distinctly American: Superman, Elvis, the auto industry. Based on the title and program notes, I expected some tone painting, making reference to "muscle cars" and "assembly lines". These only came through vaguely. Instead of representing tons of Detroit steel, it had about all the weight of a Smart Car--a sort of fanfare for car-loving Americans. Lots of craft, little inspiration: he must have many commissions. (3.9 / 10) [I could tell that the skill of the ensemble, brass under the direction of Stephen Burns, greatly exceeded what the piece required: it was like watching Mario Andretti drive a Chevy Nova.]

Next was a piece by Bang on a Can composer David Lang: the anvil chorus. Lang wanted to go back to the early days of percussion, when it was just repeated banging, like on metal to make stuff. Showing his minimalist roots, Lang's piece is based on shifting numerical patterns, related more by multiplication than addition. For a brief moment in the middle, it gets pretty cool; the opening patterns return triumphantly and are supported by a quirky, almost toe-tappable beat. And then it goes back to just being abstract patterns--albeit interestingly polyrhythmic. (4.5 / 10) Another solid gold performance: Jeff Handley (dressing the part in blacksmith's apron) and Tina Laughlin made it look easy [though I don't think the audience needed an explanation why Handley was in costume].

Finally in the 3rd piece, the fulcrum, things got revved up. Stephen Burns, Fulcrum Point's Artistic Director, played, Metallics, a solo trumpet piece with electronics by Yan Maresz. While many piece with electronics will either play a pre-recorded track or use computer-based effects, this piece seemed to do both. The logistics, though still somewhat of a mystery, were flawlessly executed by composer and performer alike; the quality of the sound coming through the speakers seemed higher definition than many similar pieces and were both ear-catching and intriguing. The spatialized reverberations and other assorted manipulations bounced around the room as Burns pulled out various mutes and extended techniques, becoming a medium through which the music flowed rather than just a performer. I would gladly see this piece again. [And you have the chance to at Fulcrum Point's next concert in early November.] (7.2 / 10)

Then, a quintet of the Fulcrum brass hammered out Stefan Freund's Metal. The three movement work was on the verge of momentum failure during the first movement, on the verge of film score in the second, and tried too hard in the third. In the first, I had the sneaking suspicion that he composed it on the computer with Finale or Sibelius; much of the rhythmic drive was completely dependent on one person playing at exactly the right time and at the right volume. The Fulcrum Pointers seemed as polished as ever, and yet the momentum of the music kept fizzling out. The second movement was like from a funeral scene in the Middle Ages but with wrong notes thrown in so you know it's contemporary. Just like Prokofiev always said, if you find yourself writing music that is too earnest and pretty, just smudge some of the notes around so people know you're being ironic. Overall, a pretty good piece for a doctoral candidate. (4.9 / 10)

To close, Chicago got to hear yet another piece by Mark Anthony Turnage: Out of Black Dust. Similar to how he Beyoncé, Turnage takes inspiration from a Classic Led Zeppelin tune and uses it for much of the melodic content. But it's always a little off or in parallel seconds--gotta be ironic. It's high energy and loud--not a terrible way to finish. And at least, afterwards, no one will ever say "More cowbell". [8 of them playing in unison is the best compositional idea evar.]

(5.6 / 10)

Once again, the success of Fulcrum Point's programming is in the metallurgy more than in individual pieces. Whereas many Chicago area new music groups focus on a style, location, or composer, FP's program slices the new music pie in a different direction. Again I noticed that the crowd is not your typical new music crowd, only recognizing 3 familiar faces: Stacy Garrop, George Flynn, and Janice Misurell-Mitchell--all Chicago-based composers. The audience seems to be attracted by the welding of music to extramusical references to mainstream culture.

Come for the intersection of culture, stay for the beer. To celebrate the Motor City, the reception included Stroh's, which I had never actually had [though my parents' friends were down with it]. I almost didn't indulge but figured it was the perfect opportunity to try it. Not terrible, but I think I'll stick to PBR just for its cachet.

beyondwords Archive Voxare 10.25.10

Sometimes, when a concert has but 20 people, I feel disappointed by the turnout. Last night, at High Concept Laboratories, with the same number of people, it felt intimate--like I was invited to a house concert in an abandoned industrial space.

The event was the Voxare String Quartet providing accompaniment to Dziga Vertov's 1929 classic silent film, Man with a Movie Camera.

And they're doing the event again tonight in case you missed the invite: Highly Recommended.

[Never mind the fact that I left feeling slightly nauseated.* That's part of the experience!]

The music was selected by Voxare from Russian/Soviet composers of the 20th century, a responsibility they did not take lightly, resulting in a stunning symbiosis of sound and image. And the execution was just as good: the quartet played with one voice, showcasing effortless technique and fevered intensity. I would be excited to see them without the pretense of a film.

If you're interested in going, visit High Concept Laboratories and RSVP to: info AT highconceptlaboratories DOT com. The show starts at 7 and is $10 suggestive donation.

The music had an interesting effect on my perception of the film; the muted aggression of Shostakovich, the wrong-note neo-classicism of Prokofiev, the expressionless ostinatos of Stravinsky, and the surreal futurism of Mosolov gave the image a certain gravitas that cemented the preconceived notions we may have of the Soviet Union. It's one interpretation, just like the Cinematic Orchestra had a vastly different one.

* - About partway through the film, I did start to feel some sort of "Blair Witch Effect". I had read that the fast cuts and sheer amount of edits (~18,000) was overwhelming for audiences of the time but figured my modern eyes could handle it. Alas, I don't watch T.V. like I used to--but when I do, it's often South Park. Apparently, I can handle it for 22 minutes but not 80. The slight nausea had a sort of "Clockwork Orange Effect" and made the day in Soviet life seem horribly oppressive.

beyondwords Archive dal niente 10.13.10

dal niente is back in town and better than ever. The ensemble was invited to Darmstadt this summer where they won the Stipiendienpreise, which roughly translates to "most badass ensemble prize".

Wednesday night, they were at the Mayne Stage, giving me my second opportunity to scope out the venue in as many weeks. I approve. Having seen post-Classical experimental Art Music in bars before, I knew it could fail. I was skeptical Wednesday when I didn't see a massive amount of microphones to combat the sound-dampening fixtures. But there was no need; the sound throughout the evening was ample, not D.O.A.--a neutral space with little added resonance or reverb.

The evening was broken up into two sets, the first skewing more American, the second more Euro. Musically, the ensemble was fantastic in every piece, though the expressive quality was often hampered by the head-down effort at precision. [Not that most of the pieces required much expression.]

The standout loser of the evening was Nico Muhly (MYU-lee), whose piece How About Now was rescued from the trash bin of history and given a second chance. Muhly wrote the piece in 2006, when he was a fresh 25 years old; he may be a boy wonder now, but this piece sounded young, like he had just discovered Steve Reich, like he had sketched out a couple Reich-esque ideas, ate them for lunch, and then threw them up on the page. The ideas weren't terrible, but the whole was flimsy. His work often verges on falling apart, but this one never got put together. It alluded that it had somewhere to go but then never fulfilled its promise; its fits and starts made it both too unpredictable and predictable at the same time. No one should ever program this. Ever. [...but I'm sure if we heard him talk about it, we'd find him charming and endearing and therefore über-talented.]

It's easier to harshly criticize than to mete out praise--especially when tired. Muhly's piece was the only one that made me angry; now that I've gotten that out of the way, I can be more delicate. It helps to have slept a couple nights.

The stand-out winner from the evening was Shanna Gutierrez in her performance of Michel van der Aa's Rekindle (apparently not a reference to the Amazon product). The piece was above average (7.0 / 10), with interesting sound design, sophisticated integration of live flute with prerecorded track, and a good sense of motion and flow. And, while I generally am not impressed by show pieces, this piece had a virtuosic component (that never overtook the focus), which Gutierrez served up with grace and intensity. The piece was successful for long stretches, inducing a mesmerization only periodically interrupted. At the end, Gutierrez gave a smile and a little laugh, as if she felt both triumphant and relieved--an apt mixture of feelings.

[Interesting aside: Ms. Gutierrez first "met" Mr. van der Aa through Twitter, through which she both learned about the world première of Rekindle and inquired about performing the US première. Technology rocks.]

Nearly a week after the concert, I have some lasting impressions about the other pieces:At 2.5 hours (including intermission), the concert was just a bit much. Listening to new music (anything unfamiliar) taxes mental muscles like speaking in a foreign language. After 5 difficult and thorny pieces on the first half, the singular beer I had at intermission, and a long day, I was sapped for the second half. In hindsight, a lot of the pieces sort of run together.
That being said, here are some further recollections.Set 1:

The Cheung, Brown, and Balter pieces all fit well together, the van der Aa being the exception that proves the rule, and the Muhly being somewhat out of left field.

• Centripedalocity by Anthony Cheung

Once, in grad school, I titled an orchestra piece "Pyroxialisticalityness". Cheung's title strikes me as similarly ridiculous. And the music sounds how the title looks: filled to the brim, tamped down, and filled again--a sort of minimalist maximalism. I have had the scene from Amadeus in my mind with Cheung as the young Mozart and me as the doddering Emperor: "too many notes". Perhaps history will judge me like it did the Emperor and in 200 years, but perhaps the Emperor has no clothes. (4.6 / 10)

• Growth by Marcos Balter

If Cheung's piece was maximalist minimalism, then Balter's piece was maximalist minimalism: repetitive but not trance-inducing, a quizzical mix of movement and stasis. Like the title suggests, the piece proceeded logically and organically with well-timed interruptions--just like life should be. A good piece I wish I could remember more: (7.2 / 10)

• Uneasy by Eliza Brown

Ms. Brown is a doctoral candidate at Northwestern, and, though her music exhibits a high degree of polish and craft, it uses a rather generic academic language that makes it difficult to distinguish from the other pieces. Most memorably, the piece explored the very high and low registers of the ensemble, resulting a unique and beautiful sonority. (4.2 / 10)

Set 2:

The second half was a slow blur of scrapes, grunts, and squeaks, wonderfully organized and orchestrated. Along with the halftime Half Acre, it induced a sort of meditative daze, an subtle reverie of abstraction.

There's another dal niente concert next week. Stay tuned for details.

[addendum: How many of these composers are/were affiliated with Northwestern? Yet again, I joined all the wrong secret societies...]

beyondwords Archive Macbeth at Lyric 10.6.10

Lyric's production of Verdi's Macbeth was not a total tragedy, managing to combine a tragic plot, rousing choruses, and circus aerials into a production worthy of half the audience standingly ovating.

For me, the performance induced cognitive dissonance. Verdi's opera, like Shakespeare's play, takes place in Scotland, though you wouldn't know it by the music, the language, the costumes, or the set. The only things Scottish were Macbeth's Braveheart locks, the hand-forearm shake, and the Macallan 12 I had at intermission. You know what they say about all things not Scottish.

In fact, nothing seemed to go together. The sets and the costumes seemed to be borrowed from a troupe of androids from the future trying to imagine medieval Scotland. Though Verdi broke ground by writing an opera that wasn't a love story, he neglected to change the music; Lady Macbeth's Act I aria about conjuring the demons of hell shouldn't sound like she's falling in love.

Singers:

Thomas Hampson (Macbeth) had a voice to suit the part: strong yet vulnerable, attractive yet not all that pretty. Nadja Michael (Lady Macbeth) drove her husband to kill and nearly did the same to me. Her first act arias proved her ability to sing "like a banshee" while slinking around and writhing like

Gozer, the destructor. She's one you either love or hate, and for me, unfortunately, I loathed having her on stage, flaunting her hot bod and wailing hysterically. [For her curtain call, nearly half the audience stood.] Perhaps it was just a matter of proximity: my seat was relatively close to the stage, whereas Ms. Michael was playing--not just to the back of the room--but to somewhere downstate. All that being said, her Act IV aria was bone-chillingly haunting; I finally felt sympathetic to her character, whom I had been killing off in my head since the beginning.

The supporting cast nearly eclipsed the leads. Stefan Kocán (Banquo) played one of the few likable characters, singing with a sound like a rich string bass. Leonardo Capalbo (Macduff) had a more traditional Italian tenor sound, like butter dripping off a hot biscuit.

The chorus and orchestra never cease to amaze me and were in their usual top form; Renato Palumbo coaxed out a very sensitive, lyrical overture from the pit and, conversely, rhythmic precision from the singers.

From the Galley

Macbeth dates from Verdi's "galley years", in which he toiled endlessly only to produce a few operas the public still hears. We here in Chicago were blessed last year with Ernani--and I do mean "blessed" (in the way a religious couple describes an unplanned pregnancy); this year, we get Macbeth, which reminded me of my vow to avoid the first half of Verdi's output. [I was much happier with Macbeth than Ernani but have labored enough in Verdi's galley.]

And, for the first time, I feel like the Lyric production misinterprets the score. While Shakespeare's work is dark and heavy, Verdi's is surprisingly light--inappropriately so, but so it is. There were moments in the libretto and the music that deserved more comedy but were played dramatically serious on stage, resulting in too many mixed messages with nothing to say.