Harry Partch: The Wayward

In many years of listening to the wild, wonderful and highly idiosyncratic and innovative music of Harry Partch, it was long hoped to see a performance of his work using the adapted and custom built instruments, which are fantastic to see as well as to hear, and that opportunity finally came a few weeks ago at the REDCAT and Roy and Edna Disney CalArts Theatre in Los Angeles.  

The Partch Ensemble presented the program "Bewitching Petals," which combines the names of two of the composer's notable works, The Bewitched, of which some excerpts were presented of the 1956 piece, and And on the Seventh Day Petals Fell in Petaluma, from a decade later also comprising portions.  The other two works were "Listening to Lu-Tzu" by Ensemble leader John Schneider, using text from the great 8th -century Chinese poet, Li Po, some of whose verse was put to music by Partch in his early years of writing, this being the early 1930s, and "Parable of the Bitter," a brand-new piece by Daniel Corral, also an Ensemble member.

The concert was just outstanding with the phenomenal sounds of such instruments (Partch had two dozen of his invention) as the Chromolodeon, Cloud Chamber Bowl, Diamond Marimba, Drone Devil, Eroica, Gourd Tree, Spoils of War, Surrogate Kithara and the Zymo-Xyl, tuned to the 43 microtones to the octave that marked Partch's monophonic system.  Because he eschewed Bach's equal temperament, the notes sound out of tune to someone not familiar with Partch's method, but attuning the listening as well as noting the frequent use of small groups, duets, trios and so on, as well as appreciating the heavily percussive nature of the music helps to better understand what was behind the thinking of this unique composer.  A healthy sense of humor helps, too.

The eleven members of the Ensemble also frequently switched instruments, another unusual element of the concert and there were nine guests, some playing more traditional instruments like the bass clarinet, clarinet and piccolo, while there was a soprano voice, as well.  The interplay, often very complex and compelling, drew this listener back and forth, up and down across the stage in a way not experienced with traditional concerts.  Schneider's solo rendering of the Li Po piece was deeply immersive and powerful with his stentorian voice and the Adapted Guitar II sounding like a Chinese ch'in.  In all, it was a truly memorable and unique concertgoing experience and a plan to perform all of The Bewitched next year is eagerly anticipated.

Of three discs by the Ensemble purchased at intermission, the one featured here is The Wayward, the fourth and latest of a series by the group on the small, but important, label, Bridge.  Given Partch's years traveling the country, riding the rails as a hobo, and experiencing first-hand a subculture of Depression-era America that reminds this blogger of the homelessness crisis of our time, it is particularly striking to hear the music and the lyrics to such pieces as "Barstow," "The Letter," and, especially, the amazing "U.S. Highball," all composed between 1940 and 1955, with the former amended in 1968.

Also very impressive is "Ulysses at the Edge," dubbed "A Minor Adventure in Rhythm," and with a bonus impro version of the 1955-1962 work, to boot.  There are various recordings of the pieces on the recording, but it is always interesting to hear those rearranged in various sequences, as well as the quality based on the recording environment, mastering, and other aspects, not to mention the technology of a given time.  This album, like the others acquired, is beautifully played and recorded and the Ensemble and Bridge deserve every kudo for their impressive efforts.

One last word about the show that made it even more memorable.  At the end, the audience was encouraged to go to the stage for the "petting zoo," seeing and touching/playing the instruments, with Ensemble members to answer questions.  A friend that we sat with, Robert Portillo, works on some of these instruments and remarked that he'd never seen such engagement before at these "petting zoos."  The 15-minute opportunity was a great way to end a stunning evening, with the memory enlivened by this and the other discs brought back from the performance.

Iannis Xenakis: Chamber Music, 1955-1990

Of Greek ancestry, born in Romania, a resistance fighter in Greece who suffered a terrible injury to his face including the loss of an eye and an exile in France for over a half-century from the late 1940s until his death in 2001, Iannis Xenakis first became an architect working under the renowned Le Corbusier.  It was not until he was in his Thirties that Xenakis became a composer and, when he did, he shook the so-called classical (serious) music world with his emphasis on mathematical modeling (not unlike Harry Partch and his monophony, Xenakis hearkened back to ancient Greek mathematical musical concepts from the likes of Pythagoras) and computer programming to create some of the most challenging and startling pieces one will ever hear.  His "stochastic" approach involves, perhaps not unlike John Cage's use of the I-Ching, choosing notes randomly through the programming by computer.

For a listener, that challenge includes letting go of the idea that melody is essential to hearing music and for this untutored fan, the key is to take the advice of jazz saxophonist Albert Ayler and his trumpeter brother Donald and try to follow the sound not the notes, while also observing the absolute foundation of music conveyed by Edgard Varése, who suggested that it is simply "organized sound."

This double-disc set issued in 1991 by the German public broadcasting entity, WDR, provides almost all of the composer's smaller ensemble work, and it is beautifully played by the Arditti String Quartet, formed by violinist Irvine Arditti and devoted to modern music as it approaches its 50th anniversary next year, and the late pianist Claude Helffer, also a resistance fighter in his native France during the war.  Notes by Harry Halbreich explain Xenakis' approaches to music and math, the stochastic method of composition and explanations of the fifteen pieces.

Intense and complex as Xenakis' music can be, one of the great virtues of this set is that it provides a good deal of variety as there are the string quartet, including with piano, and string trio pieces, but also solo works for piano, violoncello, viola, and violin.  Even if there are complicated processes like "arborescenses," dealing with melody in a new way; the "sieve," or a mathematical way to select notes from a random selection through computer programming; as well as using "non-octave scales," where scales repeat beyond an octave, letting the sound take you into a world of incredible dynamic range and deep exploration of pitch can be very rewarding and a true ear-opening experience.

Iannis Xenakis: Persepolis + Remixes Edition 1

The context for Persepolis is, by any standard, strange, but fascinating.  The Shah of Iran, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, decided, in 1971, to celebrate the 2,500th anniversary of the founding of Persia by Cyrus the Great by holding an event that also was intended to justify the Shah's place in Persian history, though eight years later he was deposed by a conservative religious revolution.

As part of the festivities, the Shah commissioned composer Iannis Xenakis to create a piece of music and the result is the astounding Persepolis, named for the city built by Cyrus and the ruins of which are in the deserts of the south part of the country.  As a symbol of the ancient power and might of the Persian Empire, Persepolis became the basis for an extraordinary piece of music as extreme sound that seems totally alien to that society and for that matter most modern ears!

This listener finds the nearly hour-long work on eight-channel tape, with this 2002 version on Asphodel Records based on the original tapes with consultation of Xenakis, to be compelling as a gradual build-up of sound that may not conjure up anything specific about ancient Persia or Persepolis.  There is a haunting and desolate feel that does not remotely sound celebratory.

Xenakis, however, latched on to a crucial concept in Zoroastrianism, the religion of the ancient Persians, involving the binary conflict of darkness and light.  The piece, blared through nearly 60 loudspeakers, also emphasized light, through torches and bonfires (ancient light) and lasers and bright electrical light (modern forms).  It is hard to imagine that attendees were anything but stunned and confused by the spectacle.

The composer said that Persepolis was reflective of "history's noises" and the mechanical sounds, high-pitched percussion sounding like dragged objects, echoed hisses and howls seem to indicate a primeval passage through the turmoil of history.  It is disconcerting, but also hypnotic when concentrated attention is placed, especially in the last ten minutes, which is incredibly intense.

A second disc of remixes by electronic artists from Japan, Spain, Poland, Germany and the United States are varied and often bear little over resemblance to Xenakis' piece, but, as is often the case, take basic inspiration as a means to express general affinity and kinship about the nature of extreme sound.

To this listener, hearing Persepolis is somewhat akin to hearing Lou Reed's confounding, but remarkable, Metal Machine Music, including its stunning notated reproduction by Zeitkratzer.  What could seem like a joke or complete self-indulgence takes on an aura of inspired explorations of the outer limits of music, espcially considering the strange relationship of Xenakis, a modernist, avant- garde musical revolutionary and the autocratic Shah not long removed from an ignominious end.