Christian Wolff: For Ruth Crawford

This 1994 release on the Swiss label HatHut presents four works from 1968 to 1993 by the composer whose work was large built, as stated in the liners by Art Lange, on the fact that his "particular interest was in creating circumstances in which the performers would need to react spontaneously—with either precise details or those chosen from variable possibilities—to events occurring within unpredictable conditions." 

This could mean notation that had different forms or the use of graphs, images or spoken instructions "to create such indeterminate conditions of musical activity."  That word in the quote evokes the landmark 1959 John Cage/David Tudor recording, Indeterminacy and Cagean principles relating to chance operations and the choice made available to the performers.  

For Brown, however, it got to the point where his 1968 work, "Edges" was developed for "any number of players, any number of instruments" and no instructions as to harmony, pitch, rhythm, tempo or time.  Rather, players were given 25 symbols, the words "singing" and "slow" and markings of "ff" and "ppp" along with the number "3" randomly placed on a black page.  So, the performers on piano, trombone and viola decided to have four separate types of movements in 20 minutes.  The effect, Lange writes, is that "the sounds are in a constant state of . . . becoming" and "completely dependent upon the commitment of the performers.

1970's "Snowdrop" was written for harpsichord and perhaps other instruments and with notes placed on staves without bars and indications space, with numbers, "between the phrased sequences," emphasizing the importance of space and silence.  The piano, violin and trombone are overdubbed and "they are free to distribute the material at their discretion.

The more recent pieces of "Ruth" (1991) and "Peggy" (1993) are for Ruth Crawford, stepmother of folk master Pete Seeger and an experimental composer who later worked on transcriptions of folk music with Seeger's father Charles, and her daughter Peggy, also a folk singer.  "Ruth" has standard notation, with opportunities for players on piano and trombone to work with microtones, timbre and other elements at their choosing.  Drumming on the piano and whistling are also included.  With "Peggy," overdubbed trombones also perform with mostly a notated score, with some melodic material taken from the namesake's pieces.

Interspersed in Lange's text are quotes from Wolff, such as "I'm trying to see how little I can indicate [to players] and yet come up with a piece that's clearly itself, one that still has a life of its own," or his idea that "we had to liberate ourselves from the direct and preemptory consequence of intention and effect," or "my music is often just material" but that a key to performance was "how the individuals relate to each other as they play."  Perhaps most important are the statements that "all music is propaganda music" and if "you still haven't the foggiest idea what my music sounds like; you have to hear it or play it to find out."  For this untutored listener, the main idea is to go where the performers take you and to enjoy the journey, not worrying about the map.

Luciano Berio: Orchestra Works

The music of Luciano Berio is a rollercoaster ride of tonal color, striking contrasts among instruments and exploration of the sound possibilities of solo performers, small groups and orchestras.  Berio was also interested in reprocessing his works in varied contexts, as is the case with the first two pieces of this remarkable recording, issued by the Col Legno label from Vienna.

A previous post here was on his astounding Sequenzas I-XIV, which dynamically expounded on solo instruments of various kinds and, here, Chemins I from 1965 and Chemins IIb from 1970 take those sequences for harp and viola and place them within an orchestral context.  The result is a depth and richness to the pieces, spectacular as they previously were in isolation, that reinvents the works in notable ways, especially as the playing of these typically "softer" instruments interacts with the range of those around them.

The expansive Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra, the juxtaposition of the keyboards and their relation to each other and the orchestral instruments.  Berio once wrote that the traditional concerto was passé when he wrote this work in 1972 and 1973 because he felt that the relations between the orchestra and soloists were totally changed from the days of Baroque, Classical and Romantic composition.  He noted that this piece was one in which "the soloist develops mobile, diversified, and very unstable relationships between themselves and with the soloists of the orchestra, creating chamber ensembles."  While there are major contrasts in these interactions, which is exciting, if also disconcerting, the composer continued that "behind all these differences lies a unifying harmonic process," with the keyboards beginning alone "almost like a map consulted before starting a journey."

The final piece, Formazioni, is from the middle 1980s and the title is crystal clear, as Berio experimented with orchestral formations in arranging instrumental clusters and exploring, as one analysis stated, "relationships within the traditional families of instruments and the roles they are given to play," so that these are "defined and allotted in a new manner."  The unfamiliar and unexpected become an exercise in resolution, for the performers and for the listener, and, as an amateur, this blogger can only really go on the feelings generated and they are of intrigue and the position of being unsettled, but ultimately invigorating, especially as Berio mines both space, the quietude of some passages and then jarring densities and great intensity.

These feelings are represented in the notes by Ferdinand Schmatz, an Austrian experimental poet and essayist, who seems to write in a free associative prose poetry for these first three pieces and a more structured and far more concise way with the last.  Impressionistic throughout, Schmatz asks questions as well as offers his reactions.  It is interesting to read notes that don't inform but share reactions and this listener could certainly relate to much of it.

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.

Christian Wolff: Pianist: Pieces

Christian Wolff, who is still among us as he approaches his 87th birthday, has survived all of his compatriots in the so-called New York School of experimental composers centered around John Cage and his theories and approaches to sound and including Morton Feldman, Earle Brown and David Tudor.  The exploration of the possibilities of expression of sound through prepared instrumentation, the use of indeterminacy and chance operations (using, for example, the I Ching to determine what to play next), and other aspects, can be understandably off-putting, though, with an open mind and ears, the ride can be quite intriguing and fascinating.

An example is the three-disc set issued by the Belgian label Sub Rosa called Pianist: Pieces and which provides the dramatic contrast between Wolff's early work during the 1950s heyday of the New York School and a slew of pieces issued between 2000 and 2010 after he retired from teaching from Dartmouth.  Perfomer Philip Thomas provided very useful and interesting notes, observing, for example, that Cage felt that Wolff was the most musical of the group and Thomas outlines how the experimentation and pedigree of musicality through Ives, Webern, Bach, Schumann, Hayden and others can be discerned in the music.

Most helpful is Thomas' evocation of how Wolff utilized discontinuity, silences, isolated and fragmented sounds and indeterminacy of notation. This latter involves indications of which fingers to use, but not which notes; unspecified duration of notes; playing notes in any octave or clef; leaving out instructions for tempo, articulation and dynamics and the "wedge," or a pause or breath of any length.  This allows tremendous freedom, along with significant challenges for the player in working towards a "meeting point" with the composer.  Thomas stated that the experiences of working with Wolff's work "provoke me to play in ways I would not ordinarily consider."

For the listener, at least this one, this also is the case, in that listening to experimentalists like Wolff leads to new ways of hearing music, though none of this is anywhere nearly as shocking and unnerving as it was to those confronting such approaches to sound back in the Fifties.  It is also apt that, when the set was burned to my computer, the pieces were not arranged in the order by disc, but, rather so that the three track 1s are followed by the three track 2s and so on.  This discontinuity and a sort of indeterminacy seems more than fitting and does not, in the least, affect the enjoyment of hearing Wolff's particularized approaches to composing for the piano.

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.