Philip Glass: Koyaanisqatsi

Philip Glass is one of those "classical music" composers who defies easy categorization.  Though Julliard-trained and identified with the so-called "minimalist" school, Glass largely worked outside of conventional, even for modernists, formats and venues for the presentation of his work.  His work with the great sitar virtuoso Ravi Shankar while studying with Nadia Boulanger along with a desire to work with theater, opera, dance, pop, film and classical worlds reflect a truly admirable multi-disciplinarian approach that bridges normally segregated musical genres and has had a tremendous influence over the decades.  One of his best-known adventures tying sound to the visual image of film is the amazing Koyaanisqatsi, which first appeared as a soundtrack and then redone as a longer album.  It is also the first of five discs in the set Philip on Film, released by Nonesuch Records in 2001.

Released in 1982 and produced and directed by Godfrey Reggio, Koyaanisqatsi eschewed dialogue and traditional narrative, including aural, to present images and music that, as expressed on Glass' website, "is an apocalyptic vision of he collision of two different worlds—urban life and technology versus the environment."  Yet, it is added that the film "is not so much about something" as much as it is a provocation "to raise questions that only the audience can answer."  There is no assigned meaning, which would be propaganda, but an encouragement for the viewer to find a meaning that is "whatever you wish to make it."  The music, heard apart from the visuals of the film, is tightly constructed and played, and often stunningly beautiful, with brass punctuating the continuous flow and vocals accompanying the hypnotically repetitive rhythms, but there is a strong emotive element not often associated with the "minimalism."  On its own terms, the music here is remarkable, but the obvious next step for this listener is to actually watch the film.

Steve Reich: Music for 18 Musicians

This is generally considered a landmark "minimalist" recording and perhaps the most renowned of the works of Steve Reich.  The composer and colleagues first recorded the work for this release on ECM (notable as the label of jazz pianist Keith Jarrett among many others) in 1978 and there are detailed explanatory notes by Reich.

He stated in the notes that the earliest work on the piece took place in Spring 1974 and completion took place a little under two years later.  The organization of the instrumentation was new with a violin, a cello, two clarinets doubling the bass clarinet, four female singers, four pianos, three marimbas, two xylophones and a metallophone.

Notably, Reich observed that "there is more harmonic movement in the first 5 minuts of 'Music for 18 Musicians' than in any other complete work of mine to date," though he added that most of this consists of "a re-voicing, inversion or relative minor or major of a previous chord" within a narrowed key signature limit.  Certainly, anyone who has heard his "Early Music" recording (featured here previously) or other works prior to 1976 can identify with his statement on harmony.

Concerning rhythm, always a significant component of Reich's work, he pointed out that there were two simultaneous types in the piece, with the first being "a regular rhythmic pulse in the pianos and mallet instruments," while the other consists of "the rhythm of the human breath in the voices and wind instruments."  These pairings involve playing or singing notes "for as long as their breath will comfortably sustain them."  Reich's discovery that these dual rhythms are akin to "waves against the constant rhythm of the pianos and mallet instruments" and constitute a new sound source that he wished to develop in future work is something the listener can easily pick up on, even amateurs such as YHB.  Even though the strings don't "breathe," Reich wrote that the players can "follow the rise and fall of the breath by following the breath patterns of the bass clarinet.

There are also, he went on, a cycle of eleven chords played at the beginning and end of the nearly hour-long piece, that determine the structure, as "all the instruments and voices play or sing pulsing notes within each chord."  In addition, each "pulsing chord" is held for several minutes, during which a construction is added that changes the following chord and stretches them out.  Moreover, repeated elements will vary by harmony and instrumentation, so that a pulse played by the pianos and marimbas in one section will be followed by marimbas and xylophones in a following one.

Reich also employs interesting relationships between harmony and melody, pointing out that "a melodic pattern may be repeated over and over again, but by introducing a two or four chord cadence underneath it, first beginning on one beat of the pattern and then beginning on a different beat, a sense of changing accent in the melody will be heard."  Again, this is also very discernible and is one of several techniques that reveal how repetition can be given variety to develop a freshness that holds the listener's interest in a long, uninterrupted piece.

Finally, the composer explained that the use of the metallophone is as a cue to guide the musicians from one section to the following one "much as in a Balinese Gamelan a drummer will audibly call for changes of pattern, or as a master drummer will call for changes of pattern in West African music."  Because there isn't a conductor who isn't playing, Reich concluded by stating that "audible cues become part of the music and allow the musicians to keep listening."  This also seems to provide a state of constant interplay that aids in the sense that the music flows smoothly in an organic way, though obviously it is a structural facet of the piece.

It is worth pointing out that Reich's studies in drumming in Ghana in 1970 and then study with gamelan in 1973 and 1974 in Bali gave him the underpinning to introduce concepts of these musics in this composition.  Gamelan has influenced a number of composers, including Satie, Cage, Harrison, Bartok and others.

What stands out to this listener on "Music for 18 Musicians" is that there is obvious repetition and order, but the way that the sustained "pulsing chords" evolve harmonically in tune with melody and with varying combinations of instrumentation following from section to section provides a much-needed variation to keep the listener's attention in focus.  Moreover, there is a true warmth to the playing of these acoustic instruments within the evolving framework of the piece.  The result is a richness and beauty that makes for an important benchmark in the development of so-called "minimalism."  Repeated hearing of this fascinating work continues to yield a great deal of enjoyment and it is a testament to Reich's careful and thoughtful approach that this is the case.

Terry Riley: A Rainbow in Curved Air

Released in 1969, a few years after his famous (or infamous) In C was released as an early example of so-called minimalism in classical music, Terry Riley's A Rainbow in Curved Air found the composer using intricate overdubbing to layer keyboards and percussion in fascinating ways.

As expressed in the explanatory note on the back cover, "the spatially separated mirror images were adapted for studio recording by Glen Kolotkin and resemble the sound Terry gets in his all-night concerts."  These live performances were another way for Riley to create an experience that was far removed from the traditional concert hall (after all, it was the hippie era), but the fact that he had a growing interest in Indian classical music and in the improvisation found in it and in jazz is reflected in the wild and wonderful sounds on this amazing recording.

Riley performed on electric organ, electric harpsichord, or what he termed the "rocksichord," as well as the dumbec, or goblet drum (used heavily in music from the Middle East), and tambourine for percussion effects for the title track, which spanned about 18 and a half minutes, while for the comically titled "Poppy Nogood and the Phantom Band," he played the soprano saxophone and electric organ.  ON the 21 and a half minute masterpiece, Riley spins out fantastic runs on the soprano, supposedly inspired by the great John Coltrane, and the organ that reveal his masterly instrumental prowess.  With some studio trickery involving tape loops and a patch cord, Riley and the engineer were able to give the track another interesting dimension of sound

The "flower power era" vibe is further reinforced by the inclusion of an untitled poem by the composer included on the cover and which decries war, the killing of animals, urban malaise, and so forth.  To a more cynical era, the sentiments seem hopelessly naïve and idealistic, but, to this listener, it is part of the historical context of the time and the music doesn't seem to be that tied to period.

Notably, this album and its electric keyboard sounds had a major effect on Pete Townshend of The Who and the legendary song "Baba O'Riley," named for Indian guru Meher Baba and Riley features keyboard sounds derived from this album. 

In any case, the originality and freshness of Riley's 1960s work is epitomized by A Rainbow in Curved Air, as well as with In C.  His career went through many changes subsequently, including years of spiritual and musical study in India, and album with former Velvet Underground member John Cale, and some excellent works with The Kronos Quartet, whose David Harrington studied with the composer at Oakland's Mills College.  For those inclined to an interest in so-called "minimalism," this album is a true standout.

Terry Riley:  A Rainbow in Curved Air (CBS, 1969)

1.  A Rainbow in Curved Air  18:39
2.  Poppy Nogood and the Phantom Band  21:38

Terry Riley: In C

Terry Riley, born in 1935 in Colfax, in the northern portion of California's Gold Country between Sacramento and Reno, attended the University of California, Berkeley, where he earned a master's degree in composition.  Tellingly, he played ragtime piano at a San Francisco bar to earn money for college and then, after graduation, spent time in Europe, playing piano at a Paris nightclub and traveling through Scandanavia, where he played music and performed in street theater, among other endeavors.  In other words, he and other post-World War II composers were finding interesting paths to "classical" composition, using experiences with other forms of music (including indigenous musics of various parts of the world, jazz, blues and others) and types of entertainment to influence their work.

What became known, typically misleadingly, as "minimalism" has often been described as exemplified by works such as Riley's In C, which was composed in San Francisco in 1964 and is often celebrated as the first work of minimal composition.  The piece is partially operated by chance (an earlier post highlights John Cage and David Tudor's Indeterminacy, a work based on principles of chance occurrences relative to Cage's recitation of stories and anecdotes while Tudor employed electronics in a separate room out of earshot from his compatriot) in that there are 53 short figures covering from a half beat to 32 beats and moving between the notes of C, E, C again and then G.  While these are played in order, performers can vary where they establish their downbeat and how long and for what duration are their rests, so the element of improvisation is central to the performance of the work.  A key underpinning to In C is that there is an element not included in the score, which is a piano used to create a continuous pulse through the percussive playing of the top two Cs of the instrument on precise eighth notes, almost like a tamboura drone on Indian ragas.   Moreover, the size of the ensemble can vary, so that performances can run anywhgere from about forty-five minutes to an 1 1/2 hours.

This album, the first of this composition, was recorded in 1968 for Columbia Records with Riley on saxophone and joined by musicians from Buffalo's New Music Center (a.k.a., Center of the Creative and Performing Arts at the State University of New York at Buffalo), including a trumpet, flute, trombone, clarinet, viola, oboe, vibraphone, marimbaphone, bassoon and the piano.  Among the performers was trumpeter Jon Hassell, who met Riley in San Francisco and who has gone on to receive much praise for his body of work in modern music, and Hassell's then-wife, Margaret, now known as Katrina Krimsky, who played the pulse on piano and has had a long career as a pianist.

The 42-minute version is performed beautifully and was recorded in three segments.  The first included the eleven ensemble members playing around the pulse established by Margaret Hassell.  Two overdubs followed, one using ten musicians and the other seven.  This created an effect of hearing three each of the vibes, sax, trombone, viola, flute, bassoon, oboe and trumpet and two each of the marimba and clarinet.  Since this first recording, there have been many, ranging up to 76 minutes.  One live performance at the Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles featured 124 musicians, which must have been, given the noted acoustics in that venue, a powerful and hypnotic experience, which is true enough of this original 1968 recording.

Riley had a great influence on many composers of his time and subsequently, among these being Steve Reich, whose early work will be the focus of a soon-to-be-coming post.  His follow-up Columbia disc, A Rainbow in Curved Air, released in 1969, is another classic that will be discussed here at some point.  The composer soon after began intensive studies in Indian music, which has had a vey prominent influence in his later works. By the mid-1980s, however, his former student, David Harrington of the great Kronos Quartet, convinced him to compose works for the string quartet and a series of excellent collaborations, including the tremendous Cadenza on a Night Plain, resulted.  Anyone interested in modern "minimalist" "classical" music would be well advised to start with, or at least give an early listen, to In C, which stands as one of the great works of the genre.