Darmstadt Overview
Well, I’m back from the Summer Course in Darmstadt, Germany. An absolutely amazing experience, in the sense that I heard live performances of music that I would be highly unlikely to come across in the United States. To give you an idea of what a typical day was like over this two-week period:
1) Wake up, 8:00 AM
2) Proceed to ballroom at Maratim Konferenz-Hotel in Darmstadt to begin daily intake of pork products, nutella, and shitty coffee.
3) Catch the first tram that you can. It’s quite possible that the driver of the tram you’re sprinting for will pull away just as you reach the door. They just don’t give a shit.
4) If you’re in the interpretation class, you’ll either have a studio meeting, rehearsal, or lessons for the morning. Or maybe all of those three.
5) If you, by the grace of God, have the morning off, you could attend a lecture by Bryan Ferneyhough, Hans Thomalla, Chaya Czernowin, or whomever else happened to be speaking their minds that day.
6) Repeat 3, 4, 5 for most of the afternoon.
7) 16:30 (that’s 4:30 pm). Time for lunch! That funny sound that you were hearing for half of the afternoon wasn’t the contrabass practicing next door, it was your stomach.
17:00–at this point of the day, if you haven’t started already, it’s a good time to begin thinking about your first beer of the day. Turns out it goes amazingly well with all the pork you’ve been (and will be) ingesting.
9) 19:30. Typically, the first concert of the night would begin between 6 and 8 pm. Most concerts at Darmstadt last at least 2.5 hours, with the notable exception of the finale concert (more on this later). Somehow, you never felt like it was that long.
Some of the highlights from the evening concerts:
The opening night concert, featuring the entire “Les Espaces Acoustiques” cycle by Gerard Grisey. While this is certainly not my favorite spectral work ever, it’s a rare opportunity to hear the entire cycle performed live, and there are certain elements in the work that you just don’t get listening to a recording. It was damn hot in that place.
Two nights later, the first of TWO concerts by Arditti Quartet. I would say at least three quarters of the works performed were premieres, and some of the better pieces I heard were those by Hannes Kerschbaumer (corpo a corpo), and Luis Aguirre (Ochosi). Also the piece by Ferneyhough was very good, although not a premiere.
The next night, we were shepherded into a few buses where the driver “forgot” to turn on the air conditioning for about half of the trip to Stuttgart. However, we got to see only the second or third staging of Chaya Czernowin’s chamber opera Pnima. Fantastic music, and really great performances by the orchestra and singers–I use the term singers loosely, because there were no words in the work, only phenomes and vowels. However, most people agreed that the staging, while impressive at times, was a little heavy-handed and obvious.
The best concert of the Ferienkurse for me came on the 22nd of July. This concert was shared by Arditti and the JACK quartet from New York. I rode the tram with the cello player of JACK who was very friendly, and we spoke about some of their past and upcoming projects. Let me tell you, this is a group that you will want to catch up on and follow in the coming years. They have an incredible DVD out of the Xenakis string quartets, and I’ve heard great things about their performances of Helmut Lachenmann’s work as well. The best music of this particular evening, however, was performed by Arditti. It included an absolutely incredible new quartet by Italian composer Pierluigi Billone (check this man out!), another fantastic new quartet by Hans Thomalla (some of you may remember the trio I played in my chamber recital), and another good work by Bernhard Gander. @Ty Forquer: you’ll want to check out Billone’s work for spring drum. I am not really sure how to describe Billone’s music, but in terms of reinventing the idiomatic qualities of the instruments and ensembles he writes for, I can’t think of anyone since Lachenmann who has done more. It felt like the earth was moving in a very strange way during this piece. I can’t wait for it to be recorded.
Back to the schedule:
10) 20:45. It’s more than likely that you’re at halftime for the evenings first concert. You know what that means: temporary relief from the weather inside the concert hall, and beer #2 (or 5).
11) 21:45. Now you have an important decision to make. Do you go get some food and tame the beast that’s been complaining during the first evening concert? Never have I heard a louder chorus of stomach growling than when I was at these evening concerts. If you do decide to go sit down for some food, your night has begun and you’re done listening to music. Trust me, once that third round of pork and beer enters your skin, you’re not going to feel like getting up.
12) 22:00. In the event that you decided to grab a snack and forego actual dinner, it’s now it’s time for the second concert of the evening, typically of the Atelier Electronik series. These concerts all took place at a local club, 603qm, and featured electro-acoustic music. I had the opportunity to perform on the finale concert of this series, a work by Portuguese composer Joao Pais. One thing I have to say about the festival is that despite some complaints about things being disorganized, they have their shit together when it comes to all things electronic.
13) 24:00-5:00? Beer. And more beer.
14) Go back to #1.
Some other concert highlights:
Chicago’s own ensemble Dal Niente, which gave energetic and precise performances of works by Mark Andre and Hans Thomalla. The group won a stipend award to come back for the next festival, which is a huge deal. Congrats to them!
Fathom String Trio–I unfortunately missed their portion of this concert, which was both good and bad. Bad because I missed their fantastic playing (I heard them perform earlier in the week in a reading session of my friend Jesse Ronneau’s string trio, and then later in the finale concert), but good because then I heard the new-age crap of another group that will go unnamed, which was happily accompanied by ambient garbage truck.
The finale concert. This was the concert to end all concerts. Although I think we would all agree that we like our new music concerts to only last circa one hour, I have to say that most of the time, I didn’t mind the length of the concerts I heard. Most of the music was fairly interesting, although perhaps not always ground breaking. The finale concert, on the other hand, began at 6:15 pm and didn’t finish until after midnight. Granted, there was a malfunction on the one electro-acoustic piece performed, four intermissions which may have gone a little overboard, and the presentation of the Kranichsteiner prizes, but this concert took some serious dedication. Luckily, a lot of the best music came in the last quarter of the concert, featuring works by Enno Poppe, Georges Aperghis (perhaps the most performed composer of this conference), Ferneyhough–awesome performances of Funerailles I and II, plus Cassandra’s Dream Song in between, and other great works by Franz Martin Olbrisch, among others.
Once this concert was over, we went to 603qm for the finale party, where I drank wine out of a glass jar (thanks, Ammie!), more of my beloved Heffe, and I’m not sure what else. Then it was back to the hotel to pack and sleep as much as possible before shipping out the next morning.
I would write more, but finding all these links was tiring. I didn’t even mention the great saxophoning experience I had with Marcus Weiss, but suffice it to say that Marcus is an incredibly gifted and thoughtful musician–as much of a thinker as a performer. Darmstadt is more about the composers and the music, anyway. An inspiring and exhausting few weeks, to say the least…
lights…camera…hardware store…kinkos…extension cords…
Posted by Sam in Uncategorized on August 5th, 2010
The weekend of July 23rd, some friends and I took part in the Detroit 48 Hour Film Contest. The contest is an international event taking place during the summer in 90 cities. The rules are pretty basic. On Friday the 23rd, all teams met the contest organizers in Detroit were each randomly drew a genre (we got Sci-Fi) and were assigned a character (Jason or Janice Strawberry, a realtor), a prop (an award) and a line of dialogue (“Take your time.”) All these elements must be included in your 4 to 7 minute film. I was the director and a good friend and frequent creative collaborator David MacDonald served as the producer. I had never made a narrative film/video project; however, Dave and I had seen some samples from previous contest and were confident that we could create something that was at least worthy of entry to the contest. Luckily for Dave and me, we have a lot of creative and talented friends (check the credits out).
Entering a film contest may seem odd for a group that includes no film students, 3 graduate students in music composition and 2 newly minted doctors of music composition. No wait – what I meant to say was that it’s odd that people who have never studied music are always using their computer nowadays to make all kinds of crazy music…No wait – what I meant to say was that it’s odd how people who have never studied photography are always using digital cameras these days along with cheap and easy to understand software to make photo projects – NO WAIT!
But that’s just it. There’s no reason to wait at all anymore. No waiting for film to get processed so that you may critique the results and learn from them. SNAP – turn the camera around and see what you got – repeat 2600 times (no cost of processing). You’ve gained the experience and perspective that would have taken months (or years) and thousands of dollars to amass 10 years ago. Emiliano Sullivan-Figueroa and Matt Schoendorff created a fantastic original score for the film in a morning using a laptop. No need to wait for the orchestra so that you can be sure that doubling that cello line in the bassoons is the way to go. While editing footage in my office, I would step out to the living room and ask for the sound of a cell phone ringing (or whatever). Four minutes later, the file is loaded and in my resource panel. More composers should try their hand at making a film (and the music) rather than wishing that they could become a film composer.
AHHH – I think it would take a while for me to run out of things to say about this experience, so let me close with this. I’m proud of the film (mistakes and all) that we made. For a first effort, I think we made a very good showing. But it is the experience itself – being so deep into a project that everything else fades away and it’s just you and these other artists all working to make this thing come to life, that I cherish the most.
For your consideration – Download.
DOWNLOAD from sam merciers on Vimeo.
from sammerciers.com
Mark André
Posted by Geoffrey in Uncategorized on July 13th, 2010
Check out one of the composers who’s going to be at the Darmstadt Festival this month. Looking forward to hearing his music.Mark André \”…auf..\”
The demise of the humanities?
http://chronicle.com/article/Its-Time-to-Stop-Mourning-the/65700/
make – share – repeat
Contemporary scholarship in music composition has always born a close relationship to technology. From mechanical improvements in acoustic instruments, early developments in computer music at Bell Laboratories and the current glut of inexpensive “off the shelf” software and hardware solutions for non-linear audio editing and signal processing, composers such as Beethoven, Stockhausen and Radiohead have integrated the newest technologies into their output. This affinity with technology now raises questions about the very nature of the composer. The laptop I’m using to type this page has many times over the audio processing and synthesis power of all the computers at Bell Laboratories in 1957 where Max Mathews created MUSIC, one of the first computer programs to play electronic music. This growth in computing power (and related telecommunications technology) reaches across domains, transforming the manner in which people find, create, experience and use music (and all media), affording those with access the freedom to create and share their work and identity as a multimedia artist with unprecedented ease. This begs the question, “Why would someone want to limit themselves to being a composer?”
For the student composer, emphasis falls on preparation for making a living off of and contributing to the classical canon, while the cultural authority of this music wanes . This approach ignores the realities of modern cultural production where the artifacts created and the artist that create them are increasingly difficult to describe within traditional disciplinary boundaries. Internationally recognized creativity scholar Ken Robinson stated in his 2006 TED Talk, “Creativity, which I define as the process of having original ideas that have value, more often than not, comes about through the interaction of different disciplinary ways of seeing things.” If one may count on the consensus that composition is in fact a creative activity, then certainly music scholarship may profit from interdisciplinary work. The broader social benefit is clearly described by biologist and social theorist Edmund O. Wilson, “Most of the issues that vex humanity daily – economic conflict, arms escalation, overpopulation, abortion, environment, poverty – cannot be solved without integrating knowledge from the natural sciences with that of the social sciences and humanities. Only fluency across the boundaries will provide a clear view of the world as it really is . . .”
So – What does it mean to be a composer in world where an inexpensive laptop grants easy control over audio, video, photographic content, graphic design, text and the means to easily share your products in a space where physical proximity will eventually be of no hindrance at all? My current work addresses this paradigm from the perspective of music composition, a point of view often neglected in multimedia arts. Commonly this portion of the audio component is hired out to composers tasked with creating a work to specification and in service of the other media elements. More often audio is selected from batches of banal pre-fabricated clips in a manner similar to selecting from stock photography. Devices to capture, create and manipulate media are growing in power and connectivity while shrinking in size and we are creating the content. Humans create, share and engage culture through what’s in our pocket, on our kitchen tables, in rows by the dozen at university computer labs. Modern Scholarship in music composition must embrace this paradigm or leave matters to the media conglomerates where monetary returns are the only obligation.
Below is film_2: role strain. Taken with film_1: three variation, these films begin the narrative that will form a self-reflective exploration of what happens when an expensively trained composer tries to reach out beyond his sphere – when music in a multimedia work is central to the formal and aesthetic constitution of the work – not just clip art.
sound?
While preparing to kick off my dissertation project (read more about my dissertation at sammerciers.com), I sought advice from people with a background in video or film. I was confident I could handle the technical aspects of making film projects. What I was looking for was the sage advice of an Obi-Wan to my Luke Skywalker – some overarching principles to guide me. The most common advice I got was something like this, “Don’t just throw the video portion in as an afterthought. Make sure that it has a reason to be there.” Good advice no doubt, yet the more I’ve considered this advice the more I’ve realized that this is the way music is treated in film projects most of the time. How often in your average summer blockbuster could you take the existing score and replace it with something from Sibelius with no one being the wiser? I recently found this film through ubu.com. If you have an interest in sound as art, you should check it out.
Wandering in the Wilderness Vol. 3: Totalism
I suppose I should begin this blog entry by apologizing for my absence. It has been a while since my last post on the Hand, partially because I was caught up in the academic doldrums of the summer, and partially because I was launching my new video blog, The Brazen Drum. While the video blog is my shiny new toy, I plan to continue blogging here as well because: a) I enjoy writing, and b) I see these two mediums as serving different (yet complimentary and possibly overlapping) purposes.
Well, now that that’s out of the way, let’s go wandering in the wilderness again and explore another topic in new music: Totalism. While sometimes used in political terms as a synonym for totalitarianism, totalism in music refers to a specific branch of post-minimalist music which developed in the 1990s. Indeed, while I was listening to Pearl Jam (Vs. is by far their best album, don’t try to argue with me) and scouring the local Goodwill for the perfect flannel shirt, a group of young composers in New York were developing their own brand of post-minimalist music.
The “total” in totalism (as noted by Kyle Gann) does not refer to the music itself, but to the intended audience. The driving force behind totalism is pairing an accessible surface (usually through familiar harmonies or rhythmic activity), which the casual listener is able to grasp, with a deeper structural complexity, which reveals itself to the more sophisticated listener. If I may offer a metaphor, consider the ocean. The surface of the ocean, vast and beautiful, is accessible to any viewer. Occasionally, marine life near the surface give glimpses of what is beneath. To the well-equipped, however, there is a depth and complexity which we are only beginning to explore with modern submarines and diving apparatus.
While it’s not an essential trait of the genre, totalist composers often draw on rock and pop music influences. While the surface harmony is often accessible to the casual listener, these pieces are generally more harmonically adventurous than traditional minimalist music.
Now, a few representative examples:
“Sun Dance” from “Custer and Sitting Bull” by Kyle Gann
This excerpt is from Kyle Gann’s musical drama, “Custer and Sitting Bull.” Gann is, among other things, a microtonal composer. In lay terms, this means he uses intervals small than a half step (the smallest on tonal music). This accounts for the “out-of-tune,” disorienting surface harmonies.
Please pardon the self-promotion, but this example, taken from my last recital at MSU, features a piece by totalist composer Joseph Waters. This piece is based on rhythms taken from Cuban Santeria rituals. This piece exhibits and exciting, accessible surface, but is structurally complex in it’s use and development of rhythmic motives. There are often several layers of the same rhythm, played at different tempi.
I wanted to include this piece because Maya Beiser is a bad-ass cellist, and because Michael Gordon is a major player in the totalism scene. Note how the video in the background can represent a metaphor for totalism: a very active surface, but with a complexity that eludes the viewer.
Finally, this beautiful piece by John Luther Adams. The active surface of this piece is provided by the piano and percussion, while the strings and winds play complex, slowly developing harmonies. Many people believe that Adams’ sparse, sprawling textures evoke the barren plains of Alaska where he currently lives and works.
This concludes this foray into the wilderness of totalism. I leave you with a few questions. Which of these pieces did you enjoy? Which did you dislike? Why?
For further reading, checkout this excellent article by Kyle Gann.
Until next time, keep wandering…
Premieres of New Music…right here!
Normally, we don’t advertise individual concerts much here on Guidonian Hand. You, dear reader, could be anywhere when you’re reading this…well, maybe not anywhere. I’d say there are at least…four…no, five different places you could be right now. Anyway, we don’t mention these events because the chances are not good that you’re going to be near enough to stop by. Now, if you are capable of reading this sentence, you are capable of seeing a live performance of new music.
That’s right, tune in here on the blog, or over at UStream.tv for a live webcast of Premieres of New Music by Michigan State composers at 7:30pm EST tonight (Tues., 20 Oct, 2009). No signing up or logging in required either here or at Ustream!
We’d also love your feedback here in the MSU Composition Channel Chat, or on in the comments field on our UStream.tv page
Enjoy!
(NOTE: To watch the webcast, you’ll have to load this page AFTER we’ve started broadcasting. If it’s getting close to showtime, and you don’t see anything, try clicking your browser’s “refresh” button.)
25 Magnificent Modern Day Movie Illustrations (Repost)
I stole this link from a friend. It highlights modern artwork interpretations of movie posters and novelizations of some famous movies. Check it out:
http://www.mymodernmet.com/profiles/blogs/25-magnificent-modern-day
Ghost Busters and The Dark Knight posters, reimagined
Better Know a Sequenza (part 3)
In an effort to share the music of Luciano Berio with the world, we here at the Guidonian Hand bring you part two of our fourteen-part series, Better Know a Sequenza.
In this installment: My personal favorite of the cycle, Sequenza VII for oboe, and it’s alternate for soprano saxophone. VII is special for a couple of reasons. First, it is one of the handful of “alternate” sequenzas in the collection. It was originally written for oboe, but do to the nature of oboe literature (and the nature of oboists–ZING!), it’s more frequently performed on soprano saxophone as Sequenza VIIb. Additionally, VII is one of only two sequenzas (along with X for trumpet) that has a second “part.” Berio asks for a drone to sound on any instrument (or voice) throughout the work on the pitch B.
I’ve seen the work performed a few times, and I’ve heard of the drone being produced any number of ways: a digital tuner, a pre-recorded loop of the soloist, a group of other players, and even asking the audience to hum the B. Humming the B sounds cool, but I think I’d get tired of it by the sixth or seventh minute of the piece.
YouTube offers us many complete recordings of some very impressive performances of VIIb, but only a few excerpts of VII. Saxophone friends have told me that they have heard that Berio himself grew to prefer the piece played on soprano saxophone. However, in doing research on the piece, I was not able to corroborate this. Personally, I prefer it on oboe. Here are a few Sequenza VII videos.
First, we bring you the incomparable Alex Klein, principal oboe of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. You can hear the audience humming in this one.
This next video features another excerpt from the beginning section of the work. This time, the drone is being passed around a group of oboists.
Berio’s use of the drone is one of the things that first draws the listener in at the beginning of the piece. The soloist begins with a sharp, short B, and the audience initially hears the drone as an ethereal reverberation. The next half-minute or so is controlled by the soloist playing the same B with different fingerings to get slightly different timbres and tunings, and the drone is thoughtfully provided as a reference point to compare each new sound as it is introduced. Throughout most of the piece (leading up to the climax, near the “golden section”), the range of the oboe is gradually expanding in both directions from that B. The ending of the piece features some instrumental calisthenics and some timbral heroics, thanks to some really cool multiphonics. I like the bright, piercing quality of the oboe multiphonics, but the equally harsh, fuller-sounding multiphonics on the soprano saxophone are nice, too.
In conclusion we bring you a very thoughtful and enthusiastic performance of Sequenza VIIb played by Taimur Sullivan. Also, this one is the whole work, so you get to luxuriate in Berio’s formal design.
Guido, let’s put Sequenza VII up on the Big Board! The fightin’ VIIth!
