Alarm Will Sound is a 20-piece chamber orchestra new music ensemble band
which boasts an enviable critical and popular reputation -- the New
York Times called them "the future of classical music," fercrissakes.
They are very important to us here at Pulse -- in fact, they were one
of the bands Joe had in mind when he first proposed this merry composers' federation.
Last night, they made their (sold-out) debut at Carnegie's Zankel Hall
with a program called "Odd Couples," which paired works by composers
who share a personal connection but represent very different styles:
Edgar Varèse - Frank Zappa
John Cage - John Cale
Bernard Woma - Derek Bermel
Wolfgang Rihm - John Adams
All of the music was accompanied by projections on the screen behind
the band, announcing the pieces and occasionally supplying quotes,
photographs, graphics, etc. Purists will no doubt cringe, but I thought
these were mostly -- with one notable exception (see below) --
effective and unobtrusive.
The gig kicked off with Zappa's Dog Breath Variations/Uncle Meat, in a similar arrangement to the one used on the Ensemble Moderne's The Yellow Shark.
Performers walked on stage only as required, and the brass made their
initial entrances from opposite sides of Zankel's two-tiered balcony,
giving a very effective antiphonal (3D surround-sound) effect. Dog/Meat
features a lot of brief solos and solis, which gave most of the members
of ALS a chance to introduce themselves -- in fact, the players were in
constant circulation throughout the piece, moving to center stage when
needed, and retreating as necessary. Of course, this meant everyone had
to play from memory. Definitely a dramatic, engaging set-opener.
Next was Cage's 0'00" -- a followup to the infamous 4'33", written ten years prior. The score for 0'00" (which actually lasts for an undetermined length of time) consists of the following sentence:
"In a situation provided with maximum amplification (no feedback), perform a disciplined action."
As it turned out, the "disciplined action" consisted of the members of
AWS reconfiguring the stage for the next piece -- a parodically
stylized and choreographed moving of instruments, chairs, music stands,
etc, the sounds amplified out of all proportion by the floor mics. The
piece's end was signaled by a sudden change in lighting.
Next, Ghanian gyil master Bernard Woma contributed a Brazillian-inflected piece called Gyil Mambo,
in a colorful and effective arrangement by one of Woma's students and
collaborators, David Rogers. As you might imagine, this piece featured
AWS's killing percussion section -- Dennis DeSantis, Payton
MacDonald, and Peter Wise -- offering up a credible, hard-grooving
Brazillian mambo. I did wish the winds could have played a bit less on
top of the beat, but that's a relatively minor quibble -- this was an
infectiously joyful rendition of Woma's work, and the composer himself
seemed quite pleased with how it turned out.
The one premiere last night came courtesy of German composer Wolfgang
Rihm, who was quoted (in the projected slides) as saying "I am very
excited to write for your crazy ensemble." Will Sound is an
expressionist sound-painting via Jackson Pollack, a showcase for AWS's
cohesive ensemble sound and Alan Pierson's amazing conducting chops.
(Man, I gotta get a lesson with this guy... )
AWS closed the first set with a piece by another Woma student/collaborator, Derek Bermel. Three Rivers is a metametric-influenced
piece which incorporates three distinct rhythmic currents -- sometimes
discretely, and sometimes in combination. It's a very attractive composition,
beginning with swing brushes on the drum kit and syncopated grungy
Mingusian figures in the low winds and strings. I liked this piece a
lot, and the performance was impressive.
But... well, okay, please indluge me in a little digression:
There are actually a lot of classically-trained
musicians who have a deep and sincere love of jazz, but nonetheless
can't swing from a rope. This is understandable. Swing is hard enough
to grok for jazz players of my generation, who didn't grow up with
Basie and Lunceford and Henderson on the radio every night, didn't come
of age in an era where all popular music was saturated with swing
figures, have no intuitive understanding of the hugely significant
regional differences in swing feels -- Kansas City swing vs. Detroit
swing, and so on.
Now, plenty of professional jazz musicians -- including a number of big
names, coming soon to a jazz festival near you -- have no concept of
swing to speak of. So it's a bit much to expect most
classically-trained musicians to master an elusive time feel that isn't
anywhere near as central to their repertoire as it is to ours.
On the other hand, I still have nightmares about some of the
nauseatingly misguided performances I've heard of pieces like
Bernstein's Prelude, Fugue and Riffs or (more seriously), Kleiner blauer Teufel from Gunther Schuller's Seven Studies on Themes of Paul Klee. Now, I certainly don't mean to suggest that the AWS rendition of Three Rivers
was anything like the cringe-inducing performances of which I speak.
Far from it -- in fact, Dennis DeSantis's drumming and Miles Brown's
pizz bass playing are both eminently credible. I would even say that
AWS swings harder than any classical ensemble I've heard (and I apologize if that
sounds like damning with faint praise).
However... look, I know there's nothing cheaper than free advice, but
allow me to tender a suggestion that comes straight from Bob
Brookmeyer, who, uh, knows whereof he speaks. The trick to swing
phrasing in a large ensemble is to understand the difference between
anticipations (i.e., offbeat eighth notes tied over, or followed by a
rest) and consecutive eighth notes. Anticipations are always played
late, on the back side of the third triplet. AWS are actually pretty
good on the anticipations. Where they fall down is on the consecutive
eighth notes, which are much straighter than you'd think. In fact, why
not try playing them perfectly straight, but with a slight tongue
(/bow) accent on the offbeats? There are worse places to start.
[Obviously, this maxim doesn't apply to skip beats on the ride
cymbal or in bass lines -- that's an entirely different
thing.]
Moving on... the second set opened with Varèse's Intégrales,
done in an even more aggressively antiphonal style -- the performers
circulated up and down the aisles, took up strategic positions on the
balconies, and were constantly reconfiguring themselves even while on
stage. By necessity, Alan Pierson conducted from the middle of the
audience -- and, like the first-set opener, this work was necessarily
done almost entirely from memory.
All of this might have seemed a wee bit mannered and pretentious if the
performance fell short in any way... but it didn't. In fact, this was,
hands-down, the most astonishing rendition of Varèse I have ever heard.
Integrales was definitely the highlight of the evening -- it was the piece everyone kept gushing about after the gig -- so it
seems almost churlish for me to mention the projection of a stupid,
casually misogynistic Zappa quote during the piece (something to the
effect of "I'd put a piece by Varèse on and it would drive away all the
girls and the stupid boys -- the rest, you could have a conversation
with"). But sorry, it pissed me off and took me momentarily out of the
piece -- especially since there are plenty of non-idiotic
Zappa-on-Varèse quotes that could have gone in its place.
The second Cage piece on the program, Variations III, was
another furniture-moving piece, this time with more improvisatory
choreography. As the program says, "the score consists simply of a
series of transparencies with markings on them, which are then dropped
onto a blank sheet of paper by potential performers, who interpret the
resulting marks whichever way they desire." There was a cute bit with
Alan Pierson (still seated in the audience at this point, remember),
asking his neighbors if he might borrow their program, using any word
order except the normal one -- and then reading every nth word
from the program notes. However, the collective stagehands-with-OCD
routine evntually wore thin -- and honestly, with all the kabuki-hubub
on stage, I found it very difficult to even try to perceive this as a
work in and of itself.
Next up was Dennis DeSantis's arrangement of John Cale's 1994 soundtrack for Andy Warhol's 1963 short film Kiss
-- which, for those of you who haven't seen it, is exactly what you
would expect if someone told you Andy Warhol made a film called Kiss.
The music was stripped-down and minimal, with beautiful wordless vocals
by Courtney Orlando, and a searing improvised violin solo at the end
from Caleb Burhans.
Burhans also arranged the last piece on the program, John Adams's "Coast," from the composer's 1993 synth record Hoodoo Zephyr.
Despite some sound problems with the electric bass and keyboards, this
was a hugely satisfying and energetic finale, a cascade of accumulated
polyrhythms and asynchronous bliss.
The crowd insisted on an encore, which turned out to be Cock/Ver10, the first track from AWS's latest record, Acoustica
-- a curious collection of Aphex Twin covers. Alarm Will Sound is the
rare classical group with the rhythmic authority to credibly tackle the
breakbeat canon, and it was immensely satisfying to hear the live
version of this track. Acoustica might sound like a bit of a
gimmick -- and, to be fair, it is, kinda -- but the inventive
arrangements and aggressive recontextualization suggest subtle and
musically meaningful parallels between recent trends in Downtown
metametricism and the 1990's English ambient scene.
Bottom line: a inspired and inspiring night from a brilliant group. I can't wait for the next one.
UPDATE: Arthur S. Leonard comments as well.
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