Record Roundup: Vox Humana

From choruses to individual singers, there is something about the sounds of other people's voices that can elicit strong emotions - and make us feel less alone. In sorting through the flood of new music from the last few months, I found my attention drawn by several albums that put the focus the human voice, making them perfect for these times of isolation and limited contact with others. 

Roomful Of Teeth - Michael Harrison: Just Constellations It's easy to take this vocal ensemble for granted, such is the consistency of their excellence. But they continue to push into new territories and this EP, reflecting a deep collaboration with the composer, is a great example of how their preternatural skill can translate into a heavenly listening experience. The difficulty of the piece, sung in just intonation and designed to be heard in the extremely resonant space of The Tank in Rangley Colorado, is all under the hood, as the results sound as natural as breathing. Read their notes to go deeper into the La Monte Young influence and look at Harrison's titles to pick up the poetry behind his conception, but neither is necessary to be transported by this remarkable work.

Roomful Of Teeth - Wally Gunn: The Ascendant Based on the evocative, high modernist poetry of Maria Zajkowski, this enigmatic work shows the range of Roomful, both stylistically and in terms of octaves. The deep bass and higher notes are knit together by the metronomic percussion of Jason Treuting of SO Percussion, which also lends a sense of ritual occasion to the piece. There's a barely banked wildness to The Ascendant, like a placid landscape where nature's violence is hidden only by distance from which you're viewing it. In short, it's furiously compelling, and the power of the piece is even greater than I imagined based on the three parts sprinkled throughout Roomful's 2015 album, Render. It's easy to see why the vinyl edition of this (and Just Constellations) sold out in short order!

Lorelei Ensemble - David Lang: Love Fail (Version for Women's Chorus) 
Quince Ensemble - David Lang: Love Fail
This beautiful work from 2012, which weaves legends of Tristan and Isolde from various sources with short stories by Lydia Davis, was originally recorded in 2014 by those masters of the Medieval, Anonymous Four. Now, we have two new recordings, with one being a reworked version for more voices, which Lorelei premiered in 2016. The Quince Ensemble display more verve and warmth than Anonymous Four, making their recording the new go-to in the original scoring. But it's the Lorelei Ensemble, and Lang's brilliant use of harmony, that fully illuminates the haunting power of the piece, giving it a spacious 3-D quality that is truly immersive. A triumph on every level, lot least in the way the percussion is integrated into the sound world, which neither of the other recordings seem to get quite right. That two note refrain in the last movement, played on tuned bells in, takes on a burnished weight that lingers long after the music stops. While all three recordings are more than worthwhile, it's to the Lorelei's version that I will be returning most often.

Michael Hersch - I hope we get a chance to visit soon There's so much positivity around "fighting cancer" in American culture that it is unexpectedly satisfying to hear it addressed as being as awful as it really is. Which is exactly what Hersch does in this painfully searing and intense work. Drawing on letters between him and his friend Mary Harris O’Reilly, some written while they were both being treated for cancer, and weaving in poems by Rachel Elson, the piece is as unflinching in its text as it is in its scoring. The music, is sharp and fragmentary, sometimes adjacent to the words and sometimes acting as an anguished Greek chorus. Hersch's mastery begins with his conception, which is scored for two sopranos (Ah Young Hong and Kiera Duffy, both outstanding), with one singing the poems and the other speaking the letters in a halting and slightly horrified tone that perfectly captures the way the mind protests the mere fact that you've been diagnosed with cancer. Like all of Hersch's work, I hope... is a very serious work of art, but the dignity and compassion he brings to this lacerating material elevates it to a point where anyone who has suffered loss in their lives (which is everyone, right) will ultimately find it a balm for their wounded soul. We owe Hersch a debt of gratitude for never turning away from subject matter that would make other artists uncomfortable. Kudos, too to the Musicians of the Mahler Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Tito Muñoz, who find the perfect emotional balance between restraint and rage in this beautifully recorded live performance.

Sarah Kirkland Snider - Mass For The Endangered While at first this felt a bit traditional for my taste, it is so sincere and eloquent in its absorption of the great masses of the past by Bach, Palestrina, etc. - and so sheerly gorgeous - that it is undeniably uplifting. The text is by Nathaniel Bellows, the poet, musician, and artist (he also did the album cover art) with whom Snider worked on her lush and dramatic song cycle Unremembered, which was released in 2015. The "endangered" in the title is all the flora and fauna put at risk by human activities, and the mass appeals, in Snider's words, "...to a higher power--for mercy, forgiveness, and intervention--but that appeal is directed not to God but rather to Nature itself." But even without those details, the sublime counterpoint and expert architecture, all perfectly executed by Gallicantus, an English ensemble conducted by Gabriel Crouch, would be enough to reward full immersion in the piece. May it be performed in many houses of worship - and elsewhere - when in-person gatherings are again safe and people themselves no longer feel endangered.

Miyamoto Is Black Enough - Burn / Build This incendiary album comes on with such elemental force that at first I was repelled. But upon revisiting, I leant into the heat and let it cleanse me. Catharsis. It also helped that as I was trying to grasp what was going on, I made the connection between Roger Bonair Agard's vocal approach and that of the great Linton Kwesi Johnson (whose Bass Culture celebrated its 40th anniversary earlier this year). Both are poets of Caribbean origin who worked in spoken word before combining their talents with music. Agard also has a little of Johnson's quality of rage - restrained, vaguely amused, but ready to explode if just one more ember lands on him. The musical backing is quite different from the roots reggae Johnson employed, however, which also stopped me in my tracks. Centered around Andy Akiho's steel pans and Jeffrey Zeigler's cello, and anchored by Sean Dixon's drums, bass, and electronics, it references reggae and hip hop, but is also angular and post-punk, ending up sounding like nothing else. The subject matter, including songs about Blackness and gentrification, is firmly on the pulse of our moment and served up with the immediacy of a status update yet with the craft only a true poet can deliver. If you're curious about the name they chose for the group, Google "Ariana Miyamoto" - but whatever you do, don't miss this album.

Missy Mazzoli - Proving Up While I've seen parts of Mazzoli's first opera, Song From The Uproar, I've managed to miss both of her other collaborations with librettist Royce Vavrek, Breaking The Waves and Proving Up. Fortunately, we now have a complete recording of the latter, and it is a revelation. A compelling exposé of the lie behind the American dream told through the stories of Nebraskan homesteaders in the 19th century, it puts many of Mazzoli's virtues on display - the forward motion, the sleek embrace of darkness - while foregrounding some new ones. As much of her music as I've heard in the last eight years, I was not prepared for something that was as utterly American as Aaron Copland and as cannily theatrical as Benjamin Britten. I'm sure Vavrek helped with the latter, but without the libretto in front of me (or performers on a stage, for that matter), I'm enjoying it mostly as a musical experience with a strong narrative thrust. While the baritone of John Moore is a standout, the singing is uniformly fantastic, as is the playing by members of the International Contemporary Ensemble, ably conducted by Christopher Rountree. Proving Up is easily the best new opera I've heard in years and further proof of Mazzoli's mastery. Hope we get a recording of Breaking The Waves soon.

Du Yun - A Cockroach's Tarantella We hear a lot about "resilience" in these quarentimes, and there is no better symbol of resilience than the lowly cockroach, a survivor's survivor for over 350 million years. In this piece, which Du Yun completed a decade ago, the wonderfully imaginative composer goes Kafka one better, arriving at a complete mind meld with the titular insect. And her roach is a true individualist, sick of lugging around her eggs and longing for human emotions. For all the times when our feelings are a burden, consider seeing 20 of your children exterminated and not being able to feel anything. Du Yun, as committed a performer as she is a composer, delivers the roach's tale in a tart, conversational fashion, in both English and Chinese, not overselling the fantastical nature of the piece. If this all sounds a bit abstract to you, get a gander at Julian Crouch's wondrous short film, and all will become clear.

In this recording, miraculously made just a month or two ago, Du Yun is given the perfect accompaniment by the JACK Quartet, who navigate the dynamics of the piece perfectly. They also shine on Tattooed On Snow, a 15-minute piece for string quartet from 2014 getting its first recording here. It has a cinematic sweep and no small amount of insectile sounds of its own, making for a compact introduction to Du Yun's sound world. The album is bookended by two short pieces,  Epilogue and Prologue (in that order), with the former featuring field recordings from Wuhan's market just after the lockdown was lifted. While the subjects of alienation and feeling uncomfortable in one's own skin are evergreen, this is an album that will help us locate what it meant to human in 2020. 

Listen to selections from these albums in this playlist or below.



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Missy Mazzoli: Lush Rigor
Skylark's Liminal Journey
Best Of 2017: Classical
Conversing Across Centuries, Part 2: Italia

Concert Review: Shadows And Hope At Zankel Hall

Programming a concert has many challenges. First of all, it’s commonplace for it to be at least two hours of music, which gives the audience their money’s worth but requires much preparation. If you’re presenting a new piece, that might eat up a disproportionate amount of your rehearsal time. Playing an unfamiliar work might also lead you to want to give the audience some comfort food, in the forms of a warhorse or other frequently performed piece. Fortunately, the American Composers Orchestra did not fall into that trap last Thursday, when they played in Zankel Hall as part of Carnegie Hall’s massive and ambitious festival, Migrations: The Making Of America. But they did struggle a bit to connect works that were musically disparate and resonated with each other only on a strictly cerebral level. But that was the only issue I had with the concert, which was played both immaculately and with a generosity of feeling. 

The first piece was Morton Feldman’s Turfan Fragments (1980) which was inspired by bits of 1,500-year-old knotted carpet from Turkestan and, as such, was designed to be a series of unresolved parts. For a first hearing of this slippery work I was immediately struck by how resolute it was in its very irresolute-ness, as if Feldman was determined that it not come together in a way we expect from an orchestral piece. There were many sonic delights within, however, like the pizzicato section that came about five minutes in. And there may have been no harder working man in New York that night than conductor George Manahan, whose precise baton movements hinted at the challenge Feldman designed for those who dare to assay these “fragments” - a challenge more than met by him and the ACO. 

Next we were treated to a some brief remarks from Gloria Coates, describing how her Symphony No. 1, “Music on Open Strings,” took shape between 1971, when it was commissioned by the Rhinelander Chamber Orchestra, and 1974, when it was completed. She wasn’t able to finish her whole tale of artistic discovery, and it is a gripping story, but it was also well-told by her in the program notes. Coates, who turned 80 last year, was born in Wisconsin but traveled from her home in Germany to witness her piece’s Carnegie Hall debut. It was also my introduction to her work, as she has been in the “I know the name but that’s all” category for some time. Now I'm kicking myself because I know what I've been missing!

I was quickly sucked into the unique sound world she creates, with bows swooping and gliding across strings and sometimes tapping them. Knuckles were also knocked against wood for dramatic effect, just one reason I was on the edge of my seat. Part of the work’s distinctive quality comes from Coates’s idea to have the players re-tune their instruments periodically throughout, which was a great opportunity for the ACO and Manahan to show how well they communicate. A nod of the head from one of the bassists toward the podium was all the conductor needed to know that the musician was ready. Ultimately, the brooding intensity of the piece, which reminded me of Shostakovich at times, was more important than the mechanics of how Coates got there. I’m looking forward to learning more about her catalogue and hope we don’t have to wait for her centenary for it to be celebrated and highlighted in the musical life of NYC. 

Instead of an intermission, there was a panel discussion featuring the collaborators who created the evening’s main event, the New York premiere of Where We Lost Our Shadows (2019). Composer Du Yun was joined by filmmaker Khaled Jarrar, ACO Artistic Director Derek Bermel, and vocalist Ali Sethi. Du Yun talked about how she crafted the work with these specific soloists in mind, instead of casting them later. Having already decided that ragas would be incorporated into the piece, Sethi became a real asset as he guided her through 800 years of music from the Indus region. Sethi also demonstrated some of the basic Qawwali forms he would be using, giving the audience a sneak preview of his wondrous voice. Jarrar described his way of embedding himself with immigrant communities, gaining their trust and getting a view of the extremes of their experiences. Author Didier Fassin, whose book, Life: A Critical User's Manual, informed some of the thinking behind the piece, was also on hand to offer some sobering facts about migrant mortality: It has been on the rise worldwide for decades and many deaths go uncounted with even the names of the dead unknown or unrecorded. 

L-R: Didier Fassin, Ali Sethi, Du Yun, Khaled Jarrar & Derek Bermel
Photo by Jennifer Taylor

According to the program notes, “Where We Lost Our Shadows is a piece for orchestra, video, and soloists that focuses on human migration as a question of perpetual movement and exodus that repeats throughout history, passing on collective and individual traumas and rejuvenations from generation to generation.” That measured explanation barely hinted at the deeply emotional combination of sound and vision that transpired over the half hour of the piece, which literally started with a BANG, struck by percussionist Shayna Dunkelman on an enormous side drum. I know Dunkelman as a member of avant-rock band Xiu Xiu but was unaware of the breadth of her musicianship, which became stunningly apparent during the heart-stopping solo that began the work. 

When the orchestra came in, accompanied by what I believe was an electronic tanpura (Sethi seemed to be holding one during the panel discussion), it was almost a relief from the tension built up by the drums. Sethi began singing in his rich, slightly husky voice, seeming to craft his ancient melodies out of the air with his hand gestures. There was a chaotic darkness on the screen, which eventually gave way to an interview on the streets of Turkey with a family overjoyed because they had just gotten their authorization to travel to Europe, where they would find a new home after leaving Syria. They kept smiling even when saying they had been living in the streets while waiting for their papers. Their sweet, shining faces stood as a testament to the indomitable human spirit - and an indictment of what people do to other people. 

"Where do you sleep?" "In the streets." Photo by Jennifer Taylor.

Helga Davis, the third soloist and an incredible singer and performer, then stood up and unleashed all the pain and sorrow that lay behind those smiles. There was another percussion interlude, even more intricate than the first, and further explorations of Qawwali, leading to a stunning duet between Sethi and Davis. Just as there are no easy answers to the refugee crisis, ...Shadows ended without a sense of closure - it just stopped. The audience caught their breath and then stood for a generous standing ovation. While it’s hard to be entirely sure based on one performance, I feel fairly certain that the music, in which I sensed a new level gravitas for Du Yun, will more than hold its own without the visuals. I urge the powers that be to record it as soon as possible!

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Best Of 2018: Three Concerts

I only had a chance to write about a fraction of the live shows I saw last year. There were spectacular shows from the realm of rock by Palm, Bon Iver and Jonathan Wilson. Then there were contemporary classical performances at The Kitchen as part of the MATA Festival, by ACME in memory of Jóhann Jóhansson, a Red Bull-sponsored concert featuring the music of Tristan Perich (50 violins!) and a portrait of Du Yun at the Miller Theater. But there were several more moments of music in the dark that stuck with me. Here’s a brief selection that I hope will point you towards some of your own moments of transcendence. 

Killing Joke at Irving Plaza, Wednesday September 12, 2018

I’ll state this plainly: everyone should see Killing Joke. Just as everyone should experience the Eiffel Tower, the pyramids, the canals of Venice, or the Grand Canyon, everyone should come face to face with this uncompromising band of brothers who put forth a sonic blast like no other. But good luck - when they come to NYC it’s typically for two nights at at Irving Plaza (capacity 1,200), which sell out months in advance. Well, pardon me for being among the converted when they came to preach during their 40th anniversary "Laugh At Your Peril" tour - a more generous man would have donated his ticket to the uninitiated!

Part of my impetus for going was that I hadn't seen them perform since 2007. Plus, their last album, Pylon from 2015, was among their best and I wanted to feel the physicality of those songs come towards me from the stage. Also - 40 years. How many other bands are still touring with their original lineup after all that time? 

Killing Joke

After an ambitious but ultimately forgettable opening set from PIG, the four men of Killing Joke - Jaz Coleman (vocals), Geordie (guitar), Youth (bass) and Big Paul Ferguson (drums) - took the stage along with a touring keyboard player and kicked the night off with Love Like Blood. By the time the colorful guitar arpeggios faded and they had barreled through European Super State and Autonomous Zone, it was obvious they were in top form. In some ways it was not unlike the last time, in 2007, with Geordie standing stock still, spraying notes and chords from his trademark Gibson ES-295, Youth slouching and plucking his bass seemingly without a care, Big Paul working his kit like a steam train stoker, and Jaz striking kabuki poses and pulling magnificent faces. But there was a lightness that was new, a joy in what they were doing, the glorious experience of craft and art overlapping, like a chair built by Picasso. 

The setlist stretched from 1980 to 2015 and, although the records occasionally trucked with the production whims of their eras, on this night it was as though that 35-year span pancaked into a continuum of urgency that remained at a white heat. I stood there and let it burn me, accepting that this might have been the last time I see Killing Joke. But I sure hope it isn't. And if they do happen to come around again, maybe I'll buy you a ticket so you can tell your grandchildren you saw one of the wonders of the world.

Summer Like The Season, Nnux, Elana Low at Sidewalk Café, Friday, November 9, 2018

Summer Like The Season (SLTS), a quartet from Detroit were both headliners and curators of this varied evening at Sidewalk, an East Village institution that just recently went under the renovator’s sledgehammer. Some may mourn, but if they can improve the awkward layout of the back room, where the music takes place, that will not be a bad thing. The sound was good, though, so hopefully they won’t fix what’s not broken. 

Elana Low started off the night, which confused me at first as she wasn’t in the information I had on the lineup. But I was instantly mesmerized by her harmonium and her honeyed, vibrato-free voice. Her songs, mostly original, found a fascinating intersection between folk songs of long ago and the immediacy of text threads between friends and lovers. At this point Low was still in her first year of music making, and seemed come an astonishing distance in that time. To prove to myself that she wasn’t an apparition, I went out to see her again about a month later at Pete’s Candy Store and she was even better!

Elana Low and Her Harmonium

None of the recordings on her SoundCloud quite do her bewitching work justice (Wolf Country comes closest), but I expect that to change when she releases her first EP later this year. In the meantime, follow her on all the socials, sign up for her extremely well-written and engaging newsletter, and try to get out to one of her upcoming concerts. Perhaps I’ll see you there. 

Next on the bill was Nnux, the project of Mexican singer and composer Ana Lopez-Réyes. I had prepped for the moment by listening to her 2017 EP, Distancia, which would definitely have been on my Best Of 2017: Electronic list had I heard it. On its three songs, Nnux stacks rich electronics up against acoustic brass and percussion creating a fresh synthesis of familiar elements. It would be a fascinating, immersive listen even if she hadn’t lavished her gorgeous voice all over the tracks. Based on the EP alone, which I played on repeat, I knew I was in the presence of an artist well along her way to making a wider impact. 

Nnux

Her stage presence and performance did not disabuse me of that notion, either - it actually strengthened it. Fully in command of her keyboard and other electronics, Nnux unveiled one incantation after another, nearly expanding the walls of tiny Sidewalk with her power. She is a major talent and, if given the chance, I can see her at National Sawdust, Roulette, LPR - and beyond - in the near future. Given a community and more collaborators, there's no telling how far she could go. She has a bunch of local dates scheduled - get to one of them and tell me I'm wrong! Back in the present, I was already floored by Nnux and Low, and there was still one act left to go, the group I had come to see in the first place. 

I was amazed by how quickly SLTS set up their gear, shoehorning it all onto the small stage. This was the moment I had been waiting for ever since bandleader, singer and drummer Summer Krinsky has sent me their music, which I found immediately captivating. She counted it off and they launched into their set, immediately in sync with each other, tight, adventurous, surprising - always anchored by Krinsky’s drums, although they’re all excellent musicians. 

Summer Like the Season

The set was a total rush, with tricky rhythms, bright melodies, otherworldly harmonies and a variety of almost tactile sonic textures. Even if it was too short for my taste, I came away completely convinced that SLTS not only has the material for an album, but the chops to bring it out to the world in a much bigger way than a pass-the-hat venue like Sidewalk, although no shade on them for giving artists like this an opportunity. Having seen Crumb, a great band with some similarities to SLTS, pack the house at Market Hotel on the strength of just two EP’s, makes it all too easy to envision them doing the same. Perhaps Sidewalk’s hiatus will inspire all three acts to make the push to the next level. Either way, consider this an insider’s tip that it won’t always be pay-what-you-will to go on the musical journey I was lucky enough to take that Friday night in November, and one I would relive in a heartbeat. 

Steven Isserlis with Orpheus Chamber Orchestra at the 92nd Street Y, Sunday December 9th, 2018

I’m not going to lie: it has been decades since I walked into the wood-lined glory that is the Kaufmann Concert Hall at the 92nd Street Y - and it may take me a few visits before it recedes into the background entirely. It is truly one of the gems of Manhattan, with a design that will never look dated, and an acoustic that is so rich and present that I had to convince two older gentlemen that there was no amplification at work. Kudos are also due to the leadership at the Y for keeping it in tip-top shape!

The afternoon began with the American premiere of Hans Rott’s Symphony for String Orchestra, No. 37. It only took 143 years for it to be played on these shores, but it could hardly have had a more persuasive introduction than what the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra delivered. Their conductor-free approach was just as fun to watch as when I saw them at Carnegie Hall with Dawn Upshaw in 1994. Rott was a roommate of Gustav Mahler's and a student of Anton Bruckner's and they both thought very highly of his work. On first listen, I felt that while it is certainly not a major work, it deserved to be heard, and knowing he was only 20 when he composed it relaxed my expectations. It also made for ideal Sunday listening, a mood which would continue with the next piece. 

You could create a 1,000 sprightly pop-folk songs from the melodic DNA of the outer movements of CPE Bach’s Cello Concerto in A Major H.439 - and the way Steven Isserlis tossed his silvery mane while playing them suggests he is more than aware! Not having seen him before, I could only assume his joy was genuine and I let it infect me. The Orpheus seemed slightly more dutiful, if as musically excellent as always, in their performance. 

But the real magic of CPE Bach’s writing here is in the slow movement, the Largo Maestoso, in which he seems to see the future, becoming daringly spare and employing some shifting harmonies over which Isserlis was free to go very deep, emotionally. I continued to think about it for the rest of the day. 

The concert closed with a true meeting of the minds: an arrangement of Franz Schubert’s String Quartet No. 14, AKA Death & The Maiden, that was planned out by Gustav Mahler and completed by David Matthews. Mahler’s inspiration takes the work out of the drawing room and throws it up on an IMAX screen for a highly dramatic and visual approach to Schubert’s narratively driven music. Orpheus gave a superb, ripping performance, completing an afternoon that showed off that amazing hall to beautiful effect. I’m looking forward to returning!

P.S. No photos allowed (boo) so you’re going to have to see it for yourself!

What live shows transported you in 2018?

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Focus On: Contemporary Classical

I often get the question, “How do you keep up with new music?” My answer is usually a detailed description of the various playlists I maintain, the different newsletters, websites, Facebook pages and magazines I monitor, the emails I get from publicists and labels, the Friend Feed on Spotify, etc. But the real answer should be brief: Barely. So, with the year-end looming, here’s a quick rundown of some recent albums and an extraordinary concert in the realm of contemporary classical. I've also included information on three concerts I strongly recommend finding time to attend.

Dan Lippel - "...through which the past shines...": Works by Nils Vigeland and Reiko Füting A truism in the nonprofit world is that "people give to people," meaning that donors are more likely to support an organization when they are asked personally, usually by someone to whom they have a connection. But people also listen to people and I think one of the reasons it's taken me so long to write about this excellent album is that it has a bit of an identity crisis. WHO will we be hearing from and WHAT will they be playing? The title is a mouthful, for one thing. If I were marketing the album, I might have titled it Recent Guitar Masterpieces (admittedly cheesy!) so curious listeners might have at least some idea of the wonders that lie within. I also would have reserved the largest font on the cover for the name Dan Lippel, for it is his virtuosic and deeply musical guitar playing that defines the experience of listening to the album. Fortunately, you have me to explain it all to you.

What we have here are seven pieces, five of them world-premiere recordings, of exquisite solo and chamber music focusing on the acoustic guitar. If you are a fan of the instrument, you need read no more than that before laying cold hard cash down for this record. Four of the pieces are by Nils Vigeland, an American composer, performer and teacher who seems to have a true sensitivity for the guitar. His La Folia Variants from 1996 was recorded over a decade ago by Lippel and included on his album Resonances. Its three lovely, Renaissance-inspired movements should be standard practice at guitar recitals worldwide. Vigeland's Two Variations, from 1990, bookends the album, instilling a sense of absolute peace as you begin and end your journey. The title track, from 2017 and the most recent work here, is also the longest. On it, Lippel is joined by Vigeland on piano and John Popham, of Either/Or and Longleash, on cello, and its sparkling interactions make a stunning case for these forces working together. The final work by Vigeland on the album is Quodlibet from 2011, three movements for guitar and cello based on The Beatles' Hey Jude and Good Day Sunshine, which avoids feeling like a pastiche thanks to the composer's structural skills and depth of invention.

Reiko Füting is a German-born composer and educator who studied around the world, including with Vigeland. His wand-uhr: infinite shadows (2013/16) takes inspiration from a poem by Joseph von Eichendorff but my ears picked out sonorities and techniques that reminded me of Davy Graham's jazz-inspired folk guitar solos. It's even easy to imagine Jimmy Page interpolating some of this into his Black Mountain Side, were he to grace a stage with his presence ever again. Füting's Red Wall (2006), uses dissonance and a broad dynamic range in tribute to the natural beauty of The Alps. Füting's arrangement of the traditional Jewish song Hine ma Tov is also included, using an almost Cubist approach to deconstruct the familiar melody. A digital-only bonus track contains three further variations by Vigeland, a young Icelandic composer named Halidór Smárason, and Lippel himself, a fine dessert after the sonic feast of the album proper. Along with Duo Noire's Night Triptych, this is the best classical guitar album of 2018. Maybe that should have been the title!

Nordic Affect - He(a)r My love for this Icelandic chamber ensemble is well documented (here and here, for starters!) so it pains me slightly to have even a minor quibble about their new album. But the fact is that, no matter how many times I tried, I could not accommodate the title piece by Halla Steinunn Stefánsdóttir. Made up of spoken word soundscapes, its seven parts interspersed throughout the album, I found it only interrupted the mood rather than added to it. So I made a playlist with the other six works, an easy fix that revealed yet another classic album from the quartet.

Maria Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir bookends my version of the album with Spirals and Loom, the latter of which I saw performed live last year with a beautiful abstract video component by Dodda Maggy. Even without the visuals, it is a meditative piece, its long, interweaving notes inviting your breathing to...slow...down. Spirals is a wonderfully sleek and brooding affair that grows lusher as it continues, with electronic elements seemingly designed to unsettle. The way Mirjam Tally's Warm life at the foot of the iceberg opens with a hammered chord on Gudrún Ôskarsdóttir's harpsichord will certainly give you a start and leads to what feels like a competition for sonic resources among the three strings and the keyboard - thrilling.

All the excitement is the perfect introduction for two pieces by the great Anna Thorvaldsdottir, one of the most significant composers of our time. Reflections (2016) conjures up some of the loneliness of the buzzsaw whine of a small aircraft flying over a forest and gradually accumulates drama, pulling you surely along its narrative thread. Impressions was written for Ôskarsdóttir and works both as an haunting exploration of light and shade and showcase for how her technique pushes the harpsichord into new areas. Finally we have Point of Departure by Hildur Guônadóttir, Nordic Affect's cellist, another piece they played in concert. This grave and hymnal work has the musicians singing long notes to accompany their instruments, a reminder of both music's origins in the human body and the symbiotic relationship between artists and their tools of expression.

By all means listen first to He(a)r as Nordic Affect intended; it's possible that you will find the dialogues an enhancement. There's no doubt that some of the thoughts, including quotes from the composer, Roni Horn, Pauline Oliveros and others, are fascinating: "Each totemic ancestor, while traveling through the country, was thought to have scattered a trail of words and musical notes along the lines of his footprints." But if you feel the way I do, don't turn away from the rest of the album, which is truly exquisite.

Du Yun's Stories

Any concert that begins with flute superstar Claire Chase barely visible and summoning the spirits with a bass flute and her voice is already a success. And what followed at Du Yun’s Composer Portrait (with the International Contemporary Ensemble) at the Miller Theater more than lived up to that auspicious start. Chase was playing the finale from An Empty Garlic (2014), an incantatory piece exploring bereavement with compassion and depth (see the complete premiere here), but she was not alone on stage. In a stunning reinvention of the retrospective concert, all 12 players for the first five pieces were placed just so on the darkened stage, ready to perform their piece at their own individual spots, what Du Yun called LEGOs. 

The richly immersive lighting by Nicholas Houfek only increased the sense of seamlessness as the pieces went by with no applause in between. The second LEGO was occupied by Rebekah Heller (bassoon) and Ryan Muncy (saxophones) playing a mashup of Ixtab, 10 PM (2013) and Dinosaur Scar (1999), the pieces combining to seem even more like a free jazz freakout than they do when played on their own. Heller, whose technique is jaw-dropping, had some electronics going as well and vocalized a little along with her instrument. Her and Muncy's grasp of extended techniques made all the clicking and breathy sounds an organic part of their instruments.  

Just as my mind was about to lose the thread, David Bowlin picked it up, playing the ancient-to-modern Under a tree, an udātta (2016) on his violin. It seemed as if the bending, keening notes were coming directly from his soul. Du Yun, whose soul created it, was slowly revealed to be sitting on her own LEGO, in a posture of careful listening. When Bowlin finished, the audience remained in stunned silence as Du Yun stood, her fantastic costume now fully visible, and began Zinc Oxide (2010), a duo with cellist Katinka Kleijn. This had the two of them reciting a brief surreal narrative that sounded like a memoir or a nightmare while ramping up the intensity with Kleijn's cello and Du Yun's "tree trunk," what looked like a small log with strings and a guitar pickup that she played with a bow. 

Between the poses she struck and the delectable distortions of the sounds she made it occurred to me that Du Yun is a post-punk rebel masquerading as Pulitzer-Prize-winning classical composer. That impression wasn't dissipated in the least by the following performance of Air Glow (2006/2018), the newest piece on Du Yun's instant classic Dinosaur Scar, with the five brass players stepping up to their LEGOs from their seats, and Dan Lippel (yes, him again!) sitting alongside them to play the moody guitar and bass parts. It was no less impressive than it is on the record. When the first half was over all I could think was: this show should go on the road!

After a brief intermission, we were treated to a warm and wise discussion between Du Yun and Heller, almost like eavesdropping on old friends, and two pieces for larger ensembles presented in a more conventional, if completely excellent, fashion. Vicissitudes No. 1 (2002) almost felt like  a series of simultaneous solos, with Joshua Rubin seeming to levitate as he unfurled his clarinet part and percussionist Nathan Davis throwing down like John Bonham with head-nodding authority. Then Lippel entered stage right and burned the place down with the steel string guitar solo featured on Dinosaur Scar. He really can do it all! Impeccable Quake (2014) closed the show with the entire ensemble giving it everything they had. I would have put Lippel's guitar higher in the mix so that it cut through the way it does on Dinosaur Scar, but it was still a great performance. Like the entire evening it served to solidify Du Yun's strengths and forced the imagination to consider all the places she can go from here.

Choral Cascade: I can't remember a year when we've had such an embarrassment of vocal riches as we've had in 2018. Impermanence, from Boston's all-female Lorelei Ensemble, spans 800 years of music, including the Codex Calixtinus from the 12th Century and Peter Gilbert's Tsukimi from 2013. In between we have some 15th Century music by DuFay and from the anonymous Turin Codex - three of those pieces are recorded here for the first time - and excerpts from Toru Takemitsu's Windhorse from the 60's. The end result is sublime, as is the recording from Sono Luminus. Notus, a 40-year-old student ensemble from Bloomington, IL, has finally released its first album, Of Radiance And Refraction. Well worth the wait, it is a fascinating assemblage of five world premiere choral works by composers with whom I was completely unfamiliar, including Dominic Diorio, whose Stravinsky Refracted (2015) riffs on Amy Lowell's poem about Stravinsky's Trois pièces pour quatuor á cordes in phantasmagoric fashion. The Zora String Quartet is here to play the original string quartet piece so you know to what Lowell was responding - a wise choice. Diorio also leads Notus and should be commended for bringing polish and passion to the student performances. All the works are of more than passing interest, with John Gibson's In Flight (2015) for chorus and electronics especially substantial. Finally, we have Zealot Canticles by The Crossing, which includes only the title piece by Lansing McLoskey - another name new to me - which is subtitled "An oratorio for tolerance." Written for clarinet, string quartet, and 24-voice choir, the libretto is drawn from 12 Canticles for Zealots, which uses poetry to investigate the minds of fanatics, and other writings by Nobel-Prize-winning Nigerian writer Wole Soyinka. It's dark stuff, but McLoskey's melodic expansiveness and the always extraordinary work of The Crossing, led by Donald Nally, make for a highly absorbing listen.

Chamber Catch-Up: I hesitate to call Peter Garland's The Landscape Scrolls "chamber music," but in this context it will have to do. It could also be filed under "ambient" or "new age" but it doesn't quite fit there either. The album-length work, played to a fare-thee-well by percussionist John Lane, who also commissioned the work, takes us through the cycle of a day by exploring the possibilities of instrumental groupings that are "timbrally monochromatic." My favorite is Part 3: After Dark, which is played on three triangles and creates extraordinary resonances. Sample the piece in this artful trailer for the album. Ken Thomson, the composer and reed player for Bang On A Can and other groups, gave us a modern classic in Restless for cello and piano in 2016. This year, we have something entirely different in Sextet, written for a small ensemble that looks a hell of a lot like a jazz band. The music within is fully composed, however, and harks back to some of the west coast sounds of Shorty Rogers, Jimmy Giuffre, etc. The album begins with a Ligeti piece which harmonically informs the rest of the album the way Thelonious Monk took off from the spiritual Abide With Me on his classic album Monk's Music. This is bright, busy and brainy stuff, played with intensity and swing, and you can't help but be carried along by the sound of one of our most brilliant musical minds following his muse. If you find yourself smiling too broadly after Thomson's cacophony has died down, I give you Michael Hersch's Images From A Closed Ward, played with phenomenal concentration by the FLUX Quartet. Bleak, slow, inexorable and breathtaking, this hour-long piece is a major new contribution to the string quartet repertoire and should put Hersch firmly on your radar.

Upcoming Concerts: 
Tuesday, November 20th, 6:00 PM - Isabel Lepanto Gleicher: Pop Up Concert, in which the flutist will perform a world premiere by Barry Sharp, music by 12th Century mystic Hildegard von Bingen, and everything in between (Miller Theater, 2960 Broadway at 116th St., NYC) Free

Friday, November 30th, 8:00 PM - Talea Ensemble: Soper + Adamcyk, featuring Kate Soper's Voices from the Killing Jar (2012), sung by Lucy Dhegrae, and a world premiere from David Adamcyk (America's Society, 680 Park Ave. at 68th St., NYC) Free with RSVP

Saturday, December 1st, 8:00 PM - Hotel Elefant: Letters That You Will Not Get, featuring a world premiere by Kirsten Volness and special guests Opera Cowgirls (Church of the Intercession, 550 W 155th St., NYC) $20 at the door

Full disclosure: I'm on the board of both Talea Ensemble and Hotel Elefant, but I would be ride-or-die for both groups either way!

Tracks from the albums mentioned above and so many more from this amazing year can be found in this playlist. As always, tell me what's grabbing YOU. Also, if you like the anthology format of this post, let me know.

You may also enjoy:
Three Portraits: Cheung-Trapani-Du Yun
Record Roundup: Avant Chamber And Orchestral
Record Roundup: Electro-Acoustic Explorations
Best Of 2017: Classical
Record Roundup: On The Cutting Edge
A Nordic Night At National Sawdust
Collapsing Into Nordic Affect's Raindamage
Best Of 2016: Classical
Record Roundup: Composed, Commemorated And Beyond
Record Roundup: Classical Composure

Three Portraits: Cheung-Trapani-Du Yun

Albums by ensembles featuring multiple composers are a great way to focus on a group’s skills, both as curators and players. But the “portrait album” is another thing, giving listeners a valuable opportunity to focus on a range of works by one artist. Here are three of the best from recent months. 

Anthony Cheung - Cycles and Arrows One common criticism of post-modernism when it first became widely known in the 80’s was that it was a movement based on superficialities. For example, when an architect used some vestige of a Greek column in their work it was just there because it looked good or called up certain associations. There was seemingly no reference or understanding about why the ancients might have developed such a form or what mathematical principles lay behind its visual perfection. 

The music of Anthony Cheung is a firm rebuttal to that line of thinking. When you read his program notes for this, his third portrait album, you quickly realize that any echo of past forms or other compositions comes from a place of deep scholarship and musical understanding. Combined with a sureness of orchestration that feels natural and intuitive but is surely the product of much study and experimentation, the result is a delightful array of compositions from the last five years. Take the opening work, written for flute and string quartet and cheekily entitled The Real Book Of Fake Tunes. Over five short movements, the dialogue between the players unfurls with such wit and elegance you almost forget there are five people working together to produce the sounds. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the players are the genius flautist Claire Chase and the excellent Spektral Quartet, who also appear on the angular Bagatelles with pianist Winston Choi. 

So it goes throughout the album, whether combining Chinese instruments with Western ones in More Marginalia (played by the astonishing Atlas Ensemble) or composing for solo oboe in Après Une Lecture, which is cleverly based on notated speech patterns Cheung saw in the notebooks of Leos Janacek and played to perfection by Ernest Rombaut. The International Contemporary Ensemble appears on two pieces, the swaggering Assumed Roles with violist Maiya Papach, and Times Vestiges, which ends the album with a sense of unresolved mystery, like a flashlight’s beam being swallowed by tunnel. Cycles And Arrows is, like Dystemporal from 2016, further proof that Cheung is one of the finest composers of our time. 

Christopher Trapani - Waterlines While it’s usually terrible when visa problems derail a concert, it was actually to my benefit when Talea Ensemble had to shift gears for their slot at last month’s Resonant Bodies festival. Instead of playing a world premiere by a European composer, the group decided to revisit Trapani’s Waterlines. As a board member of Talea, I saw this happening in real time but still had no idea what to expect as I had missed a previous performance of the piece. 

“Home is the pull of a tonic chord,” Trapani writes in his liner notes for Waterlines, “Home is the warm glow of consonance, radiating through a hissing layer of noise.” He then goes on to describe the gestation of the piece, from being in Paris and watching Katrina hit his home city, to seeking solace in the old country and Delta blues records that animate this five-song cycle, especially ones about the great flood of 1927, to finding parallels between those old shellacs and the spectral music of Gerard Grisey and others.

I felt that pull and warmth right from the first strummed dulcimer chords that open the first song, Can’t Feel At Home, a feeling that only increased when Lucy Dhegrae began singing with the perfect combination of real feeling, theatricality and classical control. Waterlines brought me back to the first time I heard Barstow by Harry Partch, to that feeling like it had been with me all my life. All five songs in Waterlines were riveting and I marveled at the fractured vernacular, the lean orchestration, which has a few unusual instruments (fretless Turkish banjo) but no gimmicks, the quotes from Mahler and others that somehow fit just right...before it was over I knew I was in the presence of an instant classic. Dhegrae was fantastic throughout and Talea's playing, led by conductor James Baker, was intricate, powerful, and immaculately balanced. And now we have this recording featuring the same forces and I cannot recommend it highly enough.

There are four other excellent works here as well. Passing Through, Staying Put is a tart piano trio stylishly played by Longleash, who put such a stamp of greatness on Scott Wollschleger's Soft Aberration last year. The JACK Quartet takes on Visions And Revisions, elucidating its harmonic and melodic ties to Dylan's Visions Of Johanna with what sounds like great affinity for the music. There's further magic in the way Marilyn Nonken's sparkling piano in The Silence Falling Star Lights Up A Purple Sky segues into the final work, Cognitive Consonance.

The longest piece on the album, it consists of two long movements for stringed instruments bookending a brief electronic interlude. Talea Ensemble also contributes here and the electronics were crafted at IRCAM, the electronic music incubator founded by Pierre Boulez. The first part, Disorientation, uses a specially modified qanun (a kind of zither), played with extraordinary facility by Didem Basar, to explore a tactile landscape of immersive microtonality. I hung on every pluck and sweep of the strings, taking great pleasure from the way they interacted with the electronic textures. The second part, Westering, is played by Trapani himself on a hexaphonic electric guitar, which has transposition controls for each string, each of which is amplified by its own pickup, allowing for great control of pitch, timbre, etc. But you won't need to think about any of that as you listen - just enjoy the journey, which has no shortage of mystery.

While Trapani's music has been played by many distinguished performers over the years, and included on some fine albums, Waterlines is the first album devoted solely to his work and its display of his scholarship, emotional depth and originality could not be more successful or musically satisfying. I can only imagine what he will do next.

Du Yun - Dinosaur Scar I'm one of those slightly clueless types who actually needed Du Yun to win the Pulitzer Prize (as she did last year for Angel's Bone, her second opera) for me to become fully aware of her music. Seeing her furious concentration as a performer at the MATA Festival last spring was only a reiteration of her talents. Now we have this album, which is probably the most complete overview of her shorter works to date. I could be churlish and point out that six of the ten tracks have been in the can since 2009 - almost a decade, which is far too long for an artist as protean as Du Yun. 

But there are many wonders within Dinosaur Scar, such as Air Glow, which combines five brass players with electric guitar and bass for a sinuous, atmospheric experience that goes on for nearly 11 glorious minutes. The performers are all from the International Contemporary Ensemble, a testament to their 20-year working relationship with Du Yun and an assurance that they are all at the top of their field. Special note must by paid to guitarist Dan Lippel, whose does stunning work all over the record. Claire Chase is also here and in full effect on Run in a Graveyard, which she first included on her debut solo album in 2011. Pitting her alto flute against Du Yun's gnarly electronics creates a unique blend indeed, its strong narrative drive keeping you in suspense throughout.

The title track is the oldest piece, written for solo saxophone in 1999 when Du Yun was a sophomore in college, and played like it was hot off the sheet music by Ryan Muncy. This well-rounded collection also includes two scintillating improvisations, one which features Du Yun on kazoo, toy harmonica and phone, showing her humor. The electrifying and episodic by, of...Lethean ends the album, effectively soundtracking a movie I made up in my mind as I listened. What stories will Du Yun tell you? 

P.S. A number of the works on Dinosaur Scar will be performed as part of Du Yun's Composer Portrait at the Miller Theater on November 15th. Perhaps I will see you there!

Find tracks from all of these albums and other notable classical releases from 2018 in this playlist - and, as always, tell me what I'm missing.

You may also enjoy:
Record Roundup: Electronic Excursions
Record Roundup: Avant Chamber And Orchestral
MATA's Bad Romance At The Kitchen
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Best Of 2017: Classical

MATA's Bad Romance At The Kitchen

This year saw the 20th Anniversary of the MATA Festival, which puts on new music concerts around the city for three weeks every spring. Founded by Philip Glass, Eleanor Sandresky and Lisa Bielawa, Music At The Anthology seeks to promote the work of unaffiliated composers, presenting a highly curated selection drawn from hundreds of entires. Time and circumstance have prevented me from ever attending even one of their shows, although I jealously kept up with reviews and press releases. This year, those same factors made it possible for me to attend one of the concerts at The Kitchen, which had the attention-grabbing name Bad Romance.

It was also my first time at the current location of The  Kitchen, a legendary performance art space last incarnated in SoHo. One of my favorite memories of the astonishing rise of the Beastie Boys was when they played a set there as a hardcore band. Because we were young and snotty, we saw it as a moment of epater le bourgeoisie and we laughed about it for a long time. There was nothing funny about seeing Steve Reich’s Different Trains there, however, although it was equally unforgettable. The new space, a large black box with extremely high ceilings, is certainly flexible enough to put on any show along the continuum mapped by those two concerts. It was also perfect for this MATA concert as several of the pieces we saw had strong theatrical elements.

Piano Six Hands

The first was Aaron Graham’s Old Voltage for piano six hands, which had Miki Sawada and Paul Kerekes on the outside of the bench hammering away like a Conlon Nancarrow piece for player piano while Isabelle O’Connell, sitting in the middle, played lyrical, almost romantic, melodies infused with tango rhythms while delivering a spoken word monologue about "hallucinations, crowds, dances, memories and lovers." The contrast between O'Connell's part and the others was increased by the way Graham has prepared the piano to dull the sound of the upper and lower registers. Beyond the curiosity value, there was power and beauty to spare in the music, which was composed in 2015 and made its American premiere at MATA. 

Jenny Hettne‘s While She Was Dreaming for violin and and tape was also an American premiere. Performed with dazzling confidence by Pauline Kim Harris, its combination of glitchy sonics with a violin part that ranged from dense bursts to folkish simplicity added up to a work I would like to hear again - stat. Hopefully this performance will lead to more of this Swedish composer's work being heard in the city, as it seems to be a fairly rare occurrence. 

Garapic, Rogers & Evans Playing Light-On-Light

Saxophonist Erin Rogers led the performance of her own Light-On-Light, which was a world premiere and commissioned by MATA. It was full of humor and ideas, including the use of saxophones and other items as percussion instruments, gamely played by Matthew Evans and Amy Garapic. Perhaps she was partly inspired by David Van Tieghem, who used his drumsticks to convert literally everything into an instrument. Her own part was full of clicks and breaths, prompting me to ask my friend if he thought anyone else could perform it. He wisely responded that it would depend entirely on the notation, which is true for any set of extended techniques. Either way, it was a wild ride. Rogers's work for guitar and soprano, The Lone Tenement, will be performed twice in New York this month. Make a plan.

Two Pianists Below, Many Samurai Above

The visual element in Chris Perren’s Samurai Loops, conceived as it was for video and two pianos, was among the strongest of the night. The projection took a scene of two friends in mortal combat from Masaki Kobayashi’s 1967 film Samurai Rebellion, at first looping the movements of Toshiro Mifune and Tatsuya Nakadai so they began to resemble dancers instead of warriors. Just as I was settling into that concept, the images exploded into repeating patterns, with dozens of samurai now moving in concert on the screen. Even more dazzling was the rhythmic acuity, as the music matched each clash of the swords. Not so easy, as O'Connell confirmed after the show. While she and Sawada were able to use the electronic sounds to help them stay on track, they couldn't really see the screen while they performed. The music, while adjacent to minimalism, could also be lushly melancholic, with sweeping melodies that interacted well with the macho romance of the imagery. Perren, from Australia, also performs with Nonsemble and Mr. Maps, among other things. Watch Samurai Loops and then explore his world if you're as captivated as I am.

Charlotte Mundy In Basic Black

The second half of the night began with Steven Whiteley’s [      ] [    ] [  ] [ ] [] (yes, that’s the title!) for soprano and electronics. The piece convincingly explored the relationship of syllables and words to gestures and to the sonic environment. Some of the repetitive, quotidian phrases ("Darling you're so...") made me think of Scott Johnson's work using language. It may sound cerebral in a description but this was gripping stuff with a stunning performance by Charlotte Mundy, who embodied her demanding role completely, including some haunting (and virtuoso) laughter. I was already a fan of hers thanks to her great work on Ecstatic Music, the 2016 album by TAK Ensemble so I am glad I had the opportunity to see her on stage. Her website is sorely out of date, but if you follow Ekmeles, the vocal ensemble to which she belongs (or TAK), you're sure to be able to catch her. 

El-Ansary (left) Acknowledges The Applause

The penultimate work was by Bahaa El-Ansary, a young Egyptian composer who has been causing a stir in new music circles. This is not only due to the fact that there are fewer known composers from that region, but also because of the sheer emotional power and command of structure displayed by his work. Nightmare for guitar, violin and viola was a perfect example, with the trio’s forces marshaled with great economy and style. Dan Lippel’s acoustic guitar virtuosity deserves special mention, while Harris on violin and Carrie Frey on viola certainly had no trouble keeping up. As far as I can tell this was the first performance in New York, and only the second in the US, of any work by Al-Ansary. Programmers should explore his website, which is full of striking music, such as Lost, composed for harp and 30 cellos. That's not a combination you see - or hear every day!

Ken Ueno’s ‘Tard, another MATA commission, was wisely placed last on the program. Like Hendrix at Monterey, no one would have wanted to follow it. For this world premiere performance, Ueno was joined by the outgoing Artistic Director of MATA, Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Du Yun, on vocals, along with Evans and Garapic on percussion. Each of them had an enormous bass drum, which were visual statements in their own right. Ueno and Du were both wearing whimsical garments (pants on the former and a shirt for the latter) made of multicolored puff balls, which were the only hints of levity in this bleak and searing piece. Unless, that is, unless you count the listing on Ueno's website, which credits him as "non-breather" and Du as "screamer." Those descriptions became clear shortly after Ueno took his place at a table set with a glass bowl filled with water and a small towel.

As soon as Evans and Garapic began wailing on their massive drums, creating an equally massive sound, Ueno bent at his waist and put his face in the bowl of water. He remained there for at least two minutes as Yun vocalized in composed agony. She and the drummers continued when Ueno pulled out of the water and stood silently glaring at the audience with what seemed to be barely controlled fury. The only let up in intensity was when Evans and Garapic switched from the drums to striking metal water bottles together, creating a sound not unlike the cloud chamber bowls David Byrne used in parts of his score for the Catherine Wheel. According to the program notes, presented as an email exchange between Ueno and MATA Executive Director Todd Tarantino, the original conception included contact mics on the bowl and a camera under it so the composer’s submerged face could be projected. Intriguing thoughts (“Hmmm” was Tarantino’s entire response) but it’s hard to imagine those bells and whistles making the work substantially more effective. 

Ueno Glaring, Du Screaming

As seen at The Kitchen, ‘Tard is a brilliantly enigmatic piece that asked more questions than it answered. That title, for one. Was it short for the repulsive neologism “libtard”? Or the scarcely less awful “retard”? Nothing good, that seems certain. And was the rage directed at us? Or a reflection of our own anger? Or just good theater? This was par for the course for an evening filled with works that seemed to explore the firewall where intellect and instinct collide. Kudos to MATA for bringing this important music to light. I can only imagine what I missed over the rest of the festival, not to mention the last 20 years!

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