An Event, Not a Concert

Hallo alle!

This is my very first entry on my very first blog.  Fact: I am a little intimidated.  

Moving on.  My goal in writing entries for this blog is to promote the circulation of New Music in and around the exquisite city of Chicago (and perhaps share something of myself as a musician with you all in the process).  This may come in the form of discussions about pieces I am working on, thoughts, opinions, rants/raves about musicians I'm currently digging on, recaps, reviews, and my impressions on new music performances around the city.  

In this first entry, I will relate my experience at Ensemble Dal Niente's event/experience (this was NOT a concert) "The Party", which took place on May 12.  My interest in attending “The Party” actualized on a regular day at DePaul, about a week before the event. I was making a routine and mundane sojourn to the computer lab when suddenly, coming from my good friend and esteemed mentor, Michael Lewanski's office, emanated a dramatically strange and captivating sound.  My ear's first analysis of the sound told my subconscious that it had to be either a fantastically executed bass clarinet multiphonic, or some sort of alien lawnmower.  I've never been known to exclude adventurous possibilities, and curiosity demanded that I take a chance and open the door.  To both my pleasure and disappointment, it was in fact a bass clarinet.  Michael, who was conducting a trio of alto flute, oboe and bass clarinet, accurately interpreted the look on my face and said only one word - "Sciarrino".  Ah yes, of course.  He was obviously referring to Salvatore Sciarrino, the magnificent Italian composer famous for his use of extended techniques.  Michael afterward explained to me the nature of “The Party” and extended an invitation to me.  

 Uh…YES.

 “The Party” was primarily under the musical direction of the dynamic pianist and conductor, Marino Formenti.  From 6pm until midnight, attendees were alternately treated to bold, cutting edge music, food and...soda.  When I say food, I don't mean greasy, salty MusicNow pizza.  This was classy and well-coordinated.  The sizable program booklet explained to the attendee, for example, exactly why the spicy smoked red snapper, coconut, cream cheese, toasted bagels were served following music by Mauricio Kagel and Northwestern composer Pablo Chin:

"Works by Kagel and Chin contain the sense of composers':

Provenance - a melting of cultures through sound.  This offering follows a parallel inspiration.  Kagel's Bagels and Pablo's Pescado.  The NYC Deli meets the Chicago Taqueria."    

 Make of that what you will, the food rocked.

 (Voice in my head):  "Max, talk about the music!"

(Me): "Oh, right."

 I was only able to attend the mid-section of The Party.  In the three or so hours I was there, I received quite a satisfying overload of musical information.  Of the many outstanding pieces I heard performed that night, I will focus only on two.  Both of them were for solo percussion instrument.  No, I really mean solo - one percussion instrument for the entire piece.  Not pitched percussion, either.  

The first is James Tenney's "Having Never Written a Note for Percussion" for solo tamtam (or any other percussion instrument).  This piece was essentially just a gigantic hairpin crescendo/decrescendo.  The duration is supposed to be anywhere from 8 to 20 minutes.  I'd put this performance at about nine minutes, but by no means was I watching a clock.  From the inaudible opening, to the quadruple forte middle, to the once again nearly inaudible ending, the percussionist had the audience riveted.  Hans Thomalla, eminent composer in his own right and professor of composition at Northwestern, cupped his ear for the first and last few minutes of the piece, seemingly in an attempt to assimilate every serif of musical value possibly available.  I would love to credit the percussionist, but no individual names were mentioned in the program.  Because of his dynamic performance, I can now pass on from this life knowing what a ffff tamtam sounds like.  Many thanks, sir.

The title for the next piece is wonderfully ironic - "A Silver Streetcar for the Orchestra".  The piece is for solo amplified triangle and was written by one of America's great living composers, Alvin Lucier.  The performer is instructed to strike the triangle in a repeated fashion throughout the piece while changing only the position of his/her thumb and forefinger and striking it in different locations.  This produces quite an abundance of varying tone colors over the 15 minute duration of the piece.  A few of the changes in finger position were so distinct to my ear, I almost want to say I heard a little “wah-wah” in there.  I'm quite a big fan of “wah-wah” effects myself.  Atta’ boy, Lucier.  Atta’ boy, unnamed percussionist.

My busy schedule necessitated my early departure soon afterward, but I did get to stick around for the alien lawnmower Sciarrino trio, "Muro d'Orrizonte".  Fabulous.  And weird.