SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

The Irish American -  Fatal Optimists and The Music of Morton Feldman: CoMA London Ensemble, CoMA Voices, The Smith Quartet, John Tilbury – piano, Kings Place, London 23.4.2010 (GDn)

Ed Bennett’s My Broken Machines

Donnacha Dennehy A Fatal Optimist

Jennifer Walshe he was she

David Coonan Strange Set

Stephen Montague Chorale for the Cauldrons of Hell

Morton Feldman For John Cage, Piano and String Quartet


Contemporary music for amateur players? On paper it seems like a charitable enterprise at best, but the CoMA Ensemble demonstrate that this need not be the case. Their ‘Open Score’ commissioning project has delivered a series of works that make no musical compromises in the cause of inclusivity. Commissions tend to emphasise flexible instrumentation (a practicality that offended few Renaissance composers), but beyond that no significant concessions are made.

None of the composers in this programme succumbed to the temptation to write music that sounds harder to play than it is. There was no aleatory writing, no asynchronicity, no pre-recorded orchestral backings. Every work was constructed with a deep respect for the musical talents of its players. The results speak for themselves; deeply committed performances by players who were clearly stretched at times, but who rose magnificently to the multiple and varied musical challenges.

Every composer bar one (Stephen Montague) is Irish, and many of the works demonstrated the immense influence of the American avant-garde on Irish new music in recent decades. So minimalism is a strong force, as are the cultural repercussions of the Cage/Cunningham/Rauschenberg Black Mountain ‘happenings’. Even Cathy Berberian made her presence felt. And why not? British tastes have traditionally favoured the European avant-garde, so a reminder from the Irish of cultural trends across the pond is both welcome and timely.

Ed Bennett’s My Broken Machines is scored for three melody instruments (two high, one low), piano and percussion. For this performance, the line-up was clarinet, oboe, muted tenor horn, piano and a percussionist playing two tenor drums and what looked like the rim of a truck wheel. Durations are indeterminate, but ensemble is critical. Morton Feldman (more about him later) is evoked in the bare, dissonant dyads in the clarinet and oboe, while Cage’s obsession with contrasting resonating materials comes through in the percussionist’s starkly delineated timbres. There are plenty of clusters (fists? elbows?) in the piano part, but they conform to subtle and variegated dynamics. It is a powerful and percussive work, but infused throughout with light and shade.

A Fatal Optimist, by Donnacha Dennehy is a work for large ensemble, made up of a few contrapuntal lines, doubled in octaves throughout the group and accompanied by evocative percussion and electronics. Bang on a Can type industrial grime plays a part here, as does the hard-edged minimalism of Louis Andriessen. In fact, the work could be heard as an amateur version of his seminal De Staat, echoing its clear linear counterpoint, metallic percussion and prominent piano.

Jennifer Walshe is the Cathy Berbarian of the group. he was she was is a work based, as the composer writes, on ‘sounds we normally consider normal or redundant’ breaking twigs is the most striking effect, the variety of sizes no doubt specified in the score. Breathing into, and then loudly discarding, a paper bag is another striking effect. The players recite a text over (or possibly under) all of this, making clear that the absurdity of the spectacle is entirely deliberate.

David Coonan is perhaps the most traditional of the composers represented. His Strange Set is another work for large ensemble. His programme note mentions The Rite of Spring, and like Stravinsky he writes music motivated by the propulsion of complex cross rhythms. I’m not sure what the instrumental specifications are in this score, but the fruity baritone sax at the back on the ensemble was the ideal medium for this propulsive force.

If A Fatal Optimist is the amateur performer’s version of De Staat, the Stephen Montague’s Chorale for the Cauldrons of Hell is their answer to Ligeti’s Requiem. Like Ligeti’s masterpiece, the work is choral and relies on the close interaction of voices and instruments. The choir (CoMA Voices) perform a range of close harmonies and clusters, and like Ligeti, Montague facilitates this process by doubling each of their entries in the strings. The chromatic, clustered, almost micropolyphonic results would be impressive from a professional choir, but in this context are little short of incredible. Montague has worked closely with CoMA for many years, and his knowledge of their strengths has paid off handsomely. The work was inspired by a visit to Auschwitz, and after this Ligetiesque opening, the orchestra kick in with more turbulent music. It all added up to a moving, if (Grandly) macabre conclusion to the concert. It is clear from the programme that the ensemble take great pride in this work. It is perhaps a little too morbid to become their signature piece, but it is still a staggering showcase for their combined musical talents.

The following late night concert presented Morton Feldman’s For John Cage, Piano and String Quartet, not from amateur players this time, but from the elite of the avant-garde profession: the Smith Quartet and John Tilbury. Even by Feldman’s standards this is a radically minimalist work. Its musical materials are basic: piano arpeggios and muted tutti chords from the strings. The designation ‘piano and string quartet’ (rather than piano quintet) is entirely appropriate, as the piano remains independent of the strings throughout. Its music has a similar atmosphere and pace, but it never makes any attempt to integrate. It was a fine performance, evenly and patiently paced throughout its 100 or so minute duration. A special mention should go to John Tilbury, who is in the process of becoming one the last living links with the first phase of musical minimalism. His playing retains all its clarity and urgency of purpose, infusing each arpeggio with a refracted, crystalline beauty. And all this without ever rising above a piano dynamic. Sublime.

Gavin Dixon