How does even
a ‘cutting-edge’ contemporary music ensemble like the London
Sinfonietta re-invent itself, stay trendy, flash da bling?
Answer – much in the same way as ‘modern classical’ composers
are programmed with dead favourites – if they’re lucky: chose
some ‘with-it’ electronic performers and programme them with
still-alive or generally acknowledged modern masters. This
is something of the idea behind the London Sinfonietta/Warp
concerts which started in March 2003. ‘Not a crossover’ as
stated in the press release is right, with most of the hip
stuff having been arranged to be playable by the London Sinfonietta.
Like some of the Kronos Quartet versions of rock tracks these
seem to be fairly straight ‘orchestrations’ and thank goodness
without any of those hideously embarrassing attempts to front
classical musicians with scratching DJs or rappers. This double
CD set comes in a folding cardboard sleeve with minimal notes
– my source of information on the younger names came with
the aforementioned press release, instantly revealing my lack
of hipness.
Aphex Twin is
the pseudonym of Richard D. James. In the opening works the
piano is ‘prepared’ by placing a chain over the strings. This
sound invites direct comparison with the Cage Sonatas &
Interludes elsewhere on these discs, but the chains introduce
little more than unpleasant distortion to otherwise fairly
new-age sounding keyboard musings which float around the middle
of the keyboard, offering little more than pleasant diversion.
Conlon Nancarrow’s
Study no. 7 has been given the full works by its arranger,
who uncompromisingly throws all kinds of superb effects into
what was originally designed for player-piano. This introduction
of the human element into ‘Machine Music’ (one of the sub-themes
of this set) works on many levels. The very act of transcribing
such a piece for ensemble takes it away from its mechanical
origins, and the quirky joy of hearing the stumbling rhythms
being punched away in the background by pizzicato strings,
harpsichord or piano while winds and brass take on the arching
polyphonies and fragmented tunes make this an instrumental
tour-de-force. This piece is by far the longest of the early
studies, and the only one approaching a recognisable Sonata
form.
Nancarrow is like
a J.S. Bach for our times – like the ‘48’ you can imagine
many of his studies sounding good on almost anything – the
‘playable’ ones, that is.
John Cage’s Sonatas
& Interludes for prepared piano are deeply researched
studies into the sonic possibilities of the piano, and live
or die by the complex interaction between instrument, assorted
alien objects and player. These performances are all superbly
recorded and performed, with all of the funky rhythmic splendour
and exotic colour nuances coming through. His First Construction
in Metal is based largely on percussive effects played
on a wide variety of objects, from pianos to anvils via what
sounds like an entire kitchen’s worth of pots and pans. There
are some nice glissando effects – done by dipping your piece
of metal in a bucket of water – but while we can but admire
the pioneering spirit at work the reasons for resurrecting
this kind of piece are arguable.
In my experience
Steve Reich’s Violin Phase comes over better live than
on recordings, with the spatial relationship between players
and speakers often making for a fascinating and dramatic audio
experience. Compared to other versions this performance doesn’t
quite hack it – the tempo relationship between player and
phase sometimes too inaccurate to create the correct groove,
the recording balance too ‘in your face’ to allow the lines
to mix and blend. The tempo seems just a fraction too slow,
and while the middle section settles down nicely enough there
are enough raggedy bits to have you reaching for your Shem
Guibbory version (ECM 1168). Never mind, this is live music,
and there aren’t many violinists let alone listeners who know
how extremely difficult this piece is to play! Six
Marimbas on disc two goes better, but as the kind of percussionists
staple diet it has become this is to be expected.
Squarepusher is
the pseudonym of Tom Jenkinson. The Tide has a compulsive
rhythmic drive pushed forward by crescendi from winds and
brass, low grunting from contrafagot and bass clarinet, and
trills and thudding from strings and piano. It has the kind
of organised/improvisatory jazziness that Berio achieved,
but without the clearly defined harmonic interest, although
there would appear to be a kind of tonal arch in there somewhere.
His Conc 2 Symmetriac has been treated to some nicely
chilling bowed-percussion sounds, and would make a good soundtrack
to a horror film preview.
Aphex Twin’s AFX237
V7 is altogether more substantial than the Prepared
Piano Pieces though a little similar in effect to Squarepusher’s
The Tide with those grunting low winds being put in
to cover for bass-lead sounds – there are only so many ways
of rendering some kinds of electronic sound playable on conventional
instruments. This piece has a lighter, more Charleston feel
to The Tide however. Polygon Window is the pop-finale
to this set, opening with slinky figures over a sizzle cymbal,
and thence building over a driving drum beat to a smashing
finale, via a remarkable snare drum section.
Karlheinz Stockhausen’s
Spiral uses a shortwave radio ‘to tune into sounds
from beyond the stars.’ The resulting cosmic interference
is commented upon by a saxophone played through an echo relay
which enhances the spatial space-effect, and builds to allow
parallel chords and Don Ellis style echo-canons from the instrument.
There are some spectacular monodic electronic filigrees and
some nice Jan Garbarek turns of phrase later in the piece,
but I can imagine many listeners being able to ‘take it, or
leave it alone’.
Edgard Varèse’s
Ionisation is scored almost entirely for unpitched
percussion instruments, and explores the use the resonant
qualities of the instruments to develop rhythmic cells in
a complex interplay. Sirens and chiming bells toward the end
of the piece turn the piece into a kind of sound poem, and
it receives a feisty performance on this CD.
Ligeti’s Chamber Concerto is a 20th century classic by
any standard, and any performance of such a work by this standard
of ensemble has to be of interest. This was the slimmed down
chamber version of some of the already recognised Ligeti sonic
fingerprints which had been introduced in the Cello Concerto
and ‘Lontano’, with intensely mobile or atmospheric sound-effects,
and hyper-extended harmonic resolutions and climaxes. The
London Sinfonietta’s performance is good as may be expected,
but the recorded balance throws up a few strange perspectives
and there are some notable consumptives in the audience.
These concerts sound like they were great fun, and all concerned are to be
commended on some adventurous programming. Ultimately however,
it is almost inevitable that putting contemporary ‘experimental’
musician’s work up against 20th century classics
just serves to show how far we yet have to go in order to
achieve those standards of the past, let alone surpass them
– especially when such work is taken out of context and orchestrated
for conventional instruments, putting it in direct competition
with composers whose background and aesthetic ethics inhabit
an entirely different world to today. I don’t want to be negative,
but I can almost guarantee that the works which will live
on in your memory will be those by the established names of
Cage, Nancarrow and Ligeti. As live recordings these performances
have plenty of the raw energy one would hope for, and as such
both discs offer something beyond the ordinary – which is
what you want, isn’t it?
Dominy
Clements
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