"In Absentia" -- Film
by The Brothers Quay, music by Karlheinz Stockhausen
Helmut Lachenmann: Pression
Kirk Noreen: The Magician
Wolfgang Rihm: Am Horizont
Magnus Lindberg: Ablauf
György Ligeti: L’Escalier du Diable
"The Kiss" -- Film by Joshua Cody and
Paul Bozymowski, music by Joshua Cody
Harrison Birtwistle: La Plage
John Cage: 4’33"
Joshua Cody: Adytum
Jeff Sugg, production designer
Miranda Hardy, lighting designer
Shu, technical designer
Robert Weiss, live videographer
Jon Okabayashi, production consultant
Kevin McMahon, sound designer
John Francis, set designer
Joshua Cody and Kirk Noreen, production
How do we listen to music? What do we visualize
while we are doing it? How might we listen to music? These and
a flood of other questions were raised in a fascinating, often riveting
experiment devised by the Ensemble Sospeso, marking five years of provocative
concerts in New York. Titled Moving Pictures and Illustrated Songs,
the evening was envisioned as a continuous piece in ten parts, with
each leading immediately into the next. The only separations between
them were brief texts projected onscreen above the performers, who were
alternately hidden from view and revealed by screens.
One could hardly imagine a more startling beginning
than anything by the Quay Brothers, two brilliant animators originally
from Philadelphia who now work in London. Their claustrophobic visions
inhabit a world of gaseous, decrepit landscapes, often populated by
dolls (or parts of them), armies of rolling nails or screws, or as in
this case, extreme close-ups of the hands of a woman repeatedly trying
to write a letter, while battalions of pencil tips shuttle across the
floor. Coupled with the haunting Stockhausen score, this short film
conjures up a grayish, straitjacketed nightmare, and is dedicated to
a woman identified only as "E.H.," who lived and wrote to
her husband from an asylum.
Then came Helmut Lachenmann’s Pression,
a spare collection of scratches and other tiny sounds, acutely delivered
by Chris Finckel, while videographer Robert Weiss captured, processed
and then projected his movements onscreen, all in real time. This was
followed immediately by Noreen’s The Magician, an eerie work
that began with sensuous, quiet breathing by the peerless accordionist
William Schimmel. I liked the Rihm, also beautifully played, and then
came Lindberg’s striking Ablauf with a clarinet line punctuated
by shocking, almost painful bass drum outbursts by two percussionists,
here positioned upstairs in the balconies. Clarinetist Anthony Burr
and percussionists David Shively and Thomas Kolor only heightened the
work’s inherent primal energy.
Ligeti’s L’Escalier du Diable comes from
his second book of Etudes (1985), and is horrifyingly intricate,
with torrents of scales in seeming perpetual motion. Just when the pianist
reaches the summit of the keyboard, the entire mad, exciting process
seems to begin all over again. Despite the increasing popularity of
these studies -- and this is one of the most difficult -- few pianists
can tackle them with the steely concentration and force shown here by
Stephen Gosling.
Joshua Cody and Paul Bozymowski’s film, The
Kiss, begins with an account of structural problems in the Citicorp
building in the 1970’s, but eventually reveals itself as a discreet
meditation on September 11, 2001. The film’s many haunting scenes, particularly
of aircraft silently crossing the screen and seeming to disappear into
buildings, seem to prey on our still-fresh underlying anxieties. Just
when I thought I might have reached the limit of 9/11 reflections, I
found myself musing on that day of loss from yet one more angle.
The Birtwistle, fine as it was and anchored by
some elegantly precise singing by Lucy Shelton, seemed somehow overwhelmed
by the time it appeared, although the performance itself was excellent.
Conductor Matthew Cody led a witty version of the Cage, including a
"Rondo" section that had several in the audience tittering,
and also led the final piece, Joshua Cody’s imaginative Adytum
for chamber ensemble, including taped sounds of audience applause and
laughter.
It must be said that the evening was just too
long, despite the bold, insightful structure and high quality of the
performances. For an array of intense, challenging modernist works lasting
almost two-and-a-half hours with no intermission, there were problems
of focus and pacing that weren’t entirely solved. I would whittle the
(admittedly impressive) list of pieces down to six or eight, if only
to ensure that an audience is better able to assimilate what they are
seeing and hearing. By the time the last film began, I was already anticipating
the end of the evening -- not because of the film itself, but because
my ability to focus was waning. Nevertheless, it is clear that the group
is thinking in ways that few groups do, and exploring how music, visual
arts and words can be combined in ways that reinvent, re-examine and
comment on each other.
The Orensanz Center, an unusual addition to the
New York concert scene in recent years, proved to be a close-to-ideal
venue. Originally built as a synagogue, its craggy, neo-Gothic, slightly
dilapidated interior has been left intact, with the upper echelons lit
with blue neon and ultraviolet light.
Bruce Hodges
(The writer is on the board
of directors of the Ensemble Sospeso. Still photographs from "The
Kiss" can be seen at http://www.sospeso.com/.)