Soundboard

Apt Quote from an Economist

2011-09-08T14:50:00.000-04:00

“Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius – and a lot of courage – to move in the opposite direction.”
E.F. Schumacher

Seamus Cater, Viljam Nybacka, and Fritz Welch

2011-07-29T23:31:00.001-04:00

Came across these videos and really enjoyed them. Dreamy, noisy, spacious, folky goodness. Enjoy.

Tangent

2011-02-28T17:57:00.002-05:00

Another creation between Evan Mazunik and myself.

Tangent (Nathan Pape & Evan Mazunik) by Nathan Alexander Pape

Over the River, Through the Woods

2011-01-09T18:14:00.000-05:00

Evan Mazunik and I had a fruitful afternoon yesterday. Hope you enjoy.

Over the River, Through the Woods (Nathan Pape & Evan Mazunik) by Nathan Alexander Pape

There is more music from yesterday posted on my Soundcloud page.

Pare This Down to Something

2010-12-30T15:47:00.001-05:00

It is a typical and logical view to see the composer as creator, the one who makes something from nothing – fills the void that was with content, knowledge, purpose. This model lends itself to the soundscape of old, the silent vastness of the farmland where true reflection can be done. The romantic ideal of the isolated genius only immersed in their own thoughts and creations, the outside world is not permitted into this process.

The practitioners of music now, and the listeners as well, are mostly surrounded by the opposite. The loud abrasive city is all around, even in solitude it is heard. The noise of media, advertisements, promotion – even the imagery is noisy. All of this noise is the potential. With all sound as music, music making is no longer creating but editing. No longer is something coming out of nothing. The potential for anything is always present. Even to carry on a tradition is to scrape away to reveal a form. There is the potential for everything, but we look for those that pare this down to something of seeming purpose.

Okkyung Lee video

2010-12-21T12:45:00.000-05:00

Thought I'd share this.

Economics and Culture

2010-12-20T22:18:00.000-05:00

I'm greatly interested in the influence that economic environments have on cultural stimulation. Naomi Klein has a very insightful point concerning the dependence of cultural institutions on the free labor of interns. This is from her book No Logo.

One thing you can say about the retail and service industries: at least they pay their workers a little something for their trouble. Not so for some other industries that have liberated themselves from the chains of social-security forms with such free-market gusto that many young workers receive no pay from them at all. Perhaps predictably, the culture industry has led the way in the blossoming of unpaid work, blithely turning a blind eye to the unglamorous fact that many people under thirty are saddled with the mundane responsibility of actually having to support themselves.

Writing about his former job, which involved hiring unpaid interns to send faxes and run errands for Men's Journal magazine, Jim Frederick notes that many of his applicants had already worked for nothing at Interview, CBS News, MTV, The Village Voice and so on. "'Very impressive,' I would say. By my quick calculations they had contributed, conservatively, five or six thousand dollars' worth of uncompensated work to various media conglomerates." Of course, the media conglomerates – the broadcasters, magazines, and book publishers – insist that they are generously offering young people precious experience in a hard employment market – a foot in the door on the old-fashioned "apprenticeship" model. Besides, they say, sounding suspiciously like McDonald's managers the world over, the interns are just kids – they don't really need the money.

And getting two "unreal" jobs for the price of one, most interns subsidize their unpaid day job by working in the service industry at night and on weekends, as well as by living at home to a later age. But in the U.S. – where it has become commonplace to hop from one unpaid culture job to the next for a year or two – a disproportionate number of interns, as Frederick observes, appear to be living off trust funds, seemingly without any immediate concerns about earning a living. But just as the service-sector employers will not admit that the youthfulness of their workforce might have something to do with the wages they pay and the security they fail to offer, you will never catch a television network or a publisher confessing that the absence of remuneration for internships might also have something to do with the relative privilege of those applying for these positions at their companies. This racket is not only exploitative in the classic sense, it also has some very real implications for the future of cultural production: today's interns are tomorrow's managers, producers, and editors and, as Frederick writes, "If you can't get a job unless you've had an internship, and you can't take an internship unless you can get supported by daddy for a couple of months, then the system guarantees an applicant pool that is decidedly privileged."

Music video stations such as MTV have been among the more liberal users of the unpaid internship system. When it was first introduced, the music video channel represented a managerial coup in low-cost, high-profit broadcasting since the stations primarily play videos that are produced out of house and supplied by record labels. While some stations, including Canada's MuchMusic, now play licensing and royalty fees to broadcast videos, these pale in comparison to the production costs of the videos in a single top 30 countdown. Inside the stations, on air-hosts, producers, and technicians work alongside unpaid, mostly student, interns who sometimes are rewarded with jobs and sometimes stay at the station for many months, hoping for their big break. Which is where the legendary success stories come in – the famous V.J. who started off answering phones, or the greatest success story of them all: the tale of Rick the Temp. In 1996, Rick won the annual "Be a Temp at MuchMusic Contest" and was welcomed to the station with cross promotional fanfare and branded giveaways. One year later, Rick was on the air in his new job as V.J., but the kicker was that even after he became a big star, he kept the moniker Rick the Temp. There was Rick on TV, interviewing the Backstreet Boys, and although he was always paid for his work, for would-be interns, his success served a daily advertisement for the glory and glamor that awaits if you donate your labor as a gift to a major media company.

Some of the references feel a little dated even though it was only written ten years ago. For example, MTV doesn't seem to play music videos anymore. But her point about only the privileged being able to afford taking part in the economics of cultural institutions is very persuasive to me.

For Satie

2010-12-05T19:26:00.003-05:00

Simple sketch for a solo guitar piece. Dedicated to Erik Satie for obvious reasons.

For Satie by Nathan Alexander Pape

The Contradictory Nature of the Free Market and the Creative

2010-11-23T13:42:00.007-05:00

I've been thinking over the annoyance that so many appreciators, myself included, of music have with the current hierarchy of the music industry. Though it tends to be the first point that people grasp onto, it is not the profit off of music by organizations that is the issue. If they were truly pushing the art form forward and keeping it abundant as part of our culture while making money, we should have no issue with it.

The issue, however, is linked to the profit making (though said profit is apparently shrinking this century). It is the age old tale of capitalism, to maximize profit one must be able to create a product for less while selling it for more. The idea behind this system is that an entity must conform to the expectations of the public in order to sell a product while simultaneously competing with organizations in the same field. Therefore, quality is upheld by public demand...right?

Well, if the public represents a well informed group of people, then yes, it will all balance out. But if the public is unaware of what actual quality is or has not been taught how to differentiate the many intricacies of a given topic, then it is up to the producers themselves to teach the public, to tell them what is good and what isn't, to show them the many possibilities. This goes for any field, medium, type of product.

Apply this model to music, or any art form for that matter. Consumption of music by the public is dependent upon taste. In a society where art and music are taught less and less in schools, it is up to other sources to generate interest and invariably shape the judgment of potential consumers. Who's influence will ultimately be able to reach more: one who holds a cultural tradition and the continuance of an art form dear or one who stands to profit of the same art form through public consumption? (No these two sides are not exclusive of one another, but stay with me for a second.)

With enough economic backing to support a great marketing campaign, either side could win, but money typically follows paths that lead to more money. Money moving towards cultural stimulation is like pumping water uphill.

So we have a ripe public full of consumers with little knowledge on the possibilities of the art form. What does an organization concerned with its profits produce in order to satiate the public hunger?

A cornucopia of options?
Or many variations of the same idea that can be marketed to appear as if they represent the spectrum of possibilities within the art form, thus shaping what consumers know to be possible and accept as appropriate?

The analogies to the food industry are plentiful, pun intended. Corn products have been disguised to create the appearance of an abundance of choices. The music industry isn't much different in its tactics, except that it doesn't have poorly designed government subsidies to spur its means of production.

For decades, bad music has been unleashed on the public through the record industry. It is easier to produce much of the same than it is to produce a wide variety.

This has shaped us as listeners in so many ways. For example, live acoustic performance of music has become a novelty in so many ways. It is not the only way to perform music. But it is a marvelously beautiful and important method. David Byrne explained the influence of architecture on music in a very clear presentation for TED.

There are musicians, record companies, and publishers that are expanding musical practices. We should be thankful for their push forward. But, as far as I can see it, this will always be an uphill battle.

Daniel Levin Quartet on October 25, 2010

2010-11-09T19:12:00.006-05:00

Daniel Levin - cello

Nate Wooley - trumpet

Matt Moran - vibraphone

Pete Bitenc - bass

Daniel was kind enough to invite me to see him perform at Alain Kirili's loft, the artist's home in Tribeca that has been opened up for performances by many of the luminaries of improvisation.

There are not enough words to praise this quartet's playing. Together they transform phrases and fragments into compelling performance. They tear apart melodies to piece them back together–making everyone present thankful to witness the process.

The quartet has a dynamic energy and definitely has developed their own style. It feels free in a similar way that Ornette Coleman's music does. Free of confines in form, but a definite sound, their own sound. The sound of a group starting somewhere and going in their own direction.

Daniel, Nate, Matt, and Pete have built a language together. They take a jumping off point and go from there without question. No looking back. Pushing forward and inviting the listener along. Recordings that I've heard of them are great, but their music just begs to be seen live.

After the performance, Daniel took a moment and spoke to me about his approach to improvisation. "Do you remember when you were a kid and had a pile of Legos in front of you? You would just grab pieces and put them together!" He takes bits and pieces to construct each performance, just like a child excitedly builds. So refreshing to hear him talk in such nostalgic language. I look forward to witnessing him construct more.

For Jim McAuley

2010-10-23T18:27:00.004-04:00

For Jim McAuley by Nathan Alexander Pape

Easy Not Easy Festival on October 7, 2010

2010-10-09T14:31:00.006-04:00

The Easy Not Easy Festival is a series of concerts that Roulette is holding to raise money for the new space that they're moving into. The Art Deco theater that they are working on renovating will expand their seating to close to 600. I would estimate that for most concerts now they cannot sit much more than 100. This is a great new move for a great venue. And hell, now they'll be in Brooklyn, and a section of it easily accessible by me!

Due to some travel of mine, I was only able to attend this past Thursday, the first night of the festival. The following was the program:

Radio Waves In the Air

Aki Onda

Four For a Time

Brenda Hutchinson

AK47 with the Pharoah

Justin Frye

Conducing

Andrew Lampert

Pieces from Volac, Masada Book II "The Book of Angels"

John Zorn

Untitled

Shahzad Ismaily

Silence

Pauline Oliveros

Performers:

Aki Onda - tapes, electronics

Richard Garet - electronics

Ben Greenberg - electric guitar

Katherine Young - amplified bassoon, electronics

Sergei Tcherepnin - modular synth

Maria Chavez - turntables

Shahzad Ismaily - bass, synth, etc.

C. Spencer Yeh - violin, electronics

Erik Friedlander - cello

The opening piece by Aki Onda seemed to be a piece where a certain structure of the performance is told to performers and it moves from there. It started with Katherine, placed to the left of me within the audience, playing some long tones and jumping registers in pitches. This was shortly followed by Aki Onda carrying a radio with a small amplifier, contorting the characteristics of the resulting static, and slowly pushing his way through the seated audience–pushing chairs along the floor and knocking over my (thankfully empty) beer bottle. Other performers around the room joined in adding sparse textures.

Of all of the pieces that dealt with the use of what would typically be considered noise (basically everything performed other than the John Zorn), Radio Waves in the Air was certainly the most effective. It worked outside of the typical audience/performer relationship. Since performers were scattered throughout the space, it didn't suffer from a flattening of the aural image (see my previous post). I greatly enjoyed facing forward and listening to the soundscape move around me.

When listening to electronic music, I can't help but think of John Cage's opinion that it didn't make sense to make music in any traditional sense using electronic information. To him, a new medium meant the need for a new tradition. So why perform in front of the audience? Of course you can, but should it be the typical set up? Though a little quirky, I found Aki Onda's approach excitingly interactive.

And as appropriate as ever, the piece ended (possibly by chance) on a rock tune whose content concerned the sweetness of Alabama. I think it was Kid Rock.

Erik Friedlander, as always, did a spectacular job with John Zorn's Masada repertoire. Masada, of course, is Zorn's project that cross pollinates Jewish music along with jazz forms and practices. It is basically a large collection of "tunes", as I believe I once heard him say. These tunes have been interpreted by many different ensembles to great success.

Approaching this music as a soloist, Erik has created a very nuanced approach to music that sounds familiar and new. As a listener, you hear Klezmer, some dissonance, and a healthy dose of interpretation–all executed fluidly but without being too sterile. I cannot say enough about how much I enjoy Erik's work, especially his solo performances. His own series of compositions for solo cello are documented on Block Ice and Propane, an album that spans the breadth of Americana on his very Euro-centric instrument.

I also particularly enjoyed Shahzad Ismaily's piece which was for solo modular synth. Not knowing the inner workings of a modular synth, I could only listen and not analyze the approach. If you've never seen a modular synth...

So the result of all of these wires (at least what Shahzad crafted and Sergei performed) was a pulsating wash of sound, varying greatly in timbre. The piece slowly grew to a high dynamic level with a sound that to me was simultaneously static in its content but active in its internal interaction. It then quieted down to its ending. Judging by Sergei's reference to a small sheet of paper when everyone thought it has ended and then stating that it was over, I'm guessing Shahzad set up a series of directions to be interpreted from there. The end result was mesmerizing. (Perhaps a Stockhausen-esque directional piece? I'm guessing here.)

As for the rest of the pieces, they were somewhat of a wash for me. They all had their moments of interest, but differentiating a performance of Hutchinson's Four for a Time from Frye's AK47 with the Pharoah would prove difficult even after listening to them side by side.

Something that set Pauline Oliveros's piece from the rest was what must have been a direction to stop playing and to allow silence. And then to start again. This broke up the performance in a new way–basically getting people to shut up, which frankly can be a stimulating trick in a group of improvisors.

Lets hear it for Roulette. They continue to allow musicians with new ideas to perform. I'm looking forward to the new space and the new ideas to come.

The Flattening of the Aural Image and Why Many People of My Generation Have Never Truly Heard a Room

2010-10-07T10:01:00.010-04:00

All electric guitarists become giddy when they play with a loop pedal. Suddenly, without any other musicians, you can create a huge wash of sound quickly and easily. There are many cliche approaches to these devices, but I stand by the fact that they are very useful. But lets not equate many looped guitar textures (or any musical instrument for that matter) with a large ensemble.

In order for anything to be useful, one must know the limitations. As far as I see it, the electronic devices that have become so prevalent in music making, especially music making for mass consumption, will never replace "traditional" techniques, though they will (and already have) draw attention away from traditional practices and simultaneously create completely new traditions, which we're already seeing. I think it is pretty typical of practitioners of electronic music to sell their medium as an all encompassing musical world with infinite possibilities–every variable of the soundscape can be controlled and manipulated at any moment. No longer is music held down by the strictures of instrumentation, space, the rigor of standard notation methods. Well...yes and no.

(as a side note: Many improvisors try to place their medium within a similar light–they are convinced of a sort of godliness inherent in the practice. I think Derek Bailey's Improvisation makes some similar claims.

In a large part, I disagree, though I still love the practice of improvisation.)

I hate to bring us back to the established western pedagogy, but it serves as an easy enough example. If you listen to an orchestra in a world class concert hall, there are a host of uncontrollable variables that add up to one's listening experience–resulting from the musicians performing and the characteristics of the space. Acousticians have worked to create many different metrics that can act as indicators to gauge good and bad acoustics. Of course these metrics vary greatly for the different acoustical environments that are ideal for a range of musical practices.

The experience of orchestral music within an ideal space (as it exists today) is the sum of centuries of listening to music making where certain variables of sound were held somewhat constant, whether by choice or not. This seems true of all traditional musical practices.

Some limitations posed by choice: tonalities, tuning systems. Some limitations posed by circumstance: the directional characteristics of a violin, different performance spaces acoustical characteristics that were available (something that was somewhat of a crapshoot in the past). With these variables set into their confines, composers then varied other systems: dynamics, harmony, available instrumentation. Each controllable element at a composer's fingertips was really a packet of linked variables. For example, a cello has a particular timbre (spectral content), directionality, and pitch range. All of these specific to just choosing an instrument.

For the most part, you could not greatly vary a particular acoustical characteristic (the spectral content of a sound for example) without affecting other parameters. Because, of course, the easiest way for a composer to change the spectrum of a note was to change the instrument it was played on, which, as mentioned above, changes many other elements.

Now the advent of electronic music, particularly noting the standard interface (the laptop) and its seemingly infinite possibilities. Variables are no longer strictly linked, unless done so by a practitioners choosing. But this infinite availability, in itself, has limitations, which mainly stem from, from what I can tell, how fast people can interact with the new interfaces and from the complexity of the sound sources, which are typically loudspeakers. The proposition that computer music can make any sound experience possible is perhaps–in an ideal world–true, but for the most part there are just completely different limits to be concerned with such as spaces programming this work, equipment availability, the usability of one's interface.

Mind you that I am in no way an accomplished "laptop artist" (for lack of a better term), let alone very familiar with this music other than from general listening.

My whole point here is not to diminish the artistic integrity of electronic music. I just want to point out that, as with any medium, there are limitations. And for every attempt to move past these there will be new ones, however minute they may seem. Electronic music is just different from the easily referenced western pedagogy of art music. Different is good.

Back to the flattening. I'm a guitarist. The historical invention of the amplifier has forever changed the possibilities and traditions of this instrument. A technology that was meant to allow the guitar to be loud enough in ensembles, such as big bands, has morphed into its own realm of practices and possibilities.

So the amplifier in its typical usage today acts not just as a sonic boost, but as the entire source of sound–allowing guitarists to no longer have to worry about being lost in the band, something I'm sure many musicians' neighbors and other instrumentalists could do without.

Now that the amplifier is the primary source, the origin of sound has been removed from the location of the musician entirely. AND the directional characteristics of the guitar (or any amplified instrument for that matter) are now that of a loudspeaker, not of the instrument.

This is a very important point. It has shaped much of the music made since the mid-20th century and how listeners relate to a performance. The first live concerts most of my generation heard were most likely amplified. The only spatial characteristics you heard from a room in these situations were completely unwanted (we are not talking about sound art here).

So someone makes sound (someway or another) with amplification. (S)he uses loops to create textures. Amazing sounds can be made this way. Walls of sound are erected. Here is where the limitation lies. If they are running out of a single amplifier, all of these magnificent sounds (lets assume they're a great musician) have been condensed into one location. The spatial aspect of an ensemble has been sucked into a black hole. Increased dynamic range and controllability of musical textures have been gained at the cost of spatial information.

(Now of course mutli-channel systems can be made to allow a single instrumentalist to move beyond this limitation. Issue Project Room, the venue in Brooklyn, made a 15 channel overhead speaker system. I heard Okkyung Lee perform some amazing music with this system.)

This became about a lot more than just the flattening of the aural image. But my point here is that the proliferation of amplification and the methods that have become standard practice in its applications have drastically changed how we listen, and what, as listeners, we know to be possible. There are certainly people that are completely open-minded and are aware of all of the beauties inherent in many different practices of music. And I hope that somehow more people are exposed to such things.

Music has been transformed in many ways over time, but let us continue to listen to all of the possibilities and not forget the greatness that came before us as we ~~move it forward~~ continue to add to the pile.

Iva Bittova

2010-10-04T12:25:00.002-04:00

What a great performance. I'm always stunned by how innovative yet familiar Iva's music is.

October 3

2010-10-03T17:35:00.006-04:00

Guitar improvisation I performed today. Enjoy.
October 3 by Nathan Alexander Pape

John Fahey

2010-09-23T10:14:00.001-04:00

Just wanted to say that John Fahey is an American treasure.

Christian Marclay Festival 7/10/2010

2010-07-20T20:55:00.015-04:00

The Whitney Museum of American Art is currently hosting the Christian Marclay Festival, an exhibition of work which illustrates the intersection of the visual and the auditory. Films of Marclay's are continuously shown, and some of the most respected musicians of the "downtown scene" will be performing (or interpreting) Christian's work through late September.

Christian is credited as being one of the first (if not the first) to use the turntable, not as a playing device, but as an instrument itself. Pretty important musical milestone in the late twentieth century.

His compositions often replace traditional musical notation with visual information and/or instructions. The clear example of this being the currently evolving chalkboard piece at The Whitney. Patrons are invited to add whatever they wish to the length of chalkboard with musical staves adorned on it. They can compose music in traditional notation, doodle, erase, or even write snide remarks–one that comes to mind was something like "woohoo I got a show at the Whitney". Musicians will be interpreting the chalkboard at different times during its existence at the museum.

I'm still not entirely sure what I think about this piece. For me, it invites both interest and derision by using public interaction. What is it about "we're all taking part" art that leaves a bad taste in my mouth? I'm really not that awful of a human being to think that the public has nothing to add, but it just seems so...well...easy. And I HATE saying that, because I know that that is the reaction that many people have to the music that I most admire, so who am I to react to visual art of that nature.

Perhaps its the un-public nature that is actually at hand here. A single person puts up a wall for everyone to interact with, yet its their name that claims ownership. Even with the most caring of intentions, the gallery space never really seems public; it seems more like a signing over of everyone's input to the whole–knowing that you contributed. But, ultimately, its "their" work. It's not the public that is appreciated (they're not the creators here), its the "benevolent" artist that opened their wall to the public. I may be too cynical here. This isn't really what I care about.

My next reaction to the chalkboard is of a musical nature. I am very interested in graphic notation, but due to the logical mindset that often possesses me, I just don't enjoy graphic scores that have no system of communication. By this, I mean pictures or sketches with no inherent directions that are then proclaimed "scores" as opposed to a non-traditional, visual method of communicating a piece. I understand its importance of breaking down the conventional mindset that is Western pedagogy, but frankly, improvisation does a better job of that without, yet again, marrying the musician to the page. I suppose there's more than one way to skin a cat, but this one always makes me a little queasy and then makes me feel slightly conservative for rolling my eyes. But I roll my eyes anyway.

Let me state something before I make it sound as if I despise this show (I actually don't at all): I find improvisation to be one of the most invigorating ways to create and hear music. In some pieces, Christian merely simplifies the instrumentation at hand, which is often a great way to limit improvisors and have them approach music outside of their standard practices. It's my respect for improvisation that results in negative reactions to graphic scores that barely instruct the performer in any way. It asserts the hierarchical roles of composer and performer into a creative process that otherwise would be instantaneous and pure. It continues to assert the visual, both from the public and the performer's perspective, on what is actually an auditory experience. These are the same reactions that I have to some of Earle Browne's early work, December 1952 comes to mind. I'm glad that someone in the classical world appreciated improvisation, but the movement never seemed to move past the page, which seems like running halfway up the hill.

I was able to see two performances on July 10 of Christian Marclay's compositions: Sixty-Four Bells and a Bow and Wind-up Guitar. Both of these works are a choice of instrumentation and the rest is up to the performer. I'm not aware of any graphic information that a musician is to refer to for either of these.

In his Sixty-Four Bells and a Bow, the performer is given sixty-four bells and a violin bow and can create sounds however they wish, including amplification and electronic manipulation. Nicolas Collins performed this piece more as an interaction with the bells and other systems than as the percussive improvisation that one would first assume the piece to inspire.

Nicolas approached the bells in three different ways, the first of which I missed since I was late; I believe it had to do with laptop processing. The second interaction with the bells was using speakers as stimulators. He played a recording of someone talking through speakers on the table and then placed bells on the speakers as they moved or had attachments to the speaker cones strike the bells as they reacted to the speaker's movement. (I should note that I would not have known that the recordings were of people talking if I had not overhead him explaining this to someone after the performance.) His next process was covering two microphones with bells to manipulate the feedback of the amplification system. Depending on the size of the bell and how much he covered the microphones, different pitches were summoned and swelled throughout the gallery–the bell no longer producing the sound itself but influencing the music by partitioning off a resonant volume. The resulting combination of tones were surprisingly beautiful and haunting.

I would still say that the interpretation was a successful venture. (For my own ears, I would love to hear a performance of this where the bells were only shaken, struck, and bowed. The percussive approach. I think that would be a worthwhile, though perhaps obvious, interpretation.) Something that I should mention was the inevitable inclusion of the scrapes of microphones that resulted when Nicolas would make an adjustment to the setup–the unintentional becoming part of the work and adding an eeriness to the ringing of bells, feedback, and the quiet percussive nature of the manipulated speakers. I actually enjoyed its presence.

Wind-up Guitar was performed by Alan Licht. All that I'm aware the performer is given is the contraption of a guitar with multiple music boxes installed in its body with their wind-up keys sticking out. The music is for them to find through the object.

Alan's performance that afternoon was underwhelming. Most of the time he played sloppy quarter notes and would add a music box every now and then. The performance seemed far more like a demonstration of the individual elements of the object rather than a musical piece as a whole. He also added to the instrumentation with a tuning fork and an equalizer which was used to create feedback when he felt the need. It wasn't until near the end of the piece that he decided to go with the fairly obvious method of winding up multiple music boxes at the same time–creating a nostalgic cacophony. This was interesting to listen to, but maybe too obvious of a strategy for him to embrace right off. Frankly, though, sometimes the obvious is the best choice, and the twenty to thirty minutes that it took to get there were mainly superfluous. I'm all for long performances of minute material, but improvisations do require some editing.

Here are three video clips of his performance. Photographs and videos were encouraged by the way.

So overall, I'm glad The Whitney is putting on the Christian Marclay Festival. A small niche of the creative music that has been native to New York for decades is being displayed to the public as opposed to hidden in small venues. I do, however, worry that the ingestion of this work by the public will create misunderstandings of what contemporary music is and will overly generalize one person's approach to be equivalent to all contemporary music. I think this is a legitimate concern since the museum world is, for the most part, not the territory of composers and improvisors. But hopefully this festival will invigorate the curiosity of the public in the practices of creative musicians and encourage them to investigate new music further–there is a lot to find.

Zeena Parkins "Between the Whiles"

2010-07-08T16:00:00.003-04:00

I've been attuned to music featuring limited instrumentation lately–groups of singular timbres, soloists, duos, trios. I love hearing what can be coaxed out of a single instrument, or the interplay between two voices conversing. Notes growing close to one another. The slippery form that can morph at any moment to something solid. The single note that pulls everything together.

That being said, the music documented on "Between the Whiles" is not limited to a single sound or instrument. It covers a lot of terrain. But there is something about the nature of the music, it all being made from the thoughts of an individual, that makes every sound heard as if it came from one source. Everything flows effortlessly and has the feeling of an intimate performance.

The best moments are those that seem as if they've gone on forever but never die, always being piled on top of with something new and scraped away from to show the bare beauty. Zeena does some of the most exciting things with the smallest amount of material, and then, out of nowhere, it shines at a new angle and the idea is as fresh as when it started.

Zeena–drawing upon improvisation, minimalism, noise, rock–has developed a singular voice for herself. She summons voices that haven't been heard before and places them within contexts beautiful, abrasive, exciting, haunting and uses them to mold pieces that seem as organic as free improvisation but simultaneously as thought out as through-composition. Frankly, who cares how these pieces were made? The results are tremendous. This recording documents a powerful voice that should be heard.

Some of the Things I Heard, 26 May 2010

2010-05-26T23:09:00.002-04:00

alarm multiple times with 10 minutes of silence in between
brushing teeth
walking on concrete
walking down concrete steps
subway sounds, which included a very interesting wavering rumble (the train stimulated a resonance of the tunnel)
fan noise along with the sound of coffee being poured
crumpling of paper bag
chewing
typing and clicking for many hours accompanied by various office sounds and conversations, scooting of chairs, other people's computer interactions, arguments
carrying a desk loudly in a loud freight elevator
putting a desk together
the scraping of heavy shelves pushed on hardwood floors
more computer interaction
cocktail party and award ceremony (conversations of my own with others' conversations in the background)
subway again, no resonances were noticed this time
the dull hissing and thuds at the laundromat
Morton Feldman's "The Kind of Denmark" (probably played louder over speakers than he intended for it to be listened to)
these computer interaction sounds

Seth Cluett featuring Okkyung Lee

2010-05-23T17:03:00.005-04:00

A week ago at Roulette, Seth Cluett hosted an evening of his works. What is so intriguing about Seth–and this is apparent from the moment that he starts talking–is that he is actually interested in the audience being as completely inspired as he is by the simplicity and beauty of sound.

To start off the night, the piece Paper and Stones involved the entire audience. He handed everyone in the audience two small sheets of rough paper, except for two members who were given two small stones. The audience was instructed to rub the paper together in a circular motion at whatever speed they felt like. The two stone players were then instructed to tap the stones together once for every time that some member of the audience–anyone of their choosing–completed a circular motion with the paper. To cue the beginning of the piece, Seth crumpled a large sheet of paper very slowly. The audience then followed the simple directions until he crumpled his sheet again, signaling the ending.

The result of this piece was a meditative few minutes for everyone present. The quiet scrapes of the paper changing speed and intensity accompanied by the taps of small stones from either end of the room. I was lucky to be nearby someone with stones–allowing for a contrast between the dynamic levels of the different rhythmic tappings.

This very subtle piece almost begs for one to raise an eyebrow and say "Ok. I get it. Very clever. Can we move on?" But Seth's genuine love for the sounds around him and his want to share this with everyone else through his practice makes this performance as concrete as any I've heard in a while. If you just forget yourself for the moment and listen–as we all should do–some very exciting things happen.

Next was the premiere of Overflow and Drift for cello, sine wave oscillators, and reed drones. Okkyung Lee performed on cello as a drone played through two loud speakers. This piece is an exploration of the interaction between notes and the changes that attack and timbre can make. Okkyung has the ability to coax almost any sound out of her cello, and the musical depth that results from her meditations upon a single note is astounding. The sound of the cello beating against the amplified drone recalled James Tenney's Beast for double bass, a personal favorite of mine.

After a short break, there was a solo performance by Seth on laptop, modified electronics, and amplified objects. As with the previous pieces, single sounds were shown to be far more interesting. The piece started with the the scraping of stone and then was taken over by a beautiful electronic harmony that persisted throughout the rest of the performance with meandering notes coming in and out of focus. I realized how much I was loving the performance when I slightly turned my head and found a whole new sonic universe available within the same space. It became immediately apparent that Seth was using the room as his instrument–turning the oddities of a space into the material of the performance. I wish he had invited us to stand up and walk around in order for us to explore the spatial nuances available throughout the room.

Seth Cluett is the type of artist that I'm truly glad still exists. He is enamored and excited with the sounds that surround us, and he wants to share it with those willing to take the time. Virtuosity is not what is being explored here. Something far simpler, but often under-appreciated, is brought to the forefront in his work.

Roulette

2010-04-09T18:35:00.003-04:00

I thought it appropriate to dedicate a posting to one of my favorite venues in New York City—Roulette. They continuously allow innovative musical voices, whether they be composers, instrumentalists, improvisors, or anything else under the sun, to perform and have their music heard.

With attendance to all creative events currently lacking, it is important that there be a means to present the contemporary forms of all art. Roulette allows for this. I encourage everyone interested in music to check out something presented here. Roulette fulfills a very important role in the creative world of New York City. Go to their website. Look for something of interest. Support live performance.

(Also of note on their website is the great catalog of videos of past performances. Great videos of Billy Bang, Robert Black, Margaret Leng Tan, Ikue Mori, and many more.)

The Theatrics of Performance (posting rethought)

2010-02-23T20:47:00.006-05:00

If you read my previous post titled "The Theatrics of Performance", I apologize. I'm an idiot. Its a good thing that my readers are very few (perhaps very very few) at this time.

First off, of course gesture and theatrics are going to influence one's perception of music. Second off, if one is newly exposed to a subject (whether it be an artform or science or arithmetic being taught in elementary school, it doesn't matter), they are not going to necessarily understand or even focus upon what a seasoned practitioner, or admirer, would – which, frankly, is not a bad thing at all and is probably more refreshing than anything. To witness the response of someone unfamiliar often brings to surface the subtle and intricate beauties that lay atop the medium that one is so passionate about – those elements that the obsessed usually store away and forget to think about.

I hold both of these points to be true. Both of these points contradict exactly what I was saying in my previous post.

What I realized after a lot of contemplation is that I shouldn't have been frustrated that "people don't listen anymore". What I should have been frustrated with is that people only listen. I should have been frustrated that we have overly separated music and theatrics through our digestion of the recording.

(Now before I go too far on this, let me just say the following: the advancements within music in parallel with the existence of sound recording [and the proliferation of recordings] throughout society have been monumental. This is a technology that has allowed for endless study of performances and dissections of idioms. Without sound recording, the last century of music would in no way have existed as it did. Though it has largely simplified listening habits of the public due to capitalist entities' marketing tactics, it has also allowed the connoisseur to expand their taste to the infinite degree. And lets be honest, if sound recording hadn't come about, the vast majority of people would still have simplified listening habits: their surroundings and their communal music making.)

My frustration was vented in the wrong direction. We should all have our immediate reactions to every part of the performance. What makes a performance great is the fact that its not just sound. Why even try to separate the sound and gesture!?

What I'm frustrated with is the fact that no one goes to performances anymore and is able to appreciate the gesture for what it once was. We all have our moldable aural landscape which has been present since the advent of the headphones. And with the advent of the MP3, this landscape has become even more customizable. What we've done is separate music from performance to such an end that in performances we expect songs to sound exactly as they do on the recording and to be accompanied by the best show on earth. We've lost our appreciation for the simple human movements that pull beauty out of objects before our eyes.

I'm ashamed to have even thought that "getting beyond" the theatrics allows for a deeper understanding. Before recordings of music, they were one in the same, there was no separation to be seen. To understand one, the other had to be understood. And frankly, having seen technically gifted academics give very boring performances, I would say that this still holds – only we often forget it during the toils of extended study.

To finish, the fact that, as music makers and as listeners, we've pulled apart and sewn back together the traditional notions of music is fascinating and very exciting. Most preexisting notions of music have been tested ad nauseum in the past century or so, and for good reason. I just hope that we're able to preserve the majesty of musicians gathering in a room and making the music that comes to them. In order to be able to do it all, we have to experience it all.

2010-02-22T11:34:00.001-05:00

Lawrence D. "Butch" Morris

2010-02-06T12:18:00.007-05:00

Last Monday February 1, I was lucky enough to attend a lecture and performance given by Butch Morris and a string octet at the Stone. This was in celebration of the 25th anniversary of the first Conduction that Butch performed.

The Conduction system that Butch has developed over the years is a method for leading large ensembles in spontaneous performance. I hesitate to use the phrase "group improvisation" due to an eloquent dialogue given by Butch on the difference between improvisation and interpretation. I honestly can't give that discussion much justice. You should probably consult Butch yourself for a far more experienced and well spoken explanation than I personally could give.

Butch went through a series of his hand gestures that he uses in leading large ensembles. With the explanation of each gesture, he would lead the ensemble, focusing on the single gesture, to illustrate what can musically be accomplished within the system. So that the audience could see his gestural techniques, he had the ensemble set up with their backs to the audience with him facing forward. This gave a very intimate look into the happenings of a truly brilliant method of music making.

The following are a summation of the gestures that he discussed:

sustain: musicians sustains a sound of their choosing
repeat: musicians repeat a phrase of their choosing
panorama: to play and/or to not play when passed over by a hand gesture (difficult to explain without just seeing it done)
slow -> fast: signals for changing the speed of playing
pedestrian: assigned musician is to bring new information to the ensemble (this is not a "take a solo" signal; in fact, there is no sign for that)
memory: signal to the musicians to remember what they are playing, which allows Butch to recall instances within the music so as to develop themes and so forth
graphic: musicians to interpret "graphic" input of Butch's movements
develop: signaled musician to develop the material they are playing
key: the note that each musician is currently playing is now their personal key

There were more signals that I didn't manage to jot down, but I think this gives a good picture of what can be accomplished. Note, there are no signals for specific harmonies and no signals for "take a solo". If he wants to hear something very specific, he writes it down and will assign the different written ideas numbers, which can be recalled just as other moments can through the use of the "memory" signal.

This system becomes very fast moving. Frankly, I believe it accomplishes so much that, on the page, would be very complex and stiff, but with the proper leadership, breathes with the beauty of true musical interaction – something that is often missing in contemporary pieces. For example, the ensemble is given the "repeat" signal. Every musician comes up with a musical gesture of their choosing at a length of their choosing and repeats. The wash of overlaying layers that is accomplished from this one signal is immediate and amazing. Notating this same idea would certainly require some effort on the interpreting ensembles part, but to me, the strict notation of such a simple yet complex idea is largely missing the point of what one would want to musically accomplish. I think this is exactly what Butch wanted to escape. And he has. Elegantly.

If you have an opportunity to see Butch perform a Conduction, GO LISTEN. The man is a master and an artist of the highest caliber.

The Theatrics of Performance

2010-01-31T21:44:00.004-05:00

I'm not so ridiculous as to assume that one's perception of a musical performance can be separated into entities that rightfully coexist but are independent–sound content and gesture. But I have recently become very aware of the fact that whether people realize it or not, gesture or the theatrics of a performance (and I'm talking specifically about a musical performance) have far more of an effect on why they do or do not enjoy something. And maybe I'm a little biased and overly wishful that people would open their ears and close their eyes a little more often, but this says to me that people aren't listening.

I had a recent experience where someone accompanied me to a free improvisation performance. The performance was fantastic. My company enjoyed it as well, but what they noticed was certainly geared toward the gesture. "Sneezing" into the clarinet. Banging on the piano. And yes, these were integral parts to the performance, but describing them in such ways allows many to laugh or smirk at what in reality are truly interesting sounds made by seemingly absurd gestures.

Now before I sound too snarky about my listening habits and my expectations of the audience as a listening body even those just introduced to what they're seeing, let me point out that this encounter reminded me so much of my first reactions to music made in similar fashions. I was fascinated with the how and not really the result. It was only upon consideration after consideration of "why would people make music like this?" that I finally stopped and listened. And then I finally got it. There are far more interesting sounds in this world that don't rely upon melody or rhythm or being "in-tune". These sounds just exist, and, as composers or improvisers, there is an interest in allowing others to hear just what you're hearing and hope that they at least find some hint of what initially intrigued you–that sound that caught your ear, standing alone or following another.

Is this why people don't attach to certain works? Not just musical, but any creative body. As an audience, do we get caught up with the surface without bothering to look deeper?

So how do we show an audience these sounds without the "unmusical" gestures that accompany? If the gestures do distract first time audience members, are we really showing them what we want to? What about removing the gesture altogether? Something seems missing. The point of performance becomes downgraded. For myself, I find recordings of whatever unusual sound played through loudspeakers just don't cut it. They keep the spectral content but change the spatial. There is a clear change in the sound that was originally so interesting. Not that this destroys it, but it needs to be considered.

I realize that I sound overly idealistic. I'm not. An artform will never be just about the basic pieces that it claims to use. Sound is not all there is to music. Color and depth are not all there is to the visuals. Dialogue is not all there is to theatre. There will always be these other things that we digest without thinking about. I just hope we can all take in enough to be able to get past the surface–those features so easy to identify–and try to look for or hear what else is around the corner, beyond the accessible.

The Clarinets

2010-01-25T19:41:00.004-05:00

The Clarinets are an improvisational trio formed by Chris Speed, Oscar Noriega, and Anthony Burr that is based around...that is correct...clarinets. The simplicity of the idea behind this group is its greatest asset. One family of instruments. Three great musicians who are humble enough to contribute and not just take flight. Phenomenal results.

None of them force themselves to the forefront, and without relying on the traditional forms of improvising, there is plenty of depth to this music with its ever-shifting subtleties and its ability to envelop the listener in the sonic conceptions made up of amazingly close intervals, beautiful textures, and a realization that simplicity truly is complex. As cheesy as it sounds, this group feels organic in its playing. They embrace the blend that is achievable by focusing on a single instrument as the foundation of the musical unit, and that greatly informs their nuanced approach to stretched out ideas and allowing sound to beautifully intermingle. The results ring with as much genius and beauty as any contemporary composition.

I was lucky enough to catch The Clarinets at Barbés in Brooklyn over a year ago and was completely delighted–I bet I was grinning from ear to ear. Though they don't appear to be playing too much (probably because the respective players are in-demand musicians with other things on their plate), everyone needs to take the time to digest this remarkable group.

As a side note, it is worth checking out all of the other music released by Skirl Records, the artist-run record label that released The Clarinets only album. Some artists that caught my ear were Ted Reichman, the Shelley Burgon and Trevor Dunn duo, and the duo of Jessica Pavone and Mary Halvorson.

Chris, Oscar, Anthony, thank you for this. I hope to hear more.

Iva Bittová

2010-01-16T15:57:00.003-05:00

A singer, violinist, violist with theatrical inclinations while performing. Unabashedly forward with her voice that can range from loud and somewhat frightening to transcending the most beautiful territory. Playing that simultaneously sounds of such refreshing newness and reflection upon tradition. Iva Bittova is absolutely stunning.

She was brought to my ears' attention when looking through the Bang on a Can All-Stars catalogue a few years ago. Seeing this video on youtube, I was immediately captured. The Bang on a Can All-Stars album is great, but I just picked up her self-titled release on Nonesuch. Wow. I truly envy her ability to create such texturally interesting songs just using her voice and her instrument. She is joined by Pavel Fajt on percussion on a few tracks, but for the most part this album is a solo effort.

Some of the tracks were recorded as much as 20 years ago. I really wish I'd known of her earlier. So refreshing.

Björk interviews Arvo Pärt

2010-01-09T13:27:00.003-05:00

Master Classes at The Stone

2010-01-09T13:19:00.003-05:00

For anyone in NYC, The Stone has great news for musicians looking to learn. Now, instead of being closed on Mondays, The Stone will be hosting masterclasses by some of the most revolutionary musical minds of the past few decades. They've already started, and as far as I know, there will be a class hosted by a new musician every Monday. I am particularly excited about Cyro Baptista and Butch Morris.

The Stone is located at Ave C and 2nd St in Manhattan. For dates, go to the following link:

The Stone Calendar

And of course, amazing performances at The Stone shall continue.

The Debate Over Technology and the Arts: Can the Artist Survive This Increase in Accessibility?

2010-01-05T16:44:00.000-05:00

I largely disagree with the following article. Yes, I believe in the proliferation of the arts. The arts should be easily accessible to the public, but this is putting an overly optimistic spin on the accessibility of video, music, and photos in an attempt to posit that the state of the arts is better than ever even though attendance of performances have declined 15% between 2002 and 2008.

How New Technologies Secure a Place for the Arts

What strikes me as strange is they never ask the question of how artists are to make a living in this new technological age. This is especially important as methods of compensation for the arts are still within the mindset of the gallery and the performing arts center. If attendance to these places is down, what is the artist to due?

Music and photos and so forth are now more accessible (and often free, regardless of legality) and there is now the potential for a larger audience, but is that really enough for those making the work? And does this new accessibility encourage or discourage the attendance of live performances? I would guess the latter.

Beth Gibbons & Rustin Man

2009-12-31T20:33:00.000-05:00

Having mentioned this to many Portishead fans and having most of them say that they weren't aware of it, I think it is worth mentioning that, in 2002, Beth Gibbons from Portishead released a remarkable album partnered with Rustin Man. It is very minimal in its textures and so moving in its starkness. Please listen.

Beth Gibbons & Rustin Man: "Out of Season"

I think I've enjoyed this more than the work put out by Portishead, but that is largely due to the musical mood I've been in for some time now. This album is always easy to come back to and very comforting without sacrificing any integrity. Amazing work. Again, please listen.

Meredith Monk on UbuWeb

2009-12-29T23:42:00.001-05:00

For anyone who is interested, there is an hour long documentary on Meredith Monk available for free viewing on UbuWeb.

Four American Composers: Meredith Monk

Meredith has pushed the bounds of extended vocal techniques throughout her career and has inspired many musicians in her time. I highly recommend listening to her.

I'm particularly fond of her album "Mercy" made available by ECM (an extraordinary record label that I cannot say enough about). "Mercy" was my first encounter with Meredith's music; it was one of those recordings that caught my ear at the right time.

Enjoy.

Giacinto Scelsi

2009-12-29T23:23:00.000-05:00

So after a few initial posts about a year ago, I pretty much stopped writing. I've decided to try to start this up again. So here goes.

A composer whose name has been on my radar for a while is Giacinto Scelsi (1905-1988). He was a the Count of Ayala Valva and is known for writing music based around a single pitch.

Scelsi's genius combined with the amazing musicianship of bassist Robert Black makes "The Works for Double Bass" from Mode Records a phenomenal album. Yes, I know. A single pitch. How exciting can that be? Not only is it exciting, it is haunting in its austerity.

This is definitely worth a listen:

Giacinto Scelsi: "The Works for Double Bass" performed by Robert Black

I still have a lot of catching up to do in listening to Scelsi's works, but I wanted to put this out there for anyone interested.

Okkyung Lee on Ear to Ear (WNYC)

2009-01-20T20:04:00.001-05:00

One of my new favorite composers/improvisors was interviewed on Ear to Ear on WNYC recently, the cellist Okkyung Lee. This is a great interview with Okkyung, and all of the music that is played is unreleased at the moment. Songs feature Ikue Mori, John Hollenbeck, Peter Evans, and more.

Ear to Ear: Okkyung Lee

I enjoy her music because it tastefully escapes the typical role of the improvisor. It seems to me that its far more about the textures of the ensemble than it is about the soloist-in-the-forefront moments that so many improvising groups center their musicmaking around. The songs aren't about individual's capabilities on their instruments but their imaginations that are coerced through their instruments and how they combine as a whole.

I always look forward to hearing something new coming from Okkyung Lee, and I urge everyone to open thier ears to her and enjoy.

Postal Pieces

2009-01-03T13:22:00.000-05:00

I found a great paper on James Tenney's Postal Pieces. If you're not familiar with these, I highly recommend looking into them, both for the beautiful music and the idea of taking a simple idea and deriving a whole performance from it.

Here's the link.

I saw the bassist Robert Black perform "Beast" from the Postal Pieces, and it was so haunting and beautiful. I've heard that Sonic Youth also does a rendition of "Having Never Written a Note for Percussion".

Is Music Melody, or Is It the Other Way Around? (footnote)

2009-01-03T11:56:00.000-05:00

In my previous post, I attempted to tackle what, to me, has become a big issue and also a big interest. Are the building blocks of music as concrete as other artforms? And, if not, is that a bad thing? does that mean breaking them down and moving in directions away from tradition is even more valid? I'm not sure, but this is what I was trying to bring to mind. I'm sure there will be more of my thoughts on this in the future. (I'm not sure that my using melody as the basis for this was the most valid approach.)

Is Music Melody, or Is It The Other Way Around?

2009-01-01T14:52:00.001-05:00

Is a melody as strong of a building block as a sentence or an image? A sentence is able to convey a thought or an action. An image preserves a moment, which in turn allows for some sort of understanding (not that it must, but that it is able to). What does a melody do? It stays in our heads for some unknown reason, but what is it?

It is not composed of words with meanings to combine to a thought as a sentence is. A melody is merely a set of tones played in a specific order with specific durations and accents. There are those that would argue that melody conveys emotion. Major = happy, delightful. Minor = sad, depressed. But there is nothing of substance to lead to that; it is merely our reaction to sound. (And that reaction in itself may just be trained in us culturally. Maybe if, from childhood, we were shown happy images alongside minor melodies and horrifically depressing images alongside major melodies, we would have a different perspective on the meaning of a melody, or rather, what emotion a melody conveys.)

I guess my point is that melody, as a building block for music, does not seem to be as strong of a basis as say a sentence for literature or an image for a painting or a photograph or a film. Music, in itself, seems to have less of a logical reason to exist as an artform if melody is its only reason for existing.

This leads to my point of writing all of this: I hate when someone says that something is not musical because it lacks a melody. A melody, as I see it, is only a small part of the artform of music. Music is an artform composed of sound. A melody is a happy coincidence of putting the right notes in the right order and then...well there it is, a singable tune. But what about the beauty of the scrapes and scratches and noises of everyday life? of the sustained chords that seem that they'll never end, taking on a whole new life just through the fact of their duration? These are the things I love to hear used in music. And, well, defining when they are sounded together correctly that is up to the listener.