Partch work quilting

Today, some of us at the EMC feel a bit Partched, given that Harry Partch has won a Grammy. So many people have been talking about Partch that we followed one of the YouTube links (thanks to our friend, the John Cage expert, David Patterson) to a 1958 film about Partch in which he shows off his instruments. This film can be found on a DVD from Innova Recordings, which includes four rare films and performances (see here: http://www.innova.mu/albums/harry-partch/enclosure-viii ). The DVD also includes a 1968 film about Partch that was broadcast on KPBS San Diego (a film that appeared briefly on YouTube but was removed), and a 1981 performance of Barstow at San Diego State University by Danlee Mitchell and the SDSU Partch Ensemble.* But for the moment, luxuriate in the demonstrations of Partch’s instrumentation. Microtonal sounds so juicy you could swim in them….

*I was a graduate teaching assistant at SDSU in 1980–81 and got a glimpse of early rehearsals for that performance. As a TA, it was my responsibility to keep undergrads off the cloud chamber bowls, which were stored at the back of the recital hall.

Lentz in the lens

The whole Southern Californian ‘pretty music’, minimalism and postminimal scene that came up from the late 1960s and after is very complementary to the British experimental scene. Some of the connections are there (Harold Budd’s work with Brian Eno on Obscure Recordings, for instance); some are just really happy parallels. This week, two items about Daniel Lentz came into my personal Facebook account. Lentz is one of the twin pillars of the Los Angeles ‘pretty music’ scene (along with Harold Budd). His music is sometimes almost liturgically ritual, often lush and sensual, intimate, occasionally funny, and, yes, often very, very pretty. Daniel Lentz’s music is always well worth checking out (as is his artwork). (For those who don’t know his work, here’s his website: ).

But back to last week’s Lentz. The first is a link to YouTube. It’s a mid-1980s American children’s TV show called Reading Rainbow, hosted by LeVar Burton, in which ‘Is It Love’, a piece from Lentz’s album The Leopard Altar is set to an animation. It’s a delight of bright digital sound. Here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzQrYTWdNCA&feature=youtu.be . It’s worth chasing up the whole track, which lasts about nine gorgeous minutes.

The second Lentz item is a piece from 1977, and was sent to us by Janyce Collins, performer, teacher, and pilot. This piece is called Flying Alleluia for 29 Hang Gliders, a piece in which each hang-glider pilot either sings a note, or installs a wind-operated Aeolian reed on their machine. The 29 pitches are played as each pilot launches in score order, so that ‘massed listeners’ below the flight path will hear the Alleluia plainsong. We do hope that someone performs this again, and that it will be a good day when we’re there to hear it.

Portsmouth Sinfonia at the Royal Albert Hall

One of our favourite British experimental groups was the Portsmouth Sinfonia, aka ‘the world’s worst orchestra’. This is a short documentary about their performance at the Royal Albert Hall on 28 May 1974, with Sally Binding, pianist on Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto, and the Portsmouth Sinfonia Choir, singing The ‘Hallelujah’ Chorus from Handel’s Messiah. It’s in three parts on YouTube, to be found by clicking the links below. Thanks to the musicologist and theorist Kevin Holm-Hudson for making us aware of this historic film.

Ives, Essays, and the ‘Strange Artist’

For those of you who follow Kyle Gann’s PostClassic blog, you will have found a real treat today in his entry, ‘Justifying the Strange Artist’, in which Gann looks at the work of Henry Cecil Sturt’s ‘Art and Personality’ essay. Charles Ives wrote his famous Essays before a Sonata, partly in response to Sturt’s essay. Here Gann reproduces a long passage from his upcoming book, giving us a good idea of what Sturt thought and why Ives wrote his response. Gann begins by stating how much the Essays influenced him as a teen, and how the reception of Ives’ writings have been increasingly seen as confused: ‘a jumble of pseudo-intellectual blovations’. There seems to be a trend toward a revision of Ives reception in recent years, with writers seeing him as homophobic and sexist, and returning to the early view of Ives as a kind of ‘outsider’ amateur, whose innovations come mainly from his inability to write music competently. Having spent a lot of time reading Ives (and Cage) from the age of thirteen and having my mind well and truly ‘blown’ by the ideas of these composers, I find the modern response to be curious. I can only imagine that the lack of understanding of the Essays and the condemnation of his ideas by modern writers to be a problem with their understanding of music and of history. Gann’s blog post is here: http://www.artsjournal.com/postclassic/2015/01/justifying-the-strange-artist.html . It’s well worth close reading.

EMC scores and the Internet

Happy New Year! And how nice of many of you to have sent us news, views and greetings over the winter holiday. Following one of these nice notes, we thought it would be nice if we explained more about what we put on the EMC site and how you can trust what you find here.

There are a wide variety of sources for experimental scores on the Internet. Some of them are pure gold — direct copies of a composer’s work, often uploaded by the composer or their estates. On other sites, score incipits are uploaded as examples and although very useful for an introduction, they may not be complete. Some scores are uploaded by people who like the music but may not know anything about it, so it might be mislabelled or badly described. A few may be poor quality or ‘copyleft’ (rhyming slang for theft) and pirated — put up without the composer’s permission.

When you get a score from the Experimental Music Catalogue website, you will know that the composer has given her/his permission for it to be there. Sometimes the composer or rights holder will ask for the score to be sold. If so, the score will be either published under the EMC ball imprint, and the composer will receive a straight 10% of the purchase price, or it will be produced by the composer and distributed by the EMC, in which case the EMC gets a straight percentage of the price. Increasingly, though, we have approached composers to give their permission for us to reproduce some of the more iconic text and graphic notation pieces as pdfs that you can download FOR FREE. The score will be sensitively reproduced; it is handled and uploaded by two real people, Virginia Anderson (me) and/or Christopher Hobbs, who will have sent the pdf for the composer’s approval before upload. It will often be accompanied by a short note on the website, or this blog, explaining what the piece is and how it fits into the history of British experimental music. It will be a score that is meant for performance, usually, or at least is approved for research purposes. We make this clear on each piece. And with this score you can always contact the EMC if you have any questions about performance or other issues.

And do keep sending in suggestions, comments and such. We spent some time last year in adding material to the website and hope to do so again soon. And we’ll let you know what we know about cool concerts and other things on this Blog and on our Facebook page as we get them.

Behind the Irritable Hedgehog

One of our regular go-to composers is the founder of Irritable Hedgehog Recordings, David D. McIntire. McIntire works on worldwide minimalism and postminimalism, totalism, and all the postmodern ‘isms’ anyone could want, from his base in Missouri. The official site of Irritable Hedgehog has music by a number of composers (pianism by R. Andrew Lee, design by Scott Unrein) is worth visiting: http://irritablehedgehog.com/Recordings.html . However, today we were perusing McIntire’s Soundcloud page, which includes a bunch of his Hedgehog tracks, plus E.I.O, a free improvisation group which McIntire co-founded. Well worth a little listen: https://soundcloud.com/irritable-hedgehog-music .

Jon Hassell trio on KCRW

Those fans of minimalism and ambient music might like this rare visit by Jon Hassell and his trio to Los Angeles’ KCRW programme, Morning Becomes Eclectic. The trio includes movie music guy John Von Seggern on bass and electronics and Cold Blue artist Rick Cox, whose guitar, electronics and sax work has been delighting postminimalist friends for decades. Interesting, jazzy stuff. We’re listening to it now….

http://www.kcrw.com/music/shows/morning-becomes-eclectic/jon-hassell-2014-07-16

Pritchett on Cage

James Pritchett has been adding to his blog series on Cage, now in six episodes: http://rosewhitemusic.com/piano/writings/cage-spirituality/ . This is a very useful addition to the thinking about John Cage’s work and ideas. Too often recent scholarship has stepped back from Cage’s spirituality as motivation for his work, preferring instead to focus on the nuts-and-bolts of his compositional technique. Pritchett, an expert in the philosophy and musical elements in Cage’s work, brings rich detail to his exploration. Very highly recommended.

New series of blogs on Cage

Cage fanciers will be thrilled with this new series on James Pritchett’s blog. Pritchett is one of the great writers on Cage: author of The Music of John Cage, and of the Grove Dictionary entry on him. Pritchett has written a lot on Feldman and others on this blog. Well worth checking out. See http://rosewhitemusic.com/piano/2014/05/31/cage-spirituality-still-point/

In C in Birmingham

On Friday, as part of the Frontiers Festival of New Music, Simon Peacock, his Surge Orchestra, plus students of Birmingham Conservatoire (as the Thallein Ensemble) played Terry Riley’s In C (1964). This performance was held in the absolutely gorgeous setting of the rotunda of the new Library of Birmingham. The place is worth visiting just for the view: blue-lit escalators and a high-level people mover, black metal framework. Add to that a whole lot of books and exhibits and a pretty good cappuccino at the in-house café, and it’s a lovely place to visit. But we were here for Terry Riley.

Chris Hobbs, who had directed the first British performance of In C in London in 1970, introduced this performance. His introduction (the first part of which was cut off) appears here:

Hobbs had been advertised as performing with the group and had rehearsed with them once rather late in the schedule. But he decided that they had already fixed their performance and that it would be better for him to let them perform it themselves. The ensemble of students was especially excellent and enthusiastic. They would have played a classic version of In C very well indeed. Such a version would have consisted of the score: 53 little motives that are repeated ad libitum by each player, who moves through the material at her/his own pace. The resulting counterpoint of voices has made In C stand out as the first ever piece using repetitive process minimalism. Almost all performances are kept together by a pulse of repeated high Cs in octaves throughout the piece (usually on piano or mallet instrument). Once all performers reach the final repeated motive, they can end on a signal by the conductor.

I had come expecting the classic version, given that it was an anniversary event. At the very most, I had expected the group to follow the main structure and motif to motif procedure, adding occasional improvised melodic ornaments. Riley himself has added such material. However, the improvisation — or what might have been directed or newly composed material — was far more extreme than I had heard before. The group, rather bravely, rejected the C pulse, choosing to keep time themselves. Here they are, after an opening improvisatory passage, including a spoken monologue by Peacock, beginning the first real Riley portion of the performance:

The lack of a pulse made the tempo in the Riley music slow down somewhat, but not as much as some previous performances. But what was unusual was the decision by the director, Peacock, to intersperse sections of the Riley with other passages, most of which did not have the driving pulse of In C. These were described as improvisation. Peacock chose to speak some text through a microphone, both at the beginning, before Riley’s first notes, and in an improvised passage just before the final chunk of Riley’s music. This text, which was blurred and unintelligible, could have been Riley’s own prose, but I suspect was Peacock’s own. This clip has the last of Peacock’s narration (which seems to have had some sea imagery, though I am not sure) and the improvised music:

Now, this is a report of what happened, not a review, so I’ll only share a bit more of what I observed. I was not at the rehearsals, so the following is just an educated guess. I don’t think what they played was free improvisation and extemporisation of the original piece. Usually in free improvisation, there are ‘fuzzy edges’ in which a performer initiates a new texture, melody, or character to be taken up by the rest. But for me, this was too directly sectional: of Peacock, Riley, Peacock, Riley, etc. Some of the Peacock band sections had a little Riley in it. Most, like the excerpt above, had little of the incessant pulse of the original piece. The audience, some of whom had come specifically to hear In C, some of whom were library visitors who happened across it, seemed to have a different physical reaction to the Riley sections than the Peacock ones. Of course, this was due to the rock-like propulsion of Riley, compared to the more amorphous Peacock sections.

Chris Hobbs has said nothing more about this performance than I’ve indicated above, so I have only my experience as a listener to go on. And that leads me to a question. Of course, there’s nothing wrong in revising or paraphrasing a piece, but when a composer does so, he or she usually calls it ‘Paraphrase on’ or ‘Meditation on’ the original composer’s piece by the paraphrasing composer. This concert was advertised as Terry Riley’s In C and was mounted as a fiftieth anniversary of Riley’s creation. If this piece is so important as to be memorialised with a performance at a large festival of American and British music, then why change it?