Thursday, June 3, 2010

"In George Crumb's Solo Cello Sonata (1955) we have a good example of a work by an American composer living in freer political and stylistic circumstances than some of his European counterparts of the time, but still facing essentially the same problems of his age: the search for an individual response to the musical revolutions of the first half of the 20th century. Written during the time when Crumb was a graduate student in Berlin, the three-movement Sonata also owes a certain amount to Bartók. An opening Fantasia, making expressive use of pizzicato, is followed by a Tema pastorale con variazioni, in which a highly chromatic theme is put through its paces in three variations and a coda. The final movement is a Toccata which, after a short slow introduction, makes much use of dynamic and timbral contrasts" (Keith Potter). Watch a performance by cellist Umberto Clerici . . . one of this week's FEATURED NEW MUSIC VIDEOS.

According to Roger Knox (The WholeNote), "Percussionique (Albany Records), a disc of percussion music by American-born Canadian composer Michael S. Horwood, should attract both new music aficionados and others interested in revitalizing listening experiences. Superbly performed by the Toronto Percussion Ensemble and guests, it is beautifully recorded and presented by Albany Records. The “spine” of this chronologically presented oeuvre is a series of Pieces Percussioniques dating from 1964 to 2008. Spanning numerous and varied contemporary compositional practices, a consistent voice still emerges, refined yet playful. A percussionist himself, Horwood writes idiomatically throughout. Intricate divisions of the beat layered variously between instruments give an effect of luxuriant flourishing, without cluttering the texture. In a noisy world we forget to listen truly: try letting Percussionique’s sound world beguile you!" Check all this out, and more . . . at our current FEATURED RECORDING.

Michael Colgrass' The Schubert Birds was commissioned by the National Arts Orchestra in 1989, and is loosely based on an obscure Waltz by Franz Schubert. According to Marvin Dickau, "I am a staunch lover of contemporary music, particularly by Canadian composers. I found The Schubert Birds to be most interesting; full of mood changes, complex melodies and rhythms, along with lush chords. There is always an overtone of dissonance, sometimes more pronounced, sometimes less. From an almost ethereal start, the composition moves through many simulated bird calls interwoven with atonal melodies in fourths and fifths, all supported by the mellow lower strings. Each section has moments of prominence – wonderful mallet work from percussion, full bodied strings and tightly woven woodwinds and reeds". Hear a performance of The Schubert Birds thanks to Arts Alive and NACmusicbox . . . one of this week's PYTHEAS EARFULS.

Lou Harrison's Canticle No. 3 (1942), written in San Francisco, is one of a series of Canticles for percussion "in the ecstatic manner". Of the work, the composer wrote, "It was written at a time I was most interested in Indian and Mexican music and is composed out of a very few rhythmic and melodic germs, developed in larger sections, by continuity, overlaps, and the usual augmentation and diminution." The revised version was first performed at the University of Illinois in 1952. An All Music Guide review explores the piece vividly . . . “The ocarina, a torpedo-shaped terra cotta flute, has a pure, primeval tone that, combined with percussion, gives this score a hauntingly primitive, ritualistic feel. The five percussionists haul out tam-tam, xylophone, snare drums, bass drums, wood blocks, temple blocks, tom-toms, and maracas, as well as such exotica as teponaztli, sistrums, brake drums (both muted and suspended), metal pipes, elephant bells, cowbells, and water-buffalo bells. Amid all this -- which Harrison exploits for timbral richness, not loudness -- the guitar struggles to make an impact of its own, remaining absent or in the background until taking a slightly more prominent role at the end. The work falls into three large sections. In the first, the ocarina plays a little pentatonic dance, then retreats for what amounts to an extended percussion cadenza arising from the rhythm of the ocarina tune. The ocarina returns for the second part, now playing a very slow melody of short, repeated phrases deeply indebted to Native American music. Percussion instruments give the melody a shimmering halo, but again the ocarina disappears during a fast-tempo, gradually expanding percussion crescendo distantly based on the rhythm and pitches of the opening tune. Just as this section climaxes in a series of widely spaced crashes, the ocarina and guitar take advantage of a moment of silence to bring back the pentatonic tune from the beginning, the quiet percussion accompaniment now more threatening than before. Yet instead of exploding in a final percussive outburst, the music very gradually slows and fades away, leaving nothing but a slowly throbbing bass drum." Watch a performance of Lou Harrison's Canticle No. 3 (1942) by The YouTube Symphony Orchestra with conductor Michael Tilson Thomas . . . it's this week's FROM THE PYTHEAS ARCHIVES.

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