How does composer Nikolai Kapustin view himself? . . . "I was never a jazz musician. I never tried to be a real jazz pianist, but I had to do it because of the composing. I’m not interested in improvisation – and what is a jazz musician without improvisation? All my improvisation is written, of course, and they become much better; it improves them." According to pianist Leslie De’Ath, "Kapustin's piano music is technically formidable, and as a pianist he possesses a technique to match. He remains the definitive interpreter of his own music, not just by virtue of the truism that he composed it, but also because his own recordings are astonishing feats of technical and musical accomplishment". Experience this firsthand by watching Nikolai Kapustin perform his Impromptu, op. 66, no. 2 (1991) . . . one of this week's FEATURED NEW MUSIC VIDEOS.

While relearning an old favourite piece, To the Earth (1985), for 4 terracotta pots and voice by composer Frederic Rzewski, percussionist Fleur Green discovered a poem she had written while working on the piece years ago:

In this earth where man makes and makes and makes, and quite often makes a mess,
we sometimes forget the earth has already made.

Perhaps we have forgotten that nature is violent and destructive enough
without us having to make more.

While we are making war with ourselves, we forget that nature alone is violent,
and a battle of elements.

While we are making objects of beauty for ourselves,
we forget that nature alone is beautiful and something to admire.

Have we forgotten reality is violent, depressing, intriguing and beautiful enough
to overwhelm?

If we are no longer touched by the beauty of a change in season,
no longer touched by the unique landscape that presents itself to us
silently every day,
and if we no longer rejoice in the ‘gentleness and cruelty of nature’,
then perhaps we need reminding.

Watch a performance of Rzewski's To the Earth by percussionist Bonnie Whiting Smith . . . it's this week's BANG, CLANG AND BEAT - New Music for Percussion.

George Crumb writes of his piece Processional (1983): "Like much of my music, Processional is strongly tonal, but integrates chromatic, modal, and whole-tone elements. The descending six tones stated at the beginning present the basic harmonic cell, subsequently elaborated by varied cluster combinations and permutations. Although Processional is essentially a continuum of sustained legato playing, tiny melodic fragments (which intermittently emerge and recede) provide contrast in articulation. I think of Processional as an 'experiment in harmonic chemistry' (Debussy's description of his Images for piano) - the music is concerned with the prismatic effect of subtle changes of harmonic color and frequent modulation. While composing the work, I felt no need for the resources of the 'extended piano' and limited myself to the contrasts of texture and color available through the conventional mode of playing on the keys. However, I subsequently did construct an alternate version which does in fact include a minimal use of non-keyboard effects (the choice between the two versions left to the pianist). The title of the music was suggested by the music's obsessive reiteration of pulse (sempre pulsando, estaticamente) and broad 'unfolding' gestures. Perhaps the music suggests more a 'processional of nature' rather than any sort of festive or sombre 'human' processional. Listen to a performance of George Crumb's Processional . . . one of this week's PYTHEAS EARFULS.

In Alvin Lucier's I am sitting in a room (1969), several sentences of recorded speech are simultaneously played back into a room and re-recorded there many times. As the repetitive process continues, those sounds common to the original spoken statement and those implied by the structural dimensions of the room are reinforced. The others are gradually eliminated. The space acts as a filter; the speech is transformed into pure sound. All the recorded segments are spliced together in the order in which they were made and thus constitute the work. In this fascinating exploration of acoustical phenomena, Lucier slips from the domain of language to that of music in the course of the repetitions of a simple paragraph of text. Listen to Alvin Lucier's I am sitting in a room . . . this week's FROM THE PYTHEAS ARCHIVES.

Explore, Listen and Enjoy!
Vinny Fuerst
Pytheas Center for Contemporary Music

American composer Alvin Lucier counts his 1965 composition Music for Solo Performer as the proper beginning of his compositional career. In that piece, EEG electrodes attached to a performer's scalp detect bursts of alpha waves generated when the performer achieves a meditative, non-visual brain state. These alpha waves are amplified and the resulting electrical signal is used to vibrate percussion instruments distributed around the performance space. According to Lucier, this kind of performance requires quite a deal of concentration to produce a steady stream of alpha waves from the brain, instead of just isolated bursts. And as Adam Strohm writes, this is "one of the most direct lifelines between the mind and sound in modern music, taking an even more unfettered approach than anything stream of consciousness or improvisation can produce." Watch a performance of Lucier's Music for Solo Performer by Steffi Weismann . . . one of this week's FEATURED NEW MUSIC VIDEOS.

"Ástor Piazzolla's Bandoneón Concerto (1979) was also titled Aconcagua by his publisher Aldo Pagani, because "this is the peak of Ástor's oeuvre, and the highest mountain peak in South America is Aconcagua". The Bandoneón Concerto is cast in the classic fast-slow-fast three movement disposition. The soloist enters immediately with a fiercely focused tango, goosed by harp and percussion under powerful string chords. The first movement includes a singing central section and two cadenzas before driving to a whooping close (John Henken/Los Angeles Philharmonic)." Watch a performance of Piazzolla's Bandoneón Concerto with the composer himself as soloist and the Kolner Radio Orchestra, conducted by Pinchas Steinberg . . . our second FEATURED NEW MUSIC VIDEO for the week.

This October the Pytheas Center mounted Yarmouth Contemporary Music Days 2010 through a grant from Yarmouth Arts (Yarmouth, Maine). Our first new music event was an exciting experience, though quite a bit of work for our fledgling organization to fit in, in just four days! Thanks to all those who participated in YCMD 2010 and helped to make it a success. Have a look at some of the festivities at the YCMD webpage: Ten by Ten and Music as Inspiration - Enjoy!

Nora Nettlerash writes, "Stars rarely arrive fully formed, even ones as uniquely iconic as Vincent Price. Price floated around Hollywood for almost a decade in various supporting roles, some of them quite prestigious. The trouble was, no-one had yet figured out where he really belonged. Dragonwyck (1946) changed all that. "Where" is an appropriate term, because a persona like Price's not only needs the right kind of character but the right kind of world to exist in. There was no shortage of creepy villains on Price's resume up to this point, but he had yet to find himself in the land of "Grand Guignol" where he would ever after be at home. Fortunately this Gothic melodrama lays on the "Grand Guignol" as thickly as the darkness in a crypt, from the gloom-laden cinematography of Arthur Miller to the constant brooding presence of Alfred Newman's score. The acting is appropriately intense without being overly hammy, with Anne Revere at her most aloof, Spring Byington uncharacteristically sinister and Gene Tierney white-faced and innocent. And in the centre of them all we have the surrealism of Vincent Price as some relic of feudalism in nineteenth-century America, rolling his eyes in mania and curling his voice menacingly round the script." Watch an excerpt from Dragonwyck with Alfred Newman's wonderful score . . . our PYTHEAS SIGHTING this week.

Toward the Sea is a work by Japanese composer Toru Takemitsu, commissioned by Greenpeace for their Save the Whales campaign. The work is divided into three sections — The Night, Moby-Dick, and Cape Cod. These titles reference Melville's novel Moby Dick. The composer wished to emphasise the spiritual dimension of the book, quoting the passage, "meditation and water are wedded together". In the words of the composer, "The music is an homage to the sea which creates all things and a sketch for the sea of tonality." Watch a performance of Takemitsu's Toward the Sea by the flute and marimba duo Hespérides XXI . . . this week's FROM THE PYTHEAS ARCHIVES.

Explore, Listen and Enjoy!
Vinny Fuerst
Pytheas Center for Contemporary Music