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CONTEMPORARY MUSIC REVIEW
June 7, 2004
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By Jules Langert
Composer Luciano Berio's death last year at age seventy-eight was commemorated on Saturday evening by members of members of the sfSoundGroup at the San Francisco Community Music Center. Entitled “Omaggio a Berio,” the concert offered a notable sampling of his shorter pieces, and ending with a collaborative collage of his music, listed in the program as Laborintus III. Of all the pieces on this two hour-long memorial, the strongest and most affecting was O King, composed in 1968 in response to Martin Luther King's assassination. Scored for soprano with two violins, flute, clarinet, and piano, it was later rearranged for eight singers and full orchestra and used as the slow movement of Berio's Sinfonia, completed in the same year.
For its text, O King uses the name Martin Luther King rendered into phonemes that are sung softly, in a tone of prayerful meditation. The instruments gently echo the soprano line heterophonically, creating a fuzzy, resonant aura around the voice, while the piano interjects an element of violence and outrage in a series of jarring, isolated accents. These reach a brief, intense climax on the name King (suggesting a parallel with Christ's martyrdom), after which the music subsides into lingering tranquility as the piece ends.
Before intermission, there were three of Berio's Sequenzas, part of a larger group of virtuosic etudes that the composer wrote over a number of years for various solo performers. Sequenza V, for trombone (1965) is overtly theatrical, with the performer , Toyoji Tomita, coming onstage dressed as a clown in white makeup. After warming up with a few loud notes that seemed to frighten him, he brought out a mute, and began playing in earnest. At one point, turning to the audience, Tomita spoke the word
“Why?”, and then began playing a longer, more vigorous passage. The piece ended after a slow, thoughtful section seemed to exhaust both the player and his instrument. Tomita exhibited a wonderful combination of intensity and playfully bemused resignation along with the requisite virtuosity in this affectionate parody of a Beckett-like existential fable.
Berio's early Sequenza I for flute (1958) opened the program, centered on the contrast between short, spasmodic bursts of sound and longer, sustained tones. Sudden interruptions and changes of register help maintain a high level of tension and a feeling of unpredictability. Diane Grubbe played with energy and commitment, though a lack of tonal variety and occasional breathiness limited her range of color and the degree of expressive nuance that this piece needs. Sequenza VII for oboe (1969) is tethered to a single note which is held, repeated, and used as a constant springboard for brilliant quasi-improvisational flights of skill and fantasy, often including multiphonics and other extended techniques. Unfortunately, this note was reinforced by an electronic drone for the length of the piece, stifling any sense of spontaneity and simply getting in the way of the music. In spite of Berio's sanction for this procedure I would prefer a less intrusive solution, perhaps using some intermittent reinforcement. In any case, oboist Kyle Bruckmann performed the piece masterfully. The final work, a forty-five minute collective extravaganza devised by the performing ensemble, transformed Berio's Laborintus II for large chamber group, implanting it with a host of quotations and excerpts from Berio's other music, including works heard earlier on this concert. Engulfed in the score were references to Circles (1960), setting poetry of e.e. cummings, as well as something from Berio's Sequenza for voice. From his Sinfonia there was a text by Beckett intoned over the loudspeaker, and from Folksongs we heard “I wonder as I wander.” Many other excerpts were included, as the program notes indicated. All of this was made possible by Berio's open-ended textures which allow virtually anything to be added if it is done in the right way. This style can lead to conflicting feelings of exhilaration and weariness, because of the inventive overload. This night, however, there was a joyously inclusive spirit radiating from the performers and matched by the fairly large audience, who responded to this novel collaborative tribute with enormous enthusiasm.
(Jules Langert is a composer and teacher who resides in the East Bay.)
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Luciano Berio