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CONTEMPORARY MUSIC REVIEW
Engaging Pandemonium, Frogs And All
December 6, 1999
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By Sarah Cahill
Confronted with written instructions or a photograph and asked to "perform"
it, many of us would be petrified. But under directors Fred Frith and Steed
Cowart, the intrepid Mills Contemporary Performance Ensemble honked and
strummed and croaked through thirty years' worth of improvised music and
graphic notation last Tuesday at the Mills College Concert Hall.
Mills has always been in the vanguard when it comes to new music, and
Frith, best known for founding legendary avant garde ensembles and wielding hair brushes and vibrators against his guitar, fits right in as visiting professor. Conducting the motley ensemble in a black suit and bare feet, Frith decided to keep the concert flowing continuously from Oliveros to Cardew to Stockhausen and so on, so it was hard to tell where Stockhausen's 1968 Intensity ended and where a structured improvisation began.
A few pieces did stand out. The wildest was also one of the earliest, Schooltime Special composed in 1968 by British composer Cornelius Cardew. Cardew's score is a set of questions and answers for each performer (thankfully, the program book included several scores). "Do you want to sing a note?" it begins. "Sing one." "Do you want to leave the room? Leave it." "Do you want someone to tell you what to do? Tell your neighbor what to do." Obviously wanting to sing a note, violist Erika Torchia ululated at the top of her lungs. Bass clarinetist J. Why walked offstage and came back with a megaphone. Wads of paper flew through the air as some musicians packed up their instruments and walked offstage.
The pandemonium was actually as engaging musically as it was theatrically. Violinist Sarah Zaharako found a toy keyboard somewhere and plinked away
while clarinetist Stuart Bogie stormed the podium and did a Frith impersonation. Frith himself came back onstage, while Why wound up a set of chattering teeth and let them loose by Frith's bare feet.
In a set of structured improvisations called Unforeseen Events, Frith reinforced his status as one of the guiding stars of the improv world. His cues are absolutely clear, delivered with the most economical of movements. In a fraction of a second, the ensemble could switch from explosive noise to absolute silence; they were as finely attuned to Frith as he to them. The frog pond next to the Mills Concert Hall has inspired countless compositions, going back at least to Pauline Oliveros' 1967 Alien Bog. But Anne LeBaron's Concerto for Active Frogs from 1975 was spawned from her memories of growing up in the South. Amplified through the concert hall speakers, LeBaron's frog recordings became intricate songs. Steed Cowart cued the ensemble in imitations of each frog; clarinetist John Yi honked and chirped in an exact echo of one; Zaharako's rapid bowing imitated another. Above them on a balcony, Frith appeared in a green turban to perform the solo role in a frog chorus. With half-burps, half-growls, he sounded remarkably amphibious. As the taped frogs started overlapping in polyrhythms, Frith's contribution grew more aggressive (and undignified) with deep belly croaks and snorts. More than just a froggy extravaganza, LeBaron's piece coaxed us to reflect on how surprisingly musical nature can be. Opening the program was Oliveros' Teach Yourself to Fly, a "Sonic Meditation" from 1971. "Gradually observe your breathing become audible, then gradually introduce your voice," says the score. "Variation: translate voice to an instrument." This was a delicious beginning, adding tiny sounds to silence one by one. The Sonic Meditations are performable by anyone, regardless of musical training. But to hear them performed by Oliveros herself, or by her Deep Listening Band, is a magical experience. Her sounds are carefully chosen, and spell-binding. The Mills ensemble's members are still young students, and some of them have yet to learn that freedom to improvise doesn't always mean more noise; it can also mean finding your own true sound. (Sarah Cahill is a pianist and a music critic for the Express, and hosts a music show on KPFA (94.1 FM) every Friday from 10 a.m. to noon.) ©1999 Sarah Cahill, all rights reserved |