Next up was Morton Feldman’s 1976 work Routine Investigation for oboe (Kyle Bruckmann), trumpet (Tom Dambly), viola (Heather Gardener), cello (Monica Scott), bass (George Cremaschi), and piano (Christopher Jones, who conducted simultaneously). This work was typical Feldman, with its fleeting textures, softly dissonant blocks of sound, and gently spiraling motives that passed between instruments. The ensemble played these fragile sounds with great nuance and control. Yet there were some difficulties getting chords to speak and articulate exactly together — certainly a difficult task for such a mixture of instruments at such soft volumes. This was the only place during the concert where the precision of the ensemble left something to be desired.

A magical moment came when the gentle patter of rain on the roof entered at a particularly soft moment. It seemed to fit right in with the gentle textures of the music. The work was quite short by Feldman standards (it couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes). I would have been happy to inhabit its sonic environment for far longer.

The first half closed with a group improvisation performed by Ingalls on clarinet, John Ingle on alto saxophone, Scott on cello, Cremaschi on bass, and Jones on piano. It was a typical example of the Bay Area’s mostly texture-based, free improvisation scene. There was a strong emphasis on extended techniques, dissonant intervals, pulseless rhythm, and short, compact gestures. It was particularly sensitive and effective, and I could tell that the players were listening and responding to each other. They made space for different voices to come out of the texture at different times, and successfully gave the shifting textures direction and flow.

The great group-intuition was especially evident at a beautiful moment toward the middle. A busy and hectic texture suddenly gave way — apparently spontaneously — to a soft, sustained chord. The ending was memorable, as well. Ingle held an impossibly soft, barely perceptible note on the saxophone. And just when it seemed it could not get any softer, he erupted into a burble and a blast. That was followed by a snappy pizzicato from Scott on cello … and then silence. I enjoyed the improvisation and I have no complaints. But I couldn’t help but wonder, as I frequently do when I hear free improvisation in the Bay Area, why it was so restricted aesthetically. What if a pulse-based rhythmic pattern, or a lyrical melody emerged out of those textures once in a while?

The three works on the second half of the program all utilized electronics in one way or another. Local Color, a new work by featured composer John Bischoff was the most compelling. The piece (which closed the concert) is a study in high bell sounds — a combination of real bells triggered by the computer, synthetic bell-like sounds, and sustained tonal clusters. The effect was hypnotic and calming. The gentle tinkles wafted around the room, pulsated, and bounced off each other. As the bells died away, their vibrations were absorbed into the background clusters of shimmering sound. It brought to mind wind chimes on a lazy summer day, twinkling stars, and shining metal objects. I had a sense of deep and profound calm that I have rarely felt from music before.

Bischoff’s other new work, Edge Sonic, was far less successful. Scored for the full sfSoundGroup ensemble — which added Toyoji Tomita on trombone, the versatile Christopher Jones on bassoon, and Bischoff on electronics — it utilized electronic sounds that were triggered to respond to the instrumentalists. The program notes explained: “Each player is given a minimum of pitched material from which to build their part. As they play, colorized fragments of similar material are reflected in the electronics and accumulated in layers of increasing density. … In the second half of the piece, players are free to improvise as the textural motion of the electronics gradually increases and takes on a life of its own.”

It seems like a potentially compelling idea. But the effect was chaotic, and despite interesting moments, ultimately monotonous. It fell prey to one of the primary pitfalls of electronic music — it allowed the excitement of a technical challenge to take precedence over the actual sounds generated.

Luigi Nono’s 1976 work … sofferte onde serene … ( … serene waves suffered … ), which opened the second half, also suffered from monotony — in spite of many interesting sounds, and pianist Christopher Jones’ precise and nuanced performance. For piano and a tape part made up of pianolike sounds, the piece featured a wide variety of cluster-based sounds and chords. But somehow the combination did not add up to a compelling piece. The basic effect was somewhat similar to the Feldman work earlier in the concert. Still, the gestures in the Feldman were somehow more clear, focused, and memorable. Nono’s gestures tended to blur and fade into each other, making it hard to distinguish what I was hearing from what I had heard previously.

It was hard to trace any shape or trajectory to the piece. I appreciate Jones’ musicianship and obvious dedication, and it could be that there was something there I was simply unable to grasp. Still, it certainly did not leave me with a thirst to hear it again and find out. As a whole, however, sfSoundGroup certainly did leave me craving their next concert. I’m curious and eager to hear what sorts of novel and surprising sounds they will present next.

(Jonathan Russell is a professor of musicianship at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music and music director at First Congregational Church in San Francisco. He is active in the Bay Area as a clarinetist, bass clarinetist, and composer.)

©2006 Jonathan Russell, all rights reserved