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CONTEMPORARY MUSIC REVIEW
June 27, 2005
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By Benjamin Frandzel
“Penderecki's awesome!” That comment, overheard
before the latest sfSoundSeries concert at ODC Theater,
captures some of what this group is achieving:
bringing in a younger audience for new music, playing
it in an informal atmosphere, and putting it across
convincingly, with skill and energy. For their June
27 performance, sfSound focused on the 60s, revisiting
that decade's new vocabulary: experiments with
instrumental and vocal sounds, color and texture as
the basis for composition, and open-ended works that
handed over decision-making from composers to
performers. The ensemble grew to over forty
performers for the program and made a powerful case
for each piece.
The most rewarding piece of the evening came from the
least-known source. Robert Erickson's exquisite
Pacific Sirens (1969) mixed a collage of recorded
ocean sounds with a 15-piece mixed ensemble, blending
them seamlessly. A gradual increase in the density of
the taped component came in tandem with the developing
harmonic complexity of the instrumental group, in a
slow but focused process that felt entirely organic.
The players delivered a sensitive, finely-shaped
performance that respected the sounds of the Pacific
as equal partners.
The ensemble also deserves credit for reviving the
work of an important Bay Area composer whose music is
now neglected. I had been aware of Erickson's major
role as a composer and teacher here from the ‘50s
through the ‘70s, and found his book, The Structure of
Music, to be a lucid and valuable guide, but had never
heard a piece of his, and a search in the SFCV
archives didn't bring up any reviewed performances of
his music. I can only hope a revival of his work is
at hand.
One of Erickson's old students, Pauline Oliveros, has retained a more lasting place in the contemporary music world, and the players transformed into a vocal ensemble to explore one of the works that made her reputation. Sound Patterns, from 1961, brings whispers, rolls, hisses, tweets, clicks and held pitches from its performers. There's no text to the piece, but it finds its shape through layering and contrast. The players came up with a subtle and focused performance and seemed to enjoy their unusual roles, and the piece retains a freshness that it must have exuded when this kind of writing was brand new. Clarinetist/composer Matt Ingalls, one of the organizers behind the sfSound concerts, led a premiere of his Trio Largo, and it proved to be one of the evening's highlights. Contrasting a quartet of clarinet, oboe, alto saxophone and trumpet with a mixed octet, Ingalls created a compelling and original work by overlaying two separate processes. The quartet held long tones together, very gradually increasing their timbral contrast and the pace of their part before slowing to stillness in a palindromic sequence. At the same time, the larger group used only extended techniques, perhaps in a nod to the program's other works, and engaged in quiet improvisation, then a long silence, then a short, wild burst before dying out ahead of the wind group. A listener's faith in the gradual pace of the work and its unusual structure was rewarded by the originality and value of Ingalls' concept and the deep commitment of the players.
Returning to the early 60s, a quintet of wind and brass players addressed Christian Wolff's For Five or Ten Players. Like much of Wolff's work, this piece plays with both musicians' and audience's expectations, with long silences, brief fragments, and an emphasis on democratizing the composer/player relationship. The performance was very fine, with careful listening and sensitivity among the musicians. Wolff's work brings new experiences for the players, and ideally for the audience, but his music tends to be more compelling listening when it's performed by larger ensembles, as his brief gestures tend to acquire more heft with more players contributing. Penderecki's Fluorescences, for Orchestra (1961-62), brought the full ensemble out to end the evening with a bang, in a wild careen through a sonic landscape built on extended instrumental techniques. Many of the collective sounds that emerged had a raw beauty and the group played with great momentum, but Penderecki still comes across as a composer who builds simple ideas that don't always merit extensive treatment — in this case, using the instruments in every way but a conventional one — into large works, whether in his experimental days or his later neo-romantic music. This phase of Penderecki's writing is essentially a historical style at this point, long abandoned by its creator, and it would seem used up if it hadn't received the energetic, creative performance that the players brought to it, along with Ingalls' capable conducting.
(Benjamin Frandzel is a Bay Area musician and writer. In addition to writing concert music, he has collaborated with dance, theater, and visual artists, and has written about music for many publications and musical organizations. He is currently a graduate student in composition at San Francisco State University.)
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