Wednesday, 4 April 2012
Also on the topic of electronic music...
You may want to turn down the volume on your computer when you watch this
AL
Colin Stetson: The Murky Waters Between Jazz and Minimalism
Really, go ahead. I'll wait.
...
Ok, so now we're all up to date on the fact that (other than being a beefcake with a *mean* playing face) he's a multi-instrumentalist who primarily plays bass sax. He tours and records with scores of huge pop acts but also records his own music. Stetson's most recent solo release, New History Warfare Vol. 2: Judges, was nominated for the Canadian Polaris Prize. This prize is a pretty big deal in the artier side of the pop music world - former winners include Arcade Fire, Final Fantasy, and Patrick Watson (as well as F***ed Up, but I don't think I can swear on this blog).
Those names should tell you a little bit about the sort of music that gets attention from the Polaris Prize committee - usually the nominees are genre-bending in some way, and the winning albums challenge notions of what "pop" music is. This totally holds true in the case of Stetson and his latest record.
To begin with (and this is going to get a bit recording-type-nerdy here for a second) the entirety of the instrumentals on NHW were recorded in a single continuous take, rather than by multitracking and layering various parts. This isn't entirely unheard of in instrumental music, but what is particularly interesting about this album is the textural depth that Stetson was able to attain. I played "A Dream of Water" in class last Friday, but I think it would be better for you to listen either to "Home" (the track that comes immediately after "A Dream of Water") or "Red Horse: Judges II."
In fact, I'll include links to youtube clips, for your convenience:
Home:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zwJ0FUw9ZmE&feature=related
Red Horse: Judges II:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B0tKKyEXYTI
(Oh, also, if you get a chance check out "Fear of the unknown and the blazing sun" - it's another example of the incredible musicianship on NHW)
Through the use of 20 creatively placed microphones, imaginative mixing and a mastery of extended techniques (circular breathing - he does it) Stetson is able to create a soundworld that amazed critics and fans alike.
He also managed to confuse people.
The promotion of NHW was fairly tied up in how it was recorded - it was important that the album was considered live. I could go on and on about how that's not really possible, since it's a recording, but that's not the point of this post. This connection between what Stetson had produced and a single, untouched performance is pretty telling about the market the music was being sold to. In pop music circles the term "live" is usually reserved for recordings of concerts, and overdubbing is a common practice. Colin Stetson and his PR team sold this record on the freakish playing ability and creative tracking and mixing solutions dreamed up by Stetson and his engineers - this record was sold as experimental.
This point is further hammered home by the fact that the album was released on Constellation Records - a Montreal-based label that deals with artists like Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Do Make Say Think.
But experimental what? Some critics felt the urge to label the album as a jazz excursion. That's even how NHW was labelled on Wikipedia, but I don't think I totally buy that. This article by Nick Butler at Sputnik Music touches on the reasons why music critics might feel inclined to think that way. However, as Butler goes on to point out, the pieces are highly structured and that blows the connection between Stetson and free jazz. And from listening to the record, it's certainly not a type of more traditional jazz, either.
A number of critics have drawn comparisons between Stetson's work on this album and Steve Reich's compositions. I think this is a particularly apt connection to draw; though I hear more Philip Glass in this album than Reich, trance-inducing repetition and sonic experimentation are clear themes here. Once you get past the sheer awe induced by the number of things Stetson is doing at once with a single instrument, the interest in this recording seems to come from a musical minimalist place. The variations from human error inherent in a single, unedited performance color the tracks and lend the variety needed to keep the interest of the listener.
This perhaps most pronounced on the track "Lord, I just can't keep from crying sometimes," which consists of vocals - overdubbed after the original sax recording session, by Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond - and a single, sustained C on the bass saxophone. Outside of the vocal line, which is itself pretty provocative, Stetson's inhalations, the rattles of the body of the sax, and the occasional squeels of the reed as Stetson leaps from one octave to another are the "hooks" of the track. That's not too far from what we talked about in class with regard to 4:33" - when you remove from a composition (or recording) what would traditionally be a focal-point, other aspects come into focus.
And then there's the connection between Stetson and electronic experimentalism via Laurie Anderson's work on the album. Anderson is a visual artist and composer who invented a tape-bow violin (the horshair on the bow is replaced with a section of tape with something recorded on it, and the violin has a tape-head mounted onto it). Anderson's work on NHW is purely in a spoken-word context, but the connection to the avant-garde past is still there.
Is it possible to have an "avant-garde past"?
I think it's clear that Colin Stetson's NHW is a complex case-study for where the lines between pop, jazz, classical, western art music, experimental music, musical minimalism and electronic music all meet, and how they can blurr into an indistinguishable mess. Perhaps we're too close to the music, time-wise, to be able to clearly pick apart the genre distinctions.
In any case, there's clearly some cross-pollination between previously established genres happening here - and it seems to be a very good thing.
AL
Thursday, 16 February 2012
Muddy Modern Mahler
Let’s think about the aspects of modernity that we talked about in class today – a conspicuous sense of self-consciousness, an embracing of logic and the sciences, a rejection of formal or societal norms, and the striving for novelty. All of these characteristics can be construed as kind of wishy-washy. Take the acceptance of logic and the sciences, for example. This basic tenant of modernity seems to necessitate a rejection of the seemingly magical world of religion and spirituality; as Solvik points out, however, Mahler took science and the discovery of deeper biological and mechanical systems as proof of the spiritual realm, and of a connection between that and the physical world.
And there seems to be a direct connection between Mahler's beliefs and his contribution to the musical landscape of the late Romantic period. His second symphony, for example, deals extensively (musically, of course) with the prospect of life after death, eternal - that said, nobody is going to accuse Mahler's music of being unmodern because of this fact. Musically, it could be said to be quite modern - mixing song and symphonic form to break from formal norms, eschewing traditional harmonic progression, and often quoting his own music in later works (there's that conspicuous sense of self-consciousness).
So, like Solvik said, Mahler was a 'modern'. It was a complicated sort of modernity, but then in the perspective given in the reading there doesn't seem to be any other type.
[1] Go to Google, type define: search term. In this case you’re typing define: polyseme. This is my favourite function in Google, and it can be *very* handy.
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
Chopin and Liszt
I thought these strips on Chopin and Liszt were more or less related to the course material from the last week or two. I would encourage you to read more of these - she has some particularly funny strips on the Bronte sisters, as well as one on Beethoven.
Cheers!
AL
Thursday, 2 February 2012
Friday, 20 January 2012
19thC Orchestral and Chamber Music
Friday, 13 January 2012
Beethoven's 5th: Goblins and Shipwrecks
It will be generally admitted that Beethoven's Fifth Symphony is the most sublime noise that has ever penetrated into the ear of man. All sorts and conditions are satisfied by it. Whether you are like Mrs. Munt, and tap surreptitiously when the tunes come--of course, not so as to disturb the others--; or like Helen, who can see heroes and shipwrecks in the music's flood; or like Margaret, who can only see the music; or like Tibby, who is profoundly versed in counterpoint, and holds the full score open on his knee; or like their cousin, Fräulein Mosebach, who remembers all the time that Beethoven is "echt Deutsch"; or like Fräulein Mosebach's young man, who can remember nothing but Fräulein Mosebach: in any case, the passion of your life becomes more vivid, and you are bound to admit that such a noise is cheap at two shillings. It is cheap, even if you hear it in the Queen's Hall, dreariest music-room in London, though not as dreary as the Free Trade Hall, Manchester; and even if you sit on the extreme left of that hall, so that the brass bumps at you before the rest of the orchestra arrives, it is still cheap.
"Who is Margaret talking to?" said Mrs. Munt, at the conclusion of the first movement. She was again in London on a visit to Wickham Place.
Helen looked down the long line of their party, and said that she did not know.
"Would it be some young man or other whom she takes an interest in?"
"I expect so," Helen replied. Music enwrapped her, and she could not enter into the distinction that divides young men whom one takes an interest in from young men whom one knows.
"You girls are so wonderful in always having--Oh dear! one mustn't talk."
For the Andante had begun--very beautiful, but bearing a family likeness to all the other beautiful Andantes that Beethoven had written, and, to Helen's mind, rather disconnecting the heroes and shipwrecks of the first movement from the heroes and goblins of the third. She heard the tune through once, and then her attention wandered, and she gazed at the audience, or the organ, or the architecture. Much did she censure the attenuated Cupids who encircle the ceiling of the Queen's Hall, inclining each to each with vapid gesture, and clad in sallow pantaloons, on which the October sunlight struck. "How awful to marry a man like those Cupids!" thought Helen. Here Beethoven started decorating his tune, so she heard him through once more, and then she smiled at her cousin Frieda. But Frieda, listening to Classical Music, could not respond. Herr Liesecke, too, looked as if wild horses could not make him inattentive; there were lines across his forehead, his lips were parted, his pince-nez at right angles to his nose, and he had laid a thick, white hand on either knee. And next to her was Aunt Juley, so British, and wanting to tap. How interesting that row of people was! What diverse influences had gone to the making! Here Beethoven, after humming and hawing with great sweetness, said "Heigho," and the Andante came to an end. Applause, and a round of "wunderschöning" and "prachtvolleying" from the German contingent. Margaret started talking to her new young man; Helen said to her aunt: "Now comes the wonderful movement: first of all the goblins, and then a trio of elephants dancing;" and Tibby implored the company generally to look out for the transitional passage on the drum.
"On the what, dear?"
"On the drum, Aunt Juley."
"No; look out for the part where you think you have done with the goblins and they come back," breathed Helen, as the music started with a goblin walking quietly over the universe, from end to end. Others followed him. They were not aggressive creatures; it was that that made them so terrible to Helen. They merely observed in passing that there was no such thing as splendour or heroism in the world. After the interlude of elephants dancing, they returned and made the observation for the second time. Helen could not contradict them, for, once at all events, she had felt the same, and had seen the reliable walls of youth collapse. Panic and emptiness! Panic and emptiness! The goblins were right.
Her brother raised his finger: it was the transitional passage on the drum.
For, as if things were going too far, Beethoven took hold of the goblins and made them do what he wanted. He appeared in person. He gave them a little push, and they began to walk in major key instead of in a minor, and then--he blew with his mouth and they were scattered! Gusts of splendour, gods and demigods contending with vast swords, colour and fragrance broadcast on the field of battle, magnificent victory, magnificent death! Oh, it all burst before the girl, and she even stretched out her gloved hands as if it was tangible. Any fate was titanic; any contest desirable; conqueror and conquered would alike be applauded by the angels of the utmost stars.
And the goblins--they had not really been there at all? They were only the phantoms of cowardice and unbelief? One healthy human impulse would dispel them? Men like the Wilcoxes, or President Roosevelt, would say yes. Beethoven knew better. The goblins really had been there. They might return--and they did. It was as if the splendour of life might boil over--and waste to steam and froth. In its dissolution one heard the terrible, ominous note, and a goblin, with increased malignity, walked quietly over the universe from end to end. Panic and emptiness! Panic and emptiness! Even the flaming ramparts of the world might fall.
Beethoven chose to make all right in the end. He built the ramparts up. He blew with his mouth for the second time, and again the goblins were scattered. He brought back the gusts of splendour, the heroism, the youth, the magnificence of life and of death, and, amid vast roarings of a superhuman joy, he led his Fifth Symphony to its conclusion. But the goblins were there. They could return. He had said so bravely, and that is why one can trust Beethoven when he says other things.
Helen pushed her way out during the applause. She desired to be alone. The music summed up to her all that had happened or could happen in her career. She read it as a tangible statement, which could never be superseded. The notes meant this and that to her, and they could have no other meaning, and life could have no other meaning. She pushed right out of the building, and walked slowly down the outside staircase, breathing the autumnal air, and then she strolled home.
Good morning, on July 7
Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - I can live only wholly with you or not at all - Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits - Yes, unhappily it must be so - You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart - never - never - Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life - Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men - At my age I need a steady, quiet life - can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day - therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once - Be calm, only by a calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together - Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.
ever thine
ever mine
ever ours
