double tui

piano and ‘small orchestra’ of winds and percussion

~ ~ ~

the fantasy of being mobile

finds you cycling through the 

night to find the

dawn chorus

which turns out to be quite complicated

as the farewell symphony

{to the wondrous memory of maurice till -

a fantastically enabling and generous mentor}

~ ~ ~

double tui is part of a series of compositions i’ve written

with the subtitle 22 new zealand birds

MARK MENZIES 2012

I am nowhere nearly as hip as anyone else associated with wild Up, including the guy who tends the bar.  So when Chris contacted me about orchestrating some Andrew Bird songs I had to take an auditory crash-course through the artist’s body of work.  Fortunately, being a fan of acoustic indy pop in the Elliot Smith tradition and self-overdubbing madmen like Jon Brion, I found myself in familiar territory.  I immediately liked Bird’s sense of lyricism, his interesting spins on pop harmonies, and above all his distinctive chamber orchestrations.  This last presented an interesting challenge to an arranger; most orchestrations of pop tunes end up re-concieving the music from scratch, but in this case I’ve expanded the music’s existing orchestral elements, amplifying the big moments while bringing out the color and texture implicit in the songs.  That isn’t to say I didn’t add my own creative touches, but the transformation was prepared by Bird’s own instincts and groundwork.

I selected “Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left” and “Banking on a Myth” for arrangement because both were overtly melodic and divided into dramatically contrasting sections, which makes for fertile ground, orchestration-wise.  wild Up’s makeup is alluringly eclectic, offering less-common instruments like the contrabassoon and harmonium; I realized that these two songs would be well-served by the group’s rich and unusual acoustic palette.  Hope you enjoy!

Michael Gordon Shapiro writes music for film, television, video games, and the concert hall.  His concerto for orchestra and guzheng (Chinese zither) is about to have its digital album release via Hanyi Productions.  Visit Michael on the web at www.mikemusic.com .

I was browsing through a Charlie Parker tunebook to get some ideas for the upcoming wild Up concert when the title “Bird of Paradise” caught my eye.  To be honest I was originally interested because it reminded me of those amazing Planet Earth documentaries involving unique birds, but soon after the notes became attractive as well.  The tune has a simple four-bar melody played over a Db7 chord followed by a C7 chord, repeated once.  At the bottom of the page it says “Solo on ‘All the things you are’” (a tune by Jerome Kern) so in a nutshell “Bird of Paradise” is two chords, and a little melody.  What could be a better recipe for an elongated spectral haze of woodwinds and strings?
The Db7 and C7 chords Parker uses in his piano part take notes from the first 7 partials of their respective harmonic series. I’ve extended the note content up to the 16th partial, giving these chords rich microtonal harmonies. Playing with timbre and rhythm I’ve spread the notes throughout the orchestra, letting these two series exist and overlap over the period of six minutes.  
Who knows, maybe this is what it sounds like when the bird of paradise goes home to paradise…..


Archie Carey is a bassoonist, a composer, and a tree climber living in Los Angeles.
Much of his work uses field recordings, alternative tunings, and enlarged subtleties.  He has performed in Germany, Italy, Israel, China, and throughout the USA playing anything from Mozart to a metal plate with a contact microphone through distortion pedals. www.archiecarey.com

(Source: worldcat.org)

July has been busy. We’ve adopted a therapy dog (see below), we’ve been in programing meetings, scheduling meetings, development meetings, and scotch meetings (where we drink scotch). 

At any rate, we’re all over the place. Here’s some of it:

Chris Kallmyer has been at the Walker Art Museum in Minneapolis, for his new piece: The American Lawn and Ways to Cut It.  Last night, I called him and he answered: ” OH MY GOD, I’M PUSHING A LAWN MOWER, THERE ARE 300 OF US, OH MAN…I gotta go.” (click)

Andrew McIntosh played a night of Tom Johnson’s music at the wulf in preparation for an album he’s recording. 

Andrew Tholl is in “quals hell”… leave him alone. (he says)

Last week I was part of a panel at the Association of California Symphony Orchestras Convention, moderated by LACO Executive Director, Rachel Fine. Our discussion was about the direction of orchestra in the 21st century, new media, new concert formats, and young audiences. We fit in ok. It was a really fun discussion. 

And, this week… I got a job. As of September I’m the Director of Orchestras at University of California, Santa Barbara. I ate a quesadilla in celebration - here’s a photo to prove it:                                                  

This blog is coming from Verve Coffee in Santa Cruz. The Cabrillo Festival conductors workshop starts today, Alsop and Meier are teaching, it’s going to be rad.

See you in August,

COR

In attempting to review a concert like this one can only think:  what I just heard, what I just experienced, is more than enough to make language submit, revealing its futility and clumsiness - particularly in its written form.  Recalling Guildenstern’s pondering from Tom Stoppard’s play, though, it is verily so:  “Words, words.  They’re all we have to go on.”

How does one write about the experience of hearing Morton Feldman’s epic masterpiece for Philip Guston?  Well for starters, it was performed Sunday night at The Wulf.  I suppose I could also tell you, if you don’t already know about the piece, it is one of three late trios Feldman wrote for these instruments.  After Why Patterns? (1978) and Crippled Symmetry (1981) which last about 40 minutes and 90 minutes, respectively, for Philip Guston (1984) clocks in at an impressive 270 minutes - that’s 4.5 hours, give or take.  Actually, the word “impressive” doesn’t really convey the scale of this music, but we’ve already accepted that.

Perhaps it would be easiest to begin with the performers.  Flutist Rachel Beetz, percussionist Dustin Donahue, and pianist Martin Hiendl are all students at UCSD, and they have shown once again that some truly marvelous work is being done at that school.  They have been preparing the piece since last October, putting in an astounding number of hours of work, and it showed.  Sunday night was their second live performance after recently recording the piece.  Epic proportions and metaphysical observations included, the three musicians had an incredible understanding of the needs and wants of the music as well as each other (in addition to some good ol’ chops).  The temperamentally unique piano of the venue, the mildly battered celesta, and the borrowed chimes added to the originality of the performance, subtly stating the beautiful singularity of the event for everyone involved.   Breathing as one, moving in the most elegantly economical ways, the trio provided the perfect conduit for Feldman’s musical thoughts.

And what was conveyed?

Sonic tapestries of structure and anarchy
Resonant teachings in emotion and apathy
Displayed through a medley of fanfares and requiems
from the kingdoms and cathedrals
of every microcosmic particle in the universe,
Each conveying, in their unique languages and styles,
their own understanding of what it is to listen, to be a part of something
To have community
And to be alone
Summarily forming an important question:
Who are you and what do you love?

…among other things.

The best I can do as a reviewer is encourage - or is it entreat? - you to experience something like this for yourself (if you haven’t already).  Attend a future performance of the work by this group.  Or in any event, experience something by people with people who love music and the lessons we learn from it - but it has to be really, really long.

~ Richard Valitutto

Yes, it is possible to hear a good performance of high caliber music and musicians for cheap.

This coming Wednesday, June 22 at 8 p.m., you can hear a solidly full program of new and recent music at the illustrious Royal/T Café in Culver City.  It is part of the $2 Shows recently instated New Music Series, and as advertised, the admission is indeed only TWO DOLLARS (i.e. practically free) and a donation of any item which can be used by the Harmony Project (more info on the facebook event page below).

There will be performances of compositions by Andrew McIntosh, David Johnson, Luciano Berio, Daniel Corral, and Edison Denisov.  Performers include members of wild Up.

Here are some links:

facebook Event Page - $2 Shows Homepage - $2 Shows facebook Page

-Richard Valitutto

A few weeks ago I went to see Christian Marclay’s new work, The Clock, at LACMA.  A departure from his more well known role as a sound artist/turntablist, Marclay’s The Clock is a 24 hour film, synchronized to the local time of the location at which it is screening.  It is a collection of brief moments from thousands of films, assembled into a narrative which seemingly places time itself as the main character.  Every single moment is related in some way to time, and as such, the viewer is unable to avoid thinking about the passing seconds.  Suspense begins to be built upon the minute hand, with a series of climaxes occurring every hour on the hour.  For someone obsessed with the concept of passing time (like myself), it’s a pretty awesome experience.

What Marclay has created is essentially a cinematic mash-up.  Despite the fact that the medium is film, it is still composed like a piece of music.  He is sampling video rather than audio, but they’re still samples and they function in the same way.  Seeing a “sample” you recognize brings in a flood of personal associative meanings and their juxtaposition creates new connections between them. I suspect that this results in each viewer having a rather unique viewing experience.  It’s like the visual equivalent of a Girl Talk song.  I may recognize half the samples, while you recognize a completely different set of samples, and thus, the work can mean one thing for you and another thing for me.

The film was shown in its entirety during its opening weekend, and is currently screening during museum hours until July 31st. LACMA has also just announced that the film will be shown again from beginning to end on Thursday July 28th starting at 5:00p.m.  The screening will take place in the Bing Theater and is free (seating on a first come first serve basis).  More info can be found here.

-Andrew Tholl

Many folks weighed in late last week about the tuxedo via twitter.  I had a hard time getting out some of these thoughts in 140 characters, so decided to write up some of my ideas here.  I hope you enjoy, its a great discussion. 

The orchestra is a gigantic, antiquated, hulking, financially unsustainable, mannered, ceremonious, unapproachable, beautiful, opulent, complicated beast.  Its like a manatee; too big, too slow, too cool, and will probably be hit by a boat.  But I love the orchestra.  I can barely imagine another dress that would be fitting for such a group. The tuxedo is the anachronistic costume for an institution teetering on the brink of cultural irrelevancy.  Why shouldn’t they wear equally irrelevant dress? 

The tuxedo shows a graciousness that is often lacking in the presentation of music.  There is a generosity in preparing music for another person.  In essence, you say, “this is important to me, and I’ve taken the time to share it with you.”  Conversely, the audience//listener is gracious in their gift of attention and focus on the sounds presented.  On one hand, no amount of polyester tails will create this relationship for you.  On another hand, there is a generosity and recognition of the gravity of the situation when you dress in such formalwear.  That being said, I don’t think that people always want//need gravity or recognition.  I think people want to have an everyday interaction with sound in their lives, and the antiquated nature of formalwear says “this is not for everyday.”  Then, how do we move forward to create art that can be with people in their normal lives? 

I do believe that new music needs new dress. I dress with respect for the music and my audience, but it would be disingenuous to show up in tails.  Simply, its not me.   However, the experience of playing music for other people is more about sharing, empathy, and presence of mind (rather than an implicit high-society interaction that appears with the tux.)  The present moment is reachable when a listener is comfortable and willing to give their time to a sound.  This is the only prerequisite for experiencing great music: open generosity of attention.  Additionally, if we create music in our present place, present culture, and present time I believe we should wear whatever that time//place//culture asks us to wear.  At wildUp, we play music to our peers; our local coffee shop owners, visual artists, designers, accountants, waiters, etc… and fellow musicians.  My bet is to dress like my audience, my friends, my peers. I am a member of my community and i would like to share some sounds with my neighbors. 

thanks. 

-Chris Kallmyer 

The obligatory titular capitals of the event’s ensemble and venue could not be more appropriate for last night’s performance.  From beginning to end, PARTCH exclaimed, cursed, laughed, wailed, and cavorted through several varied scores by the “iconoclastic American Maverick” Harry Partch (1901-1974).  PARTCH, led by guitarist/composer/singer/radio-personality John Schneider, have been spreading the gospel of Partch since their REDCAT debut in 2004.

The group is playing the same program tonight (Saturday 6/11), so you can still catch it.  For tickets to the concert, visit: http://www.redcat.org/event/partch-2

The pre-concert atmosphere in REDCAT was even more casual than usual.  Covering the stage were the beautiful replicas of Partch’s original, handcrafted instruments and the band was basically just milling around.  The lights suddenly dimmed and several audience members quickly dove into their seats as the musicians likewise dove into the rambunctious and engaging Castor & Pollux (1952), a pair of pieces for Kithara, Cloud Chamber Bowls, Harmonic Canon, Bass Marimba, and Diamond Marimba (all shown above).  The two pieces are each in four movements with the same titles, “Insemination”, “Conception”, “Incubation”, and “Delivery”.  Relating to the mythical birth of the Gemini twins, this carnal imagery is even more appropriate to the music itself; the rhythmic and harmonic language of this music is equally intoxicating and sensuous.  The programmatic arc of music that followed Castor & Pollux was well-conceived and satisfying, as well as quite informative to the uninitiated Partch-lover or microtonalist - the “informing” mostly due to the short, enjoyable documentary film Music Studio (1958, Madelaine Tourtelot) shown before intermission.

Up until the Partch classic Barstow (1941/3), which ended the program, the other pieces were more intimate.  With the geniality and nonchalance of a home concert, John Schneider accompanied himself on Adapted Viola (Partch’s first foray into instrument building) while singing excerpts from the early Li Po Lyrics (Partch’s first foray into composing).  After intermission, we were treated to the chamber-jazz adventure Ulysses Departs from the Edge of the World (1955), which featured Josh Aguiar performing the trumpet part originally written for Chet Baker.  Though Chet never performed the piece, Josh convincingly stood in his stead with a sound that was caressingly warm.  This was followed by two more works featuring “intoning voice”: the mischievous and whimsical Two Settings from Lewis Carroll (1954) and the grotesque Potion Scene from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet (1931) for voice and Adapted Viola.  The latter was definitely the dramatic high-point of the evening, with Argenta Walther and Andrew McIntosh masterfully merging their parts to form the sonic essence of Juliet’s doubting, fearful soul which came oozing through the air.  As a mitigating factor, Barstow came immediately after, featuring various members of the ensemble singing the texts by hitchhiker graffiti artists, mostly with a comic air.

As my first live PARTCH experience, I found the concert quite fulfilling.  After bobbing my head to the infectious rhythms, smiling at the fascinating Chromolodeon harmonies, and laughing along with John Schneider’s Adapted Guitar in Barstow, the question posed in the last song fit the evening’s free-spirit mood, with a thumb of the nose and a pat on the back: “Why in Hell did you Come, anyway?”

-Richard Valitutto