"a Simon Reynolds level culture blog" ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^"my brain thinks bloglike"
Sunday, December 07, 2014
mouth music # 29
Extended Voices is an apt title for this album, for the simple reason that all of the works here either extend the human voice physically or enlarge the performance situation of choral music.
In Pauline Oliveros’s jet-propelled Sound Patterns, the conductor deals with precise, difficult rhythmic structures that have many changes of tempo. The singers improvise pitches within broad areas of high, middle and low and are asked to produce a varied assortment of sounds, including whispers, tongue-clicks, lip-pops and finger-snaps. The vocal noises, along with tone clusters produced by the pitch improvisations, create a humorous, electronic effect.
In Robert Ashley’s She Was a Visitor, the performer finds himself in a decidedly different choral situation. The chorus is divided into groups, each headed by a leader. A lone speaker repeats the title sentence throughout the entire performance. The separate phonemes of this sentence are picked up freely by the group leaders and are relayed to the group members, who sustain them softly and for the duration of one natural breath. The time lag between the group leaders’ utterances and their pickup by the group members produces a staggered, chant-like effect, with the sounds moving outward from the nearest performer to the farthest. It is possible that in a concert performance, the audience could, with minimal instruction, also participate.
Christian Wolff in Cambridge by Morton Feldman is a simple, two-part work, consisting of a succession of chords and single notes sung quietly by the chorus. There is no text. The conductor chooses the duration of each sound on the basis of breath control and harmonic weight.
Chorus and Instruments (II), a longer work also by Morton Feldman, has alternating sections of free and strict tempos, plus the additional colors of tuba and chimes.
In Solos for Voice 2 by John Cage, each singer is asked to make their own realization of the piece, using material, including sheets of transparent plastic, supplied by the composer. By superimposing certain sheets on others, the singer determines several aspects of his vocal part, including vowel and consonant sounds, dynamics, approximate pitch areas and time decisions. The electronic version of this work was developed by Gordon Mumma and David Tudor. The singers’ sounds are picked up by several types of throat, lip and cup microphones, are fed into a complex configuration of electronic equipment and are then processed in real time during the performance. In the Ichyanagi work that gives this album its title, singers use musical instruments, such as slide whistles, to extend the range of their voices. At the same time, electronic instruments transform the voices in terms of timbre, range and dynamics. The written score consists mostly of sustained sounds and glissandos of varying lengths and speeds. The development of the material depends upon a cueing arrangement that instructs the singer to perform in relation to sounds he hears another performer make. Extended Voices also includes a prerecorded tape, composed of purely electronically produced sounds, that functions as complementary or accompaniment material.
The vocoder used in North American Time Capsule 1967 by Alvin Lucier was designed by Sylvania Electronics Systems to encode speech sounds into digital information bits for transmission over narrow band widths via telephone lines or radio channels. There is no written score for this work. The performers are asked to prepare material using any sounds at all that would describe to beings far from our environment either in space or in time the physical, spiritual, social, scientific or any other situation in which we currently find ourselves. The performers’ sounds are fed into the vocoder and are modified during the performance both by the sounds acting as control signals and by the manual alteration of the vocoder components.
-- from the liner notes by Alvin Lucier
Saturday, December 06, 2014
Thursday, December 04, 2014
The Empress, Unclothed?
I had been wondering to myself about the absence of dissenting views concerning the recent run of Kate Bush shows. About why were there so few chinks in the reigning consensus about Kate Bush as
National Treasure. Apart from a few grouches on Facebook - old punks who
never liked her at the time - I've not come across a peep of public negativity. The reviews seemed to be extravagantly praiseful. Personal testimonials on
Facebook and message boards and so forth were uniformly of the "greatest show I
ever saw in my life", "tears were running down my face for most of the performance" type.
Which is odd because one thing about the Internet surely is that it encourages contrarianism and dissenting views. Polarising stances and breaks with consensus drive traffic for online publications; comment boxes are the stomping ground of naysayers and nitpickers.
And then last weekend I got an email from my friend Sam Batra who mentioned in passing that she'd been to one of the the Bush concerts with her teenage daughter:
"What
a monumental disappointment. The show was little more than a prog rock Jackanory, wish I had never seen it and had saved ourselves the best part of
300 quid."
I laughed out loud. Partly because of the reference to Jackanory (a British kid-growing-up-in-the-70s/80s-only kind of thing, for sure). But also the shock of truth. See, I’m convinced
I would have felt exactly the same if I'd gone. Much as I love many of Kate Bush's recordings, and sort of generally support the notion of excess and aspiration, pretence and pretentiousness.... I've got to admit, some of the old videos, and the footage of the 1979 tour, it's a little hard to stomach, don't you think? The still photos of the current show, and some of the descriptions in the reviews, seemed to promise a similar sort of overblown, thesped-out hokum.
I asked Sam for more details of the disappointment:
"My
heart sunk right at the beginning when Kate and co 'conga-ed' onto the stage
like some waifs and strays from an office party. Still, I tried to rally and
remain optimistic. As things went on it seemed like the show was a vehicle for
middle aged release, as I looked around the audience, everyone obediently in
their seats, it struck me that some of these folk needed to get out more often.
Was it a collective amnesia about what really comprises a great gig?.... . In the second half, I cast a glance at [my 15 year old daughter] who was falling asleep.
"Kate
felt the need to plug her son, tell us all how much she loved him, 'more than
anything else in the world'. Son, Bertie had been given a lead role in the
excruciating panto. It did strike me that Bush had seen War Horse a few years
ago and had been hopelessly influenced by it.
".... I never want to hear
Aerial again...am so disappointed, she was such a heroine, wish this concert
had never happened to us."
Wish this concert had never happened to us - like it was a tragic accident, a personal calamity!
Dearie me. I'm laughing but I do a feel a pang of pecuniary empathy for Sam.
300 quid!
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