Undersound review

Jason Eckardt

Undersong

Fred Sherry, cello; International Contemporary Ensemble; Steven Schick, conductor

Mode Records CD 234

Composer Jason Eckardt is one of a small but growing number of composers adopting the aesthetic viewpoint of "Second Modernity." Briefly described, this approach involves a renewed embrace of abundant virtuosity, compositional and conceptual rigor, and dedicated exploration of new playing techniques and interdisciplinary applications in contemporary music. All of this may sound like a very intellectual approach to an artistic discipline. But Eckardt's music is anything but sterile. Instead, it is kinetic and vigorous, as inspired by the enthusiasm for heavy metal with which he began his musical journey as it is by the top notch players who now champion his work.

Indeed, one couldn't ask for better advocates in this repertory than the ones appearing on Undersound, Eckardt's latest release Mode release. This group of pieces, based on Laura Mullen's text of the same name, is thematically unified by the concepts of decrying oppression, corruption, and dispossession. Its cornerstone work The Distance features Mullen's words sung by soprano Tony Arnold, who negotiates its high tessitura, extensive chromaticism, and angular melismas with a graceful fluidity that few other vocalists can muster in such challenging fare. Simply put, she's a rock star in this genre. Her accompanists - stars in their own right - are members of the International Contemporary Ensemble, conducted by Steven Schick. Their performance exudes a confidence that belies the myriad challenges that they face when realizing Eckardt's score.

ICE flutist Claire Chase is also featured in two other works on the disc. "16" references the sixteen regrettable words in G.W. Bush's 2003 State of the Union address (those about WMD in Iraq): words that helped to later cause so many recriminations and, worse yet, casualties. Parlando techniques, breathy attacks, and stuttered mouth sounds turn the flute into a metaphorical mouthpiece for troubled communication. It is accompanied by percussive attacks and furtive gestures from a string trio. Chase' playing bridges the gap between these deliberately halting sounding effects and fetching, albeit fleeting, snatches of melody, as if yearning for an eloquence that, in this score, is deliberately avoided.

Meanwhile, on Aperture, Chase is part of a Pierrot ensemble in a work that indulges both the noise and effects end of the sound spectrum as well as more pitch focused passages. Sustained single lines are pitted against pointillist excursions and busily angular sections. The whole creates a diverse, labyrinthine compositional architecture, full of twists and turns and engaging surprises.

Cellist Fred Sherry performs the glissando-filled and devilishly tricky solo  A Way (Tracing) with characteristic flair, attacking its quickly evolving formal terrain with mercurial suavity.

Undersong is a mind-blowing and aesthetics-expanding journey. Recommended.

CD Review: Aidan Baker, "Still Life"

Aidan Baker

Still Life

Prima CD 002

Aidan Baker is probably best known for his soundscapes that involve droning guitars and ample distortion. But this time out, on his Prima full length Still Life, the Toronto native left the guitars at home altogether. Instead, he performs all of the instruments himself, focusing on piano, electronic manipulations, upright bass, and drums.

Still Life contains four compositions, each exceeding ten minutes in duration, that combine the gradual, inexorable drive of slowcore with inflections of a modern jazz rhythm section and flourishes of avant-classical. Baker doesn't shy away from crunching dissonance where required. A signature example is the opening of "Refuge from Oblivion," where cascades of punctilious piano disrupt the calm surface that pervaded the previous track.

Often, multiple layers of rhythm compete for supremacy, creating a multifaceted, but never cluttered, interplay. All the while, there is a slow-brewing underlying pulse that undergirds the whole with a supply architectural sensibility.

Artists seeking to combine experimental music and jazz should take note of Aidan's fluent amalgamations.

Art vs. Music

David Stubbs

Fear of Music: Why People Get Rothko but don't get Stockhausen

Zero Books

David Stubbs is a wide-ranging cultural commentator; he writes about sports, film, and literature as well as music. Stubbs' book Fear of Music discusses the perception gap between modern art and modern music. Why is it that collectors will shell out millions of dollars for avant-garde visual art while avante-garde music is still so widely derided?

The old saw regarding the issue of art vs. music appreciation is that time is the deciding factor. Stubbs acknowledges the potency of this argument; as he points out, one can look at the Rothko Room for five minutes and then head off to a café, but many Stockhausen works requires hours of a listener's time. But the author also crafts a persuasive case for consumer consumption of art objects as increasing their palatability with the public. With no easy way to create coveted musical artifacts in this era of file-sharing and digital distribution, it's easy to see music being increasingly thought by the masses of as free, disposable, and even 'unnecessary.” All the while, visual artists are able to monetize their wares with, in some cases, alarming audacity. Stubbs is able to negotiate the delicate issues of the duality between visual and performing arts with deft, knowledgeable, and subtle commentary.

Fear of Music also serves as an excellent primer on music outside the mainstream. At 135 pages, the appearance of this slender volume is deceiving. Stubbs covers a tremendous amount of musical terrain, eloquently expounding on such varied subjects as post-punk, futurism, Dada, Sun Ra, free jazz, Derek Bailey, and Webern. Indeed, the book is an excellent primer for anyone looking to take a subscription to avant-garde music journal The Wire, a periodical to which Stubbs frequently contributes. Indeed, Fear of Music is apt to bring more than a few music lovers further outside the mainstream in their listening habits.