ALBUM REVIEW: Kronos Quartet and Aleksandra Vrebalov: The Sea Ranch Songs

Posted on November 14, 2016 by maestrobeats

In Aleksandra Vrebalov’s The Sea Ranch Songs, the Kronos Quartet takes us on a tour of a special natural landscape that is breathtakingly beautiful and profoundly personal. The Sea Ranch, stretching for ten miles along the northern California coast, is an area defined both by stunning natural beauty and the carefully-planned developments that house its stewards, the Sea Ranch Association. Founded in 1965, the area recently celebrated its 50th anniversary as a community “dedicated to living, building, and interacting with its surroundings in harmonious and responsible ways.”

What an amazing subject for a piece of music! This album makes the fullest use of its subject matter, giving us both a sound recording and a DVD of an artistic film created by Andrew Lyndon set to the music. Vrebalov composed thirteen songs for Kronos Quartet, using audio of personal testimonials from permanent residents of Sea Ranch and those who have made the curation and development of this unique place their work. For my journey through this music, I chose the film, which uses scenes shot on location at the Sea Ranch and a small amount of stylized animation.

All photos credit No Ordinary Resort.

The opening shot of a patch of grass with faraway sea sounds actually seems somewhat plain at the outset, but the frank depiction of this unremarkable part of the landscape scene soon makes sense. A heavily processed recording of the singing of First Nations people is the first form of music we hear, an homage to the Kashia-Pomo Indians that were Sea Ranch’s first residents. The entrance of the quartet is stark and imposing, and the video here is heavily edited, re-colored, and distorted, creating mystic images. As the video returns to its opening shot of grass, each blade seems to have taken on spiritual significance.

The second track, “Fort Ross Chorale,” provides immediate contrast and introduces us to the frontier-like architecture of the settlements. The chorale-like music seems honest and practical. In the third song, “Gratitude,” we hear the voices of Sea Ranch residents, speaking of the natural beauty and inspirational qualities of the landscape, with music from the quartet growing more romantic and swelling with pride and nostalgia. The fourth song’s pizzicato throughout is the perfect accompaniment to recordings of navigational coordinates being read, a sort of laundry list of figures describing the area’s features with scientific precision. Footage of a pristine white barn is the centerpiece for the video of “Numbers,” a musical quantification of the Sea Ranch settlement. Blueprints are the visual focus of the fifth song, “Ideas: Condominium One,” where an architect talks of unique designs for long-roofed, lean-to-like structures. Long notes and electrified sounds from the quartet reflect the designs and huge expanse of the Sea Ranch environment.

The sixth through thirteenth songs reflect on the beauty and motion of the natural landscape, and the spiritual connection Sea Ranchers have with it. Swooping melodic slides in the Kronos violins in “Creatures” are accompanied by video of diving seabirds, and shots of wildlife interlocking with video of underwater fauna. Music with beautiful, open chordal textures plays against spiritual, stained-glass-like imagery in “Chapel, Rainbows,” where we see the sea and its wildlife through the lens of human religious constructs. The eighth song is perhaps the most pure fun to listen to: fast, minor music in the form of an aria and accompaniment set to video of crashing waves and flocks of birds constantly changing direction. The relentlessness of the melody and arpeggiated cello figures in this song, “Elements I,” seem to portray the motion of nature, both free and monotonous. In “Starry Night,” we hear the pitter-patter of ponticello ricochet with twinkling imagery of the night sky. The contemporary-sounding techniques are fascinating here, and mix with electronics to portray the vast expanse of a cosmic light show.

Lyrical music full of counterpoint tells the story of hard work and tired hands in “Ideas: Barn Fugue,” with accompanying testimonials of Sea Ranch barn-builders. An actual recording of coyotes is the arresting sound of “Spirit II,” with a lonely, reverberant piano sound portraying the emptiness of the night. The violin solo that opens the twelfth song, “Elements II,” is expressive and virtuosic, adorned with double stops and sweeping melody. It precedes a chaotic duet, trio, then quartet, with imagery of frothing water and crashing waves. Vrebalov saves the most heartfelt music for the final song, which begins on a pastoral drone against a static shot of the sunset over crashing waves. The music of “Gratitude, Coda” embodies the calmness and fullness of the feelings related in testimonials by Sea Ranch residents, detailing joyous childhood memories and descriptions of their harmonious relationship with nature. There is so much contained in that static shot, and so much about this final music that is profoundly comforting. The virtuosic frenzy of rising figuration that ends the songs in a flourish of leaping water is a complete surprise. That final flourish might be a shock, but it seems to sum up the great musical depth and ability of the vessel for our journey, the fantastic Kronos Quartet, who have created yet another special musical offering of tremendous scope and ambition in collaboration with Aleksandra Verbalov and Andrew Lyndon.

ALBUM REVIEW: Andy Meyerson’s “My Side of the Story”

Posted on November 7, 2016 by maestrobeats

by Seth Tompkins

mysideofthestory

On its face, Andy Meyerson’s new album My Side of the Story does not have an obvious message or agenda. That’s ok; most albums don’t. However, as the album progresses, a distinct overarching narrative emerges. The story is not specific and it makes no grandiose statements. However, it does make for a superb listening experience. Each of the five selections on this release are not only fabulous on their own, but are elevated and intensified when taken together in order. This is a laudable feat – one not achieved by many new releases of contemporary classical music. This success is directly related to a specific thread of continuity that runs from beginning to end.

The continuity that binds My Side of the Story is mostly manifested in the fact that four of these five pieces have a “turn”- that is, a moment when the mood of the piece shifts suddenly and reveals something new. These similar shifts in four wildly different pieces stich this release together. These moments pull back curtains revealing new landscapes. These artesian revelations come, of course, in the context of what came before, thrusting listeners forward and creating an experience that becomes a journey, rather than just a session.

Adrian Knight’s Humble Servant, the first track on this album, stands out for beauty achieved through economy. This is just good orchestration, plain and simple. The vibraphone can sound dated and cheesy, but here its unmistakable sound is used effectively, melodramatic overtones and all. Knight does use the over-the-top emotional connotations conjured up by the vibraphone, but, in sticking to a responsibly confined mode of expression, does not let the melodrama take over. In fact, the emotional connotations of the vibes become a positive aspect of this track, signaling the underlying emotion of the topic at hand (tragic death) while the composer’s skill keeps the potential hokeyness reigned in. Also, the extra-slow speed setting of the vibraphone’s motor allows each pitch to be heard and considered individually. This supports the inward-looking and pensive nature of this track.

Samuel Carl Adams’s Percussion Music for Robert and Andy starts out as an apparently straightforward contemporary work for mixed percussion ensemble. However, at a certain point, the overriding acoustic textures gradually give way to a transformative electro-pop-inspired sound palette that leads in a completely new and unexpected direction. Originally composed for a solo dance performance by San Francisco-based Post:Ballet, the live performance of this piece must have been revelatory.

Jude Traxler’s Structural Harm marks the beginning of the experimental section of this album, blurring the line between composer and performer. While Traxler assembled the final product, the performance by Meyerson was executed with little input from the composer. Meyerson improvised on MIDI-connected triggers to create the bones of the piece, to which Traxler later assigned sounds and rendered audible in production. The result is pleasant and interesting. This is music that was clearly not designed for an acoustic listening environment – and that’s ok. Structural Harm’s interaction of rhythmic exploration with a gently gradient of purity of sound yields a fascinating matrix.

Continuing in an experimental direction, Brendon Randall-Myers’s piece Sherlock Horse: Disintegration Machine is for solo “suitcase drum kit” and production. This piece fits into the tradition of music for acoustic instruments and “tape.” While music in that format often seems to be a dusty relic of 1980s university music programs, this piece happily places the format in the present. Many of the electronic sounds used would not be out of place in punk, rap or indie-pop music. These pleasantly fresh sounds place this piece squarely in the modern-day, despite its connection to the more staid traditions of some electroacoustic music. The only piece without a clear “turn” on this album, this work represents the height of drama in the larger arc of this album.

After the increasingly wayward tack of the previous four pieces, Danny Clay’s May you find what you’re looking for and remember what you have feels, at first, like returning home. However, as the piece progresses, experimental elements reappear and build to a climax unlike anything else on this album. After this sonic Rubicon, the mellow sounds of homecoming return, to be later rejoined with some of the complexities from earlier in this piece. The effect here is the following message: “Everything is okay. Things might not be the way you thought they were – they might be much more complicated and messy. But that doesn’t matter, because everything is going to be alright in the end.”

Only after experiencing the final track does the overarching narrative of this album become clear. Throughout My Side of the Story, the increasingly complex and adventurous sound explorations return to a point of equilibrium, creating at once a sense of peace and a deeper comfort with a more diverse ecosystem of sounds. My Side of the Story will stretch the ears of some listeners, but will reward those challenges with a deep satisfaction that comes after the narrative arc of this album becomes clear. That said, it bears repeating: this release should be experienced as the “album” that it truly is. Do yourself a favor and listen to this in one sitting. Your ears will thank you.

ALBUM REVIEW: Olafur Arnalds’ Island Songs

Posted on October 31, 2016 by maestrobeats

by Rachele Hales

olafur_arnalds_-_island_songs_-_credit_marino_thorlacius_1

There is a tourism boom in Iceland, but those of us who cannot make it there in person should be glad for Ólafur Arnalds’ Island Songs project, which is designed to offer an aural journey through the lesser travelled landscapes with guidance from the locals who live there.

Arnalds starts us off in a church on a hillside in Hvammstangi, a remote town on the shore of an inlet. This is where poet & collaborator Einar Georg Einarsson comes to escape his everyday worries and explore creativity through writing. Einarsson begins “Árbakkinn” with a recitation of one of his own poems; a poem about the landscape he painted his childhood against. As Arnalds joins him with a tranquil piano and the strings eventually drift in it’s easy to imagine a restful day in Hvammstangi, with the easy flow of the nearby stream and a handful of small fishing boats bobbing in the nearby fjord.

He packs up his bags and heads five hours northwest to Önundarfjörður, a town surrounded by mountains and valleys where the winters are harsh. In 1995, a disastrous avalanche killed many people in a small village nearby. “1995” was recorded in a church with a memorial stone outside in remembrance of the villagers whose lives were lost. Here, Arnalds collaborates with his cousin, Dagny Arnalds. She plays the organ in a looping, funereal piece.

Arnalds spent week 3 in ”The Church of Sailors,” a small stave church situated on an isolated landscape near the ocean. “Raddir” is the first of two island songs that uses vocals. Arnalds has teamed up with conductor Hilmar Örn Agnarsson and composer Georg Kári Hilmarsson to create a celestial work for choir. I have not mentioned the accompanying videos to the Island Songs project until this point. I do it now to prove that I don’t use the word “celestial” carelessly. In Baldvin Z’s video, the camera pans a circle around the church and catches the sun filtering through the church windows, projecting dozens of tiny rainbows onto the walls. This, accompanied by the choir’s otherworldly harmonies, definitely left this viewer with the feeling of transcendence.

Week five. We’re in Mosfellsdalur now. I will point you again toward Baldvin’s companion video, this time to “Dalur” — the look on Arnalds’ face at the very end of the song says more than I could put into words.

Is it the lamp of Garður’s’ lighthouse that lured Arnalds to his sixth destination in as many weeks or the siren call of Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir, lead vocalist for Of Monsters and Men? Spoiler alert: Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir. One hundred percent. It’s inside a lighthouse on Garður’s’ wind-battered waterfront where Arnalds records his penultimate island song, “Particles.” No surprise it’s as tender and vulnerable as the first five. Hilmarsdóttir’s voice carries a quiet power and is joined by violin, cello, and of course Arnalds on piano. “Particles” captures the same mood as the rest of the album but Hilmarsdóttir’s vocals perk up the ears and make this composition a little extra special.

In Baldvin’s video, many of the friends Arnalds made during his road trip gather to hear him play the last piece of this project, “Doria,” in Arnalds’ own hometown of Reykjavik. It’s week 7, and they form a half moon around the pianist on the floor of a concert hall in the only video in which he is center stage. Encompassed by the people who have inspired him along the way, he closes out Island Songs with pleasant piano loops. His perfect goodnight kiss.

In every Island Songs composition it’s clear this was a passion project for Arnalds. By choosing to honor the sacred relationship between people and their communities he has illustrated a versatile portrait of Iceland and the stories it has to tell. He doesn’t introduce us to rock stars or Iceland’s tourist attractions, but offers instead the chance to meet the people who serve their communities and treats us to sparse, serene music that mirrors the terrain he set out to explore. Island Songs is beauty, focus, and hushed Icelandic panoramas. It is superb.

olafurrweek1

STAFF PICKS: Friday Faves

Posted on October 28, 2016 by maestrobeats

Second Inversion hosts share a favorite selection from their playlist. Tune in during the indicated hours below on Friday, October 28 to hear these pieces. In the meantime, you’ll hear other great new and unusual music from all corners of the classical genre 24/7!

William Brittelle: High Done Know Why To (New Amsterdam Records)

Whenever I need a random boost of energy, there’s a high likelihood I’ll reach for this track. From the get-go, the “HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGH” and rhythmic vocal sounds send me into a goofy, bouncy side-to-side chair dance. From there, the smooth, gliding soprano vocals interspersed with pointillistic staccatos mingle with the forthcoming endless variety in the rest of the track. It’s just SO GOOD and totally pumps me up. (PS William Brittelle is a master of quirk in his titles. Other favorites include “Hey Panda” “Them’s Lasers” and “Catwalk to the Multiplex.”) – Maggie Stapleton

Tune in to Second Inversion in the 11am hour today to hear this piece.

Timothy Johnson: debussy in abstract (self-released)

A few years ago, composer and pianist Timothy Johnson asked the simple question “What if Debussy were a minimalist?” This piece is the answer he provided. This music contains the soothing sounds of Debussy, but has a strong flavor of the “furniture music” of Erik Satie. This is music that will almost certainly improve your mood, even if you forget that it is happening. Push play on this track and let it transport you to a less anxious place. – Seth Tompkins

Tune in to Second Inversion in the 1pm hour today to hear this piece.

Poppy Nogood: Music for Mourning: V. it’s cloudy outside (Preserved Sound)

This ambient piece is the closing track of Poppy Nogood’s album Music For Mourning, which seeks to explore the phases of loss. In the movement “it’s cloudy outside” Nogood uses his piano as an emotional rake, collecting denial, anger, bargaining and depression into a tidy pile of gentle, foggy acceptance that unfurls inside your ears. Nogood has approached mourning with grace, tenderness, and, perhaps most importantly, tact. It’s beautiful. – Rachele Hales

Tune in to Second Inversion in the 5pm hour today to hear this piece.

ALBUM REVIEW: The Westerlies

Posted on October 24, 2016 by maestrobeats

by Seth Tompkins

The Westerlies’ eponymous sophomore album is unified by a clarity of purpose and a distinctive sonic palette. The overall effect of this release is one of harmony and serene simplicity. In fact, this album is so consistently styled and masterfully produced that it could be easy to miss the ingenious subtleties and careful construction that underpin the simple beauty of this release. That would be unfortunate, because to miss the subtleties in these 17 tracks is to miss the potential lasting impact of this album.

It is difficult talk about The Westerlies without mentioning the album’s distinctive sound. Despite differences between tracks, the sound of this album is remarkably consistent from track to track, creating a satisfying unity that runs from beginning to end.

The chief element in this unity of sound is the types of articulations The Westerlies have chosen to use. This is not to say that the articulations are uniform across the album; quite the opposite is true! Within just the first few tracks, the wide variety of articulations varies from mellow to aggressive and from bright and insistent to smooth and nonchalant. However, despite this obvious prowess, the group does manage to create a unified sound through articulation alone. This is mostly accomplished through their heavy reliance on a specific articulation: a somewhat soft, breathy, but very consistent sound that is reminiscent Stan Getz. This particular sound is one that guides the listener through the entire album. While not a sound that may be familiar top all listeners, by the end of the second disc, it seems like an old friend.

sa46c18-r01-005_ed_csashaarutyunova2015_web

Photo Credit: Sasha Arutyunova

The most outstanding specific sonic element on this disc is the way in which the group has handled the bass. Despite the trombone usually being a “bright” instrument, through smart microphone placement and expert execution, The Westerlies have coaxed an incredibly broad array of bass sounds out of the humble trombone. In many sections, the bass sounds as if it being produced by a euphonium, tuba, or even an electronic bass instrument. There are also moments when the bass sound is pure trombone. The staggeringly wide range of bass sounds The Westerlies include on this release is worthy of high praise, especially as it is apparently achieved with little or no digital alteration.

Another notable element of the sound world of this album is the group’s use of extended techniques. The noodling, the screeching, the growling, and related sounds make frequent appearances on this release. However, instead of the intrusive gimmicks these techniques can sometimes be, here they serve only to color and shade the unified sonic world the group has created. In many instances, these unusual sounds blend so well with the main textures of the music that they may pass unnoticed as they sculpt the soundscape. In many spots on this release, these effects take the place of electronic effects; there are many moments when what sounds like a digital alteration is actually being created live via the acoustic instruments of the group through these deftly executed special techniques.

The apparent lack of digital enhancements on this release is one of its chief merits. Through the use of extended techniques, savvy microphone placement, and top-notch engineering, The Westerlies and their producer, Jesse Lewis, have managed to create a collection of sounds that in many other cases would require a great deal of computerized hocus-pocus. And beyond that, they have managed to do it in a way that is not the least bit self-righteous. They are not shoving the fact that they are mostly acoustic in our faces; acoustic is simply the way their music exists.

Photo Credit: Michael George

A secondary aspect of the laudable lack of digital trickery on this release is the freedom the group takes with letting some of the “uglier” sounds of brass playing bleed through. In many spots, edgy sounds come through that some producers might want to keep off their finished products. In other places, the sound of these muscular instruments can be heard bouncing of the wall and ceiling of the recording space. The fact that these peripheral brass sounds made it onto the final album is evidence that this group has done some deep soul-searching on the true nature of brass playing. Much like their choice to stick with a mostly-acoustic sound, The Westerlies’ choice to include some of these realistic sounds onto the album shows that they are not interested in the expectations of anyone else; they are thinking for themselves and forging their own path.

Perhaps one reason The Westerlies chose to build the sonic world of this release with the above elements is that they see their group as primarily a live acoustic ensemble, even in the context of a studio recording. Few, if any, of the tracks on this release would be difficult for the group to recreate in a live setting, and the live performance would likely sound much like the album, including sounds of “the room” and many of realistic sounds of live brass playing that are often omitted in commercial recordings. If this is indeed the case, this is an integrity move and their audience is better for it.

The compositions themselves also warrant praise. Much like the delicious balance between varied and unified articulations and colors throughout the album, the pieces themselves represent a diverse, yet broadly unified element that ties the entire release together. All the compositions on this release save three are by The Westerlies themselves. While there are moments of raucousness and unique diversions that occur frequently among these compositions, the overall effect is similar to that of the soundscape that pervades the album; the pieces have enough in common that they hang together remarkable well. Hopefully, these overarching unities bode well for the future of the ensemble, signaling that the quartet is bonded in a way that will afford them fruitful collaboration for years to come.

Photo Credit: Michael George

Finally, the three compositions not by The Westerlies must be considered. It is a fascinating trio of pieces: one traditional tune (arranged by Nico Muhly and Sam Amidon), a Duke Ellington tune, and a piece by Charles Ives. There might be myriad reasons why the quartet chose these three, but it seems that the most likely plan is this: these tunes give just enough context to convince a skeptical listener to buy into this genre-defying acoustic quartet. Also, one jazz tune, one “modern” piece of classical music, and one traditional hymn-like tune are an excellent representation of the background that most classical-trained brass players have. Whether these tunes are intended to provide context for the new music on the album, or are a nod to the background of the quartet members, or are simply included because the quartet likes them, they are woven with the same delicious technique and careful construction as the rest of the release.

The Westerlies is an album with two layers of existence. It is at once a plainly beautiful release shot through with genius technique and considerate musical planning, and an innovative exploration into what the future of acoustically-driven music could be. The fearless choices The Westerlies have made on this release lead the way for acoustic music in the face of an increasingly computerized musical landscape, while at the same time creating a sublime listening experience that can be enjoyed for its simplicity and peace.

the-westerlies-album-cover-full-640x576