I've listened to three recordings now: Kroumata Percussion Ensemble (1990), Red Fish Blue Fish/Steven Schick (2007), and the Strasbourg (86). Interesting that none of them exactly follow either of the two possible orderings that Harley says X allowed!:
The composer allows for two different orderings of the movements: (1) Claviers—Peaux—Métaux—Mélanges; and (2) Mélanges—Claviers—Métaux—Peaux.
The Strasbourg and RFBF recordings reverse the order of "Claviers" and "Métaux" in (2). Kroumata do it Métaux-Claviers-Mélanges-Peaux (which kind of works!).
The microtonal "sixxen" instruments that were designed for the "Métaux" movement sound really pleasant in the Kroumata recording and it's easy to pick out the different layers - generally, layering parts in different tempi seems to be a core idea of this piece. My favourite is "Claviers", where we start with a melody played in unison that then starts to diverge as the different mallet percussion players start playing it at different tempi - it actually reminded me a bit of Reich. Overall, it's a piece that rewards close listening, I find, while I also think it does some dazzling and spectacular things that I can imagine a general audience latching onto.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Wednesday, 28 April 2021 14:30 (five years ago)
Week 23
Komboï, amp hpd, perc, 1981; Chojnacka, Gualda, Metz, 22 Nov 1981Embellie, va, 1981; G. Renon-McLaughlin, Paris, 1981Nekuïa (phonemes and text from J.-P. Richter: Siebenkäs and Xenakis: Ecoute), SATB (54 minimum), orch, 1981Pour les baleines, str, 1982
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Monday, 3 May 2021 15:26 (five years ago)
Welcome to the 1980s
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6f8X306XLk
I listened to Komboï yesterday morning, the Chojnacka/Gualda recording. I was listening casually but really liked it - the manic glitch electronica/proto-Aphex Twin qualities in Khoaï mentioned above seem even stronger in this - really interesting and gripping rhythms. Reading Harley now:
The combination of harpsichord and percussion is not at all a common one, but the percussive nature of the keyboard, together with the power it is capable of when amplified, makes it an interesting match for the percussion’s range of sonorities and dynamics. Rather than exploit the aggressive chararacteristics of the instruments, however, Xenakis creates passages of delicacy and beauty, particularly in the combination of harpsichord and vibraphone. The title, Komboï, means “knots,” in this case of rhythms, timbres, structures, personalities (Xenakis 1982b). There are, as might be expected, a wide range of rhythmic structures and patterns deployed. The opening, for example, launches into a fast, regular pulsation on the bongo. Xenakis sets up an interlocking pattern of accents on top of the ticking drum: the dynamic accents at first follow a durational pattern of 8–3–3; the timbral accents, manifested by punctuations on other drums, follow a more variable pattern of 4–4–long (18, 30,16). The variation of these elements, together with the agogic accent created by the occasional shift of the bongo pulse to triplets, continues through the first section.Set against this, the harpsichord outlines a pitch sieve by means of rising chordal sequences. This sieve bears little resemblance to the pelog sonorities of Serment or Jonchaies. There are no adjacent intervals of a major third, and there are segments of three whole steps outlining whole-tone tritone segments. The pattern of the six-note chords remains fixed, and the harpsichord continues the passage by fragmenting the rising sequences into increasing disjunct segments. A brief reference to Mists is found at m. 16. An elaborate arborescent flourish in the harpsichord drops down to the low register in preparation for a pause, then the vibraphone signals the second section. As in the piano solo from the previous year, this long section features stochastic clouds of notes, beginning with the harpsichord (the pitches belong to the same sieve as before), then adding the vibraphone. In his score, Xenakis uses the word crystalline to describe the character of this passage. The timbres of the two instruments fuse in a remarkable way, creating a sound of striking beauty. The density and ambitus of the notes ebb and flow, passing back and forth between the instruments. The two do not share the same pitch sieve, counteracting the timbral synthesis of the instrumental combination. Brief interjections of a repeated chord in the vibraphone (an A major triad with an added B) act as transition to the next section, which continues the combination of harpsichord and vibraphone but in a completely different style. In a passage toward the end of Dikhthas Xenakis creates a tonal, toccata-like atmosphere by combining two modal segments. Komboï contains a similar section, though the sonority is much closer to gamelan than to Beethoven. A three-note pattern in the harpsichord is juxtaposed against a four-note pattern in the vibraphone, with additional gonglike punctuations from lower notes in both instruments. As in the beginning, Xenakis layers a number of temporal patterns onto the pulsating three-note figure in the harpsichord. While the left hand of the harpsichord creates a triplet pattern, accenting every three notes, the vibraphone articulates a more complex pattern: 3–3–3–3– 3–2/3–3–3–2/3–3–2. The number of repetitions of the triplet follows a 5–3–2 pattern. Interestingly, the ordering of the notes, both in the vibraphone and the harpsichord, repeats, these cycles coinciding with the rhythmic cycle of the vibraphone. Thus, the material is very carefully constructed, setting up a cycle of repetition that, once established, is then subject to permutation. After well over a minute of this, the harpsichord breaks out with another Mists-like flourish, only to have the vibraphone jump right back in, taking over the harpsichord’s pattern from before. This reversal carries into a more radical variation, a rhythmic layering in which each instrument sees its material broken into two independent tempi. Subsequently, the hitherto static pitch material opens out into layered contours, meandering lower and lower until the section ends with an ascent and final pause, the gamelan sonority ringing on. A sparser passage follows, built on a fixed sonority of two interlocking chords different from the previous section. They are paired either with the vibraphone or the harpsichord, but the vibraphone soon drops out to switch to woodblocks. Gradually, a regular pulse is built up, the harpsichord playing an irregular pattern of alternations between the two chords. As the woodblocks join the pulse, the harpsichord breaks away, first with another flourish of layered runs and then with a much more sporadic continuation of the two chords. The irregular structure of the harpsichord part leads quite smoothly into a second passage of stochastic flurries, this time in counterpoint to the regular pulse in the woodblocks. A further rhythmic variation is introduced in a short passage for harpsichord as the woodblocks fade out, where two-part layered scalar contours accordion in and out over the range of the keyboards.The fifth section of Komboï features the harpsichord alone. In an effort to explore the subtle resonances and timbral changes the instrument is capable of, Xenakis asks the player to keep her fingers down on a ten-note chord. The passage consists of pseudo-melodies created by the articulations of these notes one at a time, punctuated by chords of both hands, or one or the other. These are accentuated by the addition of registral changes effected by the pedals. After some two minutes, the music finally breaks away to new pitch material, though still held to the same narrow range. As the percussion enters, the harpsichord shifts—after a break—to a reprise of the two-part, layered running contours, sailing right into another stochastic passage. The final section, the longest at over four minutes, constitutes an extended series of variations on seven chords, set against a whole range of rhythmic and timbral elements in the percussion, most notably a set of ceramic flowerpots. The chords, of variable intervallic content, are first introduced in order, accompanied by an irregular rhythmic structure on the woodblocks and drums. Thereafter, the progression is reordered in an unpredictable fashion, though the seventh chord becomes a kind of anchor, recurring more often than the others. As the percussion shifts to stochastic rhythms, the left- and right-hand components of the chords become separated and start to be treated independently. Finally, as the percussion switches to the flowerpots, the harpsichord repeats the seventh chord in its entirety for twelve beats. The percussion then takes over the pulse and the harpsichord launches into a complex passage in which the chordal components are again reordered and recombined, colored by intricate pedal changes (like the solo passage earlier). With various pauses and fluctuations of density, this material continues to the end, along with the evocative ceramic sonority of the flowerpots.5 The final chord is a composite, created from the left-hand portion of the sixth chord and the right-hand portion of the seventh chord. At seventeen minutes, Komboï is one of Xenakis’s more substantial chamber works. The sections are laid out on a broad scale, with many “knots” and fluctuations of elements. It is striking just how well the two instruments go together. The plucked metallic sound of the harpsichord blends both with the vibraphone and the ringing tones of the flowerpots (strokes of a vivid sonic imagination). The various types of rhythmic material are familiar from earlier works, but the range of harmonic material is new. There is not just one sieve used, but several, and chords or melodic patterns of limited range are chosen with care.
The title, Komboï, means “knots,” in this case of rhythms, timbres, structures, personalities (Xenakis 1982b). There are, as might be expected, a wide range of rhythmic structures and patterns deployed. The opening, for example, launches into a fast, regular pulsation on the bongo. Xenakis sets up an interlocking pattern of accents on top of the ticking drum: the dynamic accents at first follow a durational pattern of 8–3–3; the timbral accents, manifested by punctuations on other drums, follow a more variable pattern of 4–4–long (18, 30,16). The variation of these elements, together with the agogic accent created by the occasional shift of the bongo pulse to triplets, continues through the first section.
Set against this, the harpsichord outlines a pitch sieve by means of rising chordal sequences. This sieve bears little resemblance to the pelog sonorities of Serment or Jonchaies. There are no adjacent intervals of a major third, and there are segments of three whole steps outlining whole-tone tritone segments. The pattern of the six-note chords remains fixed, and the harpsichord continues the passage by fragmenting the rising sequences into increasing disjunct segments. A brief reference to Mists is found at m. 16. An elaborate arborescent flourish in the harpsichord drops down to the low register in preparation for a pause, then the vibraphone signals the second section.
As in the piano solo from the previous year, this long section features stochastic clouds of notes, beginning with the harpsichord (the pitches belong to the same sieve as before), then adding the vibraphone. In his score, Xenakis uses the word crystalline to describe the character of this passage. The timbres of the two instruments fuse in a remarkable way, creating a sound of striking beauty. The density and ambitus of the notes ebb and flow, passing back and forth between the instruments. The two do not share the same pitch sieve, counteracting the timbral synthesis of the instrumental combination. Brief interjections of a repeated chord in the vibraphone (an A major triad with an added B) act as transition to the next section, which continues the combination of harpsichord and vibraphone but in a completely different style.
In a passage toward the end of Dikhthas Xenakis creates a tonal, toccata-like atmosphere by combining two modal segments. Komboï contains a similar section, though the sonority is much closer to gamelan than to Beethoven. A three-note pattern in the harpsichord is juxtaposed against a four-note pattern in the vibraphone, with additional gonglike punctuations from lower notes in both instruments. As in the beginning, Xenakis layers a number of temporal patterns onto the pulsating three-note figure in the harpsichord. While the left hand of the harpsichord creates a triplet pattern, accenting every three notes, the vibraphone articulates a more complex pattern: 3–3–3–3– 3–2/3–3–3–2/3–3–2. The number of repetitions of the triplet follows a 5–3–2 pattern. Interestingly, the ordering of the notes, both in the vibraphone and the harpsichord, repeats, these cycles coinciding with the rhythmic cycle of the vibraphone. Thus, the material is very carefully constructed, setting up a cycle of repetition that, once established, is then subject to permutation.
After well over a minute of this, the harpsichord breaks out with another Mists-like flourish, only to have the vibraphone jump right back in, taking over the harpsichord’s pattern from before. This reversal carries into a more radical variation, a rhythmic layering in which each instrument sees its material broken into two independent tempi. Subsequently, the hitherto static pitch material opens out into layered contours, meandering lower and lower until the section ends with an ascent and final pause, the gamelan sonority ringing on.
A sparser passage follows, built on a fixed sonority of two interlocking chords different from the previous section. They are paired either with the vibraphone or the harpsichord, but the vibraphone soon drops out to switch to woodblocks. Gradually, a regular pulse is built up, the harpsichord playing an irregular pattern of alternations between the two chords. As the woodblocks join the pulse, the harpsichord breaks away, first with another flourish of layered runs and then with a much more sporadic continuation of the two chords. The irregular structure of the harpsichord part leads quite smoothly into a second passage of stochastic flurries, this time in counterpoint to the regular pulse in the woodblocks. A further rhythmic variation is introduced in a short passage for harpsichord as the woodblocks fade out, where two-part layered scalar contours accordion in and out over the range of the keyboards.
The fifth section of Komboï features the harpsichord alone. In an effort to explore the subtle resonances and timbral changes the instrument is capable of, Xenakis asks the player to keep her fingers down on a ten-note chord. The passage consists of pseudo-melodies created by the articulations of these notes one at a time, punctuated by chords of both hands, or one or the other. These are accentuated by the addition of registral changes effected by the pedals. After some two minutes, the music finally breaks away to new pitch material, though still held to the same narrow range. As the percussion enters, the harpsichord shifts—after a break—to a reprise of the two-part, layered running contours, sailing right into another stochastic passage. The final section, the longest at over four minutes, constitutes an extended series of variations on seven chords, set against a whole range of rhythmic and timbral elements in the percussion, most notably a set of ceramic flowerpots. The chords, of variable intervallic content, are first introduced in order, accompanied by an irregular rhythmic structure on the woodblocks and drums. Thereafter, the progression is reordered in an unpredictable fashion, though the seventh chord becomes a kind of anchor, recurring more often than the others. As the percussion shifts to stochastic rhythms, the left- and right-hand components of the chords become separated and start to be treated independently. Finally, as the percussion switches to the flowerpots, the harpsichord repeats the seventh chord in its entirety for twelve beats. The percussion then takes over the pulse and the harpsichord launches into a complex passage in which the chordal components are again reordered and recombined, colored by intricate pedal changes (like the solo passage earlier). With various pauses and fluctuations of density, this material continues to the end, along with the evocative ceramic sonority of the flowerpots.5 The final chord is a composite, created from the left-hand portion of the sixth chord and the right-hand portion of the seventh chord.
At seventeen minutes, Komboï is one of Xenakis’s more substantial chamber works. The sections are laid out on a broad scale, with many “knots” and fluctuations of elements. It is striking just how well the two instruments go together. The plucked metallic sound of the harpsichord blends both with the vibraphone and the ringing tones of the flowerpots (strokes of a vivid sonic imagination). The various types of rhythmic material are familiar from earlier works, but the range of harmonic material is new. There is not just one sieve used, but several, and chords or melodic patterns of limited range are chosen with care.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Wednesday, 5 May 2021 10:43 (five years ago)
Coming back to it this morning, this might be one of my favourites.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Wednesday, 5 May 2021 12:36 (five years ago)
I haven't picked out all the pitch material but it really does manage to be pretty, varied, and energetic, and I really appreciate what's going on with texture, dynamics, and rhythm.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Wednesday, 5 May 2021 12:37 (five years ago)
Going to slowly catch up with everything I missed before the week's through.
If you'll allow a preliminary challop, I think La Légende d'Eer is way too long for its own good.
― pomenitul, Wednesday, 5 May 2021 12:43 (five years ago)
I put both the recording Sund4r was listening to, and one by Huang and Wettstein, on the Spotify playlist, partly because it sounds intersting, partly because two of these pieces aren't on Spotify and I figured I could flesh the playlist out.
― No Xmas For Jonchaies (Tom Violence), Wednesday, 5 May 2021 14:39 (five years ago)
I listened to Garth Knox's recording of Embellie a couple of times - very cool through-composed work for solo viola; he really exploits the range of the oft-overlooked instrument while writing something pensive and expressive. It begins with a lyrical melody that is developed and treated in counterpoint with good use of double stops, then moves to more similar/parallel motion before the 2m mark, then we move to something like a call and response between a single voice and double stops. A folky melody enters, seemingly against a pedal. Then at the 4m mark, we move to a more active passage of more typical Xenakis string writing, with glissandi and fast virtuosic material spanning the instrument's registers; sounds like we're getting more quarter-tones here? In the last minute or two, he seems to reconcile the different textural and rhythmic ideas while also bringing in more scratch tones and increased glissando effects.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 6 May 2021 13:08 (five years ago)
There's a broad overall progression in terms of sound and timbre,
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 6 May 2021 13:13 (five years ago)
Curious where the title comes from - as I understand, it could mean both "embellished" and "a lull".
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 6 May 2021 16:22 (five years ago)
Anyone know of a recording of Pour les baleines?
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 6 May 2021 16:23 (five years ago)
Found one - listened a few times. It's a 2.5m miniature, written for a Greenpeace benefit. Gets through a lot of string techniques, textures, and dynamic levels in its short time - the glissandi mimic whale songs at the end. Nice minor work.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Saturday, 8 May 2021 22:07 (five years ago)
Listened to this (OOP) recording of Nekuïa:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_Txie4lAMkIt's fantastic! Has a cinematic quality (in the horror-film sense), with the integration of more typical sound mass and glissando textures with a focus on more melodic material, at times a bit reminiscent of Bartok, sometimes almost post-Wagnerian and sweeping in character. A lot of intense dynamics and percussive sfz attacks.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Sunday, 9 May 2021 14:19 (five years ago)
Week 24
Pour la Paix (Xenakis), SATB, 2 female spkrs, 2 male spkrs, tape (UPIC), 1981, version for SATB (32 minimum)Serment-Orkos (Hippocrates), SATB (32 minimum), 1981Pour Maurice, Bar, pf, 1982Mists, pf, 1981Lichens, 1983
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Monday, 10 May 2021 23:56 (five years ago)
A bit of everything this week
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Tuesday, 11 May 2021 00:03 (five years ago)
I listened to Serment-Orkos and Pour Maurice, two short vocal works, this morning. I enjoyed both but don't have a lot to say about them yet. The latter is especially cool, with manic atonal piano and the baritone jumping through registers in vocalise. The former sounds like there may be crunchy quarter-tone clusters in the choral harmonies (perhaps just dense clusters?) but has some relatively clear and simple melodic motifs. Feels like there's a centre on D at times.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Wednesday, 12 May 2021 14:22 (five years ago)
I listened to Mists a few times, first Klara Kormendi's recording, then Roger Woodward's, which I vastly preferred. Harley describes the form as tripartite, with a section based on linear 'arborescences', a section based on stochastic clouds of notes, and a final section that alternates passages of these two ideas. The overall energy and dynamic and registral range come across really fluidly in Woodward's playing.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 13 May 2021 14:05 (five years ago)
I wasn't real into Komboi, but I've never really warmed to 20th century percussion music for some reason. I guess it's a good thing I didn't try to go to conservatory, or maybe I'd have a different view on it if I was playing it for a living? I haven't made it to Embellie yet, but it's short, so I'll start there this weekend and maybe trawl through the thread for YT links and such for what I've missed.
― No Xmas For Jonchaies (Tom Violence), Friday, 14 May 2021 13:07 (five years ago)
There's a good chance you wouldn't be playing Xenakis for a living even if you did go to conservatory. :P
But, yeah, formal study can make a difference in your appreciation, although otoh X himself thought his listeners should need no special training.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Friday, 14 May 2021 15:28 (five years ago)
I was listening to "Pour la Paix" walking home from work today! It's not very good though.
― Are Animated Dads Getting Hotter? (Tom D.), Friday, 14 May 2021 15:41 (five years ago)
French/French based electroacoustic composers overly fond of spoken word imo.
― Are Animated Dads Getting Hotter? (Tom D.), Friday, 14 May 2021 15:42 (five years ago)
X is usually not! Where did you find that piece?
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Friday, 14 May 2021 16:08 (five years ago)
Got it from a blog.
― Are Animated Dads Getting Hotter? (Tom D.), Friday, 14 May 2021 16:18 (five years ago)
I found a couple things on slsk, too-- Pour la Paix and Pour les Baleines. Pour Maurice is on YT, I have that queued up.
Listening now to Embellies, which I really enjoy. It sounds like the player is playing too hard to keep in tune, which I suspect is microtonality, not pure punk rock aggression on the viola.
― No Xmas For Jonchaies (Tom Violence), Friday, 14 May 2021 22:34 (five years ago)
Lichens is much more exciting than the name implies imho
― No Xmas For Jonchaies (Tom Violence), Friday, 14 May 2021 23:17 (five years ago)
Pour Maurice using a lot of falsetto. There's also a recording on YouTube of a soprano singing it, which I'm not sure is going to be tolerable, but we'll see.
― No Xmas For Jonchaies (Tom Violence), Friday, 14 May 2021 23:24 (five years ago)
Actually nothing particularly shrill, if anything it's amusing to hear her bottom out on the low notes.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iVr7juBq2jg
― No Xmas For Jonchaies (Tom Violence), Friday, 14 May 2021 23:29 (five years ago)
Tom D OTM about Pour la Paix. Feels like the ending of Evangelion or something, important sounding dialogue I can almost follow sometimes separated by WTF moments. Also, in keeping with my near failure of French II in middle school, I almost wrote "Pour le Paix".
― No Xmas For Jonchaies (Tom Violence), Saturday, 15 May 2021 00:04 (five years ago)
Really enjoying Nekuia. This doesn't seem so much farther out than Shostakovich or Schmidt symphonies. Why isn't this programmed?
― No Xmas For Jonchaies (Tom Violence), Saturday, 15 May 2021 00:37 (five years ago)
Found Pour la paix here:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKflilo45tk
It's definitely different from anything else so far in the way it's built around the spoken-word narrative by Xenakis's wife Françoise. Tom, I don't think the text is easy to follow - I used Youtube closed captions the first time I listened closely since, aside from the narrative itself being a bit rarefied and poetic and jumping around a lot in its timeline, the spoken voices are also soft compared to the electronic and choral sounds with which they are juxtaposed, are shifted around on the stereo soundstage, and are sometimes treated with effects. (Youtube captions also had trouble following the text, esp during denser passages.) The story is actually kind of beautiful, though, and the sonic treatment of the text is interesting and has a definite impact, when I come back to it on a second listen after having parsed the narrative. In the end, I just don't see myself coming back often to a piece that is so heavily text-based.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Sunday, 16 May 2021 14:33 (five years ago)
I also found Lichens exciting. A lot of energy, variety, and movement. Starts with just strings. Apparently, there's some kind of micro-heterophony going on where similar lines are being played at different tempo but it's hard to pick out. Feels like we have some clusters and glissandi here. Piece builds up with aggressive percussion and some back-and-forth with winds.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Monday, 17 May 2021 17:27 (five years ago)
Week 25 (!)
Shaar, str, 1983Chant des Soleils (Xenakis, after P. du Mans), SATB, children’s choir, 18 brass 6 (hn, 6 tpt, 6 trbn) or multiple, perc, 1983Khal Perr, brass qnt, 2 perc, 1983Tetras, str qt, 1983
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Monday, 17 May 2021 17:31 (five years ago)
I wish that Xenakis remix disc had included a version of Pour la Paix that replaced all the text with the narration from "Dead Flag Blues."
― No Xmas For Jonchaies (Tom Violence), Tuesday, 18 May 2021 14:54 (five years ago)
On a couple of listens (Tamayo/Luxembourg and an unlabelled recording on Youtube), Shaar seems like a good, enjoyable piece that mostly works the territory Xenakis has established in string pieces so far (clusters, glissandi, density of texture). Khal Perr (recording from Wallace Collection; Miller, John; Wallace, John; Gunton, Simon; Hathaway, Kevin; Terian, Christopher; Haggart, Robin) stands out a bit more, with more of a sense of dialogue between individual voices.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Friday, 21 May 2021 18:28 (five years ago)
I'm a fan of string quartets but Tetras still hasn't really connected with me, for some reason. I listened to the Arditti and Jack recordings this week. It might actually be the first piece that just hasn't made that much of an impression.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Sunday, 23 May 2021 23:55 (five years ago)
Couldn't find a recording of Chant des soleils on NML, Spotify, Youtube, or iTunes.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Monday, 24 May 2021 01:26 (five years ago)
Week 26
Thalleïn, pic, ob, cl, bn, hn, pic tpt, trbn, perc, pf, str qnt, 1984Naama, amp hpd, 1984Alax, 3 ens of 10 insts (fl, cl, 2 hn, trbn, hp, perc, vn, 2 vc), 1985
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Tuesday, 25 May 2021 00:55 (five years ago)
I just listened to Chojnacka's recording of Naama. Feels a bit different from the previous solo harpsichord pieces. More percussive stabs of clusters with a clear pulse, contrasted and then combined with passages of softer, less dense motivic material. I really like the sounds he (and she) get out of the harpsichord. Pretty intense and satisfying as a composition.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 27 May 2021 01:40 (five years ago)
I'll return and listen more analytically but even just listening casually, the sheer energy and timbral and textural richness and variety of Thalleïn seem gripping. The sonorities are blended really well.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 27 May 2021 13:13 (five years ago)
There's a brain-smearing quality.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 27 May 2021 13:53 (five years ago)
Here's Chojnacka performing Naama live in 1986. Fascinating.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDGOfc--ndU
― J. Sam, Thursday, 27 May 2021 16:14 (five years ago)
Wow, very cool. Page turn!
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 27 May 2021 22:00 (five years ago)
Love the athleticism of that.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 27 May 2021 23:18 (five years ago)
Alax is really enjoyable, too, although, again I didn't listen that analytically. Starts out with very high violin harmonics, combines dense massed clusters with some intense percussion, a fascinating passage where brass instruments 'chant' like the voices in some of his choral pieces, some more homophonic chorale-like textures, and even some clear, simple melodic themes that work really well.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Monday, 31 May 2021 02:38 (five years ago)
Satisfying how it picks up rhythmic energy in the final section and then comes to a clear unified conclusion
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Monday, 31 May 2021 02:51 (five years ago)
Week 27Idmen A/Idmen B (phonemes from Hesiod: Theogony), SATB (64 minimum), 4/6 perc, 1985Nyûyô [Setting Sun], shakuhachi, sangen, 2 koto; 1985Horos, 1986
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Tuesday, 1 June 2021 02:26 (five years ago)
This is the only recording I could find of Nyûyô. Whoever uploaded it couldn't provide much info on it, even the performers, but it does seem like it matches Harley's description of the piece:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=luUS_rg42AI
It's really beautiful and quite different for Xenakis.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Wednesday, 2 June 2021 13:55 (five years ago)
Harley:
Xenakis had long been fascinated with the culture of Japan. His first visit there was in 1961, and he often returned. Early on, he noted the parallels between Noh theater and ancient Greek drama, and was much taken with the “noisy” timbres (and lack of vibrato) of the voices and instruments (Matossian 1986, 146–47). In 1985, when approached to compose for a traditional Japanese ensemble, Xenakis was happy to oblige: “‘I wanted to combine the Eastern tradition with a Western style. It is a challenge, of sorts, and I wanted to take it up’” (Langlois 1996, 7). Nyuyo (“setting sun”) is scored for shakuhachi (traditional bamboo flute) and three plucked string instruments: a sangen and two kotos. Given the composer’s own predilection for unusual timbres, playing techniques, and nonvibrato sonorities, the musical rapprochement was easier than might otherwise have been the case. In addition, the modal nature of Japanese music resembles the pitch-sieve model that Xenakis had developed, even if he has generally drawn a closer connection to the Javanese pelog. The piece draws its material from a single sieve, but in some passages the strong accents, glissandi, and breath sounds have the effect of shifting attention away from pitch to the timbres. Proceeding in segments, the form of Nyuyo can be distinguished primarily by the alternation between passages featuring the shakuhachi and those that do not. The flute tends to play long held notes, modulated by changes of timbre or articulation. The plucked instruments propel the music with patterns of continuous pulse, sporadically adorned with characteristic sharp attacks, often in a lower or higher register. In the fourth section, the rhythmic flow is disturbed by a sparse texture of unusual sonorities. There are seven sections in this score of some ten minutes’ duration. Essentially, Nyuyo is quite typical of this composer’s style, albeit using a novel instrumentation. For someone familiar with traditional Japanese music, what would be immediately apparent is the stiffness of the rhythms and ensemble coordination. Japanese music, while sometimes notated, is primarily an aural discipline. In ensemble playing, cues for entrances come from listening to other parts, and there is a built-in fluidity to the flow of time in the music that, while often quite subtle, is highly characteristic (Shonu 1987). Toru Takemitsu, who spent several years studying traditional Japanese music, particularly in conjunction with his large-scale work for gagaku (a large ensemble of traditional instruments), In an Autumn Garden (1973–79), has written, “The metrical system of modern European music is controlled by absolute time that is determined in a physical manner. Variations in tempo brought about by agogics, although plastic in nature, still work within a time scheme that is linear and single-layered. Rhythmic type…in which the length of each beat is different, and the practice according to which… instruments proceed in different time schemes simultaneously, do not have equivalents in Western practice” (Takemitsu 1987, 11–12). Xenakis would no doubt have studied recordings of Japanese music, and he incorporates a number of idiomatic elements, particularly the attacks, glissando ornaments, and breath sounds of the shakuhachi. The rhythmic structure of the music, though, is typical of his own style, and even simpler than most of his other scores, no doubt to take account of the ensemble’s lack of experience outside of its traditional domain. In 1993, French flutist Cécile Daroux worked with Xenakis on a transcription of Nyuyo for flute and three guitars. The result is very successful, an indication that this peculiarly idiosyncratic mixture of Eastern and Western elements can be applied in both directions.
Proceeding in segments, the form of Nyuyo can be distinguished primarily by the alternation between passages featuring the shakuhachi and those that do not. The flute tends to play long held notes, modulated by changes of timbre or articulation. The plucked instruments propel the music with patterns of continuous pulse, sporadically adorned with characteristic sharp attacks, often in a lower or higher register. In the fourth section, the rhythmic flow is disturbed by a sparse texture of unusual sonorities. There are seven sections in this score of some ten minutes’ duration.
Essentially, Nyuyo is quite typical of this composer’s style, albeit using a novel instrumentation. For someone familiar with traditional Japanese music, what would be immediately apparent is the stiffness of the rhythms and ensemble coordination. Japanese music, while sometimes notated, is primarily an aural discipline. In ensemble playing, cues for entrances come from listening to other parts, and there is a built-in fluidity to the flow of time in the music that, while often quite subtle, is highly characteristic (Shonu 1987). Toru Takemitsu, who spent several years studying traditional Japanese music, particularly in conjunction with his large-scale work for gagaku (a large ensemble of traditional instruments), In an Autumn Garden (1973–79), has written, “The metrical system of modern European music is controlled by absolute time that is determined in a physical manner. Variations in tempo brought about by agogics, although plastic in nature, still work within a time scheme that is linear and single-layered. Rhythmic type…in which the length of each beat is different, and the practice according to which… instruments proceed in different time schemes simultaneously, do not have equivalents in Western practice” (Takemitsu 1987, 11–12).
Xenakis would no doubt have studied recordings of Japanese music, and he incorporates a number of idiomatic elements, particularly the attacks, glissando ornaments, and breath sounds of the shakuhachi. The rhythmic structure of the music, though, is typical of his own style, and even simpler than most of his other scores, no doubt to take account of the ensemble’s lack of experience outside of its traditional domain. In 1993, French flutist Cécile Daroux worked with Xenakis on a transcription of Nyuyo for flute and three guitars. The result is very successful, an indication that this peculiarly idiosyncratic mixture of Eastern and Western elements can be applied in both directions.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Wednesday, 2 June 2021 13:58 (five years ago)
Horos: just listened for the first time without reading anything. Quite dramatic; at times, feels almost like there's a bit of the rhetoric of post-Romantic orchestral music and there are some clear themes and a clear pulse, although we also get gagaku-like sonorities (from quarter-tone clusters?). The conclusion is lovely.
― Sequel to Sadness (Sund4r), Thursday, 3 June 2021 13:41 (five years ago)