Think of it as a sort of improvised Well-Tempered Clavier. Keith Jarrett’s rubric of 17 numbered improvisations, gathered here in this tomb-like collection dubbed Radiance, is a thorough investigation into the pianist’s own imaginative prowess. As always, these live recordings are punctuated by Jarrett’s grunts and vocalise which may provide further insight into the wiring of his brain. After nearly two and a half hours of riffs and grooves, well, it’s kind of like a pilgrimage to Mecca.
—RN
AFMM Orchestra conducted by Johnny Reinhard
Long considered the El Dorado or Shangri-La of American music, the Universe Symphony of Charles Ives was to be his magnum opus, a summation of all music that had gone before and a foreshadowing of all that was to come. History books tell us that Ives never finished it and it could never be completed, but Johnny Reinhard, the intrepid founder of the American Festival of Microtonal Music, thought otherwise, as usual, dug through Ives’s sketches, and came up with a completion of the work which he claims is 100 percent Ives. The resultant music sounds like no other except for moments that recall Ives’s last officially complete symphony, the Fourth, which was the precursor to this. “Pulse of the Cosmos,” sampled here, shows that totalism is nearly a century old.
—FJO
At the end of July, a movie theater around here screened Mary Ellen Carroll’s Federal, a 24-hour “movie” focused on the exterior of the Federal Building in Los Angeles—an observational twist, given that the structure houses offices of the FBI and CIA. In many ways, Miya Masaoka’s new release, For Birds, Planes & Cello, inspires a comparison (not to overlook Warhol’s Empire, of course). Though not as grand by the stopwatch, the gist is that Masaoka has taken a continuous, unedited field recording made in a canyon in San Diego that is heavy on the bird life and airplane traffic. She then invited cellist Joan Jeanrenaud into the studio to overlay the recording with all manner of sounds designed to accent the world captured on the tape. The cello line moves in and out of prominence over the course of the nearly hour-long presentation, but the birds musically steal this show. Lots of interesting sonic relationships to ponder while wandering about inside this piece.
—MS
Michael Parloff, flute; Jerry Grossman, cello; Kenneth Cooper, harpsichord
I’ve been saying for years that some of the newest sounding music is the music that contemporary composers are writing for older musical instruments. A new disc featuring the music by septuagenarian Chelsea Hotel-resident Gerald Busby, on which the main instrument is the harpsichord, proves my point once again. Busby’s 1980 Court Dances for flute, cello, and harpsichord might evoke the timbres of a Baroque sonata, but that’s where the anachronism ends. Written for the Joffrey Ballet, the score oozes a rhythmic vitality that is only possible in our own time that is made all the more visceral by the out-of-context sonorities.
—FJO
Ignore the PR machine behind Neo Camerata. According to the Svengalis, Neo C (their term, not mine) is hipper than cocaine circa 1977. Whether or not the group exudes that intangible rock band vibe, or—hold the phone—actually is hip, seems a little beside the point. In reality, it’s just a bunch of pretty chamber music dressed up with leather jackets and miniskirts in desperate need of attention. The music isn’t edgy or anything, on the contrary it’s actually rather tame. In fact, the pop song-length Dream on a Cirrus Sky is gushingly syrup-like, echoing a sort of radio-edit version of “Louange à l’immortalité de Jésus” from Messiean’s Quartet for the End of Time. If anything, the average consumer is going to use this CD to impress a date.
—RN
Lauten has plenty of large-scale compositions on her resume, but there is much to be said for looking to the intimate and often confessional quality of solo work performed by the composer, when it’s available, for a more complete vision of the artist. The stress of caring for her ill mother in Paris (during which the piece was developed) seems to have poured itself quite directly into this composition, an uneasy waterfall of notes which, poetically enough, includes reference to an old nursery rhyme. Lauten is no stranger to a keyboard, and her performance on this recording showcases that talent.
—MS
This CD instantly brought me back to my high school days, when I’d lock myself in my room with some primitive sequencer, MidiVerb II, and a Proteus 1 Plus Orchestral Expander and spend hours on end making fantastic soundscapes. Man, sound quality has really evolved in—my god, is it really?—17 years. Anyway, I can admit that on rare occasion, I actually get in the mood to hear synth orchestral timbres, especially when draped in reverb and juxtaposed with freaky electro-flourishes. If ever I was jonesing, Gabriel Yared’s early ballet score to Shamrock would provide the fix. We may have a new replacement.
—RN
I listen to a lot of really off-the-wall music, but once in a blue moon something comes along that startles even me. Twin Cities-based Matthew Smith’s symphonies for overdubbed jaw harps, 1/16-th size Suzuki violins, normal strings, and assorted percussion are bizarre beyond belief. Something of a Captain Beefheart in reverse, Smith, after 30 years as a successful painter, put down his brush and started composing music. The result is an extremely timbre-sensitive approach to sound based on built up layers much the way paintings create images from applying multiple layers of paint. Smith’s scores are un-notated although they are completely worked out. (A work created for the Minneapolis-based new music ensemble Zeitgeist, which is also included on the disc, shows how his orally-transmitted scores—communicated mostly through mouth sounds and body gestures—come across when performed by other musicians.) All in all, the results are emotionally turbulent yet extraordinarily immediate, perhaps the result of devoting the majority of his creative life to an art form that is not time-based.
—FJO
The National Ballet of Canada Orchestra, conducted by Ormsby Wilkins
Michael Torke’s score for James Kudelka’s ballet An Italian Straw Hat is as upbeat as any Mozart ever penned for the stage, and it sets an appropriate tone for the classic farce without feeling dated. Though the toe-tapping action is of course left to the dancers well supported by Torke’s score, the music gets a special moment to shine when one of the characters transforms into a violin virtuoso before our eyes. The change is dramatically well paced without overdoing the spectacle. Based on the fantastic black and white costuming on display in the production photographs included in the CD booklet, I will definitely be keeping an eye out for a live production in my town.
—MS
Hands down, this CD is the ideal soundtrack for an ultra swanky cocktail affair. I mean it. The upbeat, enthusiastic delivery of these twelve Thad Jones classics is a sonic firehouse perfect for dowsing out schmoozing and idle chitchat. Maybe those schmarmy fellows exchanging business cards over there in the corner will shut up and listen just a few seconds longer and soak in the tunes while scanning the room for their next conversation victim. With a crisp sonic buzz sharp enough to cut through the clinking of glass and ice cubes, the wallflowers out there will surely bop their heads to the groove. Another sazerac, please!
—RN
