Thursday, May 2, 2013

Should Jessye Norman still be singing?


Jessye Norman at Montreux

A lot of people probably asked that question before, during, and after Jessye Norman’s performance at the Ordway on Tuesday. Maybe not out loud, and maybe not in those words, but it was in the air.

Norman was here for a special concert celebrating the 130th anniversary of the Schubert Club, one of the nation’s oldest arts organizations. Its flagship program is the International Artist Series, an annual offering of recitals by high-end performers, the cream of the classical world, great artists in their prime or rising fast. People like Anne-Sophie Mutter, Itzhak Perlman, Joshua Bell, Renée Fleming, Susan Graham, Bryn Terfel, Stephen Hough, and Yo-Yo Ma. Norman has appeared in this series three times, but Tuesday's concert did not sell out.

Comments made during intermission, and later in reviews and responses to emails, were respectful but tinged with disappointment. After all, she’s 67 years old. Her voice isn't what it used to be. Sometimes she was hard to hear. Maybe she shouldn’t have attempted some of those ornaments. The high notes seemed out of reach. She had control issues. Her dynamics were imperfect and strained. She doesn’t have the gale-force power or the amplitude of her Wagnerian days.

All true. But she didn’t sing opera at the Ordway. She sang songs from musicals; songs made famous by Nina Simone, Lena Horne, Odetta, and Ella Fitzgerald; songs by Duke Ellington.

Which presents another question: Should opera singers sing popular songs? That depends. Placido Domingo recently released his “first official pop album in nearly 20 years,” an album called “Songs” on the Sony Classical label. I love Domingo’s voice – and at 72, he still wins leading roles on the world’s opera stages. (In March he sang “La Traviata” at the Met, in April “Nabucco” at the Royal Opera House in London.) But “Songs” is dreadful. It includes many pairings that should not have happened: Domingo with Harry Connick Jr. for “Time After Time,” Domingo with Broadway’s Megan Hilty (Glinda in “Wicked”) for “My Heart Will Go On” from “Titanic” (oy), and collaborations with Susan Boyle, Josh Groban, and Welsh crossover singer Katherine Jenkins (“Come What May” from “Moulin Rouge”). Shades of Sarah Brightman and Andrea Boccelli! Everybody’s performance is perfectly fine; they just don’t belong together.

On stage at the Ordway, Norman was paired only with her pianist, the sensitive and supportive Mark Markham. As it happens, several of the songs we heard are also on her latest album, “Roots: My Life, My Song,” released in 2010 as “her first solo album in more than 10 years.” Is she becoming a jazz singer? She’s singing jazz songs. She swings. She even scats. She has toured with a program called “The Diva and the Duke.” The year "Roots: My Life, My Song" came out, she opened the Montreux Jazz Festival.

At times on “Roots,” we hear flashes of the diva, the dramatic soprano who sang Sieglinde. We heard them in concert. She retains her bottomless resonance, impeccable diction, silken vibrato, and regal demeanor. But she’s using them in new ways. And while she may not have her old fortissimo, her pianissimo – a weapon of stealth and gossamer delicacy – hooks you like a helpless fish and pulls you in. And even though her high notes aren't perfect anymore, her contralto is smoky and nuanced.

Since Jessye Norman is singing differently, perhaps we should listen differently. Maybe instead of lamenting the loss of a celebrated opera singer, we should greet the arrival of a seasoned interpretive singer. Let's be happy she’s still singing. Let’s not write her off quite yet. Let's see where she goes without tugging at the hem of her robe (which, on Tuesday, was a glorious statement in black-and-white, printed all over with magnolias).

I’m thinking of a night in October, 2005, when I heard Jimmy Scott sing. He was 80 then, and he’d had a hard life. He was very frail, and many people remarked that his voice wasn’t what it used to be. But what it was I’ll never forget. He sang with so much emotion that I almost couldn’t breathe. “Why not take all of me?” “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.” “I cried for you, now it’s your turn to cry over me.” I cried, Jimmy. For you, for me, for all of us.  

Placido Domingo is singing sticky, gooey movie songs. José Carreras just performed two arena concerts in Taiwan with 13-year-old Jackie Evancho, the PBS pledge drive sensation. Kiri Te Kanawa is about to guest star on “Downton Abbey.” If Jessye Norman wants to sing Duke’s “It Don’t Mean a Thing” or “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore,” or take on the darkness and despair of “Another Man Done Gone,” made famous by Odetta, then please, Miss Norman, come sit by me.
________

Related

Jimmy Scott at the Dakota: Jazz concert review (Oct. 10, 2005)

I'm happy to credit the photograph, and request permission to use it,  if someone can tell me who took it.



Tuesday, April 30, 2013

How do drummers work with choreographers? JT Bates and Peter O’Gorman explain


From "Wine Dark Sea"
Photo by Steve Niedorf
When drummers drum, people dance. That has been true since time began. But what happens when choreographers enter the picture? Who leads, who follows? Is the drumming in service to the dance? Do the dancers respond to the drums? What is it like for a musician to work with a choreographer?

This is a piece about process, written for the 30th anniversary of Zenon Dance Company in Minneapolis. Zenon’s 30th anniversary season will span the first two weekends in May with a combination of signature pieces and world premieres. Two will feature music by area drummers/percussionists.

On Weekend 1 (May 3-5), the company will perform the world premiere of “Molten Substance” by Brooklyn-based Uruguayan composer luciana achugar (she prefers her name in lowercase), with music by JT Bates. On Weekend 2 (May 10-12), the company will perform “Wine Dark Sea,” which it premiered last spring, with choreography by Wynn Fricke and music by percussionist Peter O’Gorman.

In both cases, the music will be played live by the composers, who will be on stage with the dancers.

In “Molten Substance,” the dancers’ faces are largely obscured; at the end, they must put on blue jeans without using their hands. (You try it. It’s hard.) “Wine Dark Sea” is dreamy, fluid, and dark. At times, the dancers seem to float.

JT and Peter are different drummers who have followed different paths. JT is mainly a jazz/free jazz drummer who plays mostly in clubs with a lot of bands and artists, but not always jazz bands and artists. To name a few, he’s a member of Fat Kid Wednesdays and the Pines, his bassist brother Chris’s band Red 5, Alpha Consumer, Dead Man Winter, the Wednesday-night band at the Aster with Erik Koskinen and Molly Maher, and Real Bulls, a new duo with drummer Dave King. He curates the Monday-night jazz series at Icehouse, formerly and famously at the Clown Lounge. He recently received a Minnesota Emerging Composer Award from the American Composers Forum

Peter is mainly a new-music composer and percussionist; his works have been performed by musicians including the Bang on a Can All-Stars, Amy Knoles of the California Ear Unit, and New York percussion quartet Ethos. Currently, he performs with Joe Chvala and the Flying Foot Forum, Mary Ellen Childs, and various other artists. He writes pedagogical books and articles on drumming, and he teaches. He’s a McKnight Composer Fellow and a Sage Award winner (for his dance scores). His compositions have been supported by the American Composers Forum, the Mellon Foundation, the Jerome Foundation, the Walker Art Center, and more.

Both are experimenters, improvisers, collaborators, and good listeners who are passionate about music.

JT Bates: A dash of blind faith

JT Bates at Icehouse
Photo by John Whiting
PLE: Have you worked with choreographers and dancers before?

JT Bates: I did some random improvs for dance with Mark Sutton, the original trumpet player for the Motion Poets. A piece for the Eclectic Edge Ensemble with Mike Rossetto, the banjo player and guitarist for the Spaghetti Western String Company. A piece years ago at the Southern Theater with Jim Anton and Dean Magraw for choreographer Megan Flood. A thing last year at the Walker with David Zambrano that was completely improvised. So yeah, a few times over the years.

Every time I do anything with dancers, they say, “I wish we could always have live music.”

Live music makes everything better.

Put that on a bumper sticker.

How did this project with luciano achugar and Zenon happen?

Linda [Andrews] at Zenon contacted Jeremy and Marsha Walker, saying that luciana wanted a percussionist. They recommended me.

What was your process of working with achugar on “Molten Substance”?

We emailed back and forth once or twice. There wasn’t a lot of information coming from her, just that she wanted percussion. She was looking for some rhythm.

That was before she came here and started working with the dancers. During the early rehearsals, she played beat tracks. She sent me the rehearsal video and basically said that the only thing she wanted me to take from the beat tracks was tempo, maybe a bit of attitude and energy. She said we would figure it out when we got together.

She came for two weeks, and I joined [her and the dancers] for the second week. They showed me what they had been working on and we started from there. She asked me a lot of questions about how the timing felt and what I was interested in doing. That was more her process than asking me to do specific things.

She has ideas for things she wants to see and hear [from people she’s working with], but she wants it to be their own thing, too, so they’re attached to it and feel more involved. I do all kinds of work, but being able to have input and [contribute] ideas is a big part of how happy I am.

Did she seem to have a clear idea of what she wanted from you?

It was more a dash of blind faith, that when we started working, we’d find that clear idea [together]. We were looking for a feeling. It was not very defined. I’m really comfortable working like this, with things not very defined.

From "Molten Substance"
Photo by William Cameron
Can you describe what you came up with and how you put it together?

We ended up using a couple of different tempos, and picking a couple of rhythms I felt fit really well. Then we added similar versions of the rhythms at different tempos. There are parts where it’s all improvised – no time, all texture. And parts where I use single sounds, or as many sounds as I can make at once.

I’m watching for certain actions, little movements from the dancers, times when I need to start changing and moving on to the next thing. Sometimes the dancers change first and I go later; sometimes I’m ahead of the dancers. It unfolds in a very natural way.

I’m moving through blocks of information. When they’re doing this, I’m in this tempo with these sounds. Then there’s a transition. In the next section, I’m in a slightly different tempo with different sounds.

When I go into an improvisation, I have a texture in mind. It’s not just, “What do I feel like doing today?” The dancers are expecting to hear certain things. That’s something we talked about during rehearsals.

Did you create a score, or take notes to work from during the performances?

There’s nothing written down. I have a map in my head.

How do you see your role in this piece? Were you supporting the choreographer, or collaborating with the choreographer? How much give-and-take was there?

I felt like I was collaborating with luciana and supporting the dancers. Playing drums is a supportive role, whether it’s for dance or Paul Metzger or Benson Ramsey singing a song in the Pines. I grew up doing that with my dad’s band. I always try to bring a little of that – being supportive.

What was the most challenging part of this experience for you?

Working in chunks. For the first couple of days of rehearsals, the dancers were still working out their sections and transitions. I was worried that I would never see and hear [the whole piece] in a linear fashion and be able to memorize it. Other than that, I enjoyed it. It was different. I wasn’t in a bar, I wasn’t in a band. I thought – this is awesome.

Will you be visible during the performance?

Yes. That’s a decision we made together. For the first few days of rehearsal, I was set up in a spot away from the dancers, watching them from the front. I started taking my cues from that perspective. But that won’t work in performance; I’d have to be sitting in the audience. Since it’s just me – not three or four people, no amps or horns – I suggested we try center rear, deep in the stage but in the middle. So that’s what we’re doing.

You’ll be able to see me some of the time. luciana didn’t really want me to not be seen. I feel like a part of the whole thing. [The dancers] are with me, I’m with them, and we’re all in this together. If I had any more than my standard little drum set, that wouldn’t work. I would take up too much space.

What is your instrumentation?

The standard bebop-size drum set. Bass drum, rack tom, floor tom, snare, two cymbals, hi-hat. I’m also bringing a bow and a small pile of random ringy things. Kind of my favorite thing to do is play the most standard drum set in the world with brushes and mallets and see how far I can go. Playing the instrument without the tomfoolery. There’s a lot of sound in that thing.

Do you ever get loud?

It definitely gets intense. One of the things that happened during rehearsal was – I’m following the dancers, they’re getting slower and more still, I’m getting quieter and making prettier sounds, and [luciana says] “No! The other way!” She was interested in having a lot of sound when there wasn’t a lot of movement.

It turned out to be a cool juxtaposition, a way to have constant tension and release. It’s fun but also challenging. Four people on stage, barely moving, and me making a lot of sound on the drums. I understand that energy, but it takes a bit to find it. I have to find someplace to draw from to make that happen.

If you put me on a stage in front of a thousand people, I’m going to try to play the quietest, longest note I can. Sometimes the aggressive stuff is the most challenging for me. I have a slight hang-up with getting all crazy on the drum set and playing all the notes, all the time. I’m not drawn to playing like Metallica. I like Paul Motian a lot.

So luciana is pushing the dancers and you to where you’re not comfortable?

That’s true.

Peter O’Gorman: Breaking down barriers 

Peter O'Gorman
performing his composition, "Serif"
Photo by V. Paul Virtucio
PLE: You’ve worked with choreographer Wynn Fricke before. How many times?

Peter O’Gorman: We have created two pieces together, “The Shape of Wind” in 2008 and “Wine Dark Sea” in 2012. “The Shape of Wind” was commissioned by Wynn, and “Wine Dark Sea” was commissioned by Zenon Dance Company.

How did your relationship begin?

Wynn approached me after seeing me perform with Joe Chvala and the Flying Foot Forum and said “We must work together!” I was familiar with her work, which is amazing, so I said YES! and the seed was planted.

A few months later, I had the opportunity to apply for a Jerome Fund for New Music grant through the American Composers Forum. I was lucky enough to receive this grant, which covered the funding for the composition. Zenon then commissioned Wynn to create the choreography.

What is your process of working together?

For “The Shape of Wind,” I was interested in creating a piece just for cymbals. Wynn liked the idea, so I recorded around 20 improvisations and gave her the recordings. After Wynn listened to the improvisations, we met, bounced ideas off each other, and decided which recordings to focus on. I then started to mold some of the improvisations into a more set format while she worked on the choreography.

Through the rehearsal process, the music and dance were molded together. The music for some of the sections was completely set, and other sections maintained improvisational elements.

We used a similar development process when creating “Wine Dark Sea.”

In working with Wynn, do you see your role as supportive or collaborative? How much give-and-take is there?

There’s quite a bit of give-and-take. I would describe our working process as a true collaboration. In my work with movement, I’m interested in breaking down barriers between composer and choreographer, musician and dancer, sound and movement. In “Wine Dark Sea,” the dancers take on the dual role of dancing and making sounds that complete the score. They do this through the use of their breath and by playing crotales, which are small tuned cymbals.

What do you see as the most challenging part of working with a choreographer?

In some cases, choreographic changes require musical changes, which means reworking the score. I find that this process often results in a stronger piece both choreographically and musically. Working with an artist as insightful, intuitive, and open-minded as Wynn has been a pure joy.

O'Gorman's instrumentation
for "Wine Dark Sea"
What is your instrumentation?

I tend to create new multi-percussion set-ups for each piece I compose. The content of these set-ups is dictated by the needs of the piece.

For “Wine Dark Sea,” I created an augmented drumset that includes several unusual instruments. Some of the most interesting are made by the Hammerax company, including two Boomywangs that hang from cymbal stands, look like giant guitar picks, and sound like gongs with a vibrato. Also from Hammerax is a slap ride (“perhaps the world’s darkest ride cymbal”) and a coil chime, which spins while emitting a sonorous metallic sound. Directly underneath the boomywangs are two metal percussion instruments with springs on them that were designed and built by Pete Engelhart, a “reco reco” and “The Snail,” both of which have self-contained acoustic reverb chambers.

The row of chromatic conical bells is a new instrument called an Aluphone. This was only the second Aluphone ever built; the first one went to Evelyn Glennie. The sound of this instrument is a cross between Japanese temple bells, church bells, vibes, and tubular bells.

The instrument that I received the most comments and questions about is a Waterphone. When bowing this instrument, it creates otherworldly sounds, as well as sonorities reminiscent of the sea.

Has anything changed since the last time you performed “Wine Dark Sea” in 2012?

The music for “Wine Dark Sea” includes a structured improvisation that is a little different each performance. Other than that and a few small tweaks, the piece is basically unchanged.

What else would you like us to know about this music?

Before starting work on “Wine Dark Sea,” I had created a number of really quiet pieces, including the score for “The Shape of Wind.” The subtle characteristics of these pieces worked really well, but I was ready to make a little noise, so I proposed using drums for our new piece. Being a drummer, this seemed like a natural thing to do. Oddly, I hadn’t created a drumming piece since college, which was a long time ago. Two of the four sections in “Wine Dark Sea” use drums. Another notable item about the music is that much of it is really slow. In fact, it’s the slowest pulsed music that I’ve ever composed or played.
_______________

Related




Saturday, April 27, 2013

Jace Clayton's 'Julius Eastman Memorial Dinner': Concert review


Jace Clayton by Rocio Rodriguez Salceda
Four pianos, played hard and fast, rise to thunder. Eight hands suddenly lift from the keys – but the sound continues. A roar, a rush of sonic wind, a storm of harmonics pulses and fades.

I almost fall out of my chair.

Until Friday I knew next to nothing about Julius Eastman. Today I’m a white lady in love with music by a gay black composer/pianist of minimalist works with titles like “Evil N-----,” “Crazy N-----,” “Gay Guerilla,” and “If You’re So Smart, Why Aren’t You Rich?”

On Friday night at the SPCO Center, interdisciplinary artist Clayton, aka DJ/rupture, performed selections from his new CD, “The Julius Eastman Memorial Depot,” in a concert called “Julius Eastman Memorial Dinner.” The event was part of the Liquid Music series presented by the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra.

Educated at the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia, Eastman (1940-1990) was a member of New York’s music scene in the 1960s and ’70s, alongside such now-famous names as Philip Glass, Steve Reich, John Cage, Morton Feldman, and Patti Smith, yet hardly anyone knows about him. He died alone and unremarked in 1990 at age 49, after years of homelessness and addiction.

Clayton came to Eastman’s music through a friend, writer Sharifa Rhodes-Pitts. She was part of Friday’s performance, with pianists Emily Manzo, David Friend, Devon Gray (dVRG), and Bryan Nichols, and Sufi singer AroojAftab. Manzo, Friend, and Aftab are on the “Memorial Depot” CD and were out on tour with Eastman; Gray and Nichols live and work in the Twin Cities.

At the SPCO Center, the rehearsal space for the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, the four pianists are lined up in a row, facing the wall before them, their backs to us. (The pianos are a Boesendorfer and a Steinway grand and two uprights. All are miked.) Between the second and third pianos is a space for Clayton, seated at a table with laptop, facing out.

Everything the pianists play is composed. The only improviser on stage is Clayton, who runs the sounds of the miked pianos through his laptop and its “boxes” of digital effects, deciding on the fly how to process and alter them. The result is multiple layers of sound: four pianos and a new layer created in real time by Clayton. Plus all of the harmonics and overtones created by four pianos in an acoustically live space. 

We hear “Evil N-----“ and “Gay Guerilla,” separated by a spoken interlude in which Rhodes-Pitts conducts an imaginary phone interview with Clayton about a position with the fictional “American Society of Eastman Supporters.” A wry twist, it imagines a world where Eastman is celebrated, not almost forgotten. It also serves as a break for the pianists during the physically demanding live performance.

The music is dense and repetitive, like much minimalism, and some of it is played very quickly. “Evil N-----“ is filled with tension. A single note, played over and over, gives way to an anxious, questioning phrase on the higher notes, also reiterated. Darkly, on the lower notes, is a phrase that seems borrowed from “Pachelbel’s Canon,” but warped. Then everything comes together, with variations. It’s hypnotic, melancholic, and majestic.

While the pianists are busy with Eastman's music, Clayton is at his laptop, manipulating, transforming, and re-creating. Notes bend and shift, echo and interleave. They are sharpened and dampened, softened and stretched, hardened to brittleness, passed back and forth between the speakers. There are touches of static, buzzes and booms. Some parts seem all acoustic, some are pure electronic ambience. At times, the sound is tremendous, a physical force. If notes became visible, the air would be thick with them.

Throughout, Clayton’s laptop treatments are subtle, deft, and painterly. Sometimes assertive, never intrusive. He never takes the music away from the pianists, or from Eastman, the original composer. Instead of thinking, “Oh, this must be one of those electronic detours,” you realize you’ve simply gone somewhere else and returned.

In “Gay Guerilla,” serenity overlays anxiety. It’s quieter on the surface, ominous below. The volume builds and subsides. Chords crash and diminish. There’s a questing, seeking tone to this piece, a feeling of being lost and abandoned. The Canon-like phrase returns, and suddenly a Colossus, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” A total surprise, it fits right in.

The final vocal interlude is a call to Clayton from the American Society of Eastman Supporters. He didn’t get the job. There were so many applicants. Her voice soothing and cool, Aftab sings, “The Julius Eastman Memorial Dinner is an equal-opportunity employer. All candidates will be considered regardless of age, regardless of race, regardless of color, regardless of creed and disability, sexual orientation, political affiliation…” As if these things had nothing to do with Eastman's life and personal struggles. Manzo plucks the strings of her Steinway. Soft notes and chords float through the room. The performance ends abruptly with the word “Regardless.”

“Julius Eastman Memorial Dinner” is a workout for the pianists (normally there are two; we were lucky to have four) and a revelation for the audience. It’s beautiful, powerful, and smart. The more I reflect on it, the more moved I am, and grateful to have heard it.

Random thought on the way home: Philip Glass, call Jace Clayton.
_____

Related

• “Jace Clayton: The Julius Eastman Memory Depot” (New Amsterdam, 2013).
• “Julius Eastman: Unjust Malaise (New World Records, 2005). A compilation of performances of Eastman’s music from the 1970s and 1980s.

Both “Memory Depot” and “Unjust Malaise” can be found on Spotify.


Sunday, April 14, 2013

News about E.S.T.

An update from  B.H. Hopper Management in London. Before Esbjorn Svensson's tragic death in June 2008, the great Swedish trio — Svensson on piano, Magnus Öström on drums, Dan Berglund on cello — often played the Dakota in Minneapolis. Will we see Öström when he tours the US and Canada in 2014?

©Photo Per Kristiansen, pkfoto.com

APRIL 10, 2013 • Today MAGNUS ÖSTRÖM´s new album "Searching for Jupiter" (ACT) is released in Sweden and Magnus Öström starts a tour of Sweden with his quartet featuring Andreas Hourdakis (g), Daniel Karlsson (p) and Thobias Gabrielsson (b) with the following dates:

10.04.2013 - S, Stockholm - Fasching
11.04.2013 - S, Visby - Restaurang Munkkällaren
12.04.2013 - S, Gothenburg - Jazzföreningen Nefertiti
13.04.2013 - S, Lund - Plektrum/Mejeriet
16.04.2013 - S, Malmö - Palladium

The album will get released in Europe and in Northern America in August and Magnus will tour in Autumn 2013 and Winter 2014 in Europe and in June 2014 in the US and Canada. Tour dates will get published soon on www.magnusostrom.com

We are also very much looking forward to some very special events across Europe for a program called E.S.T. SYMPHONY. We will announce further details and dates soon, but for the time being we will have a world premier of this program on June 12, 2013 at the Konserthuset in Stockholm. Reknowned Swedish arranger Hans Ek has orchestrated and arranged compositions by the Esbjörn Svensson Trio to be performed by symphony orchestra with guest soloists.

E.S.T. SYMPHONY
‘Orchestral music of the Esbjörn Svensson Trio’
featuring
Hans Ek (conductor)
Dan Berglund (bass)
Magnus Öström (drums)
Joakim Milder (sax)
Mathias Eick (trumpet)
Johan Lindström (pedal steel)
& Royal Philharmonic Orchestra

More Info & Tickets: