Category Archives: Listening

Tord Gustavsen Quartet at Chicago’s Constellation

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“Meditative” and “liturgical.” Those were pianist Tord Gustavsen‘s whispered descriptions of his impending set at Constellation on Saturday night. He and his quartet – Gustavsen, saxophonist Tore Brunborg, bassist Mats Eilertsen, drummer Jarle Vespestad – brought their intimate Nordic jazz to the small but attentive capacity crowd. The performance was part of a five city promotional tour of the US in support of the recently released Extended Circle, an album I highly recommend.

The band’s ~75-minute set featured material from the quartet’s two albums Extended Circle and The Well along with earlier Gustavsen selections from Restored, Returned and Being There. Gustavsen and his band have a very stark approach on record, and I was curious how that would translate to a live setting. I’m pleased to report that it did so perfectly. The small venue and low lighting complemented the band’s restraint. It took until the set’s final number (before the encore), “Eg Veit I Himmerik Ei Borg,” for them to reach a semblance of forte, and in doing so provided a welcome release – and relief! – after the long, simmering slow burn. The set was a series of peaks and valleys, with each peak slightly higher than the last until the zenith during “Eg Veit…” I very much appreciated the group’s restraint – not once did it feel forced. Subtle intensity, Gustavsen’s specialty, is often more difficult to achieve than via the usual “high-fast-loud” means, and the band successfully executed it.

Such subtlety was achieved not through dynamics and dissonance alone but also via texture. Brunborg began and ended the evening on soprano (“The Child Within” and “Vicar Street,” respectively), but otherwise played tenor saxophone throughout. However, the tenor/piano/bass/drums instrumentation was exploited to its full potential. Gustavsen tastefully played outside and inside of the piano with great ease, completely avoiding any sense of gimmickry. Eilertsen beautifully played pizzicato and arco, and seeing a jazz bassist use a bow well was a breath of fresh air. Perhaps the MVP in this arena was drummer Jarle Vespestad. His control of his instrument, be it with drumsticks, mallets, brushes, or his hands, was second to none, particularly his cymbal work. I saw it as him approaching his drumset from a percussionist’s perspective instead of a drummer’s. And floating above it all was Tore Brunborg’s golden tone. Wow – I’ve listened to him on a lot of different recordings and none of them prepared me for just how deeply resonant his tenor sound would be in person. The icing on this sonic cake was their touring sound engineer. The amplification was used not to necessarily increased the volume but rather to enhance the live mix and balance, and every sound was crisp and clear.

Each musician basked in the spotlight some throughout the evening, including a couple of unaccompanied piano solos and a bass cadenza. Overall, however, Gustavsen’s music is more conducive to featuring the ensemble as a whole rather than an individual member, as improvised and composed passages seamlessly blend together. The set featured a nice mix of tunes, including “The Child Within,” “Suite,” “The Embrace,” “Glow,” “Eg Veit…,” “Vicar Street,” and others. Similar to the emphasizing of the ensemble as a whole, the individual tunes were less important than the flow of the overall set, which culminated in “Eg Veit…” and then unwound with the encore “Vicar Street.”

I attended this performance with my partner in crime Matt Borghi. Our shared love of ECM aside, this concert was rather special for me personally, as I never thought I’d see Tore Brunborg perform in the US. (And it’s not yet worked out for me to him in Europe.) He’s received some attention on this blog, notably for his work with Manu Katché (in whose band I first heard him), but also a quick reference regarding saxophonists who’ve influenced me. He should get his own full post at some point, as I enjoy his work – both as leader and sideman – but suffice it to say that I’m quite a fan. Furthermore, visiting with the band after the show was a real treat, and it was great to learn that they’re wonderful people as well as top-flight musicians.

If you have the opportunity to see this group, you must certainly take it. 2014 tour details here.

For a taste, here’s the quartet performing “Vicar Street” in 2009:

My Ambient Canon II: Pumpkin Seeds

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SP_Heart

As I wrote in my previous post, my introduction to ambient music wasn’t via ambient music directly, but rather through a variety of other sources. This nascent series isn’t intended to be chronological (from an autobiographical point of view). I’ll attempt some organization, but we’ll see. For this entry, I’ll begin with what I think may be my “patient zero,” at least as much as my memory is concerned: Smashing Pumpkins.

About three years ago I briefly wrote about SP as being a musical “primary source” of mine. Among the band’s many musical layers and nuances is the use of sonic ambience. Although it’s not a crutch, Billy Corgan‘s (and James Iha’s, etc. – but, primarily for studio recordings, Billy’s) guitar is often made many through overdubbing. Beyond that, the group has always featured two guitarists live (2+ via studio magic), and the added chordal layer is part of what gives the band’s music such sonic weight. Aside from weight, the additional guitar allows for layering in both the foreground and background. This is quite prevalent throughout Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, and album that left a profound impression on me. (After all, I was 12 when it was released and I first heard it.) The album is mammoth in scope and sonic breadth – alternately intimate and epic. Some songs include layers that I would now consider to be ambient-friendly, though at the time it wasn’t in my vocabulary. One example is the lush and often soaring layers atop the core band in “Porcelina of the Vast Oceans.” The song itself is good enough, but that layer greatly enhances the sonic depth and I’ve always been very attracted to it. Of course, such layering is different from the symphony orchestra employed in “Tonight, Tonight” (bravo Chicago Symphony Orchestra!), as the orchestra plays defined parts and lines. “Porcelina,” on the other hand, includes additional layers meant to simply add sonic presence and/or weight. If you eliminate the core song – vocals, rhythm & solo guitars, bass, drums – the remaining layers would themselves, to me, provide an enjoyable listening experience. While I may not have been able to precisely put my finger on it as a preteen, I know that part of the attraction to this song has always been my wanting to listen to and enjoy that layer in a vacuum.

Another SP song to do this, released a year later, is “Set the Ray to Jerry” from 1996’s MCIS b-side box set The Aeroplane Flies High. “Jerry” is nowhere near as grandiose as “Porcelina.” It’s a chill, contemplative, midtempo number – one of the band’s hidden gems. (The box set, originally printed as a limited edition, has now been reissued and I encourage SP fans without it to correct themselves.) The song begins with a quiet arpeggiated ostinato before the full band enters, and it remains throughout most of the song. And while its nowhere near the piece’s focus, like “Porcelina,” it dramatically improves the listening experience. Towards the end of the song, additional soaring-but-subtle guitar lines are added to drive – or, in this case, coast – things to a close.

There are many other examples from the entire Pumpkins catalogue from which to choose, but these are early examples that stuck out to me at the time, especially considering that Mellon Collie was the first full SP album I dug deep into. But many other SP songs can be argued to have either ambient-, space-, or drone-/noise-friendly qualities. Some are: the outro in “For Martha” (…and much of the rest of the drum machine-laden Adore), “Soma,” “Glissandra,” “Owata,” “Silverfuck” from Earphoria (utilizing pure noise in a live rock performance blew my early adolescent mind), the 23-minute Cage-ian “Pistachio Medley,” and much of MACHINA: The Machines of God, including the fabulous outro of “This Time.” And of course there’s the seemingly ubiquitous EBow…

Beyond the Smashing Pumpkins, Billy let these tendencies run rampant as well. An easy go-to would be his digital-heavy solo effort TheFutureEmbrace, which I described here. Also, Zwan, with its lineup featuring three guitarist, offered a richer sonic palette live than the Smashing Pumpkins, particularly on the epic “Mary, Star of the Sea.” In fact, droning nature of that song’s intro is something that, even now, my mind quickly goes to when in an ambient mood.

Interestingly, I’d be remiss if I didn’t that about a year ago Matt and I briefly discussed Robert Fripp, after which he sent me a video clip of him performing live. (A big name in ambient and non-ambient music, of course.) I don’t recall what it was specifically, but it instantly reminded me of Billy Corgan. I don’t know how much Fripp influenced Corgan specifically, but it’s interesting to somewhat reverse-engineer that lineage now, even if I’m largely speculating. (I know Billy likes David Bowie, but I’m unsure of King Crimson or Fripp alone.) And it was less than two months ago that I purchased Travis & Fripp’s Thread, an ambient album featuring guitar and sax/flute. Talk about coming full circle…

VIDEO: “Set the Ray to Jerry” live at Detroit’s Fox Theater 10.07.07. (I was there and pleasantly surprised that they played this one…)

(Photo: Smashing Pumpkins logo)

‘Einstein on the Beach’ Paris Performance Streaming until May 7

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I know how it seems: the Wagner bicentennial is officially over and so I bring back another trope: Einstein on the Beach. That wasn’t the plan, but I’m happy to go with the flow.

This past Tuesday’s performance of Einstein on the Beach at Paris’s Théâtre du Châtelet was simulcast via live stream. I watched along with my fellow Beachers. (If that’s not yet a term, I’ll gladly take credit.) I watched intermittently, anyway, as the stream occasionally crashed for me because of bandwidth – heavy traffic – and the weather around here has lately been horrible for internet connections.

Regular readers know of my love for this work – not just the piece, but the experience of it. I proudly count myself among the fortunate few who’ve attended a performance, all things considered. (I love Wagner, but his works are performed more than one tour every 15-20 years. The rarity is of course compounded by the fact that a full video recording has never been released.) And, as I described here, seeing Einstein was one of my favorite experiences, musical or otherwise.

For those who may have missed the stream, the tour, or both – and for those who may want to relive a fraction of the experience – the stream has been archived and made available for viewing until May 7. I highly suggest taking 4.5+ hours of your time and giving it a go.

A few brief thoughts on the stream:
• It was a great reminder, but it cannot live up to the real thing. (Of course.) This is partly because of the camera work. The various close-ups and angles take you out of your seat, as it were. Part of the genius of the work is getting lost in both the forest and the trees simultaneously – musically and visually. Large scenes move glacially and seemingly small actions are monumental. With the camera closing in on various characters and/or actions, it diminishes the larger scope some. For example, when the prisoner screams during “Trial II,” the close-up bars the viewer from seeing the judge’s simultaneous reaction – you only see it afterwards, but not as it happens.
• That said, some of these different – and unique! – angles help to give a new perspective if you’ve seen the performance live. For instance, I sat in the fifth row or thereabouts, so I lacked the aerial view of the two dance scenes. (The aerial view is preferable for them, although I had a great seat for the “Train” scene’s diagonal dance…)
• It was wonderful to once again enjoy Kate Moran‘s phrasing during “Trial II.” Simply wonderful. She’s so nuanced with compelling diction.
• “Building”! This scene gets short shrift on the audio recordings. What a delight to hear it full-bore. Andrew Sterman OWNS it. (Thank you, Mr. Sterman.)
• Composer Nico Muhly’s live-tweeting of the broadcast is a humorous companion.

I encourage you to take advantage of this opportunity if even the slightest bit interested.

WATCH the stream HERE. You have until May 7.

This blog’s Einstein archive is here.

Guerrilla Opera: Reflections on Bicentennial ‘Rienzi’ at Bayreuth’s Oberfrankenhalle

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rienziposter

Under the heading “Better Late Than Never,” I figure it’s worthwhile to jot down a few thoughts on my seeing Wagner’s Rienzi in Bayreuth this past July. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for months, but as the schedule got increasingly busier with work, teaching, and playing, the blog grew dormant. It’s not yet midnight/2014 EST, and it’s best to at least get this out during the same year as the performance…

Also, I feel compelled to at least mention it here because the performances seem to have came and went with little notice from the journalistic- and blogospheres. (A handful of reviews are here, here, and here, with a brief video from the Bayreuther Festspiele here.) I can somewhat understand the cold shoulder, unintentional or not: of the three orphans, Rienzi is perhaps the “most performed,” so particular attention was paid to performances of Die Feen and Das Liebesverbot. (But don’t let that fool you, Rienzi is rarely performed and gathers much dust.) And of course there was the Castorf Ring, which sucked much of the air out of the room at summer’s end…

The ban of the first three operas from the Festspielhaus remained in place during the bicentennial. However, as a compromise, they were performed down the road at Bayreuth’s Oberfrankenhalle: an arena that’s home to sporting events and pop concerts. (Bayreuth’s municipal opera house was closed for renovations.) Hence “guerrilla opera” – the experience of seeing any opera in such a venue would be memorable enough, let alone Rienzi in Bayreuth during the bicentennial celebrations. As regular readers know, I’ve attended many arena rock/pop shows, but never have I seen an operatic performance in such a venue. It provided an odd but unique backdrop to the occasion.

Oberfrankenhalle

Oberfrankenhalle

Because of July’s teaching schedule in Bregenz, Austria and August’s schedule back in MI, I was only able to make it to Bayreuth for two days and nights. After my train journey, I spent much of Saturday 07.06 wandering around Bayreuth on foot, including my venturing into town from my hotel, which was approximately an hour’s walk away. I of course paid my respects at Wahnfried and the Festspielhaus. I spent the first part of my Sunday catching up on work at the hotel before trekking to the Festspielhaus. (While there, I was unintentionally serenaded by the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, members of which were staying on my floor and loudly singing excerpts while hanging out.) Heading into town for the performance, I found the Oberfrankenhalle to be prepped for the operagoers who came from all over the world, including cloth tables for drinks beforehand and during intermission. An added twist for me was the fact that, while it was my second visit to Bayreuth, this was my first time attending a Wagner performance in the city. And while I have yet to see a performance in the Festspielhaus, this was technically my first festival concert (since it was a co-production). (But considering I’m only 30 and live in the US, there’s still much time to get inside.)

oberfrankenhalle2

Oberfrankenhalle

The juxtapositions continued into the arena. Throughout the concourse formalwear abound, and merchandise stands sold official Bayreuth Festspielhaus goodies including clothing, CDs, DVDs, programs, and books. A very different scene than, for example, Rage Against the Machine at the Palace of Auburn Hills.

Once I took my seat – pricey, but near the back – the transformation/juxtaposition continued. Tiered seating filled the arena floor to provide the “illusion” of the theater, as well as a specially-designed stage and set design and and makeshift orchestra pit. Worlds had definitely collided to realize this performance:

rienzistage

The co-productions of the first three operas were joint ventures by the Bayreuther Festspiele and Oper Liepzig, the latter city being Wagner’s birthplace. At the podium was Bayreuth staple and renowned Wagnerian Christian Thielemann, leading the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra and Oper Leizpzig Chorus in a solid and often moving performance. Because of the venue, there were understandable limits to the staging, but Matthias von Stegmann‘s production was often effective, all things considered. It was a mix of old and new. While not a historic production by any means, allusions to ancient Rome were peppered throughout. As you can see from my (snuck) photograph above, coliseum arches were a mainstay for much of the production, often trading place with a tree and another pillared platform that occasionally doubled as a church. One effect – mostly effective but occasionally head-scratching – was the use of image and video projection. There were occasionally militaristic videos and images to complement the militaristic themes of ancient Rome (and/or other militaristic powers and societies). However, there was one image that appeared a few times that looked to be a visual continuation of either the bleachers or the “inner working” of the arena. Was it supposed to give on the illusion that the arena – and therefore the audience – was part of the story? Hard to tell, but it nonetheless made an impression, if only a confused one. The wardrobe choices were a mix of austere, leather-clad designer-wear for the militaristic and political figures, and pastel outfits for the townspeople who looked more at home in the Hamptons than ancient Rome. A nice visual cue throughout, however.

With it being almost six months later, some of the musical nuances are fuzzy in my mind. But certain aspects definitely stuck out and still remain clear:
• The chorus was lovely. They shined throughout, but particular highlights were the end of Act I and beginning of Act II. A very nice blend, especially considering the sporting complex’s acoustics.
• Mezzo-soprano Daniela Sindram as Adriano. Hers was the single role that musically stole the show. She was impeccable, emotive, and forceful.
• Tenor Robert Dean Smith as Rienzi and soprano Jennifer Wilson as Irene were quite fine, though they didn’t stand above the rest like Ms. Sindram. Smith’s Rienzi was rather light and lyrical.
• Thielemann and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra received the biggest ovation, and deservedly so.

We were treated to an edited version of Rienzi, not the 5+-hr. behemoth. (Though, considering the arena seating, I think my back appreciated it.) It would have been nice to see the ballet, but there are a lot of “would haves.” It would’ve been neat to have seen it in the Festspielhaus, but oh well. I can say that I thoroughly enjoyed Rienzi at Oberfrankenhalle. However, I must admit that the simple fact that it was Rienzi in Bayreuth during the bicentennial helped. Would I see Die Zauberflöte at such a venue, etc.? Nope. All that aside, it was a fine performance and truly a unique experience – one that helped make this Wagnerian’s bicentennial a special one. Furthermore, considering all the hubbub around Castorf’s bicentennial Ring at Bayreuth just a few weeks later, perhaps I lucked out with my 2013 Bayreuth experience? (Though, admittedly, I would like to see that Castorf production in person for myself.)

Bicentennial or not, here’s to more Wagner in 2014. First up, details from Chicago Lyric Opera on 01.17 regarding their next Ring…

More bicentennial Wagner posts here, here, here, here, here, and here.

(All above photos by yours truly, 2013.)

‘Parsifal’ at Chicago’s Lyric Opera

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Chicago’s Lyric Opera debuted its new production of Richard Wagner’s Parsifal this past Saturday, directed by John Caird. It was delightful and moving. Much like my post on Lyric’s production of Die Meistersinger, I’m not here to necessarily write a “review” of the performance, but rather to discuss my experience.

Parsifal is Wagner’s final opera. Premiering in 1882, it’s the only one to have been written after the construction of the Bayreuth Festspielhaus. Wagner didn’t consider it an opera, but rather a “a consecration play for the stage” (or, in German, ein Bühnenweihfestspiel). Adding to the work’s quickly mythologized status, the Wagner estate kept Parsifal from being performed anywhere save Bayreuth for its first twenty years. Such quasi-religious treatment of the work is appropriate, considering its deeply religious and philosophical themes and overtones. Centering on the knights of the Holy Grail, Parsifal is a tale of temptation, compassion, and redemption. Despite the piece’s drama, Wagner’s characteristic dissonance and aggressiveness are downplayed in comparison to his other works. It’s still dramatic, chromatic, and moving, however the sonic experiences is one of beauty, reflection, and awe. It’s a wondrous sonic experience that nicely complements the work’s nearly liturgical ambitions.

This production is Caird’s first Wagner endeavor, and I thought it a successful one at that. (“Official reviews” have been mixed to positive.) He and set designer Johan Engels created a visually striking series of images and scenes. (This was my second Engels outing this year after his David Pountney-directed Die Zauberflöte at the Bregenzer Festspiele.) The set’s centerpiece – a large circular platform with removable panels and a mechanically adjustable eye – was utilitarian and provided a focal point. Aside from the Grail, holy spear, abdominal wounds, and a trio of swans, there was little overtly Christian iconography, opting instead to focus more on philosophy and cultural symbolism. (For example, women play a an important role in Act III, adding a sisterhood to the brotherhood of Grail knights.) I enjoyed the use of color throughout: from the sullen green forests and stark blue worship hall of Act I, to Klingsor’s hellish red domain and the Flowermaidens’ vibrant garden in Act II, to the pale forest in Act III. The Flowermaidens (Act II, Scene 2) were a highlight. Call me a sucker, as I’m sure many will scoff and say that this part is an easy “go to” visually, but I thought that the brilliant colors mixed with the choreography was stunning. That, coupled with the female chorus’s impeccable performance made for an arresting second act. Having the swans played by people was a nice touch also. The three swans – the Trinity? – flying in the forest during the prelude and the lone swan – in lieu of a dove – in the finale offered not only a visual treat during the prelude but also a nice way to bring the production full circle at the end.

Vocally, recent Bayreuth staple Kwangchul Youn as Gurnemanz and Thomas Hampson as Amfortas reigned, along with Tómás Tómasson‘s Klingsor. Daveda Karanas‘s Kundry and Paul Groves‘s Parsifal were both quite good, but there were moments in which they felt stretched in their extreme ranges. That’s being picky of course. However, I can’t say enough good about the Lyric Opera chorus. The choral moments were phenomenal – deep, musically rich, and well balanced.

Sir Andrew Davis led the orchestra in a mostly superb performance. I say “mostly” due to one glaring error at the very end, in which a trumpeter opted to hold a note between the final two chords. (Perhaps he/she thought they were proceeding to Rienzi attacca?) That and a couple small intonation blips aside, the orchestra sounded lovely and offered a warm, moving reading.

Moving. And that’s what it’s all about. It’s why I don’t want to really focus on more “negative” aspects or drawbacks, as is the case with many reviews and reviewers, because, ultimately, I was moved. And greatly so, at that. Parsifal‘s gesamtkunstwerk was in full effect Saturday night. Many will quibble about the production’s interpretive qualities, and of course performances of any kind are subject to criticism. But the DRAMA is what matters. And by that measure, this new production wholly succeeds. I wasn’t checking my watch throughout the 4.75-hour event. In fact, much of the time, I wasn’t even really “there,” but rather lost in the soundworld and imagery. I understand that that’s probably too naive for some, but I doubt Wagner intended for us to attend every performance in the context of the scores of other audio and video recordings – and possibly score study – serving as a reference point. I believe that the performance can largely be judged on this simple yes/no: was the listener affected (positively, of course)? If yes, then much of the battle is already won. And it was a glorious victory Saturday in Chicago.

NOTE: This production runs through November 29 in Chicago.