Tuesday, 27 October 2015

Ensemble Anomaly – Anomaly Unbound

Saxophone - Trevor Watts
Trombone - Robert Jarvis
Guitar and Clarinet - Alex Ward
Double Bass - Simon H Fell

I wasn’t sure what to expect of this performance, in all honesty if anything I actually expected that I would not enjoy it. My experience of free improvisation as a spectator as opposed to a participant is that I find it lacking in narrative or direction and therefore a generally uninteresting or even unpleasant experience.

In short, I was more than pleasantly surprised by this particular performance. The format was simple, the four performers sat in an informal semi circle, there was a very brief introduction from Fell before all four began their first free improvisation, before splitting into 2 groups of two (guitar and sax, trombone and bass) and then reconvening for a final improvisation as a group.

Their virtuosity as performers was obvious, and each player performed with the confidence afforded by years of experience on their instrument. There were no uncertain pauses, no ‘mistakes’, each entry was deliberate, precise and well delivered as if they had been playing from a score. There was such a freedom of sound; I felt that each performer really explored the limits (or lack thereof!) of their instrument. Simon in particular employed a plethora of artefacts with his double bass; cymbals and beaters included. The guitarist, Alex Ward achieved such a range of pitched and un-pitched sounds from his guitar, using the strings and pickups in ways I had never seen before.

What struck me most about the performers was their apparent communication with each other using their instruments – entries were so flawless it was as if they had been rehearsed. They used their instruments almost in a conversational manner, as if sounds were a direct replacement for language. Their replies were so instinctive at times the musical dialogue felt like an argument or discussion, they didn’t seem to need the time to think or listen before responding, as if the music flowed in the moment, uninterrupted.

I suppose one of my main issues in my own participation of improvisational performance is that I tend to think too much about what sound I should make or how I should add to the music, so that by the time I have thought of a response the moment has passed, or the sound that I make is hesitant or unsure. I know that I can be a confident player and that I have the playing technique to create the sounds I want to create, but in the moment I am so afraid of contributing in the wrong way or playing something ‘incorrect’ or that does not fit that I am limiting myself musically.


So, perhaps in the context of free improvisation, listening too much as well as not enough can be an issue? An interesting thought.

Saturday, 24 October 2015

Pauline Oliveros - Four Meditations for Orchestra

Today was our second session trialing this work for a concert in December. We played through the first couple of movements; I've included a copy of the performance directions below.

 







So far, I'm very impressed with this work and the way in which it encourages performers to collaborate. I particularly like that the first movement makes room for periods of silence (something that I have come to appreciate of late) therefore giving each performer the chance to digest and absorb the previous sound whilst choosing whether to contribute or not. As someone who likes to think before making a sound, I find that this work has a lot more room for reflection, hence Four Meditations for Orchestra. There is something different about the atmosphere that performing this piece creates, because it doesn't feel like I have to 'jump' in with my contribution whilst I have the chance. That pressure is removed entirely.

This presents a different challenge though, of trying to avoid the temptation of pre-choosing a sound and just waiting for a chance to play it. The score seems to be asking for a collaborative, thoughtful process toward real-time composition, so thinking of a sound minutes before I play it regardless of what is played in between seems contradictory. What I tried to achieve was a balance, a more meditative approach of just playing more instinctively. I don't think I have quite achieved it yet! Maybe next time...

The second movement is just beautiful, or was today when we played it. There is something very simple and satisfying about the blend of sustained tones - It reminded me very much of Oliveros's performance with the Deep Listening Band which I've included below (the performance in question is the first one in this video).


What makes the second movement challenging from a technical perspective was recognising a pitch and actually playing the same tone without sneaking in a practice pitch that no one hears! We had already agreed that once we had begun to play a pitch we were to commit to it, regardless as to whether it was what we intended, so this in itself had some interesting results. It is very thoughtful of the composer to almost write these little accidents into the score; 'invent a pitch of your own'.

Next week we will attempt the third and forth movements, the third in particular looks like fun. This one does include some very instinctive reactions, almost as a direct opposite of the first. Maybe now she feels we are ready for it...

We'll see!

Tuesday, 20 October 2015

My Favourite Sounds

This is by no means an exhaustive list, in fact I plan to update it when I find new sounds to add to my collection:


  • Tiny bubbles escaping from under a hot mug when liquid is trapped underneath
  • The dull crunch of fresh snow
  • The roar of the tube turning a corner
  • The ‘ping’ of a crystal glass
  • The hum of a pylon
  • The cackling sound of rails as a train approaches a station
  • The sound of clapping from below heard from the upper stand of the Clock End of the Emirates Stadium (the angle of the roof makes it sound like a laser beam!)
  • This sound
  • The first harmonic on the E string of a violin
  • Also, the sounds the strings in between the scroll and the tuning peg make when plucked
  • Rain drops on the roof of a tent
  • Wind beating a window
  • The clarinet glissando at the beginning of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue
  • The 'pop' and 'sizzle' of a frying egg - perfectly captured by Lee Patterson
  • Blackbird song
  • The London Underground
  • One of my dinner forks (I do not know which one specifically, but it will be a pleasant surprise next time I use it to scramble an egg)
  • The Manchester Metrolink 

Saturday, 10 October 2015

Pauline Oliveros - All Fours



As my first real Oliveros experience (other than listening in the privacy of my own home, obviously) I felt that this was somewhat disappointing for me. As the score instructs, the only restriction here is that the sounds made should be in a group of 4 identical sounds, equally spaced in time. Tempo, dynamic, timbre and all other factors are left to the performer.

The piece suggests percussive sounds with which, on the whole, my violin doesn’t generally comply. Not that this has ever stopped me before, however I did feel very restricted as to the variations of my contributions (which was probably more my problem than Pauline’s). The main issue I have with this piece is the instruction that you should play groups of four ‘without it being obvious’, which I find contradictory with the instruction that it could start ‘simply and with no overlaps’. Surely then the groups of four become obvious when they are isolated? I found this whole conundrum shaped my listening to the piece; if I play a very slow 4, then this is easier to make less obvious. However the tempo range should be from as slow as possible to as fast as possible, so I should therefore play some quicker groups of four too. But in order for these to be less obvious, I will have to play them at the same time as several other people so they cannot be heard in isolation, which means I’m not able to respond to other members of the group or perhaps play when I want to. Also, if another member of the group plays a very loud and very obvious group of four, I am interrupted from my listening experience and therefore annoyed that they clearly haven’t read or have chosen to disobey the instructions!

This is something I have come across before, my frustration with things not perhaps sounding the way I think they should. Am I right to be annoyed if I feel someone isn’t following the instructions or the direction of the group correctly? Or is it just that they have interpreted them differently? Should I embrace the change in direction, maybe encourage my wayward colleague into entering new territory? All sounds are new sounds because of how and where we hear them, how we are feeling that day, the temperature of the room, the company with which we hear them, so does it really matter that they weren’t the sounds or lack of sound we were expecting or hoping to hear?


If I don’t like a sound, is it the sound that is the problem, or is it me?