"Voices", Ensemble Dal Niente @ Nichols Hall, MIC, January 31 '13

I attended a concert program entitled, "Voices", and presented by Shanna Gutiérrez, the flautist of the Chicago-based contemporary chamber ensemble, Ensemble Dal Niente. She created a program of seven pieces, consisting of four world premieres, two U.S. premieres, and a 'classic' in the contemporary flute repertoire. Here's the list:

-Gé (2009) (US Premiere) for solo flute and electronics, Olga Krashenko (b. 1983)

-Zungenspitzentanz (1983) vom 'Samstag aus Licht' for solo piccolo, Karlheinz Stockhausen 

(1928-2007)

-Dizzy Divinity I (1985) (US Premiere) for solo flute, Horatiu Radulescu (1942-2008)

-An exceedingly clear absolution engine (2012) (World Premiere), Ray Evanoff (b. 1984)

-Still Life (2012) (World Premiere) for soprano, flute, and cello, Jamie Leigh Sampson (b. 1984)

-Letterludes (2012) (World Premiere) for alto flute, guitar, and percussion, Frederick Gifford (b. 1972)

-Sur le debris (2012) (World Premiere) for bass flute and electronics, Francisco Castillo Trigueros 

(b. 1983)

I really liked Zungenspitzentanz, Still Life, and Sur le debris. Zungenspitzentanz, or "a dance for the tip of the tongue", reminded me of Der kleine Harlekin, a piece for solo clarinet, which I heard played by my friend in Germany, clarinetist Merve Kazokoglu. The unusual entrance/musician-turned-stage-character who breaks the fourth wall were intriguing, and held the audience's interest. Still Life was based on the idea that anxiety, isolation, and panic can exist behind a facade of calm, or a 'still life'. Soprano Amanda DeBoer Bartlett delivered a compelling performance. Sur le debris took amplified gestures from the bass flute, and, via looping and 'disintegrating' the sound with electronics, manipulated the gestures into permutations and extensions. For example, Shanna clicked on the keys without blowing any air into the flute, and Trigueros' electronics manipulated the key percussion into vivid clicking sounds that caused my mother to turn excitedly to me, saying that she hadn't expected to hear a piece that "resembles my [often upset] stomach." My only complaint during Sur le debris is directed at the sound volume of the amplified manipulations. It was sometimes too loud, and bordered on hurting my eardrums. 

Sur le debris caught the attention of my parents, who, while avid music lovers, usually don't attend contemporary chamber ensemble concerts. "Americans like innovation and fresh creativity, and this kind of music will draw them in. They might be bored during Mozart, but their imaginations will be inspired by the non-conforming sounds," mused my mother, reflecting on the concert. I think she's on to something. 

Shanna had a confident and polished stage presence, as did her guest artists. Wardrobe choices were eye-catching but not distracting, and the energy emanated from the stage was vibrant and invigorating, yet poised. I look forward to more Ensemble Dal Niente performances in the future. 

Chelsea, New York City, August 2012

Chelsea, New York City, August 2012
written on October 12, 2012 in East Peoria, Illinois 

sticky, odorous, dense air
tinged with summer haze
framed by twilight, hankering to near.
The sky is a periwinkle gray, with artificial illumination
provided by endless buildings
that are heaven-bound.

You can see the people at the top of the top
with timed and flickering flashes.
Anxious tourists racing up
to be in the pointy concrete giant
with Olympics-colored lighting.

we gingerly make our way to the middle
arrange discarded chairs and once-elegant patio furniture
avoid cigarette butts that skimmed the ashtray
and settled elsewhere

our feet are weary and shot by the day's adventures
the burdens of past & future too heavy around our necks.
Twilight brings with it
a vague and directionless draft.
Perhaps it is menacing.

bottle opener, twist, pull, listen
recline, glance up, smile

Eastern Blok @ Katerina's, January 3 '13

My family somewhat spontaneously decided to listen to Eastern Blok, a world fusion jazz ensemble that was formed in Chicago in 2004. The group consists of guitarist Goran Ivanovic, sax/flute/perhaps- other-woodwinds-player Doug Rosenberg, bassist Matthew Ulery, and percussionist Michael Caskey. They played at Katerina's on West Irving Park, and we caught a few hours of their show. 

Selections included many original works written by mostly Ivanovic, and ranged from traditional Balkan-styled melodies with underlying innovative jazz chords to free jazz influenced jams. The music was evocative with a wide variety of emotions - Old World nostalgia, dance-like exuberance, melancholic, observant. Each player is an accomplished instrumentalist, and the group had a beautiful sound and chemistry together. It's a real treat to watch people intently listening to one another while on stage, a sign that they're in the present moment and committed to what they're playing. 

Katerina's is also an intriguing venue, with its deep red walls, elegant place settings, and great acoustics. It seemed as though many at the bar were regulars who came to hear good tunes often. We had some appetizers and chatted a bit with Katerina herself, a warm and eclectic lady. Catch Eastern Blok when you get a chance, whether it be through one of their many albums or a live show, and check out Katerina's if you're in the mood for good world music and jazz. 

The Wailing Woman & Other Neighborhood Characters

Every now and then, a woman in a newspaper hat walks around our neighborhood in Augsburg's Jakobervorstadt and wails. She moans, "Owa, owa, owa!", (German for "ouch") and after what we think was a suicide attempt (jumping?), was even strapped down in an ambulance once and whisked off to probably a hospital. I saw her at our tram stop, complaining and crying to the postman while smoking a cigarette, which she threw far behind her in frustration as she got on the train. I've also seen her talking to passerby's (not sure if they're familiar to her) who often have dull, meth-abused-looking eyes, and nod passively with no vocal response. 

Last night, a couple of Africans speaking in a loud and brash language woke us with their fighting at the bordello across the street. A group of teenage girls boosted each other so that their heads reached over the fence separating our street and the "Red Light District" (yes, it has red lights - my mother mistook them for seasonal Christmas lighting, admiring the festivity of my neighborhood), and they ogled and giggled the German equivalent of "OMG! WTF!". 

I don't feel unsafe here nor uneasy, but rather, sorry for all of these people, who are locked into the monotony of their problems and struggles and can't hold back, even in public. Maybe we need a nice community garden here. 

Ageing & Still Raging

Today, I listened to an episode of Sound Opinions that discussed the emergence of EDM (electronic dance music), its influences, impact on pop culture, and future in America. Though informative, it left me with a strange sensation of realizing that I’ve gotten older. I had never experienced this feeling before in relation to anything artistic, and it took me a while to understand my anxious reaction. This episode was the first to showcase a trending genre of music that I am relatively unfamiliar with. 

Sure, I know something about early 90s dance music; I fought for our family car’s radio station to be tuned to Chicago’s B96 until I was twelve or thirteen years old (the alternative rock station, Q101, took over after that point). But my knowledge of EDM ends at 1996, and, well, a lot has happened since then. 

This Skrillex guy, among others, has been producing sounds and beats that have evolved way past 1996. I don’t know how to use a laptop as a recording, producing, and mixing studio, I barely know what ‘dubstep’ is, and I don’t know how to sample. I mean, my blog isn't even hip-looking (Flash? Photos?). The way I make music (and study it) could be considered archaic today. 

Although I liked what I heard on Sound Opinions, I didn’t feel like a part of it and subconsciously began to wonder if I’ve already become obsolete. My anxiety signified that I felt as though I’m dinosauring. Or getting ready to dinosaur. 

Snap back to rational thinking: I’m not old nor done for. And even if I was, there are millions of resources to come by on the internet, at shows (whether they be Coachella, in a basement, or at a dive bar), and word of mouth. One can learn a tremendous amount by simply listening, reading, and staying open-minded. So, traditional musicians - don’t despair! We are still part of the conversation! 

Silent Films & Film Scoring

I just returned from a final dress rehearsal of a film scoring project performed by my orchestra, the Augsburger Philharmoniker. A full score was written, rehearsed, and conducted by the composer Johannes Kalitzka, and set to the silent film Die Weber. The story is based on an uprising by local proletariat weavers in 1844 in the region of Silesia (Schlesien) which straddled Germany and Poland until Germany's unification in 1871, and is now part of modern-day Germany. 

The music is very well suited to the film, with its mix of cacophony, persistent rhythms, and instrumentation techniques (sampling, colorful percussion, individual string parts within string groups, special effects performed on various instruments). At times, I felt emotionally disturbed while watching the workers struggle to overthrow the wealthy, and the music provided an unsettling backdrop as well as apt commentary that succeeded in being modern yet timelessly fitting. 

For those who write music - setting your scores to silent films is a great way to really showcase your style and communicate a story. Search out old and preferably forgotten silent films and see how they inspire your work. I'd be interested in playing your creations!

Guitarists

Last night, our opera house enjoyed the last performance of the season in the actual theater and orchestral pit with a performance of Emil Nikolaus von Reznicek's Ritter Blaubart, and there was much merry-making afterwards.

As it is with all nights out, a time comes when a decision needs to be made - carry on, or turn in? We ventured forth to the next bar, Cafe Neruda, where we met a guitar duo, one guy from Georgia (the country) and an Assyrian (not Syrian - I initially thought so, too: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assyrian_people) guy from southeastern Turkey.

They played a mesmerizing set of classical guitar duos with flamenco and folkloric influences, and it was apparent that the two, particularly the Georgian guy, were highly trained and had mastered virtuosic guitar playing. They made everything look so easy, and were unpretentious.

After jamming with R.E.M. and Eric Clapton songs, we stumbled home and passed by the guitarists as they sat on a random bench, rolling joints and getting happy. It was somehow poignant, although I can't say exactly why.