Trio Mediaeval
CF-Wesenberg:kolonihaven.no
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A weekend music marathon at the
Barbican and other places: curated by Nico Muhly
Part pop festival, part classical
concert, this weekend was an eclectic mix of music and I’m glad
that I got to listen to as much of it as I did.
The first session I went to was session
2 at LSO St Lukes. While
I overheard someone call the space ‘brutal’ I have to disagree.
By fusing utilitarian modern with its 18th century facade,
this beautiful Hawksmoor with its dilapidated past is acoustically
and aesthetically one of the best music spaces in London.
Before the concert proper Nico
Muhly (1981-) and friends played an introduction to the first set
of songs. Sat on a little carpet they played a minimalistic drone,
based around a single tone with slowly changing chords, which
eventually became the accompaniment to the UK premiere of ‘Three
songs’. Performed by violinist Pekka
Kuusisto and British tenor Allan
Clayton, the songs reminded me a little of ‘Fish in the
unruffled lakes’ by Benjamin Britten, albeit with guttural
statements from the violin. Moments of consonance to the drone and
silence were used to highlight words and phrases. When the drone
finally ended its loss was keenly felt, even though you probably
weren’t sure when it began.
The
final piece of this set was also a UK premier. Bang on a
Can all-Stars joined forces with the Norwegian girl group Trio
Mediaeval, to perform Julia
Wolfe‘s (1958-) ‘Steel Hammer’. Julia herself explained
that there are over 200 version of the American Ballad ‘John
Henry’. According to legend
he raced and won against a steam hammer, only to die with his hammer
in his hand. But Julia wanted to explore the way information travels
and grows – various discrepancies between alternate versions are
brought forward. While this version of John Henry emphasizes his
achievement rather than his finality, what she manages to show is
that in the end, regardless of the details, the humanity and impact
of the story remains.
The folk-style and precision of Trio
Mediaeval perfectly matched the alternating moods of ‘Steel Hammer’
from cattle call American to industrial scrapes and bangs. For the
singers and musicians this piece it itself an unrelenting marathon on
its own. Their vocal dexterity through the various tongue twisters
and rhythmic fragments was amazing.
Session 3 in the Barbican
Hall was preceded by an afternoon of FreeStage events. In passing
I heard Steve Reich’s
(1936-) ‘Music for Pieces of Wood’ performed by the Guildhall
Percussionists and, during the interval, a delightfully irreverent
‘Double Music’ by Jason
Treuting played by So Percussion and students from the Guildhall
School of Music. I’m not even sure what all the instruments
they used were – but it definitely included some audience
participation. The last welcome interruption was during one of the
stage rearrangements when So Percussion flash mobbed Steve Reich’s
‘Clapping music’.
Another premier – this time a
European premier: Daniel
Bjarnason’s ‘Over Light Earth’. This Icelandic composer,
who records with the same label as Nico, has worked with London
Sinfonietta, Ulster Orchestra and Sinfonietta Cracovia and has won
the 2010 Best Composer/Best Composition category at the Icelandic
Music Awards.
The stage was certainly full. With two
pianos, two sets of percussion, speakers, amps, multitudes of wires
and stands, the lone harp glittered like a jewel. ‘Over Light
Earth’ was an ever changing soundscape with cycles of storms and
calms – but it seemed a little self-conscious. Not all the sounds
had a readily apparent source and there was an electronic hiss of an
undertone. The strings were a little scratchy and could have done
perhaps with more performers per part in such a large space.
Bryce
Dessner’s (1976-) ‘St Carolyn by the sea’ (UK premier) also
seemed a little lost. Apparently this piece is meant to be performed
by Bryce and his twin, but they were not present tonight. There were
some pleasant moments, and the strings were more solid, but it was
sometimes hard to make out the guitars – even the conductor
appeared to lose where they were up to.
Then the audience went wild for Conor
J. O’Brien, guitarist and founder of the Irish indie folk band the
Villagers, who was
suitably dressed down for the occasion. The Villagers are clearly
well known and were nominated for a Mercury award and won an Ivor
Novello award in 2011. The arrangements by Nico were surprisingly
mainstream, but with little odd moments now and again which didn’t
quite fit in. Not my thing – I like my folk music to be folk music
- but the rest of the audience loved it.
Experimental composer Richard
Reed Parry, member of indie rock band Arcade Fire, was in the
unfortunate position of following Connor. ‘Heart and Breath’
however was an exciting idea. The performers wore stethoscopes so
that they could play to the rhythm of their own heart beats and
breathing.
The duet was fairly self explanatory,
but the quartet and nonet were a little confusing. Especially as they
were explained thus: ‘the quartet, by which we mean eleven people,
which expands into a nonet, by which we mean eleven people’. The
number of movements and general pauses were also unclear, leaving the
audience unsure of whether to clap or not. Several people plumped for
- if in doubt, applause. All this embarrassed the composer and
detracted from what was actually happening.
The sections based on heart rates
resulted in some interesting harmonies which would be horrible to
notate any other way. The sections based on breathing also worked in
juxtaposition, but less so when they were the main element. This has
the potential to be an amazing piece but at another time and with a
different audience.
Similarly to Conor, Glen
Hansard’s set received rapturous applause. This singer
songwriter is an emotive performer with a strong on-stage personality
and well thought out lyrics. One slight hiccup was charmingly glossed
over - he forgot to come in and unfortunately it’s hard to ask a
whole orchestra to repeat a few bars so that he could catch his
place. The orchestral sound seemed to gel more with his style and
Glen ended the evening on a very late, but endearing, encore.
Nico’s idea was to have a ‘gathering
of friends and family, new and old’ and in this he succeeded. But
there was little screaming and no outrage – just a group of people
trying things out in a, by and large, minimalistic way. Some of it
worked – some of it didn’t. But without trying and experimenting
how else can we move forward.
review by Hilary Glover
For further coverage of A scream and an outrage see Hilary's review of day two.
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