Swedish Adventure 1: Saariaho

   I've been in Sweden since Friday and I'm still recovering from jet lag. I screwed the pooch on getting acclimated, was a bit ill over the weekend (something I ate while traveling), and haven't been able to break the funk since. However, today was a day I wasn't going to miss because of my stomach nor my head.

   Kaija Saariaho is the recipient of a Polar Prize this year, and tonight was a concert of her music to kick off the festivities. The concert was an hour long with four pieces, three of which featured cellist Anssi Karttunen. If you're familiar with Saariaho's work, you'll probably recognize that name: most of her cello works are written for Karttunen.

   I was excited for the concert. Bill Brunson had let me know over the weekend it was happening, so I marked it on my mental calendar. I walked the 15 minutes to the tunnelbana (metro, subway, tube), and headed into downtown Stockholm from my suburban abode in Bromma/Sundbyberg. The T is very easy to navigate in Stockholm county, so getting around is cake. The bus system is equally good, and much nicer than any other city I've been in. MUCH nicer. But getting to the konserthuset is easy--T to T-Centralen, walk a couple blocks.

   An hour before the show, I picked up the ticket and a latte. The ticket was acceptably expensive (180 SEK or about $25-28 depending on the exchange). The latte wasn't very good, but I haven't had coffee since I got to Stockholm, so it was worth it. After finishing, I decided to walk the block and ran into Bill and his wife, completely unplanned. I knew he was going, but I wasn't out looking for him.

   Enough about the day to day of Stockholm. Onto the concert.

   I sat down about 10 of, and a crowd started forming quickly to my side. I glanced over and saw Saariaho. So, after she shook many hands, I hopped up and said a quick congrats and hello. Saariaho seemed pretty shy, and there was a crowd, so I wasn't going to draw her into a deep discussion. But, yes, I did "meet" her, though I doubt she'll remember my name (with all the hellos, names, and handshakes occurring).

   The show began with a quick chat with Saariaho about the four pieces. The pieces were Sept papillos for cello, Serenatas for cello, percussion, and piano, Duft for clarinet, and Je sens un deuxieme coeur for viola, cello, and piano. Karttunen played the cello throughout, while members of Norrbotten NEO, Robert Ek (clarinet), Kim Hellgren (viola), Marten Landstrom (piano), and Daniel Saur (percussion) made up the rest of the players.

    Saariaho explained the pieces simply: Sept papillons was written during rehearsal for L'amour de loins, her opera about Jaufre Rudel's possible (fictional?) love of the countess of Tripoli. She described it as her escape from all the drama, craziness, and huge amount of people. Serenatas was written using music that had been kicking around since sketching Sept papillons. They are a series of Serenades that can be played in any order. Duft for solo clarinet is based on music from an orchestral piece about the sense. Duft is German for smell, and it's her musical idea of the linking of smell and sound. Finally Je sens un deuxieme coeur (I feel a second heart) was inspired by Saariaho's second pregnancy, when she started thinking about how there was a second heart beating inside of her, beating very fast and slowing over 9 months. She mentioned polyrhythms as well as the programmatic aspect of the work.

     I won't embark on a piece by piece analysis or discussion. Instead, here are some general remarks about Saariaho's music. First off, three of the pieces had some sort of programmatic aspect. These aspects, if I had not been told about them in the first place, would not have come through in the music at all. In fact, even listening with the "insider information" straight from Saariaho, I did not hear any of the programmatic elements. Nothing in Duft made me think of smell, and nothing in Je sens un deuxieme coeur made me think of feeling two heartbeats during pregnancy. And, while these were impetuses and muses for Saariaho, I do not think I was supposed to hear anything overtly programmatic. Instead of listening for little signs, trying to tease out the program, I felt as though I was supposed to just relax and experience the music. And that is exactly what I did, letting the music wash over me.

    All of Saariaho's music takes a high level of virtuosity, especially the two solo works. Karttunen and Ek did fabulously on their ends, performing at high technical and musical levels. Saariaho's music favors the delicate over the raucous, though she is not afraid to put together a forceful section. However, it was the moments of relaxation that intrigued me the most.

    Sadly, as the concert went on, I started hearing the same motives over and over again. I've always enjoyed Saariaho's music, though I was introduced to it fairly late in the game. I did notice in L'Amour de loin that long passages of time, an hour or so, would sit in nearly the same musical area, even as the action moved around the stage. In the opera, this created an odd sense of stasis along with movement. In an hours worth of chamber music, it didn't create such an intriguing effect. Instead, I was left thinking "What else can Saariaho do?" As passages died down, Saariaho would turn to trills between harmonics. If she wanted to keep energy going but pull back the sound, it'd be harmonic arpeggios. All the material seemed woven into the same large rich tapestry.

    While I love that tapestry--it's colourful yet subtle, harmonically and motivically interesting--it is the one tapestry. When I hear Saariaho break out the most is when she uses electronics. For instance, Lonh, a beautiful piece for voice and electronics (performed beautifully by Dawn Upshaw on a recording available from Naive or Ondine...and streaming on Naxos).



    This piece, to me, is Saariaho at her finest. But her style is so distinct, so incredibly tight and structured, that it seems like her pieces are coalescing into one piece.

     This isn't necessarily a problem. As I said before, if all the pieces are woven into one tapestry, it is a beautiful, subtle, wonderful tapestry. But something happens when you hear four pieces that sound so incredibly close together. The music got less interesting, lines blurred, and I found myself slipping.

     My experience is incredibly personal. I know other people that with such a program would be able to drift more fully into the music, experience the parallels, ride the waves of sound, and be quite happy. Maybe I am still a product of my generation, one that grows impatient with too much of the same. It's why writing a 25 minute drone piece was the hardest thing I've ever done (yes, worse than 2 operas), and why even during my favourite symphonies, I can start getting antsy halfway through a movement.

    That being said, I am excited for the Kungliga Filharmonikerna concert in October with Saariaho's Laterna Magica, Chopin's 2nd Piano Concert, and Schumann's 4th symphony. Funny, I just brought that symphony up in my last post. Heh.

     And I'm still quite happy I went to this concert. I had never gotten a chance to hear Saariaho's music live, and honestly the music didn't disappoint me. I think I disappointed myself. Instead of being able to just relax, and get washed away by the music, my mind instantly started analyzing all the similarities between the pieces. I couldn't even concentrate on the differences, just the similarities. So, now I've identified what I see to be a weakness in myself.

    Because music is about the experience of the moment, not to over think it.

     I listened to Lohn tonight when I got home after eating a giant smorgorsar (accents missing) and drinking an Orangina. In the quiet of my room, I was able to relax more and just let Saariaho's beautifully nuanced music flow over me. Hopefully, this mode of listening can stay with me--attentive, but not to the details, just to the music.

Overmarking

I have sat in front of my computer almost all day, tackling inputting chamber opera 2 into Sibelius.

First off, that's right! The original intent of the blog, to chronicle writing my first opera, has come back around for a second round! But there'll be more about that opportunity later.

For now, my head is in the score, getting all the details into this infernal software. They're all "nicely" laid out in my manuscript, but translating some things into notation in software isn't too easy. Sibelius 6 still doesn't treat Sprechstimme markings all that nicely (where's my shortcut for that on the keypad! C'mon!), and there are a fair share of note-head changes for different techniques.

Ah, so now you're thinking "Oh, he uses all these techniques, so he's gonna talk about what a pain that is" or maybe "Now he's gonna say 'there's a limit to putting dynamics on every note!' FERNEYHOUGH FOREVER!"

Well, we're not all Ferneyhough (but I kinda wish I was...dude's awesome, but that's a previous post). No, this is about something less...musical?

This is about the words. I'm in a second semester of playwriting, which makes me practically an expert. That's a joke. But one thing we've discussed several times in class is how much information should be put in stage directions. The professor, Frank Higgins (he's kinda kick ass. Check him out), likes to remind us "If the words dictate an action, you don't need stage directions." (paraphrased, of course). And, what about emotions, like "angrily." I remember, vaguely, Frank basically telling us at the beginning that this was pretty much a hands down "no."

And yet...it's a practice in operas. I've checked out a few scores and, there it is, right over the words. "Angrily" "with growing frustration" "Happily." In instrumental writing, I get it.

In the violin part to an opera, I get it

But right over the singers words, and just hers?

If I was a singer, which I'm most assuredly not (though my resume says I did it in amateur fashion many moons ago), I may take it in stride, and just do what I'm told.

Or I might get irritated.

Yeah, you're right, I'd get irritated. Who does this composer jackwad think he is, telling me exactly who I should feel. Maybe I feel like the character should be more peeved than angry. Maybe it's a jaunty happy not a blissful happy. I can add the character just fine, thank you.

If I sent out a script where lines were tagged as such, I'd be laughed at. So, why are we still doing it in music? I even started to do it in my own piece, when I realized "ya know, I don't REALLY have to tell the singer how to do this. If the words tell the action, and show the character, it doesn't matter." Heck, if it's written well enough, even things like irony and sarcasm would come across in the characters voice without me having to put "sarcastically."

So, maybe we should ease off a bit in the markings. Let musicians be musicians, singers be singers, and opera singers by OPERA singers...which intrinsically means actor/actress as well.

Enough complaining, back to the grind!

What a couple months...

I disappeared for a while. For good reasons, I promise. It's been a crazy month...well, a bit over a month. The basic break down

1) Doctoral Comprehensive Exam- This ate 2 weeks of my life in early October, plus a few weeks prior studying

2) Fulbright application- Turned this puppy in DURING my comps. Yep, I finished my 48 hour essay, had a week of studying for my comprehensive listening test (meaning any piece from any time period, drop the needle style) ahead of me...and what did I do instead? Spent hours almost every night editing and rewriting a Fulbright proposal.

3) eight blackbird side-by-side concert- I organized this bad boy: Found the space, took all the submissions and organized sending them out, did initial judging of each selection (21 entries, done in one night), found the space, negotiated price of space and dealt with logistics, attended rehearsals, helped show 8bb around to all their various coachings (man, their schedule was NUTS!), loaded all the equipment and moved it to the space in a 24' box truck, set it up, tore it down, and then drank...This was a huge project that took lots of help from faculty and students (Shout-out to Joseph Kern for all his work with Musica Nova!)

Won't be doing that again for quite some time!

4) concert with KcEMA at La Esquina, Perceptions and Realities...this was an "easy" one

5) Installed an interactive installation designed with Bobby Zokaites called "The Machine the Sneetches Built," ran the opening, and had to set-up all the tech each morning, then chilled in the gallery in case anyone had questions. This was another huge opportunity thanks to ArtSounds, UMKC Conservatory, UMKC Community Music and Dance Academy, Kansas City Art Institute, and Charlotte Street. It was a resounding success in the community, especially on opening night! There will be photos and video up soon, hopefully.

So, I've been busy. All of these things deserve their own blogposts, and I think I'll get on that. Thanksgiving break starts tonight after we tear down The Machine, so maybe I'll write a bunch and time the posts, or something fancy like that. I mean, that can't be any harder than dealing with WiiMotes

public forums

I often think of what i should put here. What should be personal? how much of my art is personal? quite a bit, after all. I'm putting myself out there with every piece. Sometimes, explaining them...well...it's like doing an interview in the dark with a voice changer, then cutting away to a newscaster that gives my name and address. lol

and, right now, there are pieces of me floating around that need that veil.


All this is just to explain why i haven't blogged about my current piece...


yeah, the premise is almost silly. but...i'm creating a dialogue. a dialogue that i think is important to me at the moment. It's why i'm performing part of it...


and, it's probably why i'm scared to finish it...


you'll just have to see/hear the piece, i guess, because this is all i shall say about it for now. Other than the title

It Was Raining