Richard Haynes/Paul Hübner/Steve Menotti

Get ye to St Paul’s Hall in Huddersfield tonight to see/hear Richard Haynes (clarinets), Paul Hübner (trumpets) and Steve Menotti (trombones) play the shit out of some really bad-ass music. The composers and performers on this programme comprise some of my favourite musicians and human beings in the world. I wish I could be there. ‘Nuff said.

Clarinets: Richard Haynes
Trumpets: Paul Hübner
Trombones: Stephen Menotti

Programme:

Michael Baldwin: what ¯lurks beneath¯ (WP) for clarinet, trumpet & trombone

Timothy McCormack: Here is a sequence of signs, each having a sound and a meaning for trombone solo

Eduardo Moguillansky: limites
for one trumpet player

Hang Su: Julischnee (WP)
for trumpet, bass clarinet & trombone

*** intermission ***

Chikako Morishita: Lizard (shadow & light) (WP) for clarinet, trumpet & trombone

Evan Johnson: Apostrophe II (pressing down on my sternum) for quarter-tone flugelhorn & alto trombone

Jeroen Speak: Epeisodos
for bass clarinet

Timothy McCormack: Disfix
for bass clarinet, piccolo trumpet & trombone

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Sternum = well-pressed

Last week, the incomparable ELISION ensemble performed in Melbourne’s Iwaki Auditorium.

Richard Haynes has put together a pretty comprehensive précis of what went down on his blog, and I shan’t say too much more about the repertoire itself. A somewhat unsympathetic review can be found on Resonate, too.

[EDIT 11-oct-09: a much more sympathetic review has just appeared on RealTime Arts although, sadly, it doesn’t say anything about the Johnson work.]

Evan Johnson‘s Apostrophe 2: Pressing down on my sternum, for quartertone flugelhorn and alto trombone, though, provoked a few thoughts. The work itself was an extraordinary exercise in suppression. Heavily muted, facing the back wall, as far away from the audience as possible, Tristram Williams and Ben Marks let fly with a blistering performance of some of the quietest music you will ever hear, comprised of instrumental sonorities, vocalisations (the trumpet’s vocal part – terrifyingly – starts on ‘Queen-of-the-night F’) and throat manipulations. Johnson will be familiar to Melbourne audiences from the premiere of his Apostrophe 1: All communication is a form of complaint for two bass clarinets last year, or Hyphen for solo crotales from a performance by Speak Percussion in May.

My first instinct was that the stifling of the performer was so successful that you couldn’t even tell that they were being stifled, and that this might have been mitigated by either losing the mutes or performing facing the audience. But really this depends on where Johnson locates the game – the piece definitely succeeds in creating an atmosphere where the audience itself struggles to relate to the performance (itself a struggle), and it’s perhaps all the more fascinating for that.

From the discussions I’ve had with other audience members (both after the concert and in the intervening weeks), it seems that this work polarised opinion somewhat. Interestingly, the people that seemed to react very well to it tended to be those that are more heavily involved in Melbourne’s experimental music scene, rather than those whose activities are restricted to more conventional new-music concertising. I don’t think this necessarily has any bearing whatsoever on the actual quality of the work, but it certainly does have implications in terms of the development of a context for this music.

This is music which, for better or worse, requires a great deal more from both performer and audience than most, and it’s telling that those audience members that got into it were those with long-standing habits of attempting to engage with foreign musical materials, rather than sitting placidly, passively back and waiting to be ‘wowed’. The strength of Johnson’s music is precisely this – it forces its audience to have a complex reaction (whether positive or negative), rather than simply trying to impress its audience with superficial charms.

But I wonder (and I’m far from the first) if the standard concert format is conducive to this sort of musical engagement? Certainly, I’ve been to concerts where the space and acoustic have permitted an intimate connection with the performance, but most concerts seem to resemble a presentation by a performer to an audience, rather than an interaction between audience and performer.

It’s only natural that, as the repertoire evolves, the concert format needs to evolve in sympathy. This is not necessarily something that needs to be forced, and probably can’t be predetermined. But it’s incredibly exciting to be there, in the front row, as performance practices for the blisteringly new are explored.

Coming up in Melbourne

Tonight is Lucky Number – a performance of music by little-known Australian experimental composer Syd Clayton.

Tomorrow is ModArt09 – new works for vocal ensemble performed by The Song Company directed by Roland Peelman.

Tuesday 28 July is ELISION in Session – including modern classics by Richard Barrett, Liza Lim, Michael Finnissy and Roger Redgate, and some very recent and new works by Richard Barrett, Jeroen Speak, Ben Marks, Evan Johnson and Robert Dahm.