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By Rasmi Simhan, Bee Arts Critic Sacramento Bee Sextet gives new music a good rideEven the most ardent fans of classical music often balk at contemporary
works. The flute might seem to sneeze and the violin to moo. The listener
can't predict what note will come next or feel the familiar sense of
tonal tension and relief.
Yet listeners can tune in for the same reasons
they do to Bach or Beethoven.
They might appreciate the musician's technical brilliance or emotive
power, feel intellectually satisfied by the way the piece is structured
— or simply
be swept along by the mood.
But it takes a good set of musicians to
guide people through music that is new to them. Such musicians forge
connections between their
own parts and the others, just as characters in a play relate to each
other. The way
a good musician plays is as unique and expressive as an actor's voice;
intonation and even body language encourage an emotional response from
the audience.
It's not as easy as selling a Beethoven symphony. But
if anyone can pull it off, it's eighth blackbird, a contemporary-music
sextet that
played beautifully Saturday night at a half-filled Mondavi Center.
The performance of the ensemble, which was formed at Ohio's Oberlin
College in 1996,
was
part of the SummerARTS program at the University of California, Davis.
All six compositions and musicians shattered expectations of how an instrument
sounds. Molly Alicia Barth's strident flute seemed propelled
by raw energy — hardly the usual twittering bird or sonorous early-morning
sound. If violinist Matt Albert and cellist Nicholas Photinos had had
saws
in their hands instead of bows, they could have sliced cleanly through
their instruments at certain points. And Lisa Kaplan showed a breathtaking
command
of the piano's voice, molding it into everything from a drum set to
drops of water. Her tone quality was achingly beautiful, especially
in Steve Mackey's "Indigenous
Instruments" (1989).
Though some sounds seem like aural jokes, they're
hardly easy to make. One can learn the technique for producing a rich,
full-bodied sound
on the clarinet or a heart-tugging glissando on the cello. But no common
wisdom
exists for, say, making the clarinet produce a sound like feedback,
as Michael J. Maccaferri did to startling effect. Both composers and
musicians must
experiment and uncover hidden personalities in their instruments —
or in instruments called for in the score, such as the glasses of water
in Gordon
Fitzell's "Violence" (2001). The xylophone, subtly played by percussionist
Matthew Duvall, created a haunting pulse in Laurie San Martin's "Octurnal" (2001).
The staging helped guide listeners through the pieces without becoming a
distraction. During David Schober's "Variations" (1999), the
musicians turned toward or away from each other to reflect the mood
of each variaton, whether active and engaged or distant and cool. The
eerie red-and-blue
lighting during "Violence" accentuated the strangeness of the sounds
the instruments made, from the high keening of the violin to the asthmatic
flute.
The finale, Frederic Rzewski's "Coming Together" (1971),
merged music with excerpts from a letter by Sam Mendes, a prisoner
killed during
the 1971 Attica prison riots. Starting with a quiet, deadpan rendering
and building to a terrifying crescendo, the vocals and music illustrated
the
different ways words may be interpreted.
Composer Mackey, a Princeton
professor and UC Davis alum, demystified the process of writing such
music in a brief talk to the audience before
the ensemble played his piece. For his work "Indigenous Instruments," the
guitarist said, he played around on a cello with tape in place of frets.
He liked the sound, but he wasn't sure what to add to it until he heard
a UPS truck drive past: vrooom. He then tried to find a way to imitate
that sound with traditional instruments. In short, composers don't
jot down music that descends from the heavens,
he said. "We take dictation from any place we can get it."
Performing "dictation" takes
a lot of practice and a little bit of chemistry to create the impression
that a sextet is a single powerful
instrument. Works such as "Variations" and Adam Murphy's "A
One Act in Two Parts" showcased the musicians' rapport and impeccable
timing. They passed a note among themselves as easily as they would
toss and catch a ball. It probably wasn't as easy as it sounded, but
one imagines
it was as much fun as the ensemble made it seem. Between pieces, they
swapped grins and shared their enthusiasm about the Davis program.
Talented
and engaging groups such as eighth blackbird can do much to
dispel misgivings about new music.
Copyright 2003 Sacramento
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