Pop music at a festival of new music is always a bit disappointing to me, but a set that starts out somewhere quite intriguing and then subsides into the ordinary is very discouraging. Fortunately, the other three acts I attended of this festival were fine. Evening number two, for instance, started with Jérôme Noetinger and Lionel Marchetti on two tape recorders (supplemented by various objects), both identified as Revox B77s, though in my picture, they look like two different makes of machine. Noetinger and Marchetti have played together many times for many years, so expectations are high. The possibility of being safe and predictable is high in such circumstances as well. But they are quite adept at giving thrilling and unpredictable performances.

Le Grand Barouf also performed this evening, but I skipped that, perhaps foolishly. It seems a foolish decision now, looking back at it.

Next evening opened with a film by Laurent Chanez, Monster 600, with music by Arnaud Rebotini and Christian Zanési, which segued into a solo set by Zanési. This provided an interesting contrast to the Marchetti/Noetinger set. The former was two performers as opposed to one, with all that that implies. In the former, the preparation was consisted largely of setting up the noise makers, I’m guessing. In the latter, the preparation of musical objects–phrases, drones and the like. At least that’s how things sounded to me. The latter came across like a piece of music more than as an improvisatory set. Both satisfying musically, of course. And in any case, nice to have such different aesthetics in the same festival, especially such a short one. (And if you’re thinking, “of course you have different aesthetics in the same festival,” well, it doesn’t always happen, that’s all.)

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The next evening, the last show I attended, was a performance by Pierre Henry of two of his pieces, a long and often quite attractive piece called Trajectoire. Ligne que suit le corps lancé and a short piece in his faux rock style, which the kids really seemed to dig.

Though a composed piece, and despite some obvious recurring motifs,Trajectoire didn’t really sound like a piece, as a thing that hangs together. Of course, since it is supposed to be conveying episodes in a life, it’s no surprise that it sounded episodic. And it supplied another variation on the forms of improvisation and composition happening in the festival.

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All in all, a most enjoyable experience. If you’ve never been to Kontact sonoreS, don’t let another opportunity pass you by.

Asymmetry’s report on last year’s festival (the first Kontact sonoreS for us) is coming up next.

Asymmetry has only attended one Ultima festival, and so can only say that if the others were as good as the one in 2009, we deeply regret all the ones we have missed. This was simply a most pleasurable experience, a variety of good music, well-planned events, and a splendid staff. Plus Oslo, where it’s held, is a simply lovely place full of simply lovely people.

Two things really stood out in my mind. One was that certain things like noise and improv were present (good) but rather isolated, segregated, from the other festival events (not so good). At least they were there and were well done. Perhaps in subsequent years those have been better integrated.

The other thing that stood out was the preponderance of theatre. As long as I’ve been interested in twentieth century music, I’ve been fascinated by the theatrical elements of so much of it, from performers simply leaving the stage to walk around the audience while playing to all the delightfully theatrical Fluxus events. (I’ve performed George Brecht’s Incidental Music, myself, a dozen times in the past thirty years.) And I haved always wondered why new music people didn’t jump on video technology right away, as that theatrical component just doesn’t come off on LP or CD.

In the 2009 Ultima Festival, the theatrical elements went the whole range, from the hand gestures of On. Taps and Disparate Scenes to fully staged productions like Live Nude Girls XXX.

And everything in between.

Some of that “everything in between” included an evening of Kagel presented by the Cinnober Teater. A most delectable evening of Kagel mayhem.

There was also a fair amount of percussion music, other than what I’ve already put in the theatre category. James Wood’s Village Burial with Fire could easily have been put there, I suppose.

As could the outdoor performance of Reich’s Drumming, too, I suppose.

And while we’re on the topic of percussion music, I cannot end this report without a mention of Christian Blom’s installation, al-khowarizmis mekaniske orkester.

A great show overall. I’m sad I missed 2010 and 2011.

But first, Robert McBride introduced a “performance” of John Cage’s 4’33″ (by all of us). This piece really could have used a performer to focus on. It didn’t look to me that any but a few of us, three?, were really paying any attention at all to all the various sounds that happened in that time. And very interesting and various they were, to be sure. But no one seemed to know what to do or how to take it. A performer would have helped, I think.

Cage’s piece may indeed be almost 60 years old (prompting another panelist to opine that a piece that old shouldn’t be called “modern” any more), but it can still piss people off, beginning with one of the panel members walking out to catch a four and a half minute smoke in the lobby and returning to offer her opinion that Cage was a sham. Unfortunately, that’s about all that came across about Cage. No real, substantive conversation about his contributions to music or to his continuing influence on current artists–and that in spite of Mr. McBride’s gallant efforts.

And the delightful performance of Cage’s charming Suite for toy piano was overshadowed by louder and flashier performances of louder and splashier music. Too bad.

At least one of the loud and splashy things was the superb Psappha, a much more nuanced piece than “loud and splashy” describes, of course, and sensitively performed by Florian Conzetti. And, appropriately enough, Psappha includes several quite long silences, which tied the show together musically with evening’s opener.

A mixed show, and not always a successful mix, but still quite entertaining on the whole. Looking forward to the rest of March in Portland, OR.

The Studio seats about 200, but at no time were there any more than 70 people there, scattered about. On the other hand, there were never any fewer than 30, and the attendance hovered around forty for the duration of this free concert.

In short, only a couple of hundred people in Portland, a largish town, heard even part of a splendid performance of this rarely performed piece. Rare not because it’s hard to listen to–it’s not–but because its length demands such stamina from the players. And only about ten of us, maybe twenty, were there for the whole time, discounting potty breaks. Those four hours went by very quickly, too, for me anyway. So I would like to go on record as saying that at least half of this statement from the program “Late pieces by Morton Feldman are daunting to listeners and performers alike” is simply not true. Daunting to play, may be. Delightful to listen to.

I bought the six hour Flux quartet dvd of this piece several years ago, but have never had the time to devote to listening to the whole thing. So up to 24 February, I had never heard any of this piece, no youtube clips, nothing. I can now say that it’s intimidating length conceals a piece of exquisite charm and delicacy, a truly lovely piece of music made up of many and various short sections, which sometimes segue into each other smoothly, sometimes not. There’s a lot of repetition (less in this four hour version), but there’s a lot of diversity as well, not only from section to section but within each section as well.

Although this was my first hearing of this piece, I cannot imagine it played any more beautifully or perfectly than Third Angle played it. Rich tone, perfect intonation, razor-sharp ensemble, and a palpable love for this lovely music. No praise can be too high for this performance.

Performing were Ron Blessinger and Greg Ewer, violins, Brian Quincey, viola, and Hamilton Cheifetz, cello. The next concert featuring the Third Angle Ensemble will be in the Kridel Grand Ballroom of the Portland Art Museum on 10 March at 19:30.

In fact, so many cool things came out in 2010, I’m tempted to do a Favorites of 2010, regardless. But first, 2011.

Hemmelig Tempo, Who Put John Cage on the Guestlist?

Of course. We just reviewed this CD. Of course it’s a favorite. The clip this time is from the title track.

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New Jersey Laptop Orchestra, The Willingness to be Touched

Also of course. Also already reviewed. Its clip this time is also from its title track.

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Radio Royal, Radio Royal

These guys were part of a splendid all day electroacoustic bash that preceded the 2011 Ostrava Days Festival, a report of which will appear some time soon. I enjoyed their live set, but I enjoyed their CD even more. How often does that happen?

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Chaya Czernowin, Shifting Gravity

Czernowin’s music has intrigued me for several years, and this latest release of hers is no exception. Very likable music, easy to listen to over and over again. A fascination with sound, and with silence, that I find endlessly pleasurable. The clip is from the last track, Winter Songs III for ensemble and electronics.

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Ernst Krenek, Symphony no. 4

Older music than Asymmetry usually talks about, but such a long overdue release of really fine European mid-century music, that we couldn’t resist. The other four symphonies have been available for many years, and the vast stylistic gulf between numbers three and five has made me keen to find out about number four.

Fortunately, four is like five.

The clip is from the Allegro pesante.

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Quartet for the End of Space

I suppose that since the late sixties, this title has been inevitable for an album. I’m surprised it hasn’t been used earlier, it’s such a natural.

That’s not why I bought this CD, of course. Along the bottom of the CD are four names, Pauline Oliveros, Francisco López, Doug Van Nort, and Jonas Branch. I’d never heard of the last two, but the first two were enough to send me reaching for my wallet.

Each composer has two pieces on this disc, and I’d say that seven out of the eight tracks are very fine pieces. Never mind which one I didn’t particularly care for; your list of likes and dislikes is bound to be different from mine, anyway.

The clip is from Cyber Talk by Pauline Oliveros.

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Francisco López, untitled #244

I know of two 2011 releases by Francisco López; this is the only one I have heard. It’s made up of recordings underwater and above water on the Paraná and Paraguay rivers. It’s quite a lot less watery than you might expect. It’s just as rich and strange and satisfying as you might expect. The sounds are wonderful as are the long silences (approximately two, three, and five minutes long, each).

The clip is from almost three minutes in to about five minutes in.

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John Cage, The Works for Percussion I

Not to take anything away from any of the other CDs in mode’s Cage series, but this one is pretty special. The Percussion Group Cinncinnati plays these pieces–the five Imaginary Landscapes and Credo in Us–better than anyone else I’ve ever heard. Solid technique and perfect sense of style, beginning with (but by no means ending there!) the decision to use the original variable speed turntables and 78 test records that Cage specified. I don’t care how many Cage recordings you already have; you have to have this one, too. I mean it!

As is appropriate for this music, there are multiple versions of several of the pieces (Two performances each of Credo in Us and Imaginary Landscape No. 4 and two realizations of Imaginary Landscape No. 5).

The clip is from what I consider the first piece of the second era of the twentieth century, Imaginary Landscape No. 1.

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Simon Steen-Andersen, Pretty Sound

The first solo album by one of the more inventive and original composers of the 21st century.

I first heard “Pretty Sound (Up and Down)” in concert. I was quite taken with this piece. Since than, I’ve heard several other pieces by Steen-Andersen, in concert and on recordings. I want more. (There are three other 2011 releases that include his music, on order as I write this.)

The clip is from On and Off and To and Fro, for saxophone, cello and three players with megaphones.

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With the exception of tracks five and six, which merge into each other, each track on this CD is quite distinct and different. But what I have to say about this album is how the tracks resemble each other. That is, all the tracks aside from the last one, track 8, A Study Dedicated to Arne Nordheim. With that exception, these exceptional tracks each create the sensation of movement. Each track, furthermore, goes several different places, unexpected places. Unexpected, but, in hindsight, inevitable.

Quite a cool thing to have pulled off.

But wait, there’s more! Each track (always with the exception of track eight, which is exceptionally exceptional) is full of incident and variety, but none of them ever seem rushed or “busy.” I’m not sure how they did this, but a careful listen to any track reveals that it takes very little time to establish a “line” and even repeat it at leisure. Seconds only.

And what is there to hear on this disc? All sorts of lovely and intriguing things, old school electronic blips and bleeps, radio broadcast stuff à la Crawling With Tarts, new school electronic noises, glitch sounds, turntable sounds, more sounds–all your favorite stuff, all very poised, all very skillfully crafted and beautifully presented.

A exceptionally satisfying disc.

From track seven, Notes from Professor Fokuda’s Mountain Seminar.

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Emmilig Tempo is Eugene Guribye (Professor Waffel), Gunnar Innvær (Doktor Døv), and Håvard Pedersen (Professor Fukoda-san). Cover art by Loulou and Tummie.

Kasem: Musique electroacoustic with formal esthetics.

Asymmetry: Without instruments.

Kasem: Yes. Well, there are instruments in the mix, but not in real time.

Asymmetry: When did you start composing?

Kasem: At twenty-four or twenty-five years old. I started earlier than that with the violin, as interpreter. And then I needed to express myself further on, not only as a player. It was a necessity for me. I wanted two things–to be a violinist and to be a composer. I think that it is important for a composer to play.

Asymmetry: Yes. In fact, most of the composers I know are people who are also players. And I think that’s good.

Kasem: Now I am a living artist. The day I will not be alive, maybe another person will play my music. But, of course, it is possible that in this very same moment another person could be interested in playing my music.

Asymmetry: How did you get started composing?

Kasem: I played the violin, which I like very much. I played in an orchestra in the Colon theater at Buenos Aires, but I got a little tired playing pieces all the time for orchestra. I felt that something was absent. And it was a special moment in my life full of changes, a spiritual moment; it was a necessity for me to express myself, but through my own personal music….

And that moment I knew Alejandro Iglesias-Rossi and it was great, because he told me “you do not have to study the formal technique of composition, you have to compose.” And for me, that was a great moment because I needed to fly alone. It was so imperative as necessity to compose, that it was a matter of life or death. For me it was like salvation.

Asymmetry: When you were playing violin, before you started composing, were you playing living composers, new music?

Kasem: No. I played substantially Bach. It’s great, but when you play Bach, there is the possibility of making mistakes, because it’s not your music. When I play my own music, I don’t make mistakes, because I’m the person who did the piece. There’s no possibility of making a mistake.

Niebla y luz

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Asymmetry: I know a lot of musicians who play older music only; they never play new music. And it seems like for those people, the way they treat their instrument is not respectful. Because it’s always the technique–for playing Brahms or for playing Beethoven. It’s always the technique for playing a certain kind of music.

Kasem: The same global technique with no renewal conduces to play the same type of music.

Asymmetry: And there are so many things you can do with a violin that are outside that technique. It seems like if you really love your instrument, if you really love music, you will want to do other things.

I remember the first time I saw a violinist move the bow up and down the strings rather than across them. Of course!

Kasem: All those things are good. I am not saying that you don’t have to study classical music, but it’s not the only way to play. There are lots of ways to play the violin beyond the occidental technique. I am South American, but my grandfathers are Albanian and Armenian and those traditions give me another way to make music with the violin. Why does America have to copy the music, the technique of another place all the time? American natives have techniques, too, that can be used to play the violin.

In my life I want to do what I want, what I love, not what another person says is good for me.

Asymmetry: When you started composing, you composed for violin first?

Kasem: Yes.

Asymmetry: So how did you go on to electroacoustic?

Kasem: I don’t know.

Asymmetry: “I don’t know”? That’s not good enough! [Laughter]

Kasem: It was a mistake. [More laughter]

It was very strange. I started doing a piece for bandoneon. I started to play a bandoneon, learned how to make sounds with it. And then I put all that into the computer, along with some other things. And I thought it sounded good.

The world of electroacoustics is another world; it is the world of imagination. And I love imagination. So I made a piece with the bandoneon, and I got a premiere, and I won a prize in an acousmatic competition. This encouraged me to continue composing this kind of music. Since that time, I have done a lot of other things. Electroacoustic with live instruments, what we call “mixed music”, for example. Apart from that I continue composing for instruments. I love instruments!

Asymmetry: Before you started composing had you listened to a lot of electroacoustic music?

Kasem: Yes, I did, and I appreciated particularily the pieces of Iglesias Rossi and Mandolini. I really liked electroacoustic music by Ricardo Mandolini. It has a special feeling to it.

Asymmetry: So then you studied composition with Ricardo.

Kasem: Yes, I think Ricardo is one of the most important composers at this moment. Because he has everything in place, technique, form, and heart/spirit. My home is in Buenos Aires, but I will be living in France for two or three years more, studying in Lille with Ricardo.

His music is like a journey. He starts in one place and goes to another world. You can close your eyes and travel to another world. I think his music has a fundamental heart. In this moment, composers have to reconnect with heart. For many years contemporary music showed no heart, it seemed to be done for only a certain group of people. I think contemporary music has to be for people of the world, people that need a change in their life. I would like with my music to be able to transform a person who is in the world, to help somebody who is lost to find himself. I don’t know if I can change something with my music, but I am interested in human beings. I am not interested either in narcissist poses or in small elites where the composers congratulate each other for their music. I think in terms of people who need expression, and for them I would like to do something… popular!

I don’t think I’m just a composer. I am interested in arts and creation in general, not only in the musical field but also in poetry, painting, theater. Creation is life for me. In this field I know that I have learn a lot, I have to live, I have to know a lot of other things. I am also doing a PhD in France concerning spirituality in composition.

Asymmetry: What’s next for you?

Kasem: I’m working on another piece, Los cielos infinitos (The infinite heavens). This piece continues Las aguas abismales (The abyssal waters), the piece that was awarded in Bourges.

Las aguas abismales

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Los cielos infinitos

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Next I will compose Pacha Mama (Mother earth). The three pieces, Las aguas abismales, Los cielos Infinitos and Pacha mama constitue a triptych named Vuelo Iniciático (Initiatic fly).

Asymmetry: It’s interesting that you can finish a piece and then realize you’re not finished, yet.

Kasem: Composing the triptych I realized how creation is relative to life. Both show the continuity of chained experiences.

I think my pieces have too much of my life, how I am at that moment. There are a lot of things that are new to me at this moment. I think that it is not casual that I’m composing the piece Los cielos infinitos at this moment.

You feel that a part of you goes into a piece, but suddenly that piece is not you anymore; it’s another thing. You made it, but then it goes its own way.

And I think that is a good thing.

Next was Eric La Casa, with a mélange of people talking, traffic sounds, low frequency rumbles, bird sounds, and miscellaneous very small sounds very amplified. What really struck me in this set was the combination of really loud front stage sounds (especially drums) and really soft back- or even offstage sounds. Very disorienting, and I mean that in a good way.

La Casa was one of the reasons I had been keen to attend the 2009 Densités, and the next set was another–a trio of Sophie Agnel, Lionel Marchetti, and Jérôme Noetinger. I had heard Marchetti and Noetinger in a spectacular evening of electronics and video in Bourges a couple of years before, out at Emmetrop, so was looking forward to hearing them again. Lionel and Jérôme were solid. Lots of very small sounds extremely amplified and some sudden loud harsh outbursts. I didn’t think that the piano part fit in with all that, or not consistently. Too much of pitches and chords. But she did make a lot of excruciating noises, too, with various toys in the harp, so pretty satisfying all round.

Burkhard Bein’s set started out quite minimally, just a ratchet sound and nothing else. Too soon it left that–too soon for me, anyway. Where it went was very interesting, no argument there. I wasn’t sorry for that. I did want more of the “nothing,” though. (My clip of the ratchet part was overwhelmed by the creaking of my chair that my camera picked up. Schade.)

That first day ended with a noisy set by Jazkamer. That’s all I wrote about it at the time: “Jazkamer is noisy.” A satisfying end to a long and delightful day of music making.

Next day began with John Tilbury. His first set was very simple and assured. Lots of silence. Simple lines. Quite mesmerizing. The second was a bit busier, with talking, preparations, and extra instruments. All of it music to sink into and let it take you wherever it will. This was the first time I had heard Tilbury live. Not the last, though, fortunately.

For all its activity, and there was a lot, the trumpet and saxophone duo of Birgit Ulher and Heddy Boubaker was remarkably static. I mean that in only a good way. What it meant for me was that in spite of all the various things going on, I could easily focus on anything at any time, without feeling I was being shoved along to the next thing and the next. Some of the anythings I especially enjoyed were the different mutes and “mutes” that Birgit held up against the bell of the trumpet; the metal thing that she made to buzz by just barely touching the bell with it was nice, and the feedback mute was even nicer!

Next up were Phil Minton and Isabelle Duthoit, and if anyone had told me that anything could distract me from what Phil was doing, I wouldn’t have believed them. But that is exactly what happened this afternoon. According to my notes, Isabelle’s vocal pyrotechnics were all I seemed to have noticed in this concert.

This was followed by another voice+ concert, which was too bad. Natacha Muslera and Damien Schultz were also good, but Isabelle was such a tough act to follow. I’m sure I would have been much more impressed with Natacha and Muslera if they hadn’t had to play back to back with Phil and Isabelle.

In between those two shows, I stopped by a cool installation by Armel Plunier (with Laurent Albert) that ran throughout the day. “Les Poupées Machines.” I could talk about it, but the video will speak for it much better. (And there are even better videos than mine on youtube, too. Check the ones uploaded by bibou38.)

That evening opened with a solo percussion set by Robbie Avenaim, yet another talented new music guy from Australia, a country that has been churning them out recently like crazy sauce. Really interesting blend of virtuousity and automatic music (human playing and machine playing).

Then there was another “trumpet+” set, this time Greg Kelley and Jason Lescalleet, in which Jason walked slowly around with portable recorders and set them down in various parts of the room, all while recording and playing back with them. And then spent his time going from one machine to the next on tables behind Greg, who also controlled some machines along with supplying cool trumpet noises for the machines to process. Fun to watch, but even more fun to hear. Nice metallic buzzing action with the trumpet and seriously noisy.

The last day of the festival started out with two radically different but both extremely delightful events, an installation/concert by Burkhard Beins and a high-powered, grab you by the throat Hairy Bones concert with Peter Brötzmann, Toshinori Kondo, Paal Nilssen-Love, and Massimo Pupillo.

That there are four clips of Beins and only one of Brötzmann says nothing about the esteem in which I hold these two musicians. Just so you know.

The 2010 visit was bedevilled by technical glitches–Asymmetry‘s recording device inadvertantly destroyed and the text files of reporting on the concerts corrupted. But we did manage to salvage a few comments, enough to show that the 2010 festival was every bit as good as the 2009 one, enough to make us very sad we were unable to attend in 2011.

One highlight of the 2010 festival was the duo of C. Spencer and Okkyung Lee with the addition of Sean Baxter. This trio was visceral and intense. The balloon inflated under the strings of the cello added to that atmosphere, though unfortunately the inevitable “pop!” was not as jarring as one might have hoped.

This was, however, music with a clear sense of purpose, a sense that in no way sacrificed the wildness of free improvisation. Gorgeous!

Jean-Francois Laporte’s Waves was performed with a homemade instrument, all tubes and stuff, with a little plastic-balled striker for one and controls to control the frequencies and amplitudes of each. The sounds ranged from low-level, refrigerator-type noises to buzz saw and then harpy-like screeching. You say that harpies are mythical beasts? Well, just imagine.

For the next piece, Jean-Francois stood on a box in the middle of the audience and swung another (smaller) homemade contraption around. It sounded like one of those howly sticks but engineered for much more variety of tones. It looked like a large metal bee and as he swung it, passed by within inches of people’s heads. The audience clearly was paying attention. Much easier not to drift off when your life is at stake!

In any event, classic Laporte: droning with incredible variation.

Germ Studies featured the guzheng, an ancient Chinese harp, and a synthesizer. Short pieces, mostly in the upper register; delicate but impossible to destroy. Intricate rhythms at the edge of perception. The harp more than held its own against the synthesizer.

http://www.myspace.com/germstudies

And there was a diffusion by Lionel Marchetti of Book II of Trilogie de la Mort by Eliane Radigue. Classic Radigue!

With any luck at all, we’ll be able to make it to the festival in 2012.

There’s a fairly wide stylistic range in this CD, not surprising, given the technology used. As with musique concrète, whose tropes are being rediscovered and reused, laptops allow and perhaps even encourage putting anything together with anything else. So it is in this disc, with bits and pieces of all sorts of musics–even a tiny wisp of country/western, I’m sure of it!–along with speech and electronic noises and all the rest.

Also, as with musique concrète and synthesizer and Kyma and symphony orchestra and piano and any other machines, the machine encourages certain kinds of behavior. For my tastes, there was a little too much of the loop in this. (But I thought that of Yoshihide and Sachiko M’s Warhol Memory Disorder, too, and no one’s going to think of those two as anything but giants of new music.) And too much of the drum machine. But those are personal quibbles. Someone else might find those things the best part of the disc.

In any case, there’s a lot of variety from cut to cut, some like turntablism, some like music concrète, some like Crawling With Tarts, some like mashups, some like old-fashioned jazz or rock jams. The clip is from track 9, “Mistah Cage Struts,” which along with track 10 uses sound bites from the 1960 performance of Water Walk on “I’ve Got a Secret.” (If you haven’t seen that, yet, by the way, you’re in for a real treat. You might want to watch that before you listen to this clip, or at least before you listen to this album, which I would recommend you do!

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Jean-Louis Dhermy’s Pauéphonê also did a fair amount of starting and stopping, and was also mostly quite soft. The one moment when the sound was loud (a kind of drumming on wooden tubes sound) was also the one moment when he used the rear speakers, too. Very simple. Very effective. In the preceding piece of that concert, Florent Clolautti’s A fleur de peau, there was a more subtle (disturbingly so) use of speakers–there were places where there were some swirly sounds, but they did not move around the speakers, something I expected given the nature of the sounds.

Two interesting and effective uses of multiple speakers.

And while there were a lot of nice other things on this first day, including another first live hearing for me–Chion’s 17 minute long Dix-sept minutes, the highlight of the day was Warhol Memory Disorder 11 by Otomo Yoshihide and Sachiko M. Slow, soft wind sounds and art gallery conversations interrupted by bursts of loud electronic mayhem. What fun!

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Day two started off with some Dhomont, always welcome. Corps et âme. There was more Chion, On n’arrête pas les regret, the Bokanowski Trois chambres, and a piece by Vincent Laubeuf, Seuil terrítoires, that had a lot of resonant metal sounds, cymbals and kettle lids and the like, done like I’d never heard them done before. I was intrigued by how many pieces used metal sounds–I have noticed in other festivals other examples of dominant patterns (regardless of any theme for the show). My favorite was a year at Bourges where it seemed that every other piece featured an accordion in some way or other.

On n’arrête pas le regret

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The piece I had most looked forward to hearing on the third day was Lo inefable by Maria Cristina Kasem, whose mentor Ricardo Mandolini had praised her highly to me the year before and whose solo violin piece, which she had played in Växjö some months before, had so wowed me. (Scroll down to the first video clip.) Fortunately, Kasem’s piece was in every way satisfying. It opens with the sound of air forced through an accordion. Once more. Exhale, inhale. Then some very soft singing comes in and then a low frequency rumble under that. As the rumble continues, the (singing) voice turns into breathing, and all the other elements return as well for a powerful and engaging ending for an engaging and powerful piece.

Futura ’09 was a very satisfying weekend on the whole. I just wish I could manage to get to this festival more often than once every three years.