May 16, 2009: More than an end-of-term recital

Violist Alexa Beattie's Artist's Certificate Recital last night in the Concert Hall of the San Francisco Conservatory of Music was a far cry from what one usually expects from a student recital.  For one thing Beattie is already establishing herself beyond student status as a founding member of the Picasso Quartet and as a member of the sfSoundGroup;  and much of her program seemed more directed at showcasing this latter ensemble, rather than her personal skills.  Since this group concentrates on American "ideas and traditions of experimental music, performance art, live electronic music, and the various facets of contemporary improvisation," one could expect that the program itself would be out of the ordinary;  and it is indeed rare to encounter a program on which Georg Philipp Telemann is the "odd man out," since there was a gap of about two centuries between his A minor sonata and the second-oldest piece on the program, Elliott Carter's 1946 elegy, performed in the version for viola and piano.  While Carter's lyricism was complemented by four song settings by Vartan Aghababian, two from 1988 and two from 2001, the true "Grand Old Man" of this particular evening was John Cage through both his own work and the ways in which he inspired those who came afterwards.

Cage was represented at the very beginning of the program with "Music for Six," performed by the sfSoundGroup.  The program listed the date for this work as 1964–1965, but I have been unable to find a source to confirm this.  Most likely this was a performance of the 1984–1987 work, whose title is "Music for" followed by any number up to seventeen.  This is a work for a "variable chamber ensemble" with seventeen separate parts and no overall score.  The composition was recorded in its "Music for Six" version by The Barton Workshop for an Etcetera CD.  Founder James Fulkerson provided a useful description of the work:

In the works of the 1980's, one begins to see a much different use of pitch and pitch relationships by Cage.  Suddenly, unisons and octaves begin to appear so regularly in his work that one can no longer consider it a chance occurrence.  This is very prevalent in the score, Music for …, a work for up to 17 instruments (Cage initially wrote it for 9 instruments and continued to add parts as occasions demanded.  The title is completed by the number of instruments which are used in a performance).  What happens when these identical pitches begin to occur throughout the performing space – (The performers in Music for … need to perform as widely separated from each other as possible)?  The result is that the listener begins to concentrate on other aspects of the sound – most likely, the aspect that one begins to concentrate upon hearing is the difference of tone colour between instruments as they play the same sound.  In Music for Six, the individual parts are solos in their own right which are prepared individually and then brought together into the performance space where they coexist.  The parts consist of "pieces" and "interludes".  Each "piece" consists of two kinds of music:  A) a single sustained tone, played piano, preceded and followed by silence, repeated any number of times:  B) a number of tones in proportional notation within a limited range, not to be repeated, characterized by a variety of pitches, dynamics, timbres and durations within a limited range.  Each "interlude" is to be played freely with respect to dynamics and the durations of single notes, normally with respect to timbre, but within the time lengths given (5, 10, or 15 seconds), and following the phrasing given.

This approach to composition poses a challenge to my past invocations of the "journey" metaphor for listening experiences.  This music does not progress from a beginning through a middle to some "end of the road."  It simply occupies a duration of time;  and, to a great extent, that duration is the foundation of the listening experience.  (In Cage's most famous work the duration is 4 minutes and 33 seconds, during which time the performer(s) play nothing on their instruments;  and it would be fair to say that the listening experience is that duration.  How one listens is determined entirely by what one hears, i.e. what "registers" at the auditory cortex.)  This approach to "pure duration" remains as revolutionary as it was when Cage first started experimenting with it.  The only change is that, gradually, more musicians are willing to take on the challenge of performing such compositions before an audience, even if most audiences continue to be perplexed, if not frustrated and annoyed.  From this point of view, sfSoundGroup is carrying on an important torch;  and I took their decision to end the evening with a free improvisation as a sign that the torch is still moving forward.  That improvisation exhibited influences of not only Cage but also the "free jazz" movement (which, in turn, was probably also influenced by Cage).

Traditionally, a student recital tends to present the ability of the student to honor the past;  this was a recital that looked to the future and invited us all to see where those gazes would lead us.