Sunday, April 30, 2023

Thumbscrew pt 3: Composition 14

 


Welcome back, my friends, to the - OK, that's enough of that. But considering how I had originally planned back in June 2021 to write "a bit" about this album (and back then, "a bit" is all I would have ever thought about even trying to write... not that I managed it), it sort of feels as if I have either been dealing with this album, or putting off dealing with it, forever. And there's still more to come! I probably have even still yet one further post in me relating to this album, but in the meantime, I always said I would tackle this particular number - or rather the three different interpretations of this composition - in a separate article. Here goes:

1. a) The composition notes

Comp. 14 dates from 1970, and is dedicated to Joe Chambers. (*) B's notes make it sound as if the piece was performed many times in different contexts, but of course, as we know, it was never officially recorded until Thumbscrew got hold of it. The score - described in the notes as "a 15 x 24 inch page of schematic material", but not reproduced in Composition Notes Book A (although see 1. b) below) - "can be performed in any time length and or (sic) direction", but what never changes about the piece is that it's intended for solo performance. The nature of the graphic score, meanwhile, is consciously designed "as a means to have an elastic structure for any solo single-line instrument"; this in turn is not intended to imply that only single-line instruments can be used to interpret the piece, rather that the score was designed in such a way as not to disadvantage such instruments. Do I really understand what is meant by this, however? I do not.

- There is a theme here: as I mentioned in (what I suspect will become) a significant recent blog post, the composition notes do rather have a habit of failing to clear up the various questions one might have regarding the compositions themselves - although presumably this is far less the case if one has actually studied with B. in person and understands how his methodology works in practice - and in this case, for sure, what I found in pp. 213-220** of Book A led mainly to further confusion. What does seem clear is that Comp. 14 is critically linked to B's concept of language music. (B. explicitly states on p.214 that the work "was conceived to be a vehicle for language music participation" - and similar statements are made throughout the notes.) Beyond this, it is asserted several times how much flexibility is allowed to/required of the individual interpreter (the "procedure gives a new flexibility to the extended interpretive musician") - so much so that when I first read the notes through I found myself concluding that the performer is effectively granted complete licence (and with it the freedom to disregard the score altogether); B. himself realises that is what he is in danger of appearing to say, and clarifies on p.217 that this "should not be viewed as a work without its own particular demands... (it) is not an 'anything goes' work of creativity". To perform the work, he writes, "is to have real insight into the language music foundation that necessitated its construction". 

The reason why such emphasis is placed on flexibility is that before any performance, the musician is expected to "choose a central time unit" (from a table of seven shown on the score - see 1. b)); this will then govern how long the overall performance will last (see 2. below). Any given performance may incorporate multiple run-throughs of the sequence dictated in the score, and a player "is free to repeat or omit any section of material" (p.216). Furthermore, "the language categories can be re-arranged for every performance - which is to say the instrumentalist can basically choose the application terms... regardless of context". At this point, as noted above, it's beginning to sound more or less as if the individual performer is being given carte blanche - hence B's need to dial that idea back a bit. Nevertheless, the performer is expected to make certain choices ahead of time and is then free to make modifications ad hoc during the actual rendition; the piece "is designed to... bring forth new surprises for the creative instrumentalist because its underlying science procedure is open to the dictates of the moment" (p.216). - Which is all well and good; but as I pencil-scribbled during my reading, isn't this true of any (piece heavily reliant upon) improvisation..?

1. b) The score

For whatever reason, this is not actually shown in the book** (although it is described - sort of). Instead the only illustration - on p.220 - is a "floor plan for No. 14" which, unfortunately, sheds no light on matters at all. It is indeed totally unclear how the plan even relates to the piece being delineated in the notes; my best assumption here is that it is somehow germane to one specific performance (?). [All it shows is a hand-drawn rectangle with CONDUCTOR written underneath it, at the foot of the plan; above this, there is a space and then four underlined crosses, designated 1-4 going up the page (or away from the conductor, one behind the other). As I say, how this relates to the piece described in the notes is opaque, given that we know the four crosses clearly do not represent separate performers - unless this was indeed from a particular performance, in which four players took turns interpreting the composition.]

Where we can see the score is in Carl Testa's essay on the TCF site, as I have previously mentioned. There would not appear to be any obvious issue with my reproducing it here - but if anybody legitimately thinks this is problematic, just let me know:


- the "table of seven time units" referenced on p.216 of Book A is visible in the upper right corner. (Tape marks in the lower left corner rather imply that a similar insert may have become detached from the main sheet at some point. What could be missing, I wonder?)

As you can see, there really is minimal information here. There appear to be (at least) two different points of entry to the "map", and once in, there is almost nothing to tell the performer what/how to play. Realistically, there are only three places on the score where precise graphic information is provided - and since there is no explanation of these given in the composition notes, it is to be presumed that anyone working with B. around the dawn of the seventies would have been told how to use them. (A table of "sound classifications" is provided at the beginning of Book A - on pp. v-x inclusive - which lists dozens of symbols and their meanings, but it's still not clear whether these can be used to decipher the symbols shown on the score, or if those latter represent specific instructions for this piece.)

What we do know is that the basic focus was language music... and with that in mind, we may well now ask:

1. c) What do we mean by language music anyway?

This term is so prevalent throughout B's works that it rather feels as if every friendly experiencer worth his or her salt "should" know the answer off by heart by now, without having to ask. But... hell, I don't have to finish this sentence, do I? Ahem... anyway... for what it's worth, my understanding of this term is that it refers at the most basic level to the isolated classification of different types of attack; in practice, when deployed in the context of an actual performance, it tends to indicate that in addition to the score(s) which relate to the primary and secondary territories the musicians will be exploring, the players will be provided with sheets of different symbols - representing different "language types" or units, which is to say different types of attack (trills, buzzes, smears, "bent" attacks etc etc) - and that there will be corresponding places throughout the accompanying scores where the players will be expected to use these language units as they see fit. 

In the context - at once wider, less specific, and yet also more specific since we are told that this is the main focus of the composition - at hand, what then does it mean for the performer-interpreter? It would seem, basically, to mean that each musician is free to decide before playing which language types are going to constitute the focus of his or her performance (as well as choosing the time unit, as outlined above). That's my best guess, anyway... one need hardly add that I could easily be wrong.

So much for the theory..! Now to examine the actual readings, as given by the three members of Thumbscrew.

2. The performances

No matter what other conclusions may be reached here, one thing seems inescapably obvious: that all three musicians decided beforehand on one of the shorter time units for their interpretations. Tomas Fujiwara's reading, comfortably the longest of the three, lasts just three and a half minutes...

2. a) Track 3 (Guitar) (2.24)

Never mind any steps taken by the composer to ensure that single-line instruments were not disadvantaged - Mary Halvorson isn't happy just playing her (chordal) instrument here: she uses a delay pedal (or similar effects unit) to create short-duration loops from her attacks, thus quickly building up a layered tapestry of sound, all of it produced by her. Starting with one single picked note, which promptly repeats, she then weaves in some simple, bright-sounding chords which immediately open up the soundscape - and straight away introduces her trademark whammy-swoop effect. The next variety of attack to appear chimes almost like a bell, but although the sounds being produced are quite different, if there is a language unit at play here, it seems to be that of a decisive, down-picked "declarative" attack. In the second half of this very brief reading, MH introduces some little three-note phrases incorporating large interval jumps. All of this naturally works pretty well with the delay in use, and before you know it, she ceases playing altogether and leaves the pedal looping quietly to a fade.

2. b) Track 6 (Drums) (3.32)

Tomas Fujiwara plays this on (what sounds like) tympani (or another tuned drum/pair of drums) and several cymbals, and creates such a marvellous vivid and evocative soundscape that if one listens in closely, the effect is electrifying. He opens up with quiet little runs of two or three rapid beats leading to a decisive single beat, with a higher pitch; the bigger cymbals are as waves crashing on a beach, or dawn exploding across the sky. The performance gathers pace as TF switches to rolling attacks, punctuated with taps on the hi-hat, and some subtle changes in the rhythmic figures or the playing surface are magnified here. Whilst still a short reading of the piece, this version lasts long enough to pass through two more phases before it ends: from here, it builds to a pitch of excitement with real (controlled) intensity in the playing before settling back, barely perceptibly, minute shifts in the dynamics and pace heralding a slightly more subdued phase at the end. Here, the basic language unit appears to be a short burst of tuned drum beats capped with a cymbal strike; the variation comes above all in the hand-speed, as well as the dynamics, but if all this sounds dry in the description above, it really isn't: as I have enthused previously, TF shows himself to be a superb interpreter of B's music on this recording, and if one pays careful attention here, the result is enthralling.

2. c) Track 9 (Bass) (3.03)

Michael Formanek opens with single notes, careful to avoid playing anything that might sound like a "tune", quickly introducing some tremolo and/or vibrato to most of his attacks, eventually developing this into a strategy of shortish legato phrasings in which a stopped note is dragged up or down the fingerboard a way. Surprisingly, breath becomes an essential (though surely accidental) feature of this reading: the mic is close enough to MF and his instrument that the listener can quite clearly hear the player breathing in and out, throughout the performance.  Single notes are replaced by double stops, and Formanek also plays with creating chords by way of stopped notes and simultaneous open strings. As with the other two readings, this one gathers pace and intensity in its second half. Other than noting the "bent" effect of many of the individual attacks, I am not sure I really identified the basic language unit in this case - assuming there is one.

3. Any conclusions?

Yet again I seem to have doomed myself to being the "bad guy" here, pointing out remorselessly the way in which the trio's presumed lack of studio time led them continually to produce very brief versions of these pieces (- or, in this case, three rather brief versions of the same piece.)

Nevertheless, there is enough to go on here to detect some similarities between the three interpretations, which would seem to imply a degree of discussion and prior agreement as to the way in which the score was to be navigated. All three start with something very simple and develop it quickly, and all three display a notable acceleration in both pace and intensity in the second half of the performance. It's also notable (as pointed out in 2. c) above) that all three musicians use their instruments as sound-producing devices, rather than to play tunes; but given that all three are pretty seasoned improvisers with wide experience of different musical settings and approaches, this in itself is not especially surprising.

Beyond this... I'm not convinced that I really understand the essential nature of the composition much better now than I did before I heard the CD. Unfortunately, it really would appear to be the case once again that the brevity of the readings undermines the fundamental intention behind the recording: in order to shed real light on the essence of the composition - to show how and why the piece is so intimately tied up with B's "language music pedagogy" - we would need longer and more developed readings of the score, and in order to get those, the musicians would need quite a bit more time, and probably a chance to discuss the work directly with the composer (or at least to hunt down any surviving players who performed the piece back in the early '70s, and ask them what they remembered about working on it). Compared to B's later (much more personal and idiosyncratic) scores, this one is largely devoid of signposting and the composition notes don't really help very much in terms of filling in the blanks. Of course, in the "ideal world" which I keep positing... these are merely the first, exploratory attempts to interpret this piece, soon enough to be followed by many others. In this world here, it's quite possible that nobody will ever touch the piece again - but damn, I would love to be proved wrong.

As for the other conclusion, it remains much as it was before: this album can be experienced in two very different ways, depending on the listener's focus (or three ways - the inevitable third being as a quirky set of background noise, but we'll disregard that). Heard out of its larger context, as a set of creative music, this is an extremely rewarding album by a very skilled and well-matched trio, all wearing full explorers' gear. Experienced as a ground-breaking presentation of unheard works by this composer... it can't help but fall short of what it might have been. Sorry, but it just can't. Still, I'm grateful for the attempt and I will continue to enjoy listening to the results. 


* This dedication is pretty interesting in itself: in 1970, Chambers had been making quite a name for himself - at least among creative musicians - as a restless and curious composer. But the sort of work he had brought to Bobby Hutcherson's Components (1966) was so defiantly uncommercial that it couldn't last... and didn't. The idea now of a piece like this being dedicated to Chambers is resolutely incongruous... still, did Fujiwara take it into account when he prepared his own reading?

** p. 218 is completely blank, at least it is in my copy. It's tempting (and therefore slightly maddening) to suppose that this is where the score was meant to appear; maddening, because if this got missed from this one set of notes, what else may have been overlooked..?

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