Julius Juzeliunas - Zaidimas

Last night was an event I had been waiting months to happen. Admittedly it also came alongside the small dilemma of a which event do I choose; Julius Juzeliunas's Zaidimas or Kaija Saariaho's l'Amour de loin, both of which are operas I without a doubt adore, but for the significant reason that this was the first 'fully produced' rendition of the Zaidimas; and because Julius Juzeliunas features heavily in my dissertation Zaidimas outright won. 

I have discussed the wonderful Juzeliunas a lot this year, 2016 being his centenary, so I do not need to go in depth about his work; however I do recommend people investigate my other posts about the composer. But the opera Zaidimas is a fascinating item to observe. Firstly the opera was written in 1967, and after an unsuccessful attempt to put on a production in 1970, a private rendition was done in 1971; this was merely to try and convince the singers and sadly to no avail (singers not likely contemporary music!? How could this be a real thing). Due to this, the first rendition of the piece did not appear until 2006 when it was decided it would be a wonderful token to mark Juzeliunas's 90th; an occasion he missed by only a few years. This rendition was recorded and produced by the music information centre and was ultimately how I became aware of the work of Julius Juzeliunas at all. 

The opera is in two acts and in based on the text Die Panne or The Breakdown by Friedrich Durrenmatt. The plot depicts our main antagonist Alfredo Traps, who after his car breaks down, finds himself in a countryside tavern where he is greeted by the host who offers to play a game where he and former colleagues 'act out' a trial with Alfredo Traps as the defendant. The first act shows Traps as a confident character who is successful, a womaniser of some degree, and most of all important. As the opera progresses we discover this bravado is for show and the cross examination from the lawyers break this down. The second act, is entirely different in mood as the is a sense of impending doom, like the 'trial' has transcended imagination and has become real. We discover Traps did have an affair with the wife of his boss which the four 'judges' decide is a criminal offense and sentence him to death. The opera ends when the 'judges' have discovered Traps had hung himself. 

This farcical is full of twists and turns, and ultimately you never know where you stand. The psychological tension is huge but indescribable. In last night's programme notes, Jurate Katinaite, had draw parallels between this opera and the likes of Shostakovich and Janacek, but I think there are stronger similarities between this opera and Britten's Turn of the Screw (admittedly the only opera by Britten I actually enjoy) it is also a two act opera, but the emphasis on little action and focus on psychological tension, which in both cases is dictated by the orchestra, shows two operas producing a very similar effect on the audience. 

With last night's performance the seven soloists mostly consisted of singers who were involved in the premiere recording ten years ago, with the exception of Tadas Girininkas (Alfredo Traps) and Lina Dambrauskaite (Ponia Gigaks). Each of them really bought out the charm and wit of every character but also everyone was able to bring out the darker sides of everyone further adding to the great psychological tension in the air. I was remarkably impressed with Tadas Girininkas, he really made the role his and I hope it is one I witness him repeating in the future. All the judges were very skilled in their parts, but I felt Rafailas Karpis (Cornas) and Arunas Malikenas (Kumeris) really stood out. Jovita Vaskeviciute (Simona) was a gorgeous voice and it was a joy to hear again, but most of her arias I felt were rushed; admittedly her parts mostly consist of singing about salads, meat, and soups that are on offer, but taking the time in them really neutralises the mood and further blurs the direction of the opera. 

The orchestra, under the baton of Gintaras Rinkevicius, were on pretty solid form throughout. The balance at times was questionable, but when I was sat so close to the percussion section that I could have brushed their hair its hard to say if what I heard was entirely accurate. The live performance is far more visceral and also I have the distinct feeling that as Gintaras has returned to the piece he has found new life within it, which he didn't find in the recording ten years ago. 

The night was fantastic and I think the fact the venue was overflowing with people that the opera needs to see the light of day again. A part of me hopes that companies like Glynebourne, Opera North, and that ilk discover this opera mostly so we can put Shostakovich to bed; I am just bored of opera companies turning east and choosing only Russians we have heard thousands of times before, this opera is wonderfully fresh and would be great to add a bit of diversity to British shores. 

Rant over,  and in all seriousness I am so glad I had the opportunity to witness this opera as it does stand as a personal favourite. And to quote Mindaugas Urbaitis, who I had a little chat with after the concert; 'My teacher did good'. And on that charming note, have a listen to the sixth scene of the opera which was released in 2009. Also as the year is coming to the end 2017 will have a lot of new things in store and I will be starting a few new little entities for this blog, so look out for those in the future. 

 

Su Gimtadienu Onute Narbutaite!

Last night, in the wonderful setting that is Filharmijos Didzioji sale, was the finale in a triptych of concerts celebrating Onute Narbutaite's 60th Birthday. As it was the finale of a collection of concerts, of course this concert would be the largest one. The repertoire of this particular concert consisted of three significant orchestral works by the composer: La Barca (2005), Krantas upe simfonija (2007), and her leviathan Symphony No. 2 (2001). The three works written within six years of each, depict a composer at her seminal moment; the moment where she has stepped out of the shadows and has appeared purely as Onute Narbutaite. 

The first work to be performed was La Barca written in 2005, the stand alone orchestral work is a wild beast. With its opening clatter and roar (which was evidently too much for one audience member who promptly left after the first stanza) shows Narbutaite at her most ferocious. The work is powerful, colourful and quite simply intense. This piece, which is full of drama, intrigue, and flourishes really should be better known worldwide! The orchestra tackled it with almost a sense of ease, or simply they felt at one with Narbutaite's work. The latter is definitely apparent of the conductor Robertas Servenikas who seems to always be present when someone is performing Narbutaite.

After the usual shuffling came Narbutaite's Krantas upe simfonija (Symphony No.4) (2007). Out of all the works in the programme, this was the only piece I was not familiar with before last night's performance. In short, it is a real curiosity. Mostly because it seems to be on the edge off an imminent shift in the sensibilities of the composer. It features all the hall marks of Narbutaite, with its rich orchestration and sheer potency, but also featured an out of character sense of calm. Of course, preceding works by Narbutaite have had calm sections, or felt calm, but the sense of calm was quite different in this circumstance. Ignoring the almost spectral sensations of resonance that appeared in some of the calm moments, the sheer mood of the work was simply different; even now I am struggling to put my finger on exactly what was different about this symphony. Maybe it is just something as simple as the posturing towards a symphony. Symphonies have a world of different approaches and semantics behind them which many composers have tapped into in various ways. So this one maybe approached the symphony in a more Beethovian manner, with the sense of holding a place, allowing it to extend into the next thing but never feeling overtly destructive or at odds with itself. The work is truly astounding, and I really hope a recording exists!

The finale came in the form of the elegant Symphony No. 2 (2001). A truly seminal work, and a personal favourite of mine. Those of you who are familiar with this blog will know I covered the work quite recently responding to Mirga Grazinyte-Tyla's article in BBC Music Magazine. You can see it here. The orchestra were on solid form within this piece, and hats off the trumpeter for performing one of the most terrifying solos I think there is for the instrument. Nothing causes stress quite like a solo where any split note could ruin the whole symphony. What is interesting to observe is the change in mentality towards the symphonic form. Symphony No.2 and Tres Matris Symphoniae  both share an almost Mahlerian quality, with their potent drama and long extended melodies. Whereas I mentioned in Krantas upe simfonija the sensation is more in line with Beethoven. Either way it is fascinating to observe, and as one of Lithuanian's most prolific symphonists (Balakauskas has 5 and Juzeliunas wrote 6) she is a vital source of work for the nation and for the symphonic repertoire. 

The whole concert was wonderfully performed. The performing felt as natural as breathing, you could tell the orchestra felt at one with the work of the profound composer. It was particularly joyous to see Robertas Servenikas truly in his element, watching conductors conduct, you do notice the moments they really lose themselves to the performing and just truly madly and deeply love what their arms are making an orchestra do. My only thought about the whole night, is why wasn't there a new work from Onute Narbutaite? I know her collection of work is huge and magnificent, but particularly after having three concerts to celebrate her, it would have been wonderful to commission a new work; a concerto perhaps or even a song cycle to rival Das Knaben Wunderhorn? Beyond that there is nothing I can add to last night. A true joy and I hope she continues to write for a long time to come!  

Raimo Kangro - Clicking Symphony

As it has been a while since I did a little look at a singular piece and considering the world around us currently I couldn't think of anything better than to look at Raimo Kangro. As the world around us is becoming an incredibly scary place what with Herr Trump and Britain playing Russian Roulette we all kind of need something just to give us a brief moment of respite. 

Raimo Kangro, born in 1949, is one of the most significant voices of the Estonian neo-classical trends which had manifested in country during the Soviet years. Kangro's music is fascinating to observe because of its wit and charm. A student of Eino Tamberg and Jaan Raats, Kangro's music seems to thrive on an overt simplicity and stability of harmonic language which in turn is used as a platform for everything else to spring from it. Within Kangro's large body of works are a huge collection of concerti, symphonies, and piano works. I have previously discussed one of his concerti for two pianos which not only exploits the full potential of dialogue between the forces but also explores a full spectra of extended techniques to build quite a magnificent work. 

The neo-classical elements within Raimo Kangro's work stuck with him throughout his working life. Another curious element of his works are his hommages. He produced a curious cycle of twelve portraits all of which celebrate composers he admires from Mozart and Vivaldi to Reich and Schubert. This connection to history never makes his music feel conservative or backwards, and dare I say; may even put him in a better light than other prominent neo-classicists like certain members of Les Six or even Stravinsky (whose neo-classical works do make we want to cry sometimes, as they never quite match the wonder of earlier works and just make Stravinsky look like a bit of a charlatan).

Anyways back to the Clicking Symphony (Ploksuv sumfoonia) (1993). The four movement symphony, written for an army of mandolins (the composer does specify mandolin orchestra, but I do feel a large gather of mandolins can only really be described as an army or armada) has all the 'typical' architecture of a symphony, with a lively vivo for the first movement, a contrasting con moto and sostenuto for the middle movements, and a brief vivo to conclude. The four movement are more akin to Haydn in character, as they only last about approximately four minutes each, and the finale is a blink of just a minute, so there is no Wagnerian or Mahlerian self indulgence in this symphony.

The first movement starts with a brisk articulated driving momentum. The first subject is energetic and the discourse between all the forces extremely conversational. The pulsing accompaniment and strong force in the lower elements of the orchestra give the music its unique twang (pardon the pun). What is fascinating to observe in the symphony is the fact this symphony functions identically to say a symphony written purely for string orchestra, there is no hint at trying to adapt the musical dynamic to the forces. The other fascinating element is due to the brevity of the first movement you can just sit make and marvel at the wondrous craft of the architecture.

The second movement, has an air of scherzo about it, it is playful and spritely. It is a smidgen steadier but this doesn't deaden the jollity of the work. The use of pulsing cycles and irregular rhythms makes the work a joy to listen to, and is like some of the more overtly playful works of Bartok.

The third movement is rather serene and stands as the largest movement of the symphony. The rolling harmonies and sustained sound of a double bass give the perfect backdrop to a moving melody. The melody steadily grows and the anticipation and excitement grows with it. The beauty and serenity of the melody never feels sentimental as the inner dialogue is still bustling with energy and there is still a spring in the step of the orchestra throughout. It is hard to say which movement is my favourite, but it is definitely a contest between this and the opening.

The finale is brief but fun. Maybe I love the whole symphony because it never takes too long and just says what it needs to. The drive in finale is rather extremely, especially after the calm of the third movement. In the finale we see brief snippets of the opening movement, almost alluding to an overarching sonata form throughout the four movements. A neo-classicists equivalent of Inception, a sonata form within a sonata form.

The whole symphony is just a treat, and I think the perfect tonic to the recent dark days we have been witnessing. The whole symphony has a brief tang of Vivaldi within it, but it is hard to say if it is because of the musicality of the work, or the fact there are mandolins. The whole symphony is on Spotify and is accompanied by a surreal but wonderful mix of works written for mandolin orchestra, definitely worth a listen. Anyways until next time! 

Quick look back at GAIDA 2016

As GAIDA 2016 is coming to its close, admittedly there are three concerts left, I thought it would be a nice opportunity to reflect over the festival this year and contemplate my highlights and so on. Also for those who are curious, I am doing this now as the final three concerts have no connection to Baltic music, and almost everyone internationally knows Philip Glass and the Kronos Quartet, so I don't need to fill people in on it.

This year's festival has been wonderfully varied with ensembles from all over Europe being involved, performing music from across the globe. Like every year, there are multiple world premieres from Lithuanian composers and this year there were some real treats indeed. 

For those who read my review of the Quartettissimo concert, know how struck I was by ArtVio's wonderful performing, but also by the premiere by Ramunas Motiekaitis. X Ciklai by Ramunas Motiekaitis, was a truly masterful work, the colourful dectet really demonstrated the breadth of the composer's musical palette. The modest brilliance of the work still strikes me, this long after the premiere, a real joy to behold and I desperately need to get hold of the recording! 

The premiere of Vykintas Baltakas's commentum for cello and orchestra for me was another great highlight. Admittedly I don't know what I loved more, Baltakas's wonderful music or the wonderful performance of Francesco Dillon. Either way it really was wonderful to watch. 

Juste Janulyte's Harp is a Chord was another surprise. For me the previous excitement was mostly in the curiosity of how Juste would tackle the confusing combination of Harpsichord and Accordion, especially when many of her previous works depend on the similarity in colours. The work was truly glorious, the interaction between the two was inspired. A wonderful piece indeed!

So they were my favourite premieres, but what about concerts? Well for me the many of the concerts were grand, and to be honest some of my favourite concerts I didn't previously review simply due to the lack of Baltic music within the concert. So in no particular order, here are my three favourite concerts. 

I think I should start with Ensemble Synaethesis's debut. The young'uns made their GAIDA premiere, and their premiere in such an international platform. There choice of repertoire was broad and daring, including a premiere by the French Matthias Leboucher, multiple pieces by Michael Gordon, a work by the magical Dane Simon Steen-Anderson, and the majestic Vortex Temporum by Gerard Grisey. I was excited about this concert, mostly because of the performance of Grisey and Leboucher. I was also extremely nervous for the ensemble as it was quite a momentous occasion and I only wanted them to nail it. And damn, did they nail it. They were on the strongest form I have ever witnessed. For such a debut, they gave the perfect performance. They met expectations and smashed most of them, they really showed they are an ensemble on their way onwards and upwards! I was particularly impressed by Synaethesis's pianist, Marta Finkelstein, I say this mostly because Vortex Temporum's piano part is just devilish, and she was just remarkable. The whole ensemble were great, but Marta definitely needs the extra mention. Bravo one and all. As I said in a previous post about them, as long as they continue to broaden their musical horizons, they will be a truly magical ensemble very soon. 

Goska Isphording and Maciej Frackiewicz's duo concert was another joy. As with my curiosity of Juste's piece, I was curious to hear such a peculiar combination in a full concert. Every piece they played, they played with brilliance and panache. Without a doubt one of my favourite concerts. The mix of repertoire combined with wonderful performing was perfect. 

My third highlight of the festival was Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra's opener to the festival. The combination of Kurtag, Baltakas, and Liza Lim was just a magnificent choice indeed. Such a great complimentary combination of repertoire, similar enough they could be paired together, but not so similar it becomes tedious. The orchestra were on pretty solid form, Jonathan Berman was a fine conductor to watch and particularly came to life performing Kurtag's Double Concerto.  A glorious night indeed.

So there we have it GAIDA 2016, bring on next year, and bring on more wonderful concerts this year!

64 strings

Last night saw the most Baltic filled of all the concerts of this year's GAIDA festival. And for me was the concert I waited for with most anticipation; admittedly this was mostly because of the three premieres anything could have happened, and the mix of composers involved I have a real soft spot for their work. The concert was extremely well attended, and had the extra zing of excitement due to the presence of LRT film crew. So lots of anticipation for this particular concert.

So to start off our string extravaganza was a glorious work by the Lithuanian behemoth, Julius Juzeliunas. The performance was a gesture of celebration of the composer's great work, and to mark his centenary which is nice very year. The work chosen to mark this momentous occasion was the composer's fourth quartet, or as it is nicknamed Raga keturiems (Raga a quattro). The quartet is a marvelous conversational work for quartet and rather wonderfully explores the harmonic potential of different ragas without it starting to sound like mere exoticism or cultural appropriation. Like all of Juzeliunas's works it is charming witty and elegantly crafted. His quartets are without a doubt, on par with the likes of Bartok, Janacek, and Schoenberg in regards to significance and brilliance. The performance of this work fell to the CHORDOS quartet, who sadly played it all rather flatly. All the character and nuance of the work ultimately disappeared because dynamic range was too small, very little conviction in the interpretation, and some of the simple gestures like moments of increased bow pressure felt clumsy or even uncomfortable for the group. It was a real shame indeed, I do hope other quartets adopt the work, so they can really hammer home the charm, wit, and brilliance of this quartet.

Next came the ArtVio and Ciurlionis quartet to show us what they could do, in the premiere of Zibuokle Martinaityte's new octet (or double string quartet) Sort Sol. This premiere I was particularly excited about as I have a real love of the work of Martinaityte. Ever since I heard her piece Completely Embraced by the Beauty of Emptiness I have found her work to be brilliantly constructed and full of a unique character and charm. The word Sort Sol is Danish for Black Sun; which is the name for the natural phenomenon where lots of birds fly in a huge dense flock. I was curious to see how this could be translated into a work for eight instruments. The work was well crafted, and the colours in the ensemble were beautiful. The harmony is very heavily focused around open fifths, but I couldn't quite tell if that was to fit with the black sun or to accommodate the fact fifths are the most common interval on string instruments. I was curious to see that Zibuokle herself had resigned herself to conduct the work, especially as in this performance it felt like the performers had stopped communicating as a group, and just stared at the composer. The other issue I had with the work was simply it owed too much to Juste Janulyte. There were too many similarities between Sort Sol and Elongations of Night by Juste Janulyte. Which ultimately is a shame as Zibuokle is a magnificent composer in her own right. I desperately and highly recommend everyone to visit her soundcloud, to hear her wonderful music. 

Then after some more shuffling came the second of the night's premieres. This came in the form of a dectet for two string quartets, accordion, and percussion by Ramunas Motiekaitis. All of you who read this blog, know how much admiration I have for the work of Motiekaitis, so to finally have the opportunity to hear it live was a real treat for me indeed. And I was only delighted with this piece. With the quiet flicker of the first notes I knew I was in to hear something magnificent. Like with many of Ramunas's pieces nothing is overstated, every sound has a purpose, an importance which is never pompous or to inflate his own ego, but merely a significance of 'this has to happen now, because it is happening now'. The elegance of the work thrives on the fact it never seeks attention, it merely exists; and throughout existence we the most beautiful elements of life never have to scream for attention, there merely are and with it are beautiful. 

After a large amount of shuffling came one of the leviathans of the night. Ruta Vitkauskatie's Nusviesti lygumai (Event Horizon) for four string quartets was one of the most talked about pieces leading up to the concert due to the sheer number of quartets involved. Admittedly this isn't the most amount of string quartets I have heard in relation to a piece for string quartet. Horatiu Radulescu's seminal fourth quartet is for nine quartets, he addressed the necessity of this gargantuan size through extreme use of scordatura, to create the sensation of an 128 stringed instrument. Ruta Vitkauskaite's work was not trying to compete with this outlandish work, but rather exploited the antiphonal potential in the space. This kind of idea is not a new one in music, Thomas Tallis and Gabrielli both exploited the potential of this within their sacred works, but this does not mean there isn't still life in the idea. The opening was joyful, mostly because it was the most overtly melodic piece I think I have ever heard from Ruta. The seamless passing of the melody was wonderful and had a real life to it. Sadly this joy was short lived, as 'extended techniques' were chucked into the mix and just didn't feel right in the piece. Maybe if, like in Radulescu's fourth, the work was an hour long she could have really explored all the ideas and made a really magical exploratory experience of it. But sadly it did not quite reach that point. 

After a much needed break, mostly to recover from a rather uncomfortable seat, we returned to be greeted by ArtVio performing Simon Steen-Anderson's Study for String Instruments No. 1. For those who don't know the magical work, this piece simply gives you what it says; Simon Steen-Anderson really is the ronseal of composition. The work simply explores articulation and musical gesturing within glissandi. The quartet surprised me. Mostly because I felt the sensation that they were intuitively built to play works of this magnitude. Contemporary music does divide performers, mostly because many performers are scared of making the 'wrong' interpretation, or merely not knowing how to interpret it at all. ArtVio really took the piece in their stride, and really showed they are a force to be reckoned with. Bloody well done. 

Following this, and lots of shuffling about, came Peteris Vasks's Viatore for string orchestra. Written in 2001 the work is very typical of Vasks's current sensibilities, with its rich harmonies and chorale-like textures. I really, really love this piece; so I was very excited at the opportunity of hearing it. I was delighted to see the 11 musicians were daring enough to perform the work without conductor, but sadly their bravery didn't deliver much to the piece. As Vasks's music is so open performing it without a clear idea of what you want to say in the piece is detrimental to the overall effect of the music. The music is still very pretty, but it is fare more powerful when performed with a powerful intent. This lack of intent was also apparent as dynamic differences were barely noticeable and interaction felt a bit limp. Thankfully performances of Vasks are a bit like pizza: good pizza is amazing and bad pizza is still pretty amazing. 

The finale came in the form of Gintaras Sodeika's Tettigonia perdida, Dada Concerto Grosso. The work for solo piano, solo cello, and strings is very typical of Sodeika. Cheeky, heavily jazz influenced, and rather optimistic. The soloists really tried to bring out lots of character in their parts, but despite their efforts issues like balance and rigidity ultimately ruined the effect. Because the ensemble weren't conducted, one of two things were going to happen. Either the soloists lead and interact with the group, dictating tempo changes and so forth; or everyone would become to fixated with their own parts and forget to interact. Sadly the latter was the result, and particularly in works heavily influenced by jazz, rigidity in the music ultimately makes the atmosphere feel laboured. Even though Sodeika's music has a lot of personal charm to it, the music needs fluidity otherwise it is somewhat akin to my youth playing 'swing' with brass bands; nothing ruins swing quite like a colliery band, and nothing ruins jazz like stagnant classical musicians. 

The highlights of the concert were without a doubt ArtVio's rendition of Simon Steen-Anderson and Ramunas Motiekaitis's premiere X Ciklai. More from them please!

Harpisaccordion

On a wet and windy Sunday evening, we had all gathered to witness one of the most curious concerts imaginable. Harpsichord and Accordion duos! Yes you read correctly, Harpsichord and Accordion. The instrumentation is immensely mismatched, mostly due to the natural nature of the instrument. What are the possibilities? What is the repertoire? Who on earth has been writing for this mix? The concert repertoire was almost as varied as the instrumentation; Grisey, Vasks, Janulyte, Moc, Steen-Anderson, and Jodlowski. The atmosphere in the Contemporary Art Centre was full of the same intrigue and curiosity.

Michael Moc's MissA written in 2014 was a curious work indeed. The work plays on the curiosity with in the title. The linguistic pulling apart of the title produces Mass or Missa and Miss A or Miss Accordion. The hommage to femininity is mostly inspired by the performer Goska Isphording, and the Accordion is obviously a nod to Maciej Frackiewicz. The work overall is an emotional response to the aurora borealis Michael Moc witnessed on a trip to Iceland. The opening of the piece had a sustained chord which are subtly adapted by changing the stops of the accordion. The nuanced gesture was very much a kin to works by Olivier Messiaen and Ligeti's works for organ. As the work expanded the distinct differences between the instruments are exploited to drive the musical interaction and texture. The structure was a strong block composition with every segment being very clearly defined, but as the work progressed, the structure did become to feel a tad limp. And like almost all contemporary works for accordion there was loud clusters being stabbed everywhere on the accordion. Beyond the crasser moments the work was fascinating and well written. 

Following this came Gerard Grisey's Passacaille for accordion. The work is a piece written by Grisey before he started studying with Olivier Messiaen. The composer himself abandoned the work and it was not published alongside his list of works. The work's existence is due to a friend and accordionist saving the work and publicly celebrating it. The piece is an intriguing memento of a young Grisey. The language is heavily, if not inseparable from Henri Dutilleux. The lilting lines and beautiful harmonic colours are always a joy. I can understand why Grisey abandoned the work, as it bares no obvious relation to his works later in his life. But it is always fascinating to see where a composer came from, also it is quite interesting as the mood of Passacaille was vaguely reminiscent of Quatre chants pour franchir le seuil, the character of the work is dark and reflective, pondering itself quite profoundly.

Following this, and some mild shuffling preparing the accordion, was Simon Steen-Anderson's Next to Beside Besides No. 3. The piece, like many of Simon Steen-Anderson's works, is curious and entertaining. Having completely broken the instrument, the piece rebuilds music from the shards of the destruction. Maciej Frackiewicz had a real affinity and knack with the piece. Bringing out the character, nuance, and dialogue of the piece.

Then Goska Isphording returned to the stage to perform Kantate by Peteris Vasks. Written in 1980, the work was written during an intriguing shift of Vasks's musical output. His works written while studying in Vilnius (like his first string quartet) are far heavier and more akin to the works of Penderecki. The works of the early 1980's like his second string quartet and this Kantate are shifting towards the modern day Vasks we know and love today. In this state of flux is extended moments of stillness and reflection, combined with outbursts of violence. For me this period is Vasks at his most fascinating, as he uses such a plethora of colours and gestures, as well as showing a masterful craft and brilliance in his work. Kantate is no exception, and Goska Isphording performed it beautifully, the chorale-like moments at the beginning and the violent outbursts were handled immensely and their nuance was never lackluster. She had control and purpose of every gesture in the piece and made everything profoundly musical. 

The next piece, for me, was the work I was most curious to hear within the whole repertoire. Anyone who has read this blog more than once will know I am a bit in love with the work of Juste Janulyte. Previous works have been defined by the exploitation of similarities in tone, so to be presented with a piece with two dramatically different instruments was an intriguing departure indeed. Harp Is A Chord is a play on the name of the instrument and a cheeky nod to the structure of the work. The piece very simply, is built on the exploration of a singular chord; with brilliant flourishes within the harpsichord, which are coloured by a sustained by the accordion. The sensation was like the dance between the ripples and the water. Their active qualities are intensely different but they are one and the same. The real strength within the work is from the simple fact the harmonic language is symmetrical forcing us to sit and just listen. This premiere was a joy, but to be honest this work is merely the beginning of something greater. The potential of this work to turn into a fascinating concerto for harpsichord is huge and I sincerely hope Juste and Goska make this happen!

The finale came in the form of Pierre Jodlowski's Lessons of Anatomy. The work was a sheer joy. Starting with a projections of a harpsichord Goska Isphording slowly walked in an interacted with the abstract electronic sounds and teasing the instrument through gesturing. The distortion of the nature of performance was fascinating to observe and Goska Isphording really bought the musicality out of every gesture, even though the majority of them were 'silent'. After a significant time the piece explodes with energy and the 'real-life' harpsichord intensely interacts with the manic electronics. The pairing was fascinating and a wonderful piece to witness.

The whole concert was a surprising joy. The variety of the repertoire and masterful performing of Goska and Maciej bought the evening to life and produced one of the most succinct concerts I have ever witnessed. I loved every moment, and I hope to see more  from these wonderful performers. Now for a small mental break before more brilliant concerts from GAIDA 2016.

Music in Image and Image in Music

Day two of GAIDA, and we are cracking on with another fine intensive concert. Last night was the first night in a series of concerts in the Contemporary Art Centre (Siuolaikinio meno centras). There was the same bustling and buzzing of anticipation before the concert started and there were audience members from as far away as Norway, maybe a sign of how important this festival is? The concert featured works that combined visual elements alongside the 'traditional' performing. And the repertoire included composers from various nations including Lithuania, France, Belgium, and Australia. What was particularly positive for me was the inclusion of composers who either rarely or never grace British shores; so it was a nice treat to broaden my perspective of the world.

After the usual warm introductions, Stephane Ginsburgh walked to the stage. The concert started with Stefan Prins Piano Hero No. 1 the first part in a major cycle of works. This work I was particularly curious after hearing about it circulating all over the place, including Darmstadt. As soon as the projection starts we are hammered by a violent and hyperactive glitching space. Every note of the piano had been assigned to a visual element and deconstructed piano sound, which created an intriguing sense of dialogue, especially the moment the visual and sound stopped and we just watched a wonderful pianist playing in silence. The whole work was manic and gripping, and was never 'just gimick' it remained powerfully musical and there was always a feeling of narrative, even if it was shouting at you while it attacked you. My only query was why have a performer? The whole piece could have been built purely electronically and with the visuals and could have easily produced the same result. This being said, I have yet to see the other two parts of the cycle there could be the answer to this question in following segments; and secondly Stephane Ginsburgh was truly magnificent! So why should I try to fault a brilliant performer.

Following a large amount of shuffling came the second piece Telosferos by Vytautas V. Jurgutis. From the darkness came snapping, scrapping and popping sounds, it was like a manic advert for Rice Krispies. These sounds slowly started building into distinguishable sounds, I was a little put off by the sound of scrapping polysterine but its use in the piece was effective; so my own personal discomfort from the sound didn't matter. The visuals by Akvile Anglickaite were beautiful, like a minimalistic lava lamp, it mesmerised me and to be brutally honest I could have sat and just watched that without sound; but that is probably due more to seeing similar things in my speech and language therapy during my youth. Back to the concert! Jurgutis's piece was highly influenced by the likes of Lachenmann and the spectralists, but at times I felt it lacked the same feeling of nuance and conversation you hear within Lachenmann. Maybe I missed something, maybe something in the performance was a tad lacking, who knows. All I know for sure is I was a happy bunny watching the pretty lights dance. 

Then more shuffling! This time to clear enough stage so we can see a purely audiovisual work by Thierry De Mey Light Music. The work is scored for one conductor and shows a singular conductor masterfully demonstrating his craft and elegance as the electronics following him and are shaped by his gesturing. The work was truly hypnotic, and I was in love with it. I had a personal little chuckle watching the conductor beat out patterns of cross-rhythm (5 against 3 if I counted correctly), it gave me a flashback to conducting lessons failing to do what the conductor did so masterfully. My only issue with the piece was it felt a tad too long, maybe this was just a sense of the fatigue of having waited along time just to get to the third piece; or alternatively, once the sense of shape was sussed out, it became quite easily to predict what was happening next. 

To be brutally honest, the next piece I kind of dreaded when I read the programme notes. In Matthew Shlomowitz's biography he describes himself as:

'something like a bastard love child of Brian Ferneyhough and Philip Glass'

Now my issue isn't with swearing, or the fact he draws comparison between two almost contradictory to each other. My issue was the tone sounded like he was trying to be edgy. Even though I am still young, watching 'angsty' artists try to shock you by saying nasty words and being crass, become boring very very quickly, mostly because once you investigate past the shock value, there is no art. Marquis de Sade still strikes and shocks people become he is maniacally brilliant, if he wasn't it would just be a lot of rude words.

Thankfully! My judgments were proven to be premature! Thank Christ. Stephane Ginsburgh sat and BANG! it kicked off. The four part composition played on singular elements be it terrifying and almost hilarious electronic sounds or simple melodic lines which were distorted so heavily they were barely recognisable. Structurally it was magnificent and amazingly funny. And thinking back to his comments, this piece could almost be the exploration of that personal existential crisis of landing slap bang in the middle of the two. Once again Stephane Ginsburgh was impeccable and in total control, adding to the humour in a sweet way. Just a joy!

After the break came Michael Beil's Karaoke Rebranng! I was fascinated as the quartet performing were young musicians from Synaethesis Ensemble playing, so I was intrigued how they would tackle a piece in this concert. The work was curious indeed, the musicians would stand, play something, then sit. Each contributing almost at random, but once the video footage followed and looped on itself, the structural devices began to become clear. The layering of lines and harmonisations of this sporadic movements suddenly turned these fine musicians into mechanical automatons. They functioned like clockwork and the young musicians nailed it! What I found particularly wonderful was the structure kept surprising me. Always tricking me. The finest example was towards the end when Marta Finkelstein, Monika Kiknadze, Arminas Bizys, and Lukas Budzinauskas all left the stage, we were left with just the visuals; I naively thought it would draw to a close by showing the recorded performers leaving too. I was wrong, and boy was a wrong! The sudden recitations in German, accompanied by grandeous orchestral stabs came from nothing and were just amazing. Those final gestures were the funniest things I have witnessed in a while. Just brilliant.

Then after a bit more shuffling, came Francois Sarhan's O Piano for speaking pianist and recorded sounds. The work was a sporadic and broken patchwork of quotations. The musical gestures either mimicked or distracted from the already scrambled text. The result was a curious and scatological biography, a performer discussing how they became a musician. The sensation was almost like they had forgotten everything and were trying to remember everything and only pieces came to them at a time. The shape and nuance was inspired, and Stephane Ginsburgh showed how magnificent he was once again. Just wonderful.

The finale came in the form of Anatolijus Senderovas's ...after Chagall. The piece for solo clarinet, string quartet and percussion, was inspired by stained glass he saw in Jerusalem by Chagall. The work started with tiny gestures from the stained glass being played by percussion and clarinet. It was restrained and modest. Sadly this was short lived. Senderovas's music does this quite a lot, starts modest, curious and mysterious then he shoots himself in the foot with music heavily inspired by Klezmer. The piece was unstructured and nonsensical. He tried to do what Peteris Vasks does so masterfully, which is combined 'modern' elements with nostalgic folk elements, in a desperate hope to bring native ancient traditions along with him in this modern lifetime. The gesture is noble, but demands two things firstly structurally and musically everything needs a greater purpose; there is no point in just slamming in a folk element for the sake of it. Secondly and for me probably the most important thing is Klezmer isn't the only musical form to come from Jewish communities, yes it is the most famous, but it isn't the only one. Judaism has been essentially everywhere, and has always brought a wonderful twist to life in the nation by combining their faith and tradition with their environment, my personal favourite is the Birds on Fire CD by Fretwork, which is recordings of music by Jewish composers living in Britain in the 16th Century. Like all great religions there is so much breadth to it and maybe if Senderovas explored some of that breadth we would have heard a much better piece last night.

Anyways the whole concert was magnificent. The quality of performance was astonishing, like always. Lithuanian Ensemble Network are a very fine group indeed and have done many wonders for Lithuania. Another fine concert for GAIDA 2016. Now bring on today's concert!