I ’ve continued exploring the Hans Zimmer ‘Sherlock Holmes’ soundtrack described in the previous post. There are a variety of spatial effects—things that add considerable dramatic excitement to the score—that can be “deduced” from exploring the recorded cues with tools like Cubase® or Nuance®. Some deductions are, at best, “educated guesses” based on inspection of the digitized waveforms.
F or example, you can get instruments to sound like they are coming from outside the stereo image by inverting the relative phase angle of a channel. Start with a single channel (say, an explosion in this Sherlock Holmes film). Pan it hard-left. Duplicate the channel, and pan it hard-right. Then invert the phase angle (180 degrees). Now start with the volume on the duplicate at zero, and bring up the level on the duplicate/phase-inverted channel. You now hear the explosion on the left move out wider than it was when panned hard left. Sounds like a paradoxically larger space than what appeared to your eyes.
A dmittedly, some of these “film” spatial sonic effects might only be implemented in live chamber music performance by the likes of Maya Beizer or Tod Machover, or other devoted electroacoustic artists. But the prospect of producing (and hearing) live ‘augmented reality’ through DAW processing and sound reinforcement becomes more appealing/exciting the more we understand how it works, even for artists who are today squarely in the analog/acoustic world.
W orld-class Mozart interpreters will have a carefully worked-out sound world in mind for each piece, and a profound sense of the music’s underlying rhetoric—that is, the language of tension and release that unlocks Mozart’s phrases and allows them to unfold as statements of great eloquence and often subtle but deep emotion... The best argument for playing these works without a conductor is that the soloist and orchestra can communicate directly, without an intermediary.” — Jeremy Eichler, Boston Globe.
A ttended BSO’s opening last night, with Anne-Sophie Mutter performing (and conducting) Mozart violin concertos Nos. 3 and 5 with a ~20-instrument ensemble of BSO members. Admirable in all respects. Her pianissimos were fully audible, and the ensemble had sensitivity and control over its dynamics to let her sound come through.
I n part, the contrast and audibility are a result of the somewhat wider, European-style vibrato that Mutter chooses. Such ‘focus’ and projection of the voice and ‘self’—all that comes from the tiny violin box!
T hese Mozart concertos are wonderful, innocent things—ones that might merit less vibration in a smaller, more intimate venue. But the aesthetic rationale for vibrating more demonstratively in this way is clear, I think—the reason comes from the acoustic requirements of performing in a large hall like this, packed nearly to capacity with people as it was last night. In other words, authenticity in performance is not just faithfulness-to-the-text or appropriate in an historical performance practice sense. It presents a clean and stylistically coherent rendition, and one that takes into account not only the dialogue with the ensemble but also the dialogue with the audience under the conditions and constraints that prevail in the performance space. In this case, the wider-than-usual vibrato was in no way an affective, romanticized conceit, but instead was an accomodation to the realities of the large hall—an accomodation on behalf of us in the audience: Mutter communicating with us directly, as directly as she did with her ensemble colleagues.
M utter’s cadenzas were inspired—fresh as if they were improvised on the spot, and especially beautiful, magical. She makes you believe that the story she is telling is true, a personal fact, and you are the first one she is telling it to. Why we go to hear serious music, performed live.
A lready as a young student he [Schumann] had evolved a philosophy of history, a systematic framework for the evaluation of temporally discrete cultural phenomena. This historical outlook pervades Schumann’s writing at every turn... [a Schlegel-like, Heine-like] faith in a future informed by the spirit of progress....” — John Daverio, p. 118.
D avid Hyung-Su Kim’s performance of Schumann’s ‘Davidsbündlertanze’, Op. 6, in one of the ‘fringe’ events in the Boston Early Music Festival yesterday was idiomatically perfect—beautifully embodying the spirit and musical intentions of this Romantic classic. Stylistically, one can sense in his dramatic playing some of the influences of Robert Levin and other of David’s piano teachers. David is currently a DMA doctoral candidate at New England Conservatory of Music.
G ood interpretations of the Davidsbündlertänze reveal the essentials of Romantic Period aesthetics and philosophy: Insight derived from personal experience of fragments of life, Witz (humor/wit; provisional exploration; ad hoc reconsideration; fantasy/conjecture), and impulsive movement/arabesque. There is a Romantic ‘assuredness’ that the views you hold of what is true in the world are really true, absolutely true and immutable. Not ‘omniscient’, just ‘certain’, that’s all. Kim’s sensitive, emotionally expansive pianistic expressions achieve this very thing.
T he ‘Ungeduldig’ was as it should be: ‘impatient’, with the instrument’s hammer felts voiced not too hard, not too bright. The ‘Einfachs’ are just that: simple and earnest. We got a very cool, nocturne-like ‘Nicht schnell’, brooding, as though pondering the night sky. Kim’s ‘Zart und singend’ sang with great tenderness. ‘Mit gutem Humor’ did, in fact, amuse, and ‘Aus der Ferne’ was delivered with the right amount of detachment, remoteness… a sort of distance that evokes reminiscence with a touch of regret. David has a fabulous technique, plus fine insight into the composition and its inner motivations. Highlight of my day!
T he instrument itself, a 6.5-octave Viennese design made by R.J. Regier, was also a highlight—its rich, round tone perfect for this literature and for this intimate recital setting. (What is that little brass bell, though, over on the left side? I have not seen one of those before.)
N ote: This recital was performed in one of the small, carpeted first-floor rooms of the Goethe Institut in the Bay Bay area of Boston. The rectangular shape of the room and the tall ceiling height add to the acoustic challenges. In this instance, the fortepiano was positioned a few centimeters from one wall, in a stretch of the room where the wall has an irregular contour with a 25-centimeter-deep indentation/recess. Hardwood parquet flooring was the surface immediately below most of the instrument’s soundboard; only a little of the upper register was over carpet. The result was a surprisingly good sound, ample for the audience of about 100 people. If ever I were faced with a performance environment similar to the one at Goethe Institut, I would try to replicate that fortunate, highly-forgiving arrangement of the space!
U eno’s concert music, writing for a variety of ensembles from chamber groups to orchestra, has been informed in significant ways by his experiences as a performer... Cultural resonances abound in his music; for example, the biwa and shakahuachi concerto Kaze-no-Oka (‘Hill of the Winds’) has an architectural basis, being inspired by buildings designed by Fumihiko Maki... [Japanese] ideograms are used as musical formants, the details of which can be extrapolated and recontexualized to create an organic, but continually changing, whole. Subjecting an acoustical object or objects to scrutiny using computer-based tools of timbral analysis, Ueno extracts details of its musical makeup, such as its prevailing frequencies and how that profile might change over time... What are the limits of perception? ... In Kaze-no-Oka, in addition to the architectural origin, the conceptual-musical idea is of the orchestral body as a reflection and amplification of the biwa (orchestral strings as ‘super-biwa’) and shakuhachi (bass sax and contrabass clarinet as ‘super-shakuhachi’).” — Robert Kirzinger, liner notes, Ken Ueno - BMOP ‘Talus’ CD.
I was relieved to hear that composer Ken Ueno’s parents, grandma, and other family members in Japan are okay following the quake and tsunami.
T hinking of them and others affected by Friday’s magnitude 8.9 temblor and hundreds of aftershocks, I put Ken’s CD ‘Talus’ on to play. I look at its CD jewelcase. It still bears this orange warning label:
I think: how big is the dynamic range in decibels of the music in this recording, to which the safety warning label refers? The quietest room on Earth (the old Sound 80 studio in Minneapolis) has an ambient sound pressure level (SPL) of -9.4 dB. And the latent SPL of the top-of-the-line audio signal path (microphones, cables, connectors, pre-amps, amps, EQ, digital recording media, audio workstations/mixing consoles, audio CD media, playback amplifier and EQ, monitors/headphones, tympanic membranes and ossicles in the ears, cochlea, Organ of Corti, spiral ganglion, and acoustic nerve, cranial nerve VIII) is about 3.1 dB RMS, at 2 KHz and 20 years of age.
T he corresponding minimum perceptible ambient vibration in the Earth is about -0.7 Richter, according to Thouvenot and Bouchon (see link, below).
T he biggest recorded earthquake was the Great Chilean Earthquake of 22-MAY-1960, which had a magnitude of 9.5 Richter. So, 10 times [9.5 minus -0.7] equals a perceptible dynamic range of 102 dB for maximum earthshaking ever, and 96 dB for Friday’s Japanese earthquake.
A nd the approximate maximum of dynamic range for playing this BMOP CD of Ken’s is about 96 dB on standard digital audio at 16-bit resolution and 44.1 KHz sampling rate, given the limits of CDs and available amplifier chains and monitors/headphones.
K en’s ‘Talus’ CD jewelcase orange warning label alerts us to acoustic SPL differences in his compositions that are basically comparable to the SPL differences of what people experienced in Japan on Friday, just in different ranges of frequency spectrum. [...Heeding orange warning label, turns volume down.]
[30-sec clip, BMOP, Ken Ueno, ‘Kaze-no-Oka’, 1.1MB MP3]
K en’s music is like koans... not a progression from pain to realization, or pain and loss as a reminder of realization. It is the lean-ness of the mind focusing on the present, consciously exerting energy in the face of difficult odds and adversity. Yamada Roshi: “When you stand up, there is only that standing-up in the whole world, with nothing sticking to it.” Ueno’s music is, like, “This! Just this!” ... something of a ‘last word,’ a rhetoric of pure experience. His compositions’ expression is without judgment, sort of a Zen-like “letting the Shodo calligraphy brush write whatever it wants,” but that does not mean that it is ‘acquiescing’ or accepting of the reality, the suffering that Nature dishes out, nor is it free from worry.
O ur thoughts go out to those in Japan and their families.
I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set her free.” — Michelangelo, on imagination and the creative process.
T he new CD by oboist Keve Wilson and colleagues is really good: 14 tracks showcasing her atmospheric lyricism. This CD was just released by CCR/Naxos on 04-JAN-2011.
T he account of Astor Piazzolla’s ‘Fracanapa’ in fast additive 3+3+2 meter or polyrhythm (almost in 1) is driven; conspiratorial—with Wilson’s blazing double- and triple-tonguing; juicy come-what-may bravado, interleaved with suspenseful diminuendos that withdraw into a secret, interior space but soon emerge again, like a wild animal from its lair. The ‘Imagination’ of the disc’s title is no lie; it is a promise kept.
T he Jeff Marder arrangement of the Lady Gaga hit ‘Poker Face’ is an adventure in 3+3+2 tango minimalism—microtonal passages convincingly convey confrontational aloofness and nothing-to-lose abandon that cohere with the spirit of the Lady Gaga original.
C an you imagine—imagine what I would do if I could do all that I can?” — Sun Tzu.
J eff Marder’s phrasing is particularly thoughtful—an example of collaborative piano at its best. The playing of Greg Heffernan on cello, Mr. Lei on erhu, Charles Pierce on guitar, Mat Fields and Michael Valerio on fretless bass (on separate tracks), Bernard Fox’s whistling on track #7 ‘Moonbeams’, and Andy Beall on percussion are compelling as well.
I t’s tough to blend double-reeds with other instruments, and doing so requires a lot of knowledge and experience of the tonal properties and the articulative and dynamic constraints—knowledge on the part of the composer/arranger and the performer(s) alike. Close harmony doesn’t necessarily favor the blend, and, given the prolific overtones that oboe and English horn have, wider intervals in the lower register of these instruments are especially risky.
W ith those factors in mind, I must say the blend here is superb, and the miking and mixing are first-rate. Keve’s finesse is all-over phenomenal, but the hairy figures she is able to navigate with panache and control in the lower register are nothing short of astonishing.
Y ou have to imagine it possible before you can see something. You can have the evidence right in front of you, but if you can’t imagine something that has never existed before, it’s impossible.” — Rita Dove.
T he need for sufficient rests or phrasing allowing for breathing: more risks that composers/arrangers may create for double-reeds. For Keve, such challenges are taken in-stride. Circular ‘snorkel’ breathing is likely how Keve accomplishes some of the very-long-duration feats and expressive effects in here (although I am unable to detect any wavering of tone or other evidence of it). Brilliant!
T hrough the inspired, empathetic playing and Joe Castellon’s and Mike Aarvold’s fine engineering/mixing/mastering, you also hear on this disc the considerable merits of the studio environment at Kaufman Astoria Studios (KAS). Without any acoustic isolation, everyone plays like they can hear everyone else perfectly, because, in fact, they can hear everyone else perfectly. These days, there are not many recording venues that are conducive to this, especially for small ensembles on a budget. The environment at KAS is one that is especially congenial to performers. The sonic result is not only clean and consistent and technically precise, but one that also embodies the players’ true selves or authentic identities—‘who’ the performers were and ‘who’ they experienced, each of one another, during the recording session. This is not a self-conscious experience per se; any musician who has spent time in recording studios will attest to this. Instead, it’s like encountering each other on a delicious, clear, and invigorating day—out in the open, breathing the purest of air, imagining anything you want, anything that’s possible.
B ravo to all who contributed to the compositions, arrangements, performances, and engineering and production of this wonderful disc!
T he most obvious effect of getting used to hearing one’s own recordings... is to be come highly self-critical about details... Making a recording becomes a process of detailed self-examination. There are also more subtle forces at work. If you hear the sound of your own voice [or instrument], you are made aware that you cannot hear yourself as others hear you. You learn to hear what others hear... You start adjusting it to something which sounds more like what you thought you were doing.” — Robert Philip, Performing Music in the Age of Recording, p. 25.
F irst-rate recording can achieve] a more effective unity between intensity of action and displacement of sound than could be afforded by the best of all [live concert] seasons at Bayreuth.” — Glenn Gould.
K eve is a graduate of the Eastman School of Music and 1997 winner of the International Concert Artists Guild Competition. Keve studied oboe with Richard Killmer and dance with Elizabeth Clark in Rochester. She lives in NYC with her husband, trombonist Kerry Farrell. Keve is a co-founder of the chamber music series Project Accidental in Los Angeles and is solo oboist with Kristjan Järvi’s ‘Absolute Ensemble’. Apart from her concertizing and recording, Keve is deeply committed to educating the next generation and contributes to Pasadena Conservatory, Henry Mancini Institute, Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, Caramoor Center, and American Festival for the Arts in Houston and Argentina, as well as public school outreach programs in New York City and Los Angeles.
I doubt that the imagination can ever be suppressed. If you truly eradicated it in a child, (s)he would grow up to be an eggplant.” — Ursula LeGuin.
K eve’s up-coming performances include an appearance with Westchester Chamber Orchestra on 12-FEB and with Philharmonic Orchestra of the Americas at Alice Tully Hall on 24-MAR.
