CONCERT SPOTLIGHT: “The Way West” presented by the Universal Language Project

by Maggie Stapleton

“An event with music, words, and smoke inspired by the optimism and grandeur of the West.”

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Photo Credit: Kimberly Chin

Brian Chin has added something unique and fresh to the already forward-thinking music community in Seattle. The Universal Language Project is an innovative concert series rooted in the commissioning and performance of 21st century music and interdisciplinary collaboration. It turns the traditional classical music concert on its head by presenting the music in informal settings, premiering commissioned music by local composers, and collaborating with other art forms. AND! The experience doesn’t stop when the music ends; the audience is encouraged to mingle with the musicians and composers over a glass of wine afterwards to get a personal, inside scoop into the music.

Last season, ULP gave musical birth to works by Sean Osborn, Wayne Horvitz, and Jovino Santos Neto. (You can listen to them on our live concerts page!) Their new season kicks off this Friday, January 22 at Resonance Hall at SOMA Towers in Bellevue & Saturday, January 23 at Velocity Dance Center in Seattle and features musicians from Inverted Space, the contemporary music ensemble of the University of Washington. The program includes“Campfire Songs” by Brian Cobb (including a commissioned concert overture and a new piece to complete the cycle), “The Lone Ranger,” a theatrical work by Karen Thomas, and the commissioned premiere by young composer Tim Carey.

 

Second Inversion is proud to be a sponsor of this concert series. We’ll see you there on Saturday, January 23 at Velocity Dance Center!

 

 

Seattle New Music Concerts: January 2016

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Second Inversion and the Live Music Project have teamed up to create a monthly, curated concert program insert featuring a list of upcoming contemporary classical, cross-genre, and experimental performances in the Seattle area.

thvLYmNBWe’ve rallied Seattle-area musicians and presenters to include the sheet below (double-sided when printed) in their concert programs to raise awareness and support of other new music events. We hope this initiative will grow the audiences and create a more centralized network of support for contemporary classical music performed in the Northwest!

Keep an eye out for the inaugural insert in concert programs around Seattle this month. Big thanks to On the Boards, Seattle Pro Musica, The Esoterics, Inverted Space Ensemble, Racer Sessions, and many more for paying it forward last month in December to spread the word about these events taking place in January:

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Are you interested in being a part of this initiative?  Drop us a line!  Full info below with links:

Seattle Composers’ Salon
Informal presentations of finished works, previews, and works in progress by regional composers and performers in a casual setting that allows for experimentation and discussion.
January 8, 8pm, Chapel at the Good Shepherd Center | $5-$15

whateverandeveramen: Burns Night and Drinking Songs
An evening celebrating the poetry of Robert Burns. We will also raise a glass and raise our voices with the singing of traditional drinking songs. Tickets include a free beer.
January 13, 8pm, Naked City Brewery | $10

Inverted Space Ensemble: Earle Brown – A Retrospective
A concert featuring works by American composer Earle Brown, each from each decade of his career including graphic score commissions.
January 19, 7:30pm, Chapel at the Good Shepherd Center | $5-$15

Universal Language Project: The Way West
An event with music, words, and smoke inspired by the optimism and grandeur of the West. Works by Brian Cobb, Karen Thomas, & a commissioned premiere by Tim Carey with guest performers from Inverted Space Ensemble.
Januay 22, 8pm, Resonance at SOMA Towers (Bellevue) | $10-$25
January 23, 8pm, Velocity Dance Center | $10-25

Racer Sessions: CRY & Roar VI
The 6th anniversary festival of the Racer Sessions, a weekly (Sundays, 8-10pm) experimental and improvised music showcase featuring a different artist or group performing original work, followed by a jam session based on the concepts in their opening presentation.
8-10pm, Cafe Racer | FREE

Seattle Philharmonic Orchestra: Four Great Composer-Conductors
Music by Leonard Bernstein and the Northwest premiere of the Symphony No. 1 by Antal Doráti bookend this program of music by composers who were also influential conductors.
2pm, Benaroya Hall

UW Modern Music Ensemble
A performance featuring the “classics” of the modern era and hot-off-the-presses works from the best of today’s composers, including UW faculty and students.
7:30pm, Meany Studio Theatre | $10

Auburn Symphony: A World-Premiere Tribute to Auburn
Hear a world premiere, commissioned by the Seattle Commissioning Club, by Daniel Ott, along with Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No. 2 (Christina Siemens, piano).
1/30 at 7:30pm & 1/31 at 2:30pm
Auburn Performing Arts Center (Auburn) | $10-$35

Wayward Music Series
Each month, Nonsequitur and like-minded organizations and artists present 10 concerts of contemporary composition, free improvisation, electronic/electroacoustic music, and sound art. Visit waywardmusic.org for dates, times, and artist info.
7:30 or 8pm, Chapel at the Good Shepherd Center | $5-$15

Listen to the Girls: Q & A with Angelique Poteat

by Jill Kimball

Angelique Poteat

Composer Angelique Poteat. Photo: Hayley Young

We in the world of music are often thankful for this increasingly digital world. It allows us to access new music from all over the globe, to communicate with musicians and music appreciators who live thousands of miles away, and to find inspiration in countless eras, countries, and languages.

But for many young women, globalization has its drawbacks. It allows us to obsessively compare ourselves with other women, some of whom we know and others whom we’ve never met. It invites anonymous bullying in comment forums and objectification in the media. And for many teenagers, it turns the schooltime popularity contest into a 24/7 battle.

“We have this global access, so we can see what’s going on all over the world,” says Seattle-based composer Angelique Poteat. “When you hear about women in the media, you can see that people are constantly expecting more from women. You’re expected to do it all…family, work, et cetera.”

Poteat wanted to know how teen girls felt about society’s high standards for them, both online and in real life. She surveyed a handful of teens who sing in the Northwest Girlchoir, and the answers she got were so stunning that she set the words to music with the help of grants from the Seattle Office of Arts & Culture and 4Culture.

On Wednesday, November 18, members of the Northwest Girlchoir get to do something they’ve probably never done before: sing a piece set to words they wrote themselves. The Girlchoir premieres Poteat’s five-movement work, Listen to the Girls, alongside the Seattle Collaborative Orchestra at Seattle’s University Christian Church. You can buy tickets right here.

I asked Poteat a few questions about the project, and her answers are below.

 

Where did you get the inspiration for Listen to the Girls?

I noticed that all this stuff kept coming up in the media about young women and self esteem and unrealistic standards that girls are being held up to. Rather than take the media’s word for it, I wanted to get the girls’ opinions. I came up with a questionnaire and gave it to Seattle-area middle and high school girls. I asked things like, “Who are your role models? Do you have a fear of failure? Where does it come from? How does criticism influence the decisions you make? What are the pros and cons of using social media?” I used all of this information and came up with text for a piece of music. I scored it for large orchestra with a girlchoir, so I could have girls actually singing the words of girls.

Members of the Northwest Girlchoir.

Members of the Northwest Girlchoir.

What kinds of things did the girls say in the survey?

You’ll be able to hear it all in the piece. In the first movement, you’ll hear their responses to the question, “Who are you?” They answered, we’re redheads, nerds, geeks, we like contact sports, we’re adopted, we like film and anime. Stuff you’d hope young women would be interested in.

In the second movement, we find out who their role models are. You’ll see that it’s women who are strong, kind, smart and honest, who inspire and change, who fearlessly speak their mind and stand up for their beliefs.

The third and fourth movements are about doubt and social media. There’s an internal conflict here: the girls want to know what their friends are doing, they never want to miss out on anything. But they also feel like they have to stand up to the expectations of their friends, they have to change the way they look or behave to get approval.

In the last movement, they sing about the pressure to succeed in a competitive world where value is placed on perfection. But what is perfection? Are we supposed to be attractive or smart? Can’t we be both? It ends really triumphantly. The girls are determined to say they’re not a stereotype, they’re not objects, they’re working harder for people to accept them as they are.

What does it sound like?

I wanted to write something that was more relevant to the girls, so it’s got a bit of an energetic, perhaps lightly pop-ish feel to it. The first movement is really fiery, with fast stuff weaving in and out. There’s a moment with a grooving bass line. Second movement is kind of an off-kilter waltz. The third movement is mostly an orchestra movement, with long lines, rich harmonies, and changes in mood. The fourth movement is about social media, so it’s kind of mechanical, almost like you’re sitting at a computer and you’ve got this frantic energy. In the last movement about societal pressure, it’s very march-like and strict, and then there’s a very grand conclusion.

What will be different about this new generation of women?

Today we have global access, so we can see what’s going on all over the world. And because of that, we can see that women are so completely varied. These girls feel like it’s okay to be an individual, but they also see that people are expecting more from them than before. I think it’s really hard to deal with that pressure. We’ve all felt it.

Of all the classical music performed today, only 14 percent is composed by women. How does it feel to be in the minority?

I don’t know what it feels like to be a male composer, but it does feel curious to be a certain minority in my field. I always feel really weird when I get programmed for one of those concerts showcasing female composers, because you’ll never see a program called “Music of Male Composers.” Luckily, if you’re listening to the music and you don’t know who wrote it, it’s just music. I’ve never felt that being a woman is really holding me back.

What kind of music do you usually compose?

Music for large orchestra is my main focus right now. Earlier this year, the Seattle Symphony premiered a piece I wrote, and that was so exciting for me. I’ve always been influenced by jazz, rock and roll, and 20th century masters like Bartók and Messiaen. All those old dead guys used to write music inspired by whatever was popular in their day, and I think it’s wonderful that composers are trending toward that again.

What did you want to communicate by calling your piece Listen to the Girls?

There are so many places on the internet and in real life where people try to guess what girls and women are thinking. Instead of guessing, why don’t we just listen? Open up your ears, get rid of the biases and expectations, and just hear what these women have to say.

ALBUM REVIEW: Eighth Blackbird’s “Filament”

by Jill Kimball

Forget J. S. Bach: Philip Glass is the new granddaddy of music…or so sayeth eighth blackbird in its latest album, Filament.

This new release from the Chicago-based contemporary music supergroup cleverly connects the groundbreaking repetitive structures in Glass’s music with American folk tunes, contemporary compositions, and poppy vocals. The album’s name is meant to conjure a mental image of musical threads linking all its performances, new and old.

In this case, “old” is a relative term. The nexus of Filament is “Two Pages,” written by Philip Glass in 1968. It’s a classic illustration of Glass’s signature repetition, a mind-bending 16 minutes of subtly changing patterns. The piece famously sounds meditative and nightmarish at the same time. It’s notoriously difficult for performers–the liner notes compare it to walking a tightrope “with no net below”–but the expert musicians here meet the challenge admirably, almost making it sound easy. Performing this piece alongside the sextet are organist Nico Muhly and guitarist Bryce Dessner (of The National), and it’s no coincidence that both of them are also featured composers on Filament.

In fact, the album opens with Dessner’s multi-movement piece Murder Ballades, inspired by folk songs about real and imagined killings that were passed down through many generations. The murder ballad tradition began in Europe, but Dessner’s piece focuses on the maudlin stories that originally come from early settlers in New England and Appalachia. Dessner chose to arrange three real ballads, “Omie Wise,” “Young Emily,” and “Pretty Polly,” all of which tell stories of love affairs turned violent. Imagine if someone took the music from a Ken Burns documentary and gave it a little edge, and you’ll have an idea of what these movements sound like. The other four ballads in the piece are Dessner’s original compositions, still clearly inspired by early Americana but more deconstructed and intense. In these four movements, Philip Glass’s repetitive, meditative influence is clearly felt.

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Composers featured on Filament. Clockwise from top left: Nico Muhly, Philip Glass, Bryce Dessner, and Son Lux.

Nico Muhly’s piece, Doublespeak, is so closely linked with Two Pages that it’s as if Muhly managed to burrow directly into Philip Glass’s midcentury brain. Muhly wrote this piece for the composer’s 75th birthday celebration, so it’s fitting that he chose to salute a decade when “classical music perfected obsessive repetition,” as he puts it. You’ll hear snippets of 1970s staples like In C and Violin Phase flit in and out as the piece alternates between a fast-tempo frenzy and a slow, dreamy state.

As if there weren’t already enough threads connecting these three pieces, eighth blackbird rounds out Filament with a pair of works by Son Lux. The legendary pop-classical electronic composer took sound bites from the album and mixed in Glass-inspired vocals by Shara Worden, aka My Brightest Diamond. The result is a half-ambient, half-catchy five minutes that nicely break up the album’s studied repetition, which can be a little mentally taxing.

It goes without saying that the performance quality on this disc is top-notch, no less fine than any of eighth blackbird’s past albums. You’re luxuriously free to focus solely on the compositions themselves, all of which are worth contemplating at length. In an age when most albums’ connecting filaments are somewhere between ultrathin and nonexistent, it’s a pleasure to listen to a set of pieces with such close ties.

ALBUM OF THE WEEK: Anthracite Fields

by Jill Kimball

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When it comes to contemporary music, the biggest cause for celebration is its determination to find inspiration in unusual places. Increasingly, composers have tossed aside those old standbys–rich royals, first-world travel, God–and have instead embraced the unpredictable.

In the past, composer Julia Wolfe has found inspiration in a Vermeer painting, an Aretha Franklin song, and the idea of a slow-motion scream. Last year, she even released a musical hommage to the American folktale hero John Henry, a steel driver who died trying to compete with a machine.

But this time, Wolfe found her muse unexpectedly close to home.

For Wolfe, writing Anthracite Fields began with a rumination on her childhood home of Montgomeryville, Pennsylvania. The dirt-road town straddled polar opposite worlds: on one side of it lay the big city, Philadelphia; on the other lay an expanse of coal mining fields, where men and boys once toiled long hours in dangerous conditions for a pittance. She’d almost never ventured in the latter direction before. Curiously, she set off to explore the mines and soon found herself consumed by the history of the coal fields. By April 2014, she’d written an hour-long piece dedicated to the hundreds of thousands of people who literally powered upper- and middle-class American lives for more than a century.

It’s no mystery why Wolfe has already won a Pulitzer Prize for this work, which features performances by Bang on a Can All-Stars and the Choir of Trinity Wall Street. The sound is intense, evocative, and completely original. The carefully chosen words, taken from historical documents, interviews, and speeches, are heart-wrenching. Perhaps most importantly, the piece explores themes that are just as relevant to American lives today as they were 150 years ago: class inequality, unfair working conditions, and the social cost of using coal to generate electricity.

“The politics are very fascinating—the issues about safety, and the consideration for the people who are working and what’s involved in it,” Wolfe said in a recent NPR interview. “But I didn’t want to say, ‘Listen to this. This is a big political issue.’ It really was, ‘Here’s what happened. Here’s this life, and who are we in relationship to that?’ We’re them. They’re us. And basically, these people, working underground, under very dangerous conditions, fueled the nation. That’s very important to understand.”

The five-movement piece begins below ground, in the midst of a typical coal miner’s long, dark, and dangerous workday. An uneasy collection of sustained notes is interrupted by a loud, jarring noise every minute or so. The choir names off a series of men named John, found on a list of more than 50,000 Pennsylvania mining casualties between 1869 and 1916. In a genius compositional move, Wolfe chose to pair this heartbreakingly endless list of names with sung text, at turns mournful and fiery, explaining how coal is formed.

Sadly, children in Pennsylvania’s anthracite region started working in the mines as early as age 6 to help put food on the family table. The second movement of Anthracite Fields remembers those working children, called breaker boys. The children sat bent over on planks all day, cutting their fingers up to pick debris out of freshly mined coal. The text Wolfe set in this movement comes from a perversely catchy regional folk song (“Mickey Pick-Slate, early and late, that was the poor little breaker boy’s fate”) and from a heart-rending interview with a one-time breaker boy (“You didn’t dare say anything, you didn’t dare quit, you didn’t wear gloves”). I admit it: this movement made me cry.

In the second half of the piece, Wolfe moves above ground to examine the social implications of underground coal mining. Her third movement, “Speech,” mixes sparse choral writing with rock opera-style solo vocals, using text from a union president’s speech advocating for fair working conditions and compensation.

The last two movements come from two very different non-miners’ perspectives. Wolfe says “Flowers” was inspired by an interview with Barbara Powell, the daughter of a miner who says she never felt poor, thanks to her town’s generous community and the cheerful little things in life, like growing her beautiful garden. The last movement, “Appliances,” is an uncomfortable reminder that coal miners put their lives on the line for next to no pay so that the upper classes could live in comfort, whether they were traveling by train or heating their homes. At the very end, the singers whistle, conjuring the sound of a train grinding against the rails.

Composer Julia Wolfe.

Composer Julia Wolfe.

Anthracite Fields is not an easy listen, but I don’t think Julia Wolfe wanted it to be. We Americans tend to gloss over unpleasant parts of our history when, in order to make peace with our past, we’d do better to confront it. In telling these miners’ stories through vivid music, Wolfe has brought an important but often ignored chapter of our country’s story to the forefront. I encourage people of all backgrounds to listen to this award-winning work, daunting though it may seem. You’ll learn a little about life in late-1800s Pennsylvania, you’ll contemplate energy usage and workers’ rights, and if you’re like me, you’ll have a good cry.