ARTS

Student composers just above average

Pieces performed on percussion, bass clarinets and piccolos

by Mike Barthel

A quick glance over the program for Wednesday night's student composers' concert might inspire anxiety in the casual listener: a percussion trio, a bass clarinet duo, and for a finale, a piccolo trio (which is used as a form of torture in some countries). However, the experience proved to be largely rewarding, as the performances exhibited a wide range of talent and styles - some less effective than others - but by and large enjoyable.

The first piece, the aforementioned percussion trio ("Razor Cuts" by double-degree junior Manu Vimalassery), consisted of a bass drum, high hat, and snare. This is an interesting choice given that these are the three pieces a set drummer usually first learns to play in tandem; the composer had three different players performing the parts.

It was one of those pieces that you could play pretty much any way you wanted to and the audience wouldn't notice, but to play it exactly the way the composer wanted took a lot of concentration. The piece was something of a rhythm exercise - the beats were often neither on nor off, existing somewhere between both extremes. However, it went on for about fifteen minutes; about ten too long.

"ReBirth," by junior David Gerard Matthews, was a very enjoyable piece. Consisting of two bass clarinets, it completely forsook the high register for a rumbling, jazzy tone that interwove the parts seamlessly. The piece started with a basic but very tuneful eighth-notes riff; the second clarinet then overlays this with syncopated dotted quarters in minor harmony.

It was particularly interesting because while the basic style of each part changed little, both the notes and the rhythms evolved gracefully over time; there were no discernable sections to the piece; rather each part changed behind the other. It allowed the listener to abandon searching for a tune and simply revel in the individual notes and rhythms.

"Still Lives with Whiskey Bottle" might have been more enjoyable if the text had not been supplied. As read, it was a clichˇd and banal piece, rehashing worn-out literary ideas. But once the performance started, it was genuinely enjoyed, perhaps because one didn't have to focus on the words. Although, it was odd to hear "Detroit" being sung; the words, however banal, would have been better spoken.

But the composer and singer, first-year Corey Dargel, obviously put a lot of work into the music. The accompaniment was provided by a carefully programmed MIDI synth, and it was often enjoyable, original, and evocative; the second section in particular was almost reminiscent of the "I'm going to kill him" section of most operas, and the third was a bittersweet pizzicato- and bell-laden arrangement. The melody was creative and, in places, beautiful; only an attempt to be literary faulted this piece.

To sum up sophomore Yvan Greenberg's "Silkworm" in one word is fairly simple: minimalist. The main sound was provided by a violin played at a pianississississimo level; often the bow was drawn over the bridge or barely on the string, often flying off. Notes were hard to discern; the listener strains to detect a key or rhythm, for there was none. A flutist, his back to the audience, occasionally chimed in with slightly louder but similarly random notes. Near the end a guitar, located somewhere off to the right in the audience, was added with slow downward glissandos. In places this piece achieved the ephermal bliss it sought, but more often than not it just sounded like people warming up.

Finally came the piccolo trio, "SI WAY." sophomore Ruo Huang, the composer, emerged and hurdled over a row of seats to get in conducting position; indeed, at first it was more he performing than the three musicians. Poising his arms in the air, he threw a hand towards one side, and a note flew out; as he continued to cut off and indicate entrances, strange flutters and trills blended with straight tones and more melodic lines smoothly in a style reminiscent of both Chinese opera and dissonant birds.

The piece was neither wholly beautiful nor ugly, yet it was wonderfully both at different times. Slight variations in melody were played over tempo-less rhythms and rapid modal shifts, and often the combination produced a serene and pretty tone. Other times, however, what sounded like stacked minor seconds produced a strange, wondrous stereo "beat" that alternated ears. This was a piece rich in both ideas and emotion; its tonality made you smile and the dissonance hit you in the chest.

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Copyright © 1997, The Oberlin Review.
Volume 126, Number 5, October 3, 1997

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