Sunday, September 30, 2012

four

          One activity that I greatly enjoy is being able to listen to music that is new to me on a regular basis. Sometimes someone I know might recommend an artist or composer, or I might read something that inspires me to seek out their music. Many times the latter happens by reading about a musician and others that they collaborated or studied with.
          One of my favorite rock groups, The Mars Volta, is often a starting point for me, as I enjoy almost all of their music. I was reading a timeline and decided to do some research on one of their former drummers, Blake Fleming. I went to his bandcamp (a music hosting site that allows musicians to digitally sell their music) and listened to the first song on his album Time's Up, entitled "Intro/Mi casa su casa you kassa." The introduction was subtle and combined some ambient whirling noises with fleeting percussive noises. Fleming then segued into the song by fading in the main rhythmic motif, a syncopated pattern that interweaves cowbell and djembe (I think). As different overdubbed percussive elements were added, it became apparent that rhythm was Fleming's focus, which is often considered one of the most important aspects of drumming. As some elements were added, others were taken away. The resulting sound was one that was able to change rhythmic patterns from phrase to phrase without any sort of pause of noticeable transition; the use of many different percussive elements allowed the piece to sound like a well-organized drum circle. I particularly enjoyed the light distortion applied to the drumset part. Pitched percussion (introduced at approx. 2:48) was used to add to the palette of timbres without lending any tonality to the piece; it can even be argued that it causes preliminary tension (before the more rhythmically-tense double-time feel at 3:18) by introducing a long tone, which in this setting has the ability to temporarily shift focus from rhythm to pitch. The lack of tonality throughout the piece eliminates the percieved necessity of cadences, tonic, and harmonic motion, which allows the listener to hone in intently on the rhythms being played.
          I listened to the rest of the album and enjoyed everything from field recordings to distorted timpani, and am glad I found Time's Up. I have not heard much like it, and would recommend this to anyone looking to add a different beat to their daily rhythm.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

two

          Marcel Mule is known to many as the father of the French School of saxophone playing. When listening to this piece one might notice that his vibrato is vastly different from other classical saxophonists. It is very quick when compared to most American performers, especially those currently performing.
          To give some background on Mule, he grew up in France during the early 20th century, a time when there was very little literature for saxophone, solo or otherwise. There also had not been established standard pedagogical or performance methods for the instrument. He first learned from his father who performed in a French military band, where the practice of the day was to play with a straight tone (i.e. no vibrato). As one can imagine, this could limit the expression of a performance. Mule had some experience performing in jazz-style dance bands, where vibrato was the expectation for saxophonists. With this influence, Mule decided to venture toward the other side of the spectrum, producing an unmistakable sound that easily identifies him as one of the greatest (if not the greatest) saxophonists of all time. As more and more pieces were written for the instrument, and more musicians pushed the limits of what could be done on the saxophone, this particular sound began to lose favor to a more moderate vibrato, especially outside of France.
          I believe that for saxophone, vibrato is an important aspect of one's playing, and, within reason, should be an individual decision for each musician to make. I personally would almost never play with a Mule-style vibrato because it is not the way I choose to express myself on the instrument, but there are some pieces (especially those written specifically for him) to which I would listen to his recordings for inspiration. Listening to his 1958 performance of Jacques Ibert's Concertino da Camera at University of Utah, I did not particularly enjoy Mule's vibrato. At the same concert Mule also performed Paul Bonneau's Caprice en Forme de Valse (dedicated to Mule), a piece that I find amazing every time I listen to it. His vibrato lightens the difficult piece and lends it a lively and at times playful tone.

one

A few weeks ago I stumbled upon an interesting recording of Philip Glass's Violin Concerto No. 1. This version was arranged and performed by Australian saxophonist Amy Dickson on the soprano saxophone. Being quite familiar with the original work, I was interested to hear how she would nuance the strengths of the saxophone's unique sound as opposed to that of the violin. Upon listening I was glad that she did not attempt to imitate the sound, articulations, or vibrato of the violin, as some other performers of transcribed music are wont to do. While it may be appropriate in certain performances, I believe this piece is not one of those instances. Her interpretation of the piece is particularly fascinating to me as a saxophonist; according to the background information, she taught herself how to circular breathe in order to be able to perform this piece. I feel that Dickson interpreted this piece with careful consideration as to the composer's intent, as well as performing it with the style unique to saxophone literature, rather than violin.