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Category: reading table

Sunday, 10/28/12

Nearly forty years have passed since I first heard him; still I can’t get enough.

Vernard Johnson, “Amazing Grace,” live, Memphis, 1988

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lagniappe

reading table

Life tears us apart, but through those wounds, if we have tended them, love may enter us.

—Christian Wiman, “Mortify Our Wolves,” The American Scholar, Autumn, 2012

Saturday, 10/27/12

Happy 100th Birthday, Conlon!

Conlon Nancarrow, composer, October 27, 1912-August 10, 1997

Studies for Player Piano

No. 3b

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No. 37

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My essential concern, whether you can analyze it or not, is emotional; there’s an impact that I try to achieve by these means.

—Conlon Nancarrow

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Conlon’s music has such an outrageous, original character that it is literally shocking. It confronts you. Like Emerson said of Thoreau, ‘We have a new proposition.’

—John Cage

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This music is the greatest discovery since Webern and Ives . . . something great and important for all music history! His music is so utterly original, enjoyable, perfectly constructed but at the same time emotional . . . for me it’s the best of any composer living today.

—György Ligeti

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Conlon Nancarrow, an expatriate American composer whose frustrations with the limitations of live performance technique led him to compose almost exclusively for mechanical player pianos, and who was widely regarded as one of the few truly visionary composers of the century, died on Sunday at his home in Mexico City. He was 84.

Mr. Nancarrow, who was a jazz trumpeter before he turned his attention to formal composition, was fascinated throughout his life by the complex relationships that resulted when competing rhythms were set against each other. His best-known works, the more than 40 Studies for Player Piano, dazzle the ear with torrential figuration, thick counterpoint, colliding meters and melodies that draw on everything from blues and Spanish music to the spiky abstractions of free atonality.

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Mr. Nancarrow was born in Texarkana, Ark., on Oct. 27, 1912, and undertook his musical studies at the Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music from 1929 to 1932. He later studied privately in Boston with Nicolas Slonimsky, Walter Piston and Roger Sessions. In 1936, he went to Spain to fight against Franco with the Abraham Lincoln Brigade, and upon his return to the United States, in 1939, he became involved in the growing new music scene in New York, both as a composer and as a critic for the magazine Modern Music.

His stay in New York was brief, however. In 1940, when the United States Government refused to renew his passport because of his outspoken Socialist views, he moved to Mexico City. He became a Mexican citizen in 1956. Until 1981, when he attended a performance of his music in San Francisco, he had returned to the United States only once, in 1947, to obtain a machine for cutting his own piano rolls, the long paper strips that drive player pianos.

Mr. Nancarrow’s interest in mechanical pianos can be traced to the mid-1930’s, when he found pianists unable to play works like the Toccata for Violin and Piano and the Prelude and Blues (both composed in 1935) at the speeds or with the clarity that he demanded. Soon after his arrival in Mexico City, he bought two Ampico player pianos, which he modified by covering their hammers with leather and steel straps in order to make their attacks sharper.

He also began composing directly onto piano rolls, and for about four decades he composed exclusively this way. But with the renewed interest in his music that began in the 1970’s and picked up speed in the 1980’s, he became acquainted with virtuosic young players like Ms. [Ursula] Oppens and Mr. [Yvar] Mikhashoff, and pioneering new music ensembles like the Arditti Quartet, in England. Reconsidering his attitude toward live music-making, he began accepting commissions for piano, chamber and orchestral works, and produced a series of vivid scores that includes the rhythmically vital and texturally vivid ”Piece No. 2 for Small Orchestra,” the ”Three Canons for Ursula” and the String Quartet No. 3.

—Allan Kozinn, New York Times (obituary), 8/12/1997

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lagniappe

reading table

Dew on it,
the mountain trail will be cold—
before you head home
how about a last drink of sake?

—Ryokan (1758-1831, translated from Japanese by Burton Watson)

Friday, 10/26/12

two takes

His stuff gets under my skin.

How To Dress Well (Tom Krell), “Set It Right”

Live (with talk), 2012

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Recording (Total Loss), 2012

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lagniappe

reading table

This world—
call it an image
caught in a mirror—
real it is not,
nor unreal either.

—Minamoto no Sanetomo (1192-1219, translated from Japanese by Burton Watson)

Saturday, 10/20/12

passings

David S. Ware, saxophonist, composer, bandleader
November 7, 1949-October 18, 2012

“Mikuro’s Blues,” live, Europe, 200?*

*****

Live, Lithuania (Vilnius), 2007*

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lagniappe

reading table

“Variations On A Text By Vallejo”
By Donald Justice (1925-2004)

Me moriré en Paris con aguacero …

I will die in Miami in the sun,
On a day when the sun is very bright,
A day like the days I remember, a day like other days,
A day that nobody knows or remembers yet,
And the sun will be bright then on the dark glasses of strangers
And in the eyes of a few friends from my childhood
And of the surviving cousins by the graveside,
While the diggers, standing apart, in the still shade of the palms,
Rest on their shovels, and smoke,
Speaking in Spanish softly, out of respect.

I think it will be on a Sunday like today,
Except that the sun will be out, the rain will have stopped,
And the wind that today made all the little shrubs kneel down;
And I think it will be a Sunday because today,
When I took out this paper and began to write,
Never before had anything looked so blank,
My life, these words, the paper, the gray Sunday;
And my dog, quivering under a table because of the storm,
Looked up at me, not understanding,
And my son read on without speaking, and my wife slept.

Donald Justice is dead. One Sunday the sun came out,
It shone on the bay, it shone on the white buildings,
The cars moved down the street slowly as always, so many,
Some with their headlights on in spite of the sun,
And after awhile the diggers with their shovels
Walked back to the graveside through the sunlight,
And one of them put his blade into the earth
To lift a few clods of dirt, the black marl of Miami,
And scattered the dirt, and spat,
Turning away abruptly, out of respect.

*****

*With Matthew Shipp (piano), William Parker (bass), Guillermo Brown (drums).

Friday, 10/19/12

only rock ’n’ roll

The Ex & Brass Unbound,* live, Dublin, 2010

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lagniappe

last night

He read at the Art Institute of Chicago, where I sat rapt and happy.

Seamus Heaney, “Postscript,” Dublin, 2011

*****

*Mats Gustafsson (baritone saxophone), Ken Vandermark (tenor saxophone), Wolter Wierbos (trombone), Roy Paci (trumpet).

Friday, 10/12/12

Singers who come out of gospel bring something to everything they touch—conviction.

Bobby Womack, live (Later . . . with Jules Holland, BBC), 10/2 & 5/12

“Please Forgive My Heart” (B. Womack & R. Russell)

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“The Bravest Man in the Universe” (B. Womack & R. Russell)

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lagniappe

reading table

my home village
even behind the outhouse
pure water gushes

—Kobayashi Issa, 1812 (translated from Japanese by David G. Lanoue)

Sunday, 10/7/12

Some folks sing with their feet.

Duke Ellington Orchestra, Bunny Briggs (dance), Jon Hendricks (vocal), “David Danced Before the Lord with All His Might,” live, San Francisco (Grace Cathedral), 1965

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lagniappe

reading table

And David danced before the Lord with all his might . . .

—2 Samuel 6:14 (King James)

Friday, 9/28/12

two takes

How To Dress Well (Tom Krell), “Cold Nites”

Live in the Boiler Room, 2012

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Recording (Total Loss), 2012

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lagniappe

reading table

Autumn
the sky huge and clear
the marsh miles from farms and houses

overjoyed by the cranes
standing around the sandbars

the mountains above the clouds in the distance

this water
utterly still
in the dusk

the white moon overhead

I let my boat drift free tonight
I can’t go home.

—Wang Wei (701-61), “Floating on a Marsh” (trans. from Chinese by David Young [Five T’ang Poets, 1990])

Wednesday, 9/12/12

earthy (horns) + ethereal (vibes) = enthralling

Peter Brötzmann (saxophones, tarogato) and Jason Adasiewicz (vibraphone), live, New York (Le Poisson Rouge), 9/5/12

Part 1

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Part 2

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Part 3

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Tonight these guys will be at the Hideout, a little club on Chicago’s near northwest side, which is where I’ll be too.

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lagniappe

reading table

Four trees – upon a solitary Acre –
Without Design
Or Order, or Apparent Action –
Maintain –

The Sun – upon a Morning meets them –
The Wind –
No nearer Neighbor – have they –
But God –

The Acre gives them – Place –
They – Him – Attention of Passer by –
Of Shadow, or of Squirrel, haply –
Or Boy –

What Deed is Theirs unto the General Nature –
What Plan
They severally – retard – or further –
Unknown –

—Emily Dickinson

Tuesday, 9/11/12

Her stuff, I’ve found, can be habit-forming.

Grimes, live (studio performance), 2012

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lagniappe

reading table

washing my laundry
with my clothes on . . .
summer rain

—Kobayashi Issa, 1821 (translated from Japanese by David G. Lanoue)