Thursday, May 13, 2010

The New Old Friend

My composer friend has become my new gay husband.

Like many relationships, ours has been strengthened by proximity and copious free time.

We met in college. He lived across the hall from me. Now he lives 30 blocks away, which I consider walking distance. Recently his work schedule has contracted -- he is a professor and one of his classes was cut due to budget considerations. More importantly, his boyfriend has chased work to Illinois.

We realized that we now meet about once or twice a week. We do mundane things together. The types of things we did in college, such as watch Bollywood movies on television and make dinner together. These are inexpensive ways to meet, but they are also luxuries at our age when time tends to become more precious.

Although we have known one another for nearly two decades, we have discovered new things about each other. I've learned that he has become a very good cook. He also has pursued an interest in regency-era British female authors. This is a literary interest that I share, and it has been a delight to discuss literature and the manners and history of that era with him.

Our deepening friendship has been an unexpected pleasure during this fallow time.

Monday, May 10, 2010

The Passive Listener

I've been exposed to a lot of new music in the past couple of weeks. My composer friend has kindly taken me to performances of new operas and symphonies.

Tonight we listened to Ensemble ACJW orchestra at Carnegie Hall. It was interesting because John Adams conducted, and the orchestra began by playing a piece he composed: Son of Chamber Symphony.

Basically all I know about classical music I've learned through conversations with my friend and his comrades. He hinted that work in the program was not to everyone's liking, but I enjoyed it. In fact, I thought the John Adams piece was rather mainstream. It resembled a Broadway or film score.

Another interesting composition in the program was Louis Andriessen's De Staat. It is based on Plato's Republic, and includes a performer who sings (in Greek) passages of the text about the danger of musical innovation. I particularly enjoyed the line that in translation means "Any alteration in the modes of music is always followed by alteration in the most fundamental laws of the state." If this sentiment were more widely shared, I imagine anti-incumbent politicians would be enthusiastic supporters of new music.

Prior to the performance there was a disclaimer from the conductor about its volume and dissonance. It seemed odd that those familiar with the music appeared compelled to warn listeners about what they would experience. Although some of the piece was loud and not harmonious, it wasn't unpleasant.

I particularly enjoyed the vocalist. Her voice seemed like an oasis within in a storm. Perhaps the dissonance created a contrast that helped me concentrate on her sweet voice and the sounds accompanying it. The music seemed to mimic the experience of focusing in a chaotic place.

By coincidence my friend and I were seated by one of his colleagues. I met her last week at the Vox Contemporary American Opera Lab where one of her pieces was performed. We marveled that we sat through the first half of the concert without realizing that we were seated side by side.

There were several interesting pieces at the Vox event.

Du Yun's opera Zolle was about a ghost that seeks peace. The opera includes unusual elements, such as singing through walkie talkies. The piece was inspired by black and white abstract landscape photographs by Frank Dituri, which were projected. This background information and the image helped me appreciate the piece. I would have had difficulty reconciling the music and subject matter without the visual cue and story seed.

David Little's Dog Daze is based on a short film about a family trying to survive the ravages of a war in the US. It is both disturbing, funny, and profound. The family are starving. The daughter, who sings about admiring her body now that it is model thin, befriends a man who dresses and acts like a dog. Eventually the men in her family kill the man for food. Although initially disturbed that the man imitated an animal, they later assert his status as an animal as justification for killing him. Little describes his musical influences as a mix of Metallica and Rogers & Hammerstein.

Scott Davenport Richard's A Star Across the Ocean sounded like Broadway. It tells the story of an interracial family that travels to Paris during the 1960s. It was a difficult time for interracial families. Richard uses characters based on Josephine Baker, Paul Robeson and others to explore the hope and disappointment African-Americans expatriates experienced as they tried to escape American racism.

My favorite piece was Missy Mazzoli's Song from the Uproar. It is based on the fascinating story of Isabelle Eberhardt (b. 1877 Switzerland). Her close family perished by the time she was 22. Unencumbered by dissenting relatives, she traveled North Africa dressed as a man, converted to Sufism, and embarked on a writing career. She drowned in a flash flood at age 27.

The performance was accompanied by a film that perfectly complimented the music. It included archival movie footage that appears to date from the 1920s to the 1940s. It includes scenes of a family. Slowly the family members are erased and the young girl remains. Later portions show rolling clouds and slowly blooming flowers. It ends with churning water and a woman in bathing suit and cap slowly diving from a high platform. The film is turned upside down so she appears to fly up toward the water like a superhero. The performer subtly mimicked the dive at the end of the film as it was projected.

There was another opera, With Blood, With Ink, that featured music that I found less interesting. However, the story on which it was based is intriguing. Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz (1648-1695) was a brilliant woman who entered a Mexican convent to pursue her intellectual and artistic interests. She was a philosopher, poet, writer, and feminist. During the Spanish Inquisition, she was forced to renounce her work and died shortly after doing so.

Although music is not my artistic medium, I enjoy its many forms and deeply appreciate the opportunity to sample new works. More importantly, I am grateful for the exposure to new ideas.

Lately I've been marveling that greater access to information appears to be narrowing my influences. As most of what I select to do reflects my taste (iTunes, Pandora, Netflix) and the number of fixed, curated outlets diminish (such as radio or broadcast television) so do encounters with new art via serendipity. This was a wonderful opportunity to buck that trend!