Another exquisite set of “hyperealist music” by the American one-of-a-kind composer, Noah Creshevsky. As is well known he works with samples of recorded music to build his extremely detailed and intricate compositions, in the process generating works of breath-taking complexity. Most listeners declare them as “impossible”, because they can’t credit what they’re hearing. Many of the actual sounds he uses are in fact recognisable, because they’re derived from musical instruments we’re already familiar with; it’s his configurations, the speed, the edits, the intensity, the juxtapositions, that’s what creates the exhilarating (some find it shocking) effects of his music. On this new album The Four Seasons (TZADIK TZ 8097), he’s taking a look back at his own canon of work from 1992 to the present, to present a retrospective or historic exhibition of sorts. Beyond that I can’t tell you much; I don’t think he’s sampled his own back catalogue in an endless regurgitation. A large number of talented musicians and singers are credited on the inside cover, and it’s from their work the finely-stitched musical fabric has been derived. Perhaps he has preserved their original source material from previous projects, and is now using it as the basis for the present recording. What comes across most strongly to this listener is that The Four Seasons represents an updated and warped form of classical chamber music; brass, woodwinds, percussion and strings are rearranged into amazing new forms, yet still preserve the intimacy and warmth of a Mozart string quartet or Schubert’s Trout. Likewise the singers, while never completing a recognisable word as their work is parsed into micro-syllables and abstracted phonemes, start to resemble a slightly absurd and cartoonish version of a Purcell opera. I have no doubt that Creshevsky is not intending to mock classical music (or any genres of music); he’s presenting an alternative, futuristic and intensified musical experience which is intensely satisfying to the listener, if we can clear enough space in our minds to make way for it. This release is not as breathless or full-on as some I’ve heard from Creshevsky, and with its similarities to classical form and surface, may be the ideal place for a new listener to start. From 25 July 2013.
Another work which uses the four seasons structure is Chris Watson’s In St Cuthbert’s Time (TOUCH TO:89). The idea of it is simple – field recordings made in Lindisfarne, of the weather conditions and wildlife and the seashore, limited to what St Cuthbert himself, or any other seventh century saint, would actually have heard on Lindisfarne at the time, hence the subtitle “A 7th Century Soundscape of Lindisfarne”. As it happens, I visited the Lindisfarne Gospels exhibition last summer (2013) when it was at Durham, and an installation version of Watson’s work was conincident with the exhibit. I made my way to a small side chapel in the Cathedral and was half expecting an extremely “immersive” event with a large PA and surround-sound effects. Instead, the field recordings were playing back over a pair of modestly-sized white speakers, no bigger than what you may have for your PC. This was the artist’s intent; he expressly wanted to keep playback at a low volume, I think to create a suitably unobtrusive ambience, sounds you had to strain to hear, and to suggest a non-specific spiritual dimension through the act of concentration. The booklet is packed with mini-essays about the history of Lindisfarne, the structure of the Anglo-Saxon calender, the creation of the Lindisfarne gospels, and the life of St Cuthbert. The sound art itself is structured around the four seasons, and the field recordings document the avian wildlife one would tend to hear in that area around Winter, Lencten, Sumor and Haerfest. Birds, water, air – it’s all extremely pleasant to listen to, and the recordings are vivid and clear, but unlike with previous Watson compositions, I’m not hearing that much depth of meaning. Most conspicuously absent for me is the strong – almost mystical – sense of location that is usually one of his signature themes; his best field recordings have been undeniably rooted in the geographic location whence they came, a point firmly emphasised by the citation of grid references. However, in this instance, that would be to ignore all the components of the package which do strongly connect the work to Lindisfarne: sound, texts, images, photographs, and the selection and arrangement of the field recorings themselves. While not quite the time-travel experience one might hope for from the title, this is an accomplished piece of work. From July 2013.
Thank you for listening to “The Four Seasons” and for taking the time to write about. I appreciate your combining musical expertise with an open mind and generosity of spirit.