MusicWatch Annual: My name is Janus


Detail from sculpture by Johann Christian Wilhelm Beyer in the Great Parterre, Schönbrunn, Vienna. Photo by lienyuan lee.

In one of the first Oregon ArtsWatch stories of the year, last January’s MusicWatch Monthly, Charles Rose spoke for all of us: “Can we please get some certainty back into our lives?” In the same column, Charles looked ahead to Portland Music Month, a smorgasbord of musical performances in various venues all across the city. PMM is back in 2023 (see their calendar and so on right here), and that sets the tone for what we’d like to think about today, here at the end of another bizarre year.


2022: THE CULTURAL YEAR IN REVIEW


Let’s consider the nature of “certainty”–is such a thing possible? It sometimes seems the only true certainty is uncertainty, but there’s a dynamic and realistic way of making certainty, well, at least a little more certain. We’re talking about determination, and the robustness of collaboration, the connectivity of community, the power of leadership and organization, and above all, the light of hope.

As we listen backward to 2022 and forward to 2023, we notice several trends and traditions that we might hope to hear repeated in the year to come. Let us trace them, one thread at a time, through the year’s reporting here at Oregon ArtsWatch.

Meet the next year, same as the last year

Another important festival returning once again: the beloved PDX Jazz Fest, about to enter its twentieth year. (You can get ready for PDX Jazz 2023 right here). Early this year, Angela Allen reported extensively on the history of jazz in Portland, and you can read her three-part preview and one-part review here:

Chris Brown at The 1905. Photo by Karney Hatch.

The William Byrd Festival is another landmark that returned this year (read Daryl Browne’s coverage of that right here), although it remains to be seen whether the long-running festival of Renaissance music concerts and lectures will be returning next year. Stay tuned, folks: when it’s announced, you’ll hear it on Oregon ArtsWatch. Daryl might even craft another of her crossword puzzles to celebrate. (Test your wits with July’s Byrd-themed PuzzleWatch, right here.)

Portland Opera continues to demonstrate a laudable commitment not only to contemporary music but also to contemporary themes. This is nothing new for them–the present author remembers well their productions of As One and The Difficulty of Crossing a Field and The Little Matchstick Girl, and just this year they commissioned two new operas. Dmae Lo Roberts interviewed the creators of Beatrice on her Stage & Studio podcast in September.

The other commissioned opera creator? Damien Geter, with with librettist Lorene Cary. In PO’s press release, Geter describes Jubilee, which will center on the story of the Fisk Jubilee Singers:

The Fisk Jubilee Singers are one of the most important threads that bind together the fabric of American music and culture. Their performances brought the spiritual—which serves as the foundation for much of America’s popular music even today—into the concert hall. Yet their story and artistry are still unknown to many Americans. So, Lorene and I choose to share it in the same manner they expressed themselves: through song, and with the grandeur they deserve: through opera.

More on Geter later. This year, Portland Opera produced the U.S. premiere of the queer-themed Canadian opera The Sun Comes Out, eight whole years after its original premiere up north. You can read Angela’s review of that right here. Another of PO’s productions, The Central Park Five, merited three stories in ArtsWatch:

In the current season, PO keeps that up. They produced Carmen earlier this year–they’re obliged to keep the war horses alive, and bless ’em for it. Later in the season–next March–they’re staging Kamala Sankaram and Susan Yankowitz’s Thumbprint, on the troubling-yet-inspiring subject of Pakistani human rights activist Mukhtar Mai.

In May, Portland Opera hosts and collaborates with Terence Blanchard, best known to some as Spike Lee’s longtime collaborator and to others as the composer of Fire Shut Up In My Bones–the first opera by a Black composer premiered at The Almighty Met (this was, by the way, last year). Some other big names on this program: PO artistic advisers Geter (conducting) and Karen Slack (singing), plus baritone Will Liverman (read about his recent adventures in Portland in Alice Hardesty’s review).

Earlier this year, James Bash talked to PO’s Priti Gandhi and Sue Dixon about all of this, and you can read that right here.

Aubrey Allicock as Yusef Salaam, Bernard Holcomb as Kevin Richardson, Nathan Granner as Kharey/Korey Wise, Donovan Singletary as Antron McCray, and Victor Ryan Robertson as Raymond Santana in Portland Opera’s production of “The Central Park Five.” Photo by Christine Dong/Portland Opera.

Where the music comes from

It’s often said, bitterly and in jest, that in classical music, “world premiere” means “last performance.” Not so for My Words Are My Sword, a collaboration between Oregon composer Jasnam Daya Singh and Memphis-based actor Darius Wallace. This past spring, Angela covered the work’s premiere from two angles: a pre-show preview and a post-show review. In the former, she described it like this:

Music drama? Collage? Spoken-word piece? One-man show? Multi-media chamber collaboration?

My Words Are My Sword is all of those.

In the year ahead, you’ll have another chance to experience Wallace and Singh’s multi-genre whatsit at The Reser–the latest addition to Oregon’s large-scale venue landscape (ArtsWatch Maestro Bob Hicks reported on that in March). The original players (Singh, Wallace, Portland Chamber Orchestra under the baton of Yaacov Bergman) will perform My Words Are My Sword on January 14.

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Phil Darius Wallace performing ‘My Words Are My Sword’ in 2022. Photo by Joe Cantrell.

Note that this “repeat performance” involves the creators as performers–a successful method employed by composers as diverse as Joan Tower, Philip Glass, and J.S. Bach. Oregon’s most recent adopted composer, Andy Akiho, is another of these.

We simply adore Akiho, don’t we, dear reader? He’s been a favorite here since his first appearances with Chamber Music Northwest damn near a decade ago. This summer, Brett and Charles profiled Akiho’s latest composition–the Grammy-nominated Seven Pillars–when it rolled into Portland as part of CMNW 2022.

Akiho has multiple upcoming appearances on the Oregon music calendar for 2023. One of the first concerts of the year happens in Milwaukie (home of Dark Horse Comics) on January 15: Akiho will perform (and, presumably, spin records) as part of Third Angle New Music’s new Decibel Series. The series is another in a long line of creative programming from 3A, who have been known to haunt wine bars and jazz clubs and rooftops and rail museums. Also in the series: Portland Percussion Group co-founder Christopher Whyte in February and multi-instrumentalist extraordinaire Machado Mijiga in March.

In April, Akiho dons his Oregon Symphony Creative Alliance hat for the season’s last Open Music concert–this in preparation for the symphony’s performance the following weekend of his concerto for steel pan and orchestra, Beneath Lighted Coffers.

Sandbox Percussion performed Andy Akiho’s “Seven Pillars” at Alberta Rose Theatre for CMNW 2022. Photo by Tom Emerson.

David Schiff is another longtime favorite here, and he was performed pretty frequently around Oregon in 2022. This April, the nearly-homonymous David Shifrin played Schiff’s Homage to Benny at The Old Church (read about that here). In May, Angela previewed two Schiff premieres coming in the summer, Prefontaine and Vineyard Rhythms. In typically excessive ArtsWatch fashion, Brett also wrote a preview of Prefontaine, and then Angela reviewed the performance itself. Later, Angela and Charles reviewed two different performances of Vineyard Rhythms at CMNW (read those here and here).

We ran three separate stories on cellist-composer Nancy Ives in 2022, plus a fourth on the art exhibition that ran at The Reser concurrently with Celilo Falls: We Were There, a collaboration among Ives, storyteller Ed Edmo, and photographer Joe Cantrell. In January, Bennet Campbell Ferguson spoke extensively with Ives about her journey as a composer. In June, we performed another pincer movement: Brett on the preview, Angela on the review.

In May, we’d done the same thing to Damien Geter (told you we’d get back to him). Brett spoke to the composer and to Resonance Ensemble director Katherine FitzGibbon ahead of the long-awaited, long-delayed premiere of Geter’s An African American Requiem–read that preview here. This time James did the post-concert reporting, with a lovely array of rehearsal and performance photos by audience members and by Rachel Hadiashar. Check that out here.

James covered another living composer twice this year. When Caroline Shaw visited Salem’s Willamette University for a residency and performance with Katherine Skovira in February, James was there. When Shaw came back and performed with dancer Anya Saugstad at the Bodecker Skate Bowl in Northwest Portland (part of 3A’s season), James was there for that, too. The intrepid Mr. Bash even spoke with the Pulitzer-winner, who confessed a temptation to relocate Pacific Northwestwards:

Postscript: During my phone conversation with Shaw, I mentioned that a number of composers have decided to make Portland their home, and would she consider moving here.

“Oh yeah!” she replied with a laugh. “I talk about it a lot. I even look in Zillow pretty often. I’m dating someone here. It’s a beautiful place. I really like the moss here. Great moss!”

Choirs tend to be better about new music than instrumental groups (cheaper instruments, presumably), and you can read about that every month in Daryl Browne’s choral column. One episode stands out, an April column spotlighting concerts by In Mulieribus, Choral Arts Ensemble, and Oregon Repertory Singers, all performing (and in some cases premiering) works by living composers. Read that here.

Have you noticed a theme here? We like composers, and we like paying attention to them year after year after year. One of our biggest regrets of 2022: missing out on Shaw’s November performance at The Reser with Sō Percussion. But in this case we were able to buy the record (on vinyl no less) from Bandcamp.

One last Oregon composer to talk about, and he’s a giant. This year, we said farewell to Tomáš Svoboda. Nobody in Brett’s very fine sendoff mentioned my favorite Svoboda anecdote. When I was studying at Portland State University, where the composer taught for three decades, I quickly discovered that Svoboda was a Legend. Everyone who’d been there long enough had hilarious and inspirational stories about him. And a surprising number of those stories were about how he’d be in the middle of teaching a class (say, counterpoint) and sit down to work on his latest composition (say, a piano concerto) while the students did their own exercises. It always reminded me of Napoleon playing chess while discussing war strategy.

My only personal encounter with the man was more an encounter with his music and its devotees, when his String Quartet No. 12, Op. 202 (Post Scriptum) closed a Fear No Music concert in 2017. Here’s what I wrote at the time:

The third and final movement sounded to me like spirits soaring out of conflict and despair to ever higher peaks of vital ecstasy. In the composer’s words, this quartet expresses “a hidden appreciation that I am still alive even as I have experienced so much pain and sadness about perished souls.” Perhaps this is why I can’t help think of Beethoven and Bartók, composers who knew more than a little about overcoming personal adversity through the cathartic power of difficult, triumphant, beautiful music.

Svoboda was in attendance, as he often is when FNM performs his music. After the angel wings of the quartet’s finale, Ives popped up and strutted out into the audience to give Svoboda a big hug—then dashed back up the stage, took up her cello, and tapped the score with her bow. “We have to do it again! Just the end!” Away they went—Ives, violinists Voglar Belgique and Paloma Griffin Hébert, and violist Joël Belgique—this time a bit more restrained and pensive, but no less transcendent. Regular readers will not be surprised that, as usual, this writer burst into tears.

Tomáš Svoboda.

Follow the leaders

Composers may be “where the music comes from,” but as with all things, “it takes a village.” Audiences to hear the music, performers to perform it, venues to host, recording engineers to immortalize. And there must be leaders to make it all happen–captains to steer the ship. One must imagine Blackbeard happy, to paraphrase Camus.

There were a few significant shifts in leadership this year. The biggest was Portland Baroque’s artistic director showdown, and we’re quite proud of James for calling it. In his review of the three concerts hosted by PBO’s three prospective candidates, Ref Bash had this to say:

Each candidate showed their best in these concerts. Each landed more than one punch. But I think that Perkins’ superb keyboard artistry and deft conducting made for an exceptional one-two combination (leading with a jab and following with a right hook) that gave him a TKO in this festival of candidates.

Does PBO have one of those huge belt buckles for the winner?

No photographic evidence has yet emerged of any huge belt buckles, but a week later PBO concurred and announced Perkins’ confirmation (as reported by ArtsWatch Captain Hicks here). I must confess slight disappointment, though Perkins is clearly a wise choice. After reading about another of the candidates, Aislinn Nosky, in James’ review of her February concert with PBO–well, I figured the flamboyant violinist-conductor was a natural fit for a Portland organization. Nosky has a contrarian kind of rock star vibe that seemed perfect for a town that supposedly strives for weirdness.

Another big leadership shift: former Portland Opera director Christopher Mattaliano coming back to Oregon and starting up a different opera company. (In the blues this practice is known as “cutting heads.”)

James spoke to Mattaliano about OrpheusPDX–its inception and plans for the future–and you can read that here. The short season’s two productions then spawned five different ArtsWatch stories: two previews by James, both interviews with singers (Hannah Penn and Holly Flack); reviews of Orpheus and Fall of the House of Usher, both by Angela Allen; and Brett Campbell’s preview of Usher.

Phew!

OrpheusPDX’s 2022 production of “Fall of the House of Usher.” Photo by Owen Carey.

Another change in operatic leadership: this school year, Kelley Nassief took over as Portland State University’s Director of Opera and Opera Studios, filling the role vacated by retiring Director Christine Meadows. The ever-busy Bash interviewed her as well. In the choral/cathedral realm, organist and choral director Bruce Neswick retired and was replaced by protégé Katherine Webb. Read about all of that in Daryl Browne’s profile here. And in the orchestral realm, you can read about David Danzmayr’s first 573 days with the Oregon Symphony right here.

Where there’s a will

One thing we love about Oregon: that frontiersy will to thrive that characterizes all our endeavors. Usually, this takes the form not of an egotistical Pioneer Man vibe but a collaborative spirit more in tune with Oregon’s anarchist traditions (Eugene’s Green Anarchy magazine, the illustrious Le Guin, North Portland in general). And of course we don’t mean the “setting things on fire” brand of anarchism–we’re talking about the mutual aid variety referenced in Matthew 25:31-46 and further developed by Peter Kropotkin.

That brings us to the Maybelle Community Singers, who are probably closer to Matthew 25 than to Kropotkin. You can read about their past, present, and future in Daryl’s profile here. On the more radical side: Renegade Opera, yet another Portland-based opera company. In Max Tapogna’s 2021 profile, co-founder Madeline Ross had this to say:

I have always been interested in creating things, and reinvigorating something that is old. The mission with Renegade is to create opera that serves the community. How can we think about our world in a different way? And how can we get opera to do that?

This year, Renegade staged an immersive, interactive adaptation of Mozart’s La clemenza di Tito, and Max was there for that too. Read his report here.

Madison Hall and Eliot Menard in Renegade Opera’s “Tito.” Photo by Tom Lupton.

My name is–what?

Here we must leave you, dear reader, lest our map become the territory and thereby be rendered useless. The stories that were left out tell a story as complete as the ones collected here. Dissatisfied readers are invited to voice their concerns in The Comments.

As a parting thought, I must explain the year’s last (and worst) pun.

The “Janus” part is clear enough. Here we are at the nexus of two years, facing back into one and forward into another, hope and determination on our doubled faces. But why “My name is”–what’s the deal there?

Blame Weezer. Their song “My Name Is Jonas” opens their one good LP, 1994’s self-titled blue album. The song was written and debuted thirty years ago, in 1992, which means it’s older than your grandkids. It’s catchy as hell, and we like it better than “Auld Lang Syne.” Here’s the “Kitchen Tapes” version from ‘92:

Happy New Year, music nuts, and may your 2023 be bright!

How games like Hellblade 2 are seeking out alternative music


Videogame music has always flirted with the alternative music industry. From the nostalgic 90s-era Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater series, which introduced artists such as Papa Roach and Rage Against the Machine to those of us who still didn’t have a functional internet connection at home, through to the 00s and the rise in popularity of Guitar Hero, it’s been an upward climb for the more extreme genres in music making an appearance in gaming.

These days, alternative genres are beginning to dominate videogame music as developers experiment with sound design and composition more than ever. A deeply intense, heavy soundtrack can add atmosphere and immersion to a game that would feel empty without it.

Senua’s Saga: Hellblade 2

Take experimental folk outfit Heilung, who are working on the soundtrack for Senua’s Saga: Hellblade 2. The Scandinavian trio base their own music on texts and runic inscriptions from the Bronze and Iron Ages as well as, lesser so, the Viking Age. The name of the band itself translates to “healing” in German, and with the narrative themes of the Hellblade series falling around Senua’s journey to heal from trauma and loss, the band already seems a perfect fit – and that’s before you even dive into their involvement.

“They approached us with an idea that rang very true within ourselves and the way that we work, because they’re working with healing but on a different platform,” Maria Franz, who joined Heilung shortly after its formation, says with a smile. “We were really aware that we had so much in common and really connected. I remember being fascinated by that.”

Heilung as a collective met in the early 2000s from a “living history scene” where they would reenact historic events. “It started with Kai [Uwe Faust] wanting to record some poems in my studio at the exchange of tattooing,” Christopher Juul explains. “It became a collaboration on art and music.” Heilung is not only a music project, he tells us, but a multimedia project with visuals, animation, and books with no limit. “That only felt natural to us to start collaborating outside what we normally do such as movies and videogames.”

Their collaboration with Hellblade series developers Ninja Theory came after a video of one of their live rituals went viral. “Tamim [Antoniades, co-founder] and David [Garcia Diaz, audio director] stumbled upon that video on YouTube and were like, ‘Oh my God, this is who we need to work with on the next game,’ and they reached out,” Franz says.

The trio then went on to travel to the Ninja Theory studio in Copenhagen where they showcased their working methods. “We took some artifacts we had in the studio and started playing around with it. Kai sang some, I sang some, Chris played some and spent an hour mixing it together and doing magic to it. David and Tamim were just sitting there,” she says mouth agape, chuckling. “We also became really good friends. They’re really nice people.”

Collaboration is at the heart of everything Heilung does and they hope that players will be able to hear that in-game. “When we create our own albums we go out into nature and record actual sounds,” Juul explains, “and this is very much how Ninja Theory works with this game to make it as immersive and natural as possible.”

That immersion takes different forms, but Juul goes on to explain that this shared vision for collaboration and nature led to the band recording sounds in Iceland, and more specifically a lava cave. This led to the creation of a soundscape that just wouldn’t be possible for a regular vinyl.

“The idea of being able to move your head inside the music, you know, like literally when you are moving your head inside the game you can change the perception of the sound and where different elements of the music are placed relative to you is something you cannot really do with a stereo,” he says. “That has been a really interesting path because that truly captures the essence of being in, for instance, a lava cave, because you are there. When you put on your headphones we are actually there in that location for real, singing, and you will hear it as if we are there.”

The passion and love Heilung has for Hellblade 2 and the Ninja Theory team is evident from the way its members talk about the process, the people, and the environments before even having seen any imagery from the game. As the creative process is still ongoing, and the band are obviously under non-disclosure agreements prior to its release, they’re limited as to the extent of the information they can reveal and discuss. “If you could look in our heads now you would be, ‘Oh!’,” Faust says with an open-mouthed, amazed expression. But that doesn’t stop Heilung from teasing us. “I can say something,” Juul says. “We are going to be playing the game much more than you think.”

“An easter egg for another time,” Franz adds.

The technicality and depth of Heilung’s involvement with Ninja Theory and Hellblade 2 runs much deeper than just music. Along this “fantastic journey” the band have been on, they’ve had the chance to bounce ideas back and forth with the game’s developers in a “ping-pong” process. It’s something they consider to be a gift and believe the end result will be something amazing.

Destiny and Halo 2

However, Heilung’s journey differs strongly from Misha Mansoor’s involvement with the Destiny series. Mansoor, a member of progressive metal outfit Periphery, states from the very beginning of our chat that he could “never” be a videogame music composer, despite having his work not only in Destiny 2, but on the Halo 2 Anniversary soundtrack too.

“I’ve put a lot of hours into Destiny,” he laughs. “There was a strike that had a song that I just loved. I thought it was a really well-composed song. These strikes have these boss battles and it’s the culmination of a long mission and you always hear the song. I just thought it was epic and fitting,” he says, before mentioning that he thought it would “make a good metal song.”

He took on the project with zero expectations: “I just did a cover of it for fun, but to the exact same tempo. I was using it as a reference track because I wanted to get all of the layers and all the little details.”

When his version of the Sepik’s Prime theme was posted online, Mansoor said people liked it. “As it turns out, they [Bungie] were working on an expansion,” he says, which was the Rise of Iron DLC for Destiny 1.

“I guess the developers just found it, and were using it as a placeholder for this one part of a raid that they were working on and they actually asked me if they could license it.” Mansoor laughs, “Yeah, I didn’t realise that’s how that worked.” In the end, the music wasn’t used for the raid in the original Destiny, but the original strike was revamped and reprised for Destiny 2, which now features Mansoor’s version of the track.

“It’s funny how that worked out. I’ve been involved with a couple of Bungie-related things by accident,” he says. “In this case it was just that I was a fan.” Mansoor is referring to the Halo 2 Anniversary soundtrack, which came about due to pre-existing relationships with Finishing Move, a production company working on music composition and sound design for TV and videogames, which Mansoor tells us does a lot of work with 343 Industries and Microsoft.

“They just did music for The Callisto Protocol and they did Flight Simulator and they do these big games,” he explains. “This [Halo 2 Anniversary Edition] was, I think, one of the biggest games they were doing at the time. Funnily enough I have never played Halo, but they were explaining that in the original game they licensed an Incubus song and a Breaking Benjamin song and they just didn’t want to have to pay to relicense those,” he laughs, “But they wanted these high energy rock and metal songs.”

As Mansoor explains, the rock and metal genres are tricky to work with and easy to get wrong unless you “live and breathe” them. When Finishing Move realised the limits of its capabilities, it approached Mansoor for help – something he was never really credited for.

“It’s interesting, I never got properly credited for it which I probably should be more mad about, but I kind of don’t care,” laughs Mansoor, referring to the final tracks that are on the soundtrack – Breaking the Covenant and Follow in Flight. “Luckily in the YouTube comments, people seem to know that it’s me.”

Despite his positive experiences, Mansoor is adamant he’d never want to pursue writing rock and metal for videogames further. “I think I would rather just be fed these little morsels and get to experience it for what it is. Seeing what Mick Gordon went through, I don’t know exactly what happened there and I’m sure there’s two sides to every story, but there’s one side there that’s got a goddamn table of contents. You know what I’m saying?”

Mansoor is referring to the well-publicised argument over working conditions and pay that has been taking place between Doom series composer Mick Gordon and developing studio Id Software.

“Knowing Mick, I’m a bit more inclined to believe him, and knowing what this industry is like – it kind of tracks,” he adds. “I don’t necessarily want to interact too much with that side. I like that I get to flirt with it a little bit and enjoy the fun stuff and not have to deal with the dark side of being a videogame compose.”

In terms of games he’d love to contribute to, the Final Fantasy series tops the list due to the immersive feeling and emotive response it triggers in him. “I think a lot of people might be quick to write videogame music off but I think the pieces of music that have affected me most in my life might be videogame music, which says a lot,” he explains. “You spend so much time in this world, in this game, and you form these emotional attachments to the story.”

Sonic Frontiers

There are, of course, instances where video game music contributors actually don’t have a hand in the composition of the track at all, as is the case for Merry Kirk-Holmes of To Octavia who was approached to feature on the Sonic Frontiers soundtrack seemingly out of nowhere. “Our drummer was a big fan of the series, but I was not too familiar with it or the soundtrack,” he says. Kirk-Holmes’ vocals feature on the main theme for Sonic Frontiers, I’m Here, but he’s still not entirely sure how that happened.

“We got a message from someone with no followers, nothing, and they said they were from Sega and had heard about To Octavia and wanted to get me to sing on a song, and we instantly thought it was a scam but asked them to email our managers,” he laughs. “They did, and it turned out to be completely legit.”

However, Kirk-Holmes’ creative input stopped at writing the lyrics and performing the vocals. It was Japanese-American hard rock band Crush 40’s Jun Senoue who was producing the track, and had a particular interest in emerging artists. Through this interest, Senoue heard Kirk-Holmes’ band and reached out.

“[Tomoya Ohtani] arranged the track and I tried to stick as much as possible to his guide melody,” Kirk-Holmes says, “They were okay with the first thing I put down,” he continues, noting that the process was “painless” and the only changes being requested were down to his Australian accent. Kirk-Holmes himself is an RPG fan, and loves the direction Sonic Frontiers has taken, but if you were to ask him what he would love to lend his vocals to next, it’d be a WWE game.

It’s clear then that there’s huge variation in the industry, down to how much creative input an artist has when working on videogame music, especially when that isn’t their main involvement in music and they all have primary projects. The roads in are varied and often unexpected, and it seems that artists are scouted for game music rather than actively seeking out these opportunities and putting themselves forward for them.

The rewards are different, the possibilities are endless, but there’s a definite shift in metal and alternative artists being asked to collaborate with game developers, as opposed to having their already released music imported into games. There’s much more creative freedom afforded to external contributing artists than ever before, and that in itself is incredibly exciting.

How tukkadas can enhance the appeal of a Carnatic concert?


The classical music concert dais poses a lot of challenges to artistes. They are expected to constantly raise the bar. Singing niravals, kalpanaswaras, or a ragam-tanam-pallavi (RTP) with intricate rhythmic patterns are time-tested ways to showcase one’s creativity.

However, those who come to concert halls for sheer enjoyment look for songs that are simple but linger on in the mind and heart. These are the ‘tukkadas’.

The practice of singing the thevaram, divya prabandham or pasuram, which date back to the 7th and 8th centuries, was popular because bhakti dominated the kutcheris and there was no time constraint. Also, the concerts were not confined to halls. As the concert format evolved, these pieces were pushed to the concluding section.

Bombay Sisters – C. Saroja and C. Lalitha at The Music Academy’s 87th Annual Conference and Concerts in Chennai, held in 2013.
| Photo Credit:
GANESAN V

During the 2013 music season, vocalist Kiranavali Vidyasankar, who loves to delve deep into all aspects of compositions, presented a lec-dem on ‘Traditional Tukkadas’. Her presentation included Tyagaraja’s Divyanama and Utsava Sampradaya keerthanas, Annamacharya’s sankeertana, ashtapadi, tarangam, Dasara pada, javalis, kavadi chindu, and more. Did you know that the kavadi chindu ‘Kannan varugindra neram’ was by Oothukkadu Venkatakavi.

Small piece, big impact

But why did these songs with fine aspects of musicality and lyrical beauty come to be known as ‘Tukkadas’, which means small piece in Hindi?

“A small piece doesn’t mean trivial. Tukkadas are as rich and musical as the main numbers in Thodi, Kalyani or Kamboji,” says vocalist Radha Bhaskar, who along with her mridangam artiste-husband Bhaskar runs Mudhra, an organisation to promote classical music. In 1999, they had organised a Tukkada Festival in which veteran vocalists Bombay Sisters Saroja and Lalitha performed an exclusive tukkada concert. Mudhra revived the idea this year and ran a series of tukkada concerts by young artistes. “The limited concert time today does not offer musicians the opportunity to explore the immense variety of tukkadas. So, we came up with this unique concept,” says Radha.

Popular vocalist duo Ranjani and Gayathri presented a lec-dem on ‘Leveraging the tukkada’ at The Music Academy in 2018 and spoke about how they prepare for this section. Their rendering of viruthams and abhangs are enjoyed by the audiences. They build the sangatis in abhangs gradually, sing the alapana as in khayals in Hindustani music and take the climax to a dramatic finish.

Madurai Mani Iyer during a concert.
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

In the past, many legendary musicians structured their kutcheris in such a way that they could accommodate at least four to six tukkadas after the main piece. People waited for ‘Eppo varuvaro’, ‘Vellai thamarai’ and ‘Kandhan karunai puriyum’ in every concert by Madurai Mani Iyer. He also popularised Muthiah Bhagavatar’s ‘English Note’ so much so that it came to be known as the ‘Madurai Mani note’. G.N. Balasubramaniam’s lilting, fast-paced presentation of ‘Radha sametha krishna’ (Mishra Yaman) and ‘Dikku theriyada kaatil’ in Ragamalika were much looked forward to at his concerts.

MAHARAJA SWATHI THIRUNAL
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

As a contrast, K.V. Narayanaswamy’s vilambakala or slow-paced pieces such as ‘Varugalamo’ by Gopalakrishna Bharati (Manji), Purandaradasa’s ‘Jagadoddharana’ (Kapi) and ‘Eppadi manam thunindhadho’ from Arunachala Kavi’s Rama Natakam, set to tune by his guru Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar in Husseni, were major attractions. Who can forget his sedate ‘Ali veni yentu cheyvu’, a Swati Tirunal padam in Kurinji?

Thanjavur Sankara Iyer during his lecture-demonstration on the fusion of devotion and art in Tamil songs at Sri Krishna Gana Sabha, T Nagar, in Chennai on August 14, 1991.
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

While D.K. Pattammal included the medium-paced ‘Eppadi padinaro’ (Karnataka Devagandhari) and ‘Naan oru vilaiyattu bommaiya’ (Navarasa Kannada) apart from many patriotic songs by Subramanya Bharati, her sibling D.K. Jayaraman added compositions of his contemporaries such as ‘Nekkurugi’ (Abhogi) and ‘Nambikkettavar’ (Hindolam) by Papanasam Sivan, and ‘Mahadeva siva shambo’ (Revathi) and ‘Ranjanimala’ by Thanjavur Sankara Iyer. “He had enough songs, even in Sindhu Bhairavi, to choose from such as ‘Vaa vaa vaa murugaiya’ (Gomathi Ramasubramanian), ‘Karunai deivame’ (Madurai Srinivasan), ‘Gangadeeswaram’ (Guru Surajananda), and ‘Manadirkugandhadhu’ (Thanjavur Sankara Iyer),” says his senior disciple Dr. S. Sunder.

The variety in M.L. Vasanthakumari’s post-tani session consisted of interesting collections of Dasara padas and tarangams, among others. For the evergreen ‘Baro krishnayya’ by Kanakadasa set in Ragamalika, and ‘Muralidhara Gopala’ by Periyasamy Thooran in Maand, the ugabhoga and shlokam preceding them gave her fans the hint of the songs.

Meera Bhajans, songs from Tamil epics (Vadavariyai Matthakki from the Silappadikaram), Annamacharya’s compositions such as ‘Cheri yashodaku’ and the most popular ‘Kurai onrum illai’ by Rajaji added colour to the inimitable M.S. Subbulakshmi’s concerts.

T. Brinda.
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

Senior vocalist Rama Ravi traces the origin of these songs to the times when royal kingdoms ceased to exist, and the musicians relocated to various places for livelihood. “The concerts shifted from the courts to the stage and needed to be re-structured to present a variety in a limited time. Musicians with a dance background such as the duo, Brinda and Mukta (from the illustrious Dhanammal family), introduced padams and javalis, which were usually a part of dance performances, in their vocal concert,” she says.

Rama points out how musicians such as Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar, who is credited with creating the kutcheri format as we experience today, tuned verses from bhakti literature such as Andal’s Tiruppavai pasurams and presented them in concerts.

“Not only music concerts, short pieces such as Bharatiyar’s ‘Theeradha vilaiyattu pillai’, which offers enough scope for abhinaya, were introduced in dance performances. Even thillanas such as Veena Seshanna’s composition in Thodi later gave way to those in ragas such as Desh for enhanced appeal,” says Rama Ravi.

Portrait of poet Subramania Bharati.
| Photo Credit:
THE HINDU ARCHIVES

According to senior veena artiste Kalyani Ganesan, “After the tani avartanam that involves intricate arithmetic calculations, these creatively presented viruthams come as a breather.” She recalls how once during a concert, after a grand tani, Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer said, “Marandhu poche” (I’ve forgotten), and even as the listeners wondered, began to sing Bharati’s ‘Aasai mukham marandhu poche’.

Music composer Papanasam Sivan.
| Photo Credit:
R.K. SRIDHARAN

“Thillanas give an enticing finishing touch to a concert. But for instrumental music, we prefer well-known songs that can be easily identified by listeners. Just because these songs do not have alapana or kalpanaswaras, they are not less important,” says Kalyani, who usually concludes her concerts with Papanasam Sivan’s ‘Karpagame kann parai’ in Madhayamavati, as an offering to the goddess of Mylapore.

Creatively composed thillanas

Violin maestro Lalgudi Jayaraman. Photo : Special Arrangement
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

While Lalgudi Jayaraman had an amazing variety to offer in this section with lovely interludes such as the one at ‘Pinnalai pinnindrizhuppan’ in ‘Theeratha vilaiyattu pillai’ and his own thillanas, M.S. Gopalakrishnan used to present pieces in ragas such as Darbari Kanada and Hamsanandi with touches of the Hindustani style. The latter, along with vocalist S. Kalyanaraman, used to render ‘Hari gun gavat’, a Meera bhajan set in the raga Dipali to the delight of connoisseurs.

Any regular concert-goer during the Music Season will remember T.N. Krishnan’s ‘Jingle bells’ on his Christmas day concert at The Music Academy, as the penultimate tukkada as well as his ‘Sri Venkatagirisam’ (Surutti).

Today a lot of contemporary verses with social messages are also being included in the tukkada portion. T.M. Krishna set to tune and sang a kavadi chindu on Babasaheb Ambedkar, written by Perumal Murugan.

Though there are a wide variety of tukkadas to present in the post-tani session, not many artistes strive to make this an exciting part of the concert. Maybe because, the duration of Carnatic concerts have shrunk. But when sung in madhyamasruti, and in ragas such as Nadanamakriya, Chenchuruti, Brindavani, Madhuvanthi, Desh and Bageshri, the ‘small piece’ can become the pièce de résistance.

T.N. Krishnan, Viji Natarajan, Sriram Krishnan, during their concert at The Music Academy, Chennai on December 25, 2008.
| Photo Credit:
GANESAN V

Any regular concert-goer during the Music Season will remember violin maestro T.N. Krishnan’s ‘Jingle bells’, the penultimate tukkada in his Christmas day concert at The Music Academy

Hear Asante’s new album at White Water


“All the Names of God at Once,” the hypnotizing debut solo album from Little Rock astral soul singer-songwriter Joshua Asante, isn’t out until late January, but there is a chance for you to get an early listen. Asante will perform the record during a show Friday at White Water Tavern in Little Rock.

Blcvck Spvde of St. Louis and Little Rock electronic musician Yuni Wa will open.

Asante, frontman for Amasa Hines and Velvet Kente, began work on the record in late 2019 with the idea of rolling it out in 2020. Care to guess what happened next?

“I had in my mind that I’d get these songs together. I’d started touring solo, and I thought that at the top of 2020 I’d go out and play these songs,” Asante says with a chuckle.

Of course, the pandemic prevented any touring or shows for a while. “There are probably half a billion stories like that from pre-covid life, of musicians and artists who thought they were going to do something,” Asante muses.

Something positive came from the delay, however. The record, which comes out Jan. 28 on Asante’s Quiet Contender label, was initially planned as a quickly recorded project. With more time on his hands, Asante began to tinker with the album, with help from Zachariah Reeves who played bass and keyboards and contributed to the production.

[RELATED: Live Music in Arkansas for New Year’s Weekend]

“We recorded at the chapel behind Fellowship Hall Sound,” he says. “As the virus proliferated, we ended up sort of mixing and overdubbing on it for the next year and a half. So it sounds like an expensive record, but the primary capital investment was time … . Having that time changed the shape of the record. It made it an album.”

The result is a dreamy, atmospheric album that calls to mind TV on the Radio, Radiohead and Alabama Shakes. There are forays into jazz, electronica, rock, soul and ’80s synth pop, all highlighted by Asante’s passionate and intense vocals.

“Seen It, Say It,” an album highlight that Asante calls his best composition, features saxophonist Stuart Bogie, a member of New York-based afro-beat group Antibalas who also played on TV on the Radio’s “Return to Cookie Mountain” and has recorded or performed with the Hold Steady, Run the Jewels, Arcade Fire, Amy Helm, Adia Victoria, Taylor Swift and more.

    Joshua Asante (Special to the Democrat-Gazette/Joshua Asante)  “I sent him the song to put some clarinet on and he made such a lush orchestration, I have to credit him for a greater contribution because of how diligent he was with this one song,” Asante says.

There’s also an undeniable spiritual element to the record, whose title was inspired by the Saul Williams song “All John Coltrane’s Solos at Once.”

“I was like, if you’re trying to create a mental framework around all of his solos at once, you’re trying to hear all of the names of God at once,” Asante says. “The way [Coltrane] worked, he was trying to pronounce all he understood about creation, the creator, the creators and divinity. I scribbled those thoughts down, and they stayed with me as a common thread from a philosophical standpoint.”

Lyrically, Asante is influenced by things like “Blade Runner,”http://www.bing.com/news/”Dune,” Black speculative fiction and the sci-fi novels of Octavia Butler. “Everybody Gets Used,” the album opener, reflects these touchstones and sets the tone for the record, he says.

“This notion of like, you’re in a car and it’s a scene in ‘Blade Runner’ but there are actually Black people there. Or you’re on Arrakis [from ‘Dune’] and there are Black people among the Fremen. I wanted the rest of the record to pan out from there.”

Joining Asante onstage for the Friday album show will be Reeves, Seratones drummer Jesse Gabriel and bassist Corey Harris.

It’s become fairly common for musicians to perform entire albums in concert, though Asante’s approach of presenting an unreleased work is unique. We were wondering, though, what album would he like to see played live in its entirety?

“Oooooo, damn. I almost said [Radiohead’s] ‘In Rainbows,’ but I’ve watched [the concert video] ‘From the Basement,’ like, 1,000 times. I think I’d go with ‘Black Up,’ by Shabazz Palaces. That would be tight.”

Joshua Asante

  • Opening acts: Blcvck Spvde, Yuni Wa
  • 8:30 p.m. Friday, White Water Tavern, 2500 W. 7th St., Little Rock
  • Admission: $10
  • Information: (501) 375-8400 | whitewatertavern.com

As 2023 approaches, we look back at the artists we lost


As we arrive at the final Saturday column of this musical year, we give thanks for the many musicians and opportunities that we have had this year to share, perform and listen to the euterpic, terpsichoric and polyhymnic offerings of our muses. Pardon me as I remember back and look forward at a few notable people. 

Those of us who have gravitated to musical theatre remember two giants of the theater who have brought down their final curtain. Stephen Sondheim came to the fore over 65 years ago. His first show was in 1954 and his last premiere was in 2008. In between, he gave theatre aficionados hours of thrilling music and storytelling. Most of his catalog is revived and programmed year after year around the country. He is truly a giant in the industry.

In a career of nearly 80 years is Angela Lansbury, actress and chanteuse. She is well known across several generations from her days in “Gaslight” to her turn as Jessica Fletcher to Mrs. Lovett and Mrs. Potts. I first got to know her work in “Bedknobs and Broomsticks.” I remember her in Jerry Herman’s “Mrs. Santa Claus,” a made-for-TV musical movie. She brought Herman’s “Mame” to life on the stage 30 years earlier. My children know her from “Beauty and the Beast” as the charming singer of the Academy Award-winning title song. However you know her work, you saw a consummate professional. 

This was the year that Ned Rorem died. I know Ned Rorem as a composer of song cycles that many of us used in our voice lessons. But he composed symphonies and operas as well. His 20th-century outlook in music was tonal in nature and not given to some of the other classical compositional styles that have been popular in the recent past. He is perhaps best known for evoking the French impressionists in his compositional style. It is said he regarded all music as lyrical, even if no words were associated with it. 

Loretta Lynn and Meat Loaf sang in two very distinct genres, but each influenced new generations of musicians. Ms. Lynn showed us that, despite growing up in one of the poorest parts of this country, one can rise above circumstances and create careers of which to be proud. Meat Loaf showed it’s okay to have fun with your music; at least that’s what I take from his appearance in “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” To that, I can relate. 

To look forward, we look no further than King Charles III. If past coronations are any indication, we can expect many newly commissioned compositions to celebrate this change of the reigning monarch. We will see several old favorites trotted out (Zadok the Priest), as well as new coronation music reflective of the British style of composition (consider that “Orb and Sceptre” was composed for his mother’s coronation and “Crown Imperial” for his grandfather’s). What British composer will step forward for this important musical event?

Farewell, 2022. Hello, 2023. Show me what you’ve got! 

Richard Tiegs is a local musician. His periodic contributions reflect his broad interests in music. 

Columbia’s music scene picked up where it left off in 2022 | Concert and Music News


There’s something inherently pro-forma about these “taking stock of the year” cultural exercises. We make lists, look at the numbers, and squint back at what happened hundreds of days ago. Does it have a larger meaning, these twelve calendar months? Does it all fit together? How will we remember it?

Columbia wasn’t immune to the larger narratives that hit the national music scene in 2022. We saw big concerts and festivals return, but also a host of COVID 19-related cancellations, ballooning ticket costs thanks to inflation and the rise of dynamic pricing (thanks, Ticketmaster), and the lingering impacts the pandemic had on the mental health of everybody (particularly artists).

Enough negativity, though. The end of the year offers a chance to reflect on the bright spots in our music scene. The Senate, Township and Colonial Life Arena all seemed to return to something like normal. New Brookland Tavern continued its inspiring post-pandemic tear of impressive bookings. New venues like UU Coffeehouse-inspired The Living Room and the recording-focused At The Addition brought different and exciting performance spaces to the fold, while bookings at bars like Transmission Arcade and Uncle Fester’s filled the gaps with choice nights of dynamic bills.In the classical world, the SC Philharmonic continues to expand its offering and reimagine the spaces and modes of presentation for its fabulous and generous collection of players. The Southern Exposure New Music Series and USC Philharmonic reliably served their role as community pillars for cutting-edge contemporary composition and large, sweeping classical performances, respectively.

The year saw no end of touring heavyweights and local legends lighting up live music venues, but it was the records released in 2022 that really shined. Both the quality and quantity of what independent musicians release in a given calendar year never ceases to amaze me.


The Free Times annual “Best Music of SC” list [Editor’s note: coming in January!] is always a veritable collection of riches.. I was lit up in the beginning of the year by Calebjustcaleb’s off-hand drop of “Corrupted Harddrive 2,” a collection of pummeling and panache-driven rap tunes from a rapper who had ostensibly been devoting most of his time over the past few years to his pop-punk band Aim High, and the pace rarely slowed throughout the year.

I was as comforted by the acts who just continued to churn out their signature greatness like singer-rapper Been Milah, indie rocker Tyler Gordon’s Hillmouse and experimental nerd-rap outfit Autocorrect as I was by those artists who surprised me.

The latter category includes Boo Hag frontman Saul Seibert, who slowly teased out his instrumental stoner/psych concept album “Zion” over the course of the year. Retro folkie Lang Owen collaborated with singer/songwriter and producer Todd Mathis to deliver a warm, rich sophomore LP. Multi-instrumentalist and frequent sideman Moses Andrews III sort of falls in this category too, delivering an EP that showcases his first-rate songwriting chops alongside his omnivorous stylistic range.

We also got long-awaited records from the likes of R&B powerhouse Katera and the shimmering indie pop band Rex Darling that more than delivered on their promise. Both long-cemented acts in the scene were given fresh lives and renewed energy thanks to their recording projects, so much that they now seem like the bright young hopes once again.

Speaking of “the scene,” my favorite local scene moment of 2022 was the return of the Jam Room Music Festival, one of our city’s best yearly musical offerings that had been paused by the pandemic. As tightly connected to the Main Street watering hole The Whig as the titular recording studio, there was something rejuvenating and bittersweet about this year’s festival. The Whig – a tiny room that punched above its weight with shows by acts like Shovels & Rope, Richard Buckner and American Aquarium – closed its doors for good in November to make way for yet another new downtown hotel.

When taking in the stirring, transfixing performance of the Sun Ra Arkestra at the fest next to Boyd Plaza, one couldn’t help but feel the same thing felt every year at this time: the music, like the calendar, can’t help but go on.



A garland of musical events — chamber, orchestral, operatic and more — coming in 2023


Music Director Donato Cabrera conducts the California Symphony’s opening concert on Sept. 19, 2021. Photo: Art Garcia

In other respects, 2022 may have been a problematic year. But it was a wonderful stretch of time on the classical music front, full of brilliant performances and provocative new works.

Because I’m a natural-born optimist, I’m going to assume this will continue into the new year. In chronological order, here are 12 events I’m looking forward to in the early months of 2023.

Mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato Photo: Sergi Jasanada

Joyce DiDonato

The eloquent American mezzo-soprano, fresh off her triumphant turn as Virginia Woolf in the world premiere of Kevin Puts’ opera “The Hours” at the Metropolitan Opera, returns to the Bay Area with her new music/theatrical recital “Eden.” Together with the Baroque instrumental ensemble Il Pomo d’Oro, she has assembled music by Ives, Mahler, Handel, Copland and more — as well as a newly commissioned song by the British composer Rachel Portman — to address the climate crisis.

7:30 p.m. Jan. 20. $15-$148. Bing Concert Hall, Stanford University. 650-724-2464. https://live.stanford.edu; 8 p.m. Jan. 21. $36-$86. Zellerbach Hall, UC Berkeley. 510-642-9988. https://calperformances.org

Conductor Andrew Grams Photo: Provided by Andrew Grams

Oakland Symphony

As it continues a multiyear search for a music director to succeed the late Michael Morgan, each of the orchestra’s programs offers a chance to witness not only a guest conductor’s performance style, but their repertoire choices as well. Guest conductor Andrew Grams comes to Oakland with an all-American program featuring music by two African American figures, Florence Price and William Dawson; both of them works based on folk themes. Gershwin’s Second Rhapsody, with piano soloist Sara Davis Buechner, fills out the program.

8 p.m. Jan. 27. $19.60-$90. Paramount Theatre, 2025 Broadway, Oakland. 510-444-0801. www.oaklandsymphony.org

Composer Gabriel Kahane Photo: Jason Quigley

San Francisco Symphony: ‘Emergency Shelter Intake Form’

Gabriel Kahane is best known as a singer-songwriter, the creator of rich and harmonically inventive music that explores both the interior and the public landscapes. But his music draws equally on the pop and classical lexicon, which makes the prospect of a full orchestral score — to be introduced by the San Francisco Symphony with conductor Edwin Outwater — something to look forward to with enthusiasm. The piece, which takes its title from the world of bureaucracy, is on the subject of homelessness.

Feb. 2-3. $43-$135. Davies Symphony Hall, 201 Van Ness Ave., S.F. 415-864-6000. www.sfsymphony.org

Violinist Midori Photo: Timothy Greenfield

Midori

Every appearance by Japanese violinist Midori is a treat, an extravagant blend of dazzling technical skill and probing interpretive insight lavished on both traditional and out-of-the way repertoire. Her two San Francisco recitals are anchored by Bach’s music for unaccompanied violin, which she’s pair with recent works by Thierry Escaich, Annie Gosfield, Jessie Montgomery and John Zorn.

7:30 p.m. Feb. 2. 2 p.m. Feb. 5. $50-$70. Herbst Theatre, 401 Van Ness Ave., S.F. 415-392-2545. www.sfperformances.org

An artist’s rendering of Opera Parallèle’s “Everest: An Immersive Experience.” Photo: Opera Parallèle

‘Everest: An Immersive Experience’

The video version of composer Joby Talbot’s opera “Everest,” which Opera Parallèle created during the pandemic lockdown, was a marvel of genre hybridization that blended recorded singing, animation and the aesthetic of the graphic novel. Now that audiences can more safely gather in person, director Brian Staufenbiel has repurposed the material as an immersive show, with the video and music resounding all around the audience.

“Everest: An Immersive Experience”: Opera Parallèle. Feb. 3-12. $20-$115. Z Space, 450 Florida St., S.F. https://operaparallele.org. 

Conductor and composer John Williams Photo: Todd Rosenberg Photography

John Williams

The venerable conductor and composer — not of film scores exclusively, but of concert music as well — returns to the Bay Area for a one-night visit with the San Francisco Symphony. Anne-Sophie Mutter is slated to serve as soloist in Williams’ Violin Concerto No. 2, on a program that also features music from “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” the “Star Wars” and “Harry Potter” franchises, “Cinderella Liberty” and more.

7:30 p.m. Feb. 14. Sold out. Davies Symphony Hall, 201 Van Ness Ave., S.F. 415-864-6000. www.sfsymphony.org 

Catalyst Quartet Photo: Ricardo Quinones

Catalyst Quartet

San Francisco Performances’ annual Pivot Festival is given over to three recitals by this ambitious string quartet, which has devoted itself to championing the overlooked work of Black and female composers. Each of the programs includes a quartet by the 18th century musician Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges; along with that recurrent theme comes a range of music by such composers as Ethel Smyth, Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, Fanny Mendelssohn and more.

7:30 p.m. Feb. 21-23. $45-$65. Herbst Theatre, 401 Van Ness Ave., S.F. 415-392-2545. www.sfperformances.org

Mezzo-soprano Ann Hallenberg Photo: Örjan Jakobsson

‘Solomon’

At the end of 2021, Harry Bicket and the English Concert came to Berkeley for a performance of Handel’s opera “Alcina” that was marked by powerful singing and regrettable technical mishaps. Without the latter, the group’s return — for a single performance of Handel’s Biblical oratorio “Solomon” — promises to be sublime. Mezzo-soprano Ann Hallenberg takes the title role, with soprano Miah Persson as Solomon’s Queen.

3 p.m. March 5. $42-$125. Zellerbach Hall, UC Berkeley. 510-642-9988. https://calperformances.org

Vienna Philharmonic Photo: Anne Zeuner

Vienna Philharmonic

The orchestra regarded by some as the world’s finest comes to Berkeley for a three-concert stint, led by the acclaimed German conductor Christian Thielemann. The repertoire choices are narrow (Brahms, Bruckner, Mendelssohn, etc.), but the orchestra’s gloriously burnished sound and its members’ ability to play as one may well prove revelatory.

7:30 p.m. March 7-9. $50-$275. Zellerbach Hall, UC Berkeley. 510-642-9988. https://calperformances.org

Contralto Sara Couden Photo: Veronique Kherian

California Symphony

Gustav Mahler infamously declared after marrying the vivacious and talented Alma Schindler that there could be only one composer in the family, thus putting a halt to her creative aspirations. But some of her fragrant, expressive early songs do remain, and contralto Sara Couden is slated to sing them with Music Director Donato Cabrera and the California Symphony.

The rest of the program throws a spotlight on other members of Mahler’s social circle, Alexander von Zemlinsky and the little-known Hans Rott.

7:30 p.m. March 25. 4 p.m. March 26. $49-$79. Lesher Center for the Arts, 1601 Civic Dr., Walnut Creek. 925-943-7469. www.californiasymphony.org

Anthony Roth Costanzo (Galatea) during rehearsal of Philharmonia Baroque’s production of Aci, Galatea e Polifemo in San Francisco on Jan. 14, 2020. Photo: Scott Strazzante / The Chronicle 2020

Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra & Chorale: ‘Amadigi di Gaula’

The differences between Handel’s operas and oratorios can sometimes seem narrow; aside from the difference in language (Italian versus English), the musical procedures are pretty similar. But the operas do partake of a slightly unhinged quality that the oratorios rarely touch. A case in point is “Amadigi di Gaula,” a tale of sorcery and vengeance that is due for performance by Richard Egarr and the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra & Chorale. Countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo, unforgettable in the group’s 2020 staging of “Aci, Galatea e Polifemo,” returns in the title role.

8 p.m. April 20-22. $80-$120. Taube Atrium Theater, 401 Van Ness Ave., S.F. 415-295-1900. www.philharmonia.org

Tenor Sam Faustine in the title role of Britten’s “Albert Herring” at Pocket Opera. Photo: Veronique Kherian

Pocket Opera: ‘Albert Herring’

Pocket Opera tackles the music of Britten for the first time in its four-decade history, and what could be more appropriate than this delightful chamber comedy of a repressed young man who successfully throws off societal (and parental) expectations to find his own way in life? Tenor Sam Faustine takes the title role, with conductor David Drummond serving as music director and stage direction by Nicolas A. Garcia.

April 23-May 7. $30-$75. Locations in Berkeley, San Francisco and Mountain View. 415-972-8934. www.pocketopera.org



‘A human experience’: January concert of Le Salon de Musiques will bring ‘monumental’ music to La Jolla


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Le Salon de Musiques is looking to kick off the new year and grow its local audience with a concert that Francois Chouchan, founder of the chamber music series, says is “something very important in my personal life and … artistic life.”

Le Salon de Musiques, now in its second season in La Jolla, presents monthly concerts where audiences sit close to the musicians and socialize afterward.

The performance on Sunday, Jan. 8, called “Winter Journey,” will begin at 4 p.m. at the La Jolla Woman’s Club, 7791 Draper Ave.

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The concert’s title is the English translation of “Winterreise,” an 1827 composition by Austrian Franz Schubert that contains 24 German poems written by Wilhelm Müller for piano and baritone.

Chouchan, himself an experienced classical pianist, will perform the song cycle with Grammy Award-winning baritone Matthew Worth. Audience members will receive a program with the songs translated into English.

“I always love performing Schubert because his music talks to me very much, very deeply.”

— Francois Chouchan, pianist and founder of Le Salon de Musiques

Schubert wrote “Winterreise” a few months before his death at age 31, Chouchan said. The composition is about a man talking to his lover in the middle of the night.

“He cannot reach her,” Chouchan said. “It’s cold, it’s winter and you have all around very dark elements. [It’s] very sad, melancholy, aggressive.”

“‘Winterreise’ is monumental, emotionally and physically,” he added. “There is nothing comparable in the German Romantic repertoire.”

Le Salon de Musiques performances are followed by a catered social hour.

(Le Salon de Musiques)

Chouchan said the “music is like a Schubert testament,” as Schubert “was a very shy person, a lonely person. He just had a few friends. And the only way for him to express his feelings, his love … was through the music.”

“Most of his music is a kind of therapy,” Chouchan added. “And so throughout those 24 songs that we will perform on Jan. 8, it’s like revealing who he was.”

He said the piece is “very tricky” for both singer and pianist, both of whom are soloists during the performance.

Schubert is “a mentor in my life,” Chouchan said. “I always love performing Schubert because his music talks to me very much, very deeply.”

“When I was 7 or 8 years old living in France, I went to listen to this piece in Paris,” he said. “I had a kind of revelation. I was crying for 30 minutes on my seat after the performance.”

Since then, Chouchan said, he has felt connected to Schubert and returns to his compositions again and again.

Le Salon de Musiques founder Francois Chouchan will perform on piano during the series’ concert on Sunday, Jan. 8, at the La Jolla Woman’s Club.

(Hojoon Kim)

All Le Salon de Musiques performances are preceded by a talk from musicologist Nuvi Mehta about the history of the pieces or composers. The concerts are followed by a question-and-answer session with the artists and a high tea buffet and champagne from The French Gourmet.

During the post-concert social hour, guests are encouraged to talk to the artists and one another.

“I’m very enthusiastic about the reactivity of the people and our new attendees who just discovered us,” said Chouchan, who noted that the October and November shows were sold out.

He said he knows La Jolla is home to many classical music events, but “our intimate concept is different. People … come and make new friends and they share music in a way that they never did before.”

Beyond listening to a concert, Le Salon de Musiques is “a human experience,” Chouchan said. “I really hope we can grow and develop more and more to bring more music and more beautiful emotions to people in San Diego.”

All concerts are at 4 p.m. Sundays at the Woman’s Club. Tickets are $95 for adults and $45 for students. Discounts are available for those who buy tickets for multiple concerts.

For tickets or more information, visit lesalondemusiques.com.

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The Best Texas Art, Movies, Music, and TV of 2022 – Texas Monthly


It’s an impossible task to sum up any year in art, but it feels especially challenging in 2022, a year in which we laughed with joy on Beyoncé’s dance floor, cried tears of secondhand embarrassment at Love Is Blind on Netflix, and scream-sang to Plains’ debut album. We asked Texas Monthly staffers and contributors to share their favorite moments of culture in 2022. The list that follows mixes high and low, pop culture and the avant-garde, and art to seek out along with streamable couch-potato fare. This year contained multitudes, just like Texas.

Beavis and Butt-head

The return of Beavis and Butt-head on Paramount Plus this June was a homecoming of sorts. Mike Judge’s cartoon hellions embraced their Texanness more explicitly than ever before, confirming at last that their fictional hometown of Highland is firmly situated within our fair state. Not that their surroundings matter much to them: Whether exploring the outer reaches of space in their new film Beavis and Butt-head Do the Universe, or experimenting with beekeeping, body-switching, and virtual reality in the rebooted series, TV’s most static duo remained squarely focused on scoring and breaking stuff. In the best of the new episodes, we even caught up with Beavis and Butt-head as middle-aged men—still couch-bound and wallowing in their own crapulence, only now with beers and disability checks in hand. There’s comfort to be found in their stagnation; even as we get older and the world changes at a terrifying pace, Beavis and Butt-head remain at the immutable center of it all, reliably pointing out everything that sucks. — Sean O’Neal

“Boxes for Meaningless Work,” Walter de Maria

The most interesting work in Walter de Maria’s retrospective at the Menil Collection in Houston is not an artwork at all; rather, it’s an essay from 1960 that’s displayed in a case. De Maria is best known for his Lightning Field in remote New Mexico—a vast field filled with four hundred gleaming metal rods that rarely, in fact, attract lightning, but which attract devout art pilgrims. But early in his career, the artist made humble, explicitly “meaningless” works directing viewers to do things like move a ball from one box to another or walk endlessly between two paintings on opposite walls. Boxes for Meaningless Work (1961) involves two open cubes with the following instructions: “Transfer things from one box to the next box, back and forth, back and forth, etc. Be aware that what you are doing is meaningless.”

In the essay displayed nearby, de Maria explains what he’s up to: “Meaningless work can contain all of the best qualities of old art forms such as painting, writing, etc. It can make you feel and think about yourself, the outside world, . . . etc. without the limitations of the old art forms.” Throughout the twentieth century, artists were trying to upend centuries-old norms of art. This is how we got abstraction, and later on, conceptual art like de Maria’s. This is art about ideas, not about beautiful objects. But the end goal of his seemingly nonsensical sets of instructions is the same as the Old Masters’: to make you attentive to some aspect of your human experience. His meaningless work is a kind of meditation, and although it seems funny, de Maria is deadly earnest. He finishes the essay with two lines of text, no punctuation: “Grunt Get to work.” — Rainey Knudson

Chronophage, Chronophage

Chronophage are a classic Austin band, if yours is the Austin of the Butthole Surfers, Glass Eye, and Sincola: indie rock that’s both gender- and genre-expansive, with equal helpings of art-damage, hooks, and noise. The four-piece band’s excellent second album, 2020’s Th’Pig’kiss’d, was largely lost to the pandemic; Chronophage, which was produced by Craig Ross (Daniel Johnston, Patty Griffin, Shearwater), is a true reach-for-the-sky third album of even greater scope and polish. Songs like “Black Clouds” and “Summer to Fall” have the spikiness of British art-school post-punk, but also the odd dreaminess of such influences as Prefab Sprout and Game Theory. The band is now scattered between Texas and other parts of the country, with co-frontpersons Parker Allen and Sarah Beames moving on to new educational and artistic endeavors in New York City and South Florida, respectively. But then, leaving Austin is also a pretty Austin thing to do. — Jason Cohen

Corrections in Ink: A Memoir, Keri Blakinger

Keri Blakinger landed in Texas in 2016 as a reporter for the Houston Chronicle. She quickly proved herself to be one of the most essential voices in the state’s media landscape, covering criminal justice with a fervent tenacity and an uncommon empathy for those with the least power in the system—defendants, prisoners, and their allies. In her memoir, Blakinger depicts in vivid, compelling prose why criminal justice reporting isn’t just a job, but a calling—because she has been through it all herself. She tells her story of being busted with six ounces of heroin while a senior at Cornell University, resulting in a two-and-a-half-year prison sentence, with an intimacy that brings to life not just her own humanity, but that of all of those with whom she served time. The book is a powerhouse of compassionate storytelling about some of the most marginalized among us, a group Blakinger serves well, both through the book and through her work at the criminal justice–focused journalistic outlet the Marshall Project. — Dan Solomon

From Scratch

I, like many folks (seriously, check the Twitter discourse), thought From Scratch, a Netflix limited series that debuted in October, would be a light, romantic reprieve à la the perennial Italy-escapism favorite Under the Tuscan Sun. Boy, were we all wrong. The show, starring Zoe Saldana, was written by Houston-born-and-raised sisters Tembi and Attica Locke, and is based on Tembi’s memoir of the same name. The first episode is frothy enough, with Saldana’s character (based on Tembi) traveling to Florence to learn about art and falling in love with a Sicilian chef named Lino. The emotional hammer comes down quickly after that. What follows are seven well-written, supremely well-acted, devastating episodes that incorporate parental abandonment, cancer, adoption, death, and grief, among other tough subjects. I was clicking “Next Episode” through a waterfall of my own tears. (Bonus: There are a few fun Texas-y references, including a shout-out to Greenberg Smoked Turkey.) — Kimya Kavehkar

I Walked With You A Ways, Plains

The debut album from Plains, a band composed of Dallas-area-native Jess Williamson and Alabaman Katie Crutchfield (aka Waxahatchee), feels like a modern version of the Chicks’ early-aughts endeavors. Stunning harmonies, evocative lyrics, banjo, fiddle, slide guitar, plenty of twang, and just an overall feeling of, well, wide open space. It is the sort of music to wail along with, happily, as you’re driving in your car. With songs written by both Williamson and Crutchfield in a kind of alternating Lennon-McCartney model, I Walked With You A Ways is a gift to Americana fans everywhere. But it seems extra special for anyone like me, who grew up with the Chicks. Cowgirls, take me away. — Emily McCullar

“The Infinite”

Immersive virtual reality experiences based on the lives of popular artists have become as common as street art in major cities. As a frequent museum visitor, I find them both entertaining and kind of appalling. I don’t think Van Gogh and Monet really need that kind of help. But immersive mediums can be incredibly affective when they present something entirely new. Science- and nature-themed shows seem to work especially well. “The Infinite” takes you “aboard” the International Space Station so convincingly it feels like you’re the one spacewalking. You could experience it, well, almost an infinite number of times and see something different with each trip. After opening in Houston last winter, it went to California and is on view in San Francisco through January. — Molly Glentzer

Love Is Blind

This fall, Love Is Blind, Nick and Vanessa Lachey’s deranged social experiment on Netflix, returned for a third season, this time set in Dallas. As in previous seasons, individuals looking for long-term love dated one another—and got engaged—without ever laying eyes on their partners. This time around the dating pool, the arrangement resulted in saline tears, borderline abuse, a blunt discussion about abortion, and a conversation about Cuties so dissected as to be this generation’s Zapruder film. After the series finale aired in November, it seemed everyone in the nation was transfixed, picking sides between warring couples and inserting the newly minted reality television stars into the narratives of our choosing. Is love truly blind? It’s still unclear. Does this TV show serve as the ultimate blank slate on which to project our own issues with romance and partnership? You bet. — Taylor Prewitt

The Mars Volta performing on October 14, 2022.Mat Hayward/Getty

The Mars Volta, The Mars Volta

The Mars Volta has long billed itself as the name of the creative partnership between El Paso natives Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez. For about a decade, until the band’s hiatus in 2012, that partnership sounded like epic, multi-movement jams that could stretch psychedelic freakouts across a single thirty-minute song. When Bixler-Zavala and Rodriguez-Lopez announced the band’s return in the fall, they did so with a single that had a dramatically different sound. Were the Mars Volta a pop band now? The answer, on the band’s first self-titled album, was yes—and that’s a good thing. The Mars Volta featured fourteen tracks spread over 44 minutes, with Bixler-Zavala’s elastic voice in the forefront and Rodriguez-Lopez’s layered guitar experiments adding some extra interest to the catchy melodies. The Mars Volta have been many things since forming in 2003, but “accessible” is a new one—and it’s a good look for a band that had little left to prove. — D.S.

Palomino, Miranda Lambert

Is Miranda Lambert our last great rock star? Her last two solo albums—2019’s Wildcard and this year’s Palomino—make a strong case that the East Texas native might well be. Palomino opens with a slinky bass line, big hooks, and the declaration that Lambert’s got her “own kind of country—kinda funky,” and does she ever. The album pulls a handful of songs off of Lambert’s 2021 release—the pandemic project The Marfa Tapes, a lo-fi collection of songs she recorded in West Texas with Jack Ingram and Jon Randall—recontextualizing tracks such as the “Jolene” send-up “Geraldene” as full-band jams with rollicking guitar solos and a percussive stomp that’s a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll. She leans further into the latter as the album progresses, digging deep into the archives of rock history to collaborate with eighties new wavers the B-52’s (on “Music City Queen”), channeling Fleetwood Mac on “Waxahachie,” and nodding to Prince on the gender-bending “If I Was a Cowboy.” Rock star, country star, or something else entirely, whatever Lambert is, we’re lucky to have her. — D.S.

“The Permian Recordings,” Phil Peters

This site-specific sound and sculptural installation in a post-industrial lot on the east side of Austin was a highlight of November’s Austin Studio Tour and a reminder of what makes the city’s grassroots cultural scene so special—despite what you may have heard about it becoming a bland surf-park town. It’s hard to imagine this smart, immersive, and far-out art-viewing experience anywhere else. Peters collected audio samples of fracking machinery by burying microphones underground in the Permian Basin oil and gas fields of West Texas. Then, to make these low-frequency vibrations audible to the human ear, he built a massive, forty-foot-long subwoofer in an outdoor concrete culvert provided by venerable Austin arts nonprofit Co-Lab Projects. The result is an eerie, pulsating machine you can step inside to feel the inhuman hum of the extraction economy within your body. — Michael Agresta

Renaissance, Beyoncé

Beyoncé’s latest album was such an unexpected delight that, five months after its release, I haven’t been able to stop listening. Renaissance beautifully embraces the history of Black and LGBTQ musicians and icons such as Big Freedia and Beyoncé’s own Uncle Johnny with a long index of iconic samples and featured artists, all while being infectiously joyous and fun. Just one example of the multifaceted energy that Beyoncé brings to Renaissance is “Church Girl,” a bouncy twerk anthem that samples the gospel song “Center of Thy Will” by the Clark Sisters, and still manages to convey a sense a spiritual triumph and salvation. “I been up, I been down / Feel like I move mountains / Got friends that cried fountains,” Beyoncé begins, and despite (or because of) all that strife, she’s “warning everybody, soon as I get in this party / I’m gon’ let go of this body, I’m gonna love on me” because “Nobody can judge me, but me / I was born free.” I love this song, and it’s not even one of my top five most played from the album. At a moment when people are attempting to erase us, Renaissance tells us to celebrate and hold onto our Black and queer history and culture. Make no mistake: times are hard, but with the help of albums like Renaissance, we can still create space to feel cozy in our skin, celebrate what makes us alien, and remember that we were born free. — Doyin Oyeniyi

“Ropa Usada,” Valleyesque, Fernando Flores

In May, Rio Grande Valley–born, Austin-based writer Fernando Flores released the short-story collection Valleyesque, his third book and follow-up to surrealist border noir Tears of the Trufflepig. Flores’s story “Ropa Usada,” available online in full, is a delirious outpost of his jazzy, post-magic-realist style, piling on fantastical details in the service of capturing real, hard-
to-describe feelings, often about life in Texas. Here, a broke grad student named Cassie drives to her hometown to buy used clothing to resell on the internet from a giant warehouse-style store “down by the border in the maquiladora district.” Dream images evoke the vastness of such stores—women pulling sleeves like ripe carrots from undulating hills of clothes; a den made of jerseys of sports teams that no longer exist, like the Houston Oilers; a village in the aisles with meat roasting on a trash-bin fire. Lest you think this will be a goof of a story where the quiet epiphanies of realism are impossible, here’s Cassie when she’s almost buried in a cascade of
used clothes: “It made her sad to think that, in what she felt were her final moments, what tumbled through her mind was all the money she owed: not her mother, her family, the people she loved, or the possessions she held dear, but her crushing debt.” Flores has found a cool sound and knows how to play. — M.A.

The Sea Drift, The Delines

Amy Boone was one of two singing sisters in the Damnations, a beloved Austin alt-country band back when the term “alt-country” was still new. More than twenty years later, her gorgeously lived-in, heart-tugging but understated vocals are at the center of this Portland, Oregon–based band, led by songwriter and novelist Willy Vlautin. Vlautin both writes for Boone and is inspired by their conversations about Texas, life, and music; The Sea Drift is a Gulf Coast soul record, noirish and sultry, with most of its hard-luck songs set around Galveston, and sonic inspiration from the likes of Bobbie Gentry and Tony Joe White. In 2022, The Delines played fifty shows in Europe and four shows in the Pacific Northwest; some festival or venue in Texas needs to fix that in 2023. — J.C.

Installation view of Amoako Boafo: Soul of Black Folks at Contemporary Arts Museum Houston, 2022.Sean Fleming

“Soul of Black Folks,” Amoako Boafo

The writing of W.E.B. Du Bois has inspired a lot of great visual art, books and film. His ideas manifest powerfully in the nuanced portraits of Boafo, a 38-year-old Ghanaian who lives in Vienna. Instantly recognizable for their spare composition and bold colors, and the finger-painted skin and steady gazes of subjects that include major celebrities (think Bey and Jay-Z), Boafo’s works capture the thoughtful complexity of contemporary Black identity. Discovered by Kehinde Wiley on Instagram, Boafo caused a collectors’ frenzy before museum curators could catch up. Contemporary Arts Museum Houston presented Boafo’s first solo museum show last summer, including a site-specific mural—now painted over—that collectors would love to have peeled off the wall. The point was that it couldn’t be sold. — M.G.

Top Gun: Maverick

To borrow what Harry Styles said about a film that wouldn’t make this list even if it had a Texas connection, what I liked about Top Gun: Maverick was that “the movie feels like a movie, like a real, like, you know, ‘go to the theater’ film movie.” I’m not the only one who thinks this, because a lot of folks went to the theater to see Top Gun, which set box office records when it came out in May. It is the platonic ideal of a big-screen movie: expensive, loud, patriotic to the point of being practically propagandistic. It had heart, speed, practical effects, sweaty beach sports, and a handful of mega-charming movie stars, including Austin’s own Glen Powell—plus a near-perfect Lady Gaga song on the soundtrack. — E.M.

Voids, Old Fire

As the father to two young, rambunctious children, and living as I do in Austin, a town bursting at its glass-and-steel seams with residents, I’ve never felt less alone in my life. Yet this year, I still found myself utterly beguiled by Old Fire’s Voids, a record that is consumed by loss, absence, and the kind of cavernous lonesomeness that currently only exists in my romanticized imagination. Composer John Mark Lapham drew upon his own feelings of isolation, which he experienced while growing up gay in the largely conservative town of Abilene, to create a haunted suite of songs that land somewhere at the nexus of spiritual folk, ambient electronic, and Massive Attack–inspired trip-hop. Guest vocalists like Austin’s Bill Callahan and Emily Cross change the colors to suit their respective moods, but there’s a cohesive mood of mourning and rumination that remains broken. It’s an album that feels as expansive and tranquil as the West Texas plains that inspired it, but take it from me: it plays just as well when you’re cooped up in the city, longing for a little space of your own. — S.O.



Roxy Music’s Second ‘Siren’ Call


Roxy Music vintage 1975 signified a more dance-oriented incarnation of the musical sophisticates than that of previous years. But not only did they retain all of their inventiveness and style, but as the year ended they had just enjoyed their highest-ranking UK single to date and their fifth Top 10 album in a row.

The album was Siren, from which that first single was the brilliantly incisive “Love Is The Drug,” a clever envisioning of the soon-to-explode discotheque culture. Written by Bryan Ferry and Andy Mackay, it reached No.2 in the UK, beaten to the top only by David Bowie’s reissue of “Space Oddity,” and helped to fuel a No.4 debut for the album.

Then on December 27, the second and final single from Siren took its chart bow. “Both Ends Burning” is a less celebrated Ferry composition but was cutting-edge in its own way, with synthesizer detail by Eddie Jobson, Mackay’s ever-urgent saxophones and Ferry’s impassioned lead.

The single entered the UK chart at No.40, and although it didn’t become one of Roxy’s bigger hits, went on to spend two weeks at No.25. The B-side was a live version of “For Your Pleasure,” recorded only a few weeks earlier at the group’s Empire Pool, Wembley show.

Siren was the third Roxy Music album in a row to benefit from the bass playing of John Gustafson, a vastly experienced player who had been with such 1960s beat-era groups as the Big Three and the Merseybeats. He also toured extensively with Roxy in the mid-1970s. “I can usually find something in any band that will carry me through musically,” Gustafson later told Mojo, “but Roxy was puzzling initially as nobody seemed to be directing it.

Listen to the best of Roxy Music on Apple Music and Spotify.

“Bryan would have little more than a chord sequence. It was often a complete shambles at first but it would always seem to work. Something would take shape. I would usually stick with the first thing I came up with to anchor it. All Bryan would say was, ‘Make it sound black.’”

Buy the super deluxe edition of the 1972 debut album Roxy Music.

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