The overview of the Orchestra-Tech conference appearing in the print version of NMC was written in retrospect and with post-event comments included, comments which Mr. Kra could not have had at his disposal when he wrote the following review. We publish it complete here in order to credit Mr. Kra properly with his views on the event. For the overview, you may subscribe using this link.
NATIONAL CONFERENCE ON TECHNOLOGY AND THE ORCHESTRA October 10-14, 2001, New York City.
I confess that I do harbor within my imagination a utopian vision of what the Western Classical Music tradition could be. It is for this reason that I was excited by the news that the American Composer's Orchestra along with the American Music Center, American Symphony Orchestra League, Carnegie Hall, Columbia University, MIT Media Lab, New York University, Meet the composer, and other supporters were sponsoring a national conference on technology and the orchestra in New York City to take place October 10-14, 2001. The conference consisted of five concerts, each at a different venue: Miller Theatre, Merkin Hall, Cooper Union, The Knitting Factory, and culminating on October 14, at Carnegie Hall, as well as, three days of symposia. I wanted to know if my utopian vision was being shared by others, and if so, to see how far the field of Western Classical music has been progressing in this direction.
My utopian vision consists of a future in which new kinds of concert halls will be built in cities all over the world, that are specially designed to accommodate the needs of new music performance. The vast majority of halls currently in existence are designed for the paradigm developed in the 19th Century, to house the large orchestras of the Romantic Period. Bringing in electronics and other elements very often create a logistic nightmare that can be technically and financially prohibitive.
During the Friday afternoon symposium, these issues were discussed by a panel that consisted of conductor Paul Lustig Dunkel, composer Tod Machover, and as several other composers. Mr. Machover discussed the issue of the acoustical difficulties one can face. Some halls that are very alive acoustically in order to resonate for acoustic instruments may be too alive for the electronics, while a hall built for the use of electronics may be too dry acoustically for acoustic instruments. He mentioned the two "black box" concert halls, one at IRCAM and one at MIT. These halls were designed to be easily altered for multi-purpose use. Machover stated that these two halls were unsuccessful because they seemed to handle neither option well, and they are currently not being employed very much.
Since a wide open acoustic hall would be preferable for an orchestra and the lowering of the ceiling may be better for electronics, Machover spoke about the future potential architectural solutions, in which very fluid structures will be built, within which walls can be moved around, inflated and deflated.
One feature that new concert halls should contain is the ability to effectively spatialize the sound. There is no question that the ability to move sound around the space is a huge enhancement to the concert experience. Throughout the conference, the issue of spatialization was addressed. Several of the works at the concerts made extremely effective use of speaker placement around the space and thus dramatically moved the sound. Most notable among these works was Roger Reynold's "Ariadne's Thread", for string quartet and tape, performed at the cavernous Great Hall at Cooper Union by the Ethel String Quartet.
This highly dramatic piece, written in 1994, employed tape sounds that were derived from the Arditti String Quartet. The samples were processed using software developed by Iannis Xenakis, which includes a feature that transforms graphics into sound. The processed sound consisted of glissandi that had a metallic lustre and effects that sounded like broken glass among a large variety of ghostly sounds derived from harmonics. The tape and live quartet sound, synchronized by a click track, was moved around the space amongst four speakers and at times created an effect that was both exhilarating and somewhat chillingly apocalyptic. The apocalyptic quality was enhanced by the fact that the concert had been interrupted earlier by a false fire alarm, which required the temporary evacuation of the hall.
Amongst the many other pieces that employed spatialization techniques, I was particularly impressed by Edmund J. Campion's piece, "What Goes Up . . . " (1993), performed at the Miller Theatre by an ensemble of eleven amplified instrumentalists from the American Composer's Orchestra. The ensemble was broken up in five spatially separated instrumental pairs framing a lone cellist. Two double basses were on either side of the stage, as the sound panned back and forth across the stage. The work maintained a great deal of coherence despite a diversity of stylistic gestures, modernist and minimalist, because the cellist in the center acted as a mediating factor. Also, the form of the piece was an easily perceived palindrome.
In my utopian vision, the concert halls of the future would be equipped to handle all manner of electronic additions to the orchestra, both in terms of tape sound added to the live instruments, as well as live electronic processes triggered by the acoustic instruments. The Sunday night concert at Carnegie Hall featured works that displayed some of the most advanced techniques in these areas.
Tristan Murail's "Le Partage des Eaux." (1996), employed tape parts that were triggered by a keyboard player. This extraordinary work employs as its source material, the spectral analysis of waves breaking against the shore. Murail made decisions as to which partials to use and which to eliminate. He then orchestrated the partials that would lend themselves best to be played by the live orchestra and filled in the rest of the microtonal texture with computer-generated sound which melded seamlessly with the orchestral texture. The computer-generated sounds employed spectral models derived from the acoustic instruments. In terms of overall sound, this is a landmark work. The style is rather obviously neo-impressionistic and Murail's French precursors, Debussy and Ravel, were always brought to mind. It is possible to fault the work for its lack of a clear dramatic structure, but the beauty and novelty of the sonic palette are enough to compensate for this fault.
The use of live electronics created an extraordinary effect in Tod Machover's "Sparkler," written in 2001. This piece, which is the opening section of the "Toy Symphony," employed coherent melodic lines joined with sparse quotes from well-known classical and popular tunes, moved briskly forward until the large central section. At this point, a computer algorithm recognizes various instrumental parameters, from instrumental combinations cued by the conductor, and generates large masses of hybrid sounds. These are live electronic processes that create a "hyper-orchestra." The result were huge "blobs of sound," as described by the composer, and that effect made the work interesting, though the earlier handling of the melodic materials was fairly standard.
Morton Subotnick's "Before the Butterfly," originally composed in 1974-75, sought a completely different use of live electronics. Subotnick's concern is one of orchestral balance and the creation of hybrid orchestral timbres. He describes his approach in the following manner: "There are six solo instrumentalists, violin, viola, cello, harp, trumpet and trombone, along with further percussion instruments, suspended coil spring, suspended cymbal, medium gong and high bongo drum, all of which are played into microphones. Each solo instrument is linked to an amplified violin, and the solo instrument amplifiers are routed to a frequency shifting device which alters the amplified signal by shifting the pitch down one quarter-tone."
The piece is essentially an example of the kind of the "texture music" that was being written in the 1960's and 70's. The intended effect was clearly audible, but as a musical experience, it did not surpass works by Ligeti and Cerha which employed far less or no technology.
Also of note is Joshua Fineberg's "Empreintes", performed at Merkin Hall on Thursday night by Speculum Musicae. This work utilized a computer algorithm created by German psycho-acoustician Ernst Terhardt. The algorithm allows the computer to recognize the sound played by the chamber ensemble and to select significant sonic features and generate a halo-like effect, which melds and dissolves the instrumental timbres as it travels around. The quieter parts of the piece, when the halo effect was most audible, created an exotic, other-worldly feeling. Other sections of the piece contained loud brass statements, which obscured the felicitous halo effect, which fortunately, once again, became audible at the end of the piece, with the return to the quieter dynamic levels.
From my point of view, the most exciting news about technological advance was that the continuing problem of synchronizing already existing electronic sound with live instruments without having to resort to a nonmusical click-track, has been solved. During the Saturday afternoon symposium, computer music pioneer, David Wessel, described the performance by the Berkley Symphony Orchestra of a work by Ronald Bruce Smith. The electronic sound was triggered by a keyboard player who kept in sync with the conductor by tapping her foot on a pedal to the conductor's beat. This procedure altered the speed of the prerecorded material and made the necessary pitch adjustments to accommodate the changes of speed by way of a computer algorithm, which did the necessary computation in real time. This sounds like the most effective solution to the synchronization problem yet devised.
The question of standardization was addressed at several points during the symposia. If technology, which will be soon obsolete, is employed for the premiere of a work, which is then never performed again, the possibility of really building a new repertory is severely limited. It is essential that the new concert halls of the future adopt standardized technology all over the world. Composer Rand Steiger suggested that standards are slowly emerging with the use of the program "MAX". Greg Sandow, critic and composer, offered the analogy to the computer field where platforms become very widely employed. He asked: "What would it take for orchestras to adopt a standard platform?" The answer to this question was on the tip of the tongue of at least several who were present, but not articulated, as moderator Robert Beaser, diplomatically ended the symposium. The answer is, of course, that there has to be a repertory of works that is sufficiently of interest to the broader public, and not only to specialists in the field. This repertory does not yet exist.
My utopian vision also includes instruments which are capable of being extended by computer interaction, and also instruments that are extensions of the older paradigms.
During the Wednesday night concert at the Miller Theatre, David Felder's piece "In Between" (1999-2000), for solo percussionist playing a battery of instruments including the five octave marimba and KAT MIDI controller, and large chamber ensemble, featured a virtuoso performance by Steven Schick. The KAT extended the range and timbre to such an extent that Mr. Schick sounded like a full percussion section at times; the percussive sounds sometimes melted and became more legato and non-percussive during contrasting sections.
Mari Kimura's virtuoso performance for violin and interactive computer on Saturday night at the Knitting Factory, constantly surprised this listener with unexpected effects that cascaded every time the triggering notes were played.
In addition to the purely musical, the idealized concert halls of the future should also be equipped for displays of visual imagery, possibly even holographic effects. The technology has not sufficiently advanced to that point yet, but Golan Levin's real time video compositions, performed at the Knitting factory, in which the video images activated synched sound, points in this direction. He worked with video images that consisted of an array of abstract designs, sometimes fractal-like in complexity, and his approach is one of real time improvisation.
Bill Viola's video accompaniment to Edgar Varese's "Deserts" shown on the back wall of the stage of Carnegie Hall provided an odd juxtaposition of the old with the aspiration for the future developments in performance spaces. It was Varese's intention to have visual imagery accompanying the work, and he was unable to realize this in his lifetime. As effective and well executed as the video was, Carnegie Hall was not the best space for its performance.
It is to be expected that my utopian vision would include an environment in which orchestras would not only have the equipment for incorporating the technological advances that are now being made, but also a willingness to employ them. Orchestras must also have the freedom to offer new works the rehearsal time necessary to render them to their best advantage. In a panel discussion consisting of orchestra administrators, which included Joseph Kluger of the Philadelphia Orchestra and Paul Meecham of the New York Philharmonic, there was an overall statement of willingness to embrace new technologies. Surprisingly, they said that the orchestras are rarely asked by composers to employ any. As far as rehearsal time is concerned, comments were made about the difficulty of dealing with unions. Nonetheless, Mr. Meecham stated that the New York Philharmonic could conceivably allow eight rehearsals for a new work, provided they weren't held during the regular season.
The Saturday morning symposium was devoted to the issues of publishing and dissemination of recordings and scores. My utopian vision of the "celestial jukebox," where every recording is available on the Internet, and every score as well, needs to be balanced against the need for copyright protection. If creative artists cannot derive income from intellectual property, then they will not be free to create. These issues were discussed by publishers and attorneys, including Corey Fields and Drew Sanders. At this time, the solution to the problem has not yet been found, and the improvement of technology only complicates the matter even more, because exact copying and dissemination become easier and therefore harder to control. I was gratified to learn throughout the week that my utopian vision for the future of Western music was indeed being shared by others. I noted that progress was being made in some areas, slower progress in other areas, but progress nonetheless. However, several issues were not discussed.
First, there was no discussion of musical aesthetics. It seems that the discussion of aesthetics is taboo in modern music. This is unusual when compared to other periods in musical history. J. S. Bach would often preface a work with the statement that the work was to offer a model for composition and to teach "good taste." This lack of discussion might have something to do with the fact that of the two dozen or so composers at the conference, I believe none of them makes a living through their music; they generally hold teaching positions. In other words, these composers are not held accountable for the music they write. They are experimental composers for whom making a relationship with the audience is not a concern. It was common to hear music that rambled on too long, or was stylistically inconsistent, or that was lacking in dramatic structure.
Second, with the exception of a brief statement by Tod Machover, there was no philosophical discourse querying the meaning of this activity. What should the relationship between the composer and the society be? What is the meaning and significance of the Western Musical Tradition at this time, and are things as they should be?
Finally, there was no statement concerning the building of careers. There appears to be no career path for a composer of new music in America. The marketing of new music is considered to be as promising a prospect as trying to market hair straightener in Japan. There is no publicity or "star-making machinery." For this reason, the public interest is generally so small, that the whole enterprise of new music is utterly marginalized and is essentially an academic pursuit.
The Western Classical Music tradition, it is alleged, is in trouble, that the audiences are aging and shrinking. The embracing of new technologies, coupled with aesthetic concerns and philosophical inquiry, clearly is the path to renewal. Perhaps this period will be seen as a gestation period, as the Western musical tradition prepares for a rebirth that will give it a central place in this society. It will then have far greater significance and larger audiences than ever before in history.