Richard Barrett/Elision Ensemble
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Ne songe plus à fuir (1985-6) 11:13 -
violoncello solo
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EARTH (1987-8) 12:03 -
trombone and percussion
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Another heavenly day (1989-90) 7:33 -
E flat clarinet, electric guitar, contrabass
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negatives (1988-92) 34:35 -
flute/picc/alto/recorder, trombone, 10-string guitar/12-string guitar,
mandolin/sitar, percussion/anklung,
violin, viola, violoncello, contrabass
Extract from the Cover Notes
For many post-war composers, the cello has become an emblem of suffering
humanity: Bernd Alois Zimmermann's Canto di speranza,
Isang Yun's Cello Concerto, documenting his experiences as
a political prisoner in Korea, and Brian Ferneyhough's Time and Motion
Study II--originally called "Electric Chair Music"--are some of the
best-known examples. Richard Barrett's Ne songe plus à fuir
("Dream no more, of fleeing") sits squarely in this disturbing tradition.
The title refers to a painting by the Chilean surrealist Roberto Matta
which seems, in the composer's words "to depict a dark, troubled atmosphere
within which anthropomorphic figures are immersed in attitudes of desperation,
imprisonment (and) oppression, surely influenced by the often brutal recent
history of the artist's home country".
Barrett regards Ne songe plus à fuir for solo cello as his
first solo piece; up to that point his work had been almost exclusively for
chamber ensembles. With radical pragmatism, Barrett decided to strip the cello
of all its "tradition", and treat it simply as four strings with a resonating
body, and a certain physical disposition in relation to the player. In short,
an "anatomy lesson" appropriate to the harrowing subject matter.
EARTH forms part of a cycle of eleven pieces entitles Fictions;
the cycle's name alludes to the creative process, which in Barrett's words
"proceeds from fictions which are necessary for the personality of the composer
to believe, to make acts of faith to carry the work through".
The combination of trombone and percussion was chosen on a typically fatalistic
basis: as a means of presenting "possible relationships between instruments
incommensuate in timbre, technique and/or register, by forcing them together
into ensemble rhythms". The outcome is an artistically regulated "catastrophe"
whose basic strategy "collapses into alienation . . . a music hovering
on the brink of irreversible incoherence or extinction".
However, Barrett's description scarcely prepares one for the furious vibrancy
of the actual music. For the title EARTH refers not to the elemental,
quasi-tribal dance of death which this music enacts, but also, more
specifically, to the composer's attempts "to get towards a kind of folk music,
though not one tied down to any particular place in the world. So it's as if
there were some kind of Fourth World with its own folk music. And this is it".
Another heavenly day is the seventh part of the
Fictions
series. It takes its title (scarcely to be taken at face value!) from the
opening line of Samuel Beckett's play Happy Days, where Winnie, the
only speaking character, is buried up to her waist in sand, emitting endless
platitudes as her situation gets worse and worse. Barrett's piece is neither
endless nor platitudinous, but like Beckett's play it is a study in progressive
alienation: the three instruments' parts each consist of 8 sub-pieces, which
rise in register, and get out of synchronism with those of the other players.
At the end, each instrument is trapped in its top register, screeching in
isolation. Another heavenly day is the first of several works Barrett
has written for the ELISION ensemble.
negatives consists of five pieces (which partly overlap when all
five are performed) for an ensemble of nine players, many of whom also feature
as soloist in one of the pieces. The title could easily be taken as embodying
the pessimistic stance of Barrett's earlier works, but in fact that's not the
intention (with the exception of the final piece, entstellt).
A more
appropriate image would be that of photographic negatives, in the sense that
each piece is in some sense a conceptual inversion of the one that preceded
it (for instance, each piece involves a re-juggling of its predecessor's formal
proportions).
However, the primary image for the cycle is that of voyages over landscapes---
landscapes in which geological features predominate, though not to the
exclusion of flora, fauna, or civilisation.
delta emblematically starts ex nihilo with a fragmentary,
one-note opening which splits up into tributaries: the sitar and anklung are
used not to evoke exotic deltaic regions, but to effect an immediate removal
from "normal" new music instrumentations. In colloid-E (the E sufix
denotes the ensemble version of a piece which can also be performed as a solo)
the solo 10-string guitar presents a sort of viscous, part granular fluid,
scanned at the highest possible magnification, as if through an acoustic
microscope, while in archipelago the solo mandolin is a traveller
drifting past seemingly randomly disposed ensemble "islands".
After the elegance of archipelago, basalt-E, whose
solo trombone part is a drastic extension of the independence of mouth and slide
introduced at the end of EARTH, adopts a deliberately rough-hewn,
"earthy" approach. Finally, enstellt is partly conceived as a
traveller's return to the point of departure, only to find that it has become a
ruin (and indeed, the piece incorporates elements from a so-far incomplete
piece called ruin). In each of enstellt nine
sections---separated by 15-second pauses---there is a gradual erasure of
pitch content---a sort of excavation to uncover part of delta's
framework: one by one,
the instrument[alist]s pick up unpitched percussion instruments, until only the
piccolo and cello are left, defiant, but deserted and disorientated.
---Richard Toop © 1993
Composer's Note
Is it relevant to speak of influences?
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playing, the personalities, the instruments of ELISION, without which this
work would have been unimaginable; as well as Magnus Anderson, Barrie Webb,
Frances-Marie Uitti and others that I have been priveleged to work with, and
player/composers whose work recreates their instruments: George Lewis, Ray
Anderson, Paul Rutherford, Barry Guy . . .
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the poetry of Paul Celan: compressed, resonant, poised at the threshold of
the inexpressible (atrocity) . . . and Par Lagervist and Pierre Reverdy and of
course Samuel Beckett
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the Noh Theatre: structure, interactions, simultaneities
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the music of Francois Bayle, to whom the entire cycle is dedicated as a
60th birthday tribute---and standing behind him, Pierre Schaeffer, Bernard
Parmegiani, Francis Dhomont, les objets sonores, the forms and spaces
of musique concrete and their antecedants in French surrealism
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physical and geographical phenomena, perspectives between aerial and
microscopic views, dreamt and remembered journeys (the islands of Hong Kong,
the forest and waterfall near Bowral, NSW, the remains of Thebes, Karnak,
Saqqara, the gutted centre of Dresden beginning its metamorphosis into a
new, government-approved kind of ruin, flights over the Swiss Alps, the
Australian and African deserts) . . .
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Mahler's Abschied, from Das Lied von der Erde,
some sense of irretrievable loss . . .
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"All that goes before forget." (Beckett, Enough)
Five parts (dictionary definitions, thumbnail sketches):
- delta
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[n. 1. the flat alluvial area at the mouth of some rivers where the
mainstream splits up into several distributaries]
. . . from cataract to ocean/ an opening-up of spaces/ articulated by the
textures of the angklung: to Peter Neville
- colloid
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[n. 1. a mixture having particles of one component suspended in a
continuous phase of another component. The mixture has properties between
those of a solution and a suspension].
. . . the 10-string guitar as an instrument of fluidity/micro- and
macro-turbulence/dissolving and precipitation: to Magnus Andersson
- archipelago
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[n. 1. a group of islands. 2. a sea studded with islands]
. . . sound-objects in a sea of silence/extravagant
instrumentations/mandolin-pointillism: to Stephen Morey
- basalt
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[n. 1. a dark basic igneous rock: the most common volcanic rock]
. . . peroration/stratification/eruption/trombone monologue: to Liza Lim
- entstellt
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[a. disfigured, dis-/con-torted, misrepresented]
. . . return to a ruin of the point of departure/lament of piccolo and 'cello,
chorus of dislocated instruments, shattered landscapes of percussion: to
Daryl Buckley
Conceived 1988-91, completed early 1993.
To Francois Bayle on the occasion of his 60th birthday
---Richard BARRETT (1993)
Critical Acclaim
"But it is the disc of the Welsh composer Richard Barrett's
music
which so astonishes me. This is visceral stuff in the extreme, not music one
would want--or be able--to listen to every day of the week, but important,
original, personal, harrowing work, which simply demands a response. You may
hate this music very much--as, indeed, I sometimes do but you could never
ignore it.The performances are miraculous in their commitment: you picture
the studio floor awash with sweat and blood at the end of the sessions; you
imagine percussionist Peter Neville being led away to a month-long silent
retreat after his performance of EARTH, even as trombonist
Brett Kelly is
booked in for facial reconstruction; you wonder what kinds of drugs Daryl
Buckley had to take in order to grow the extra arm necessary to play
colloid
from the
negatives series. The sound recording is superbly,
brutally realistic throughout.
This is music which appears to have been dug up rather than composed, and
everybody who professes an interest in contemporary arts must hear it. But
be warned: there is nothing nice about this disc.
--Andrew FORD, 24 HOURS, March 1994
L'interprétation, grandiose, est indissociable du processus
creátif tant il apparaît que les exécutants ont travaille
de prés avec le compositeur leurs moindres inflexions. Sans doute,
l'un des disques de musique contemporaine pour l'île déserte.
---Pascal Brissaud, Repertoire, December 1993
EARTH for trombone and percussion
reflects Barrett's solidarity with another master of transgression whose
music has been all too accountably neglected in this country: Hans Joachim
Hespos.
EARTH's . . . expressive strategy is one of conflict "between
instruments
incommensurate in timbre, technique and register, but forcing them into
ensemble rhythms" (Barrett's note). In fact, thanks to the choice of beaters
and a subtle use of mixing, prolonged resonance and overtone shimmer are
held down to bolster the effect of a `falling out´ between the two strands
of sound. When towards the end the `poor´ trombone seems battered by the
`wretched´ bells (for there is more than a suggestion of
arte povera here). It is in part because their `muzzles´ have
been taken off: they are allowed, for the first time, to vibrate freely. The
trombone material is impressive in its grotesquerie, even if intermittently
dominated by that stumbling up and down of glissando iambs, with their
suggestion of anxious breathing, which saturate whole stretches of
Ne songe plus a fuir as well.
In any case EARTH is full of humour, in spite of its evident
pathos, infectiously black, and utterly typical of its composer.
. . . negatives is the great event of this CD . . .
To detail the proliferation
of textures would be like trying to describe how the paint lies on a Rothko
or De Stael. It takes many listenings to be able to hear it all---or rather to
know what else is going on in addition to what one is focusing on at any
one moment.
. . . The titles of the individual pieces follow a typically surrealist
strategy, alluding to natural or `scientific´ phenomena rather than the
realm of culture, to build a new vision of the world set free from
traditional values.
. . . delta has the fullest textures of any of
the movements, a
mass of writhing polyphony that emerges from obsessively static percussion
(Barrett quotes, as playing instructions, an aphorism of Cioran: "I have no
ideas only obsessions", and encloses the whole with Celan fragments about night
and silence) and finally stumbles upon a kind of rhythmic unison near the
end, which falls away in an unusually delicate pizzicato.
colloid-E is . . . flanked by lines from Per Lagerkvist's
Aftonland about the threatening flatness and stillness of sea
and strand before the poet's gaze.
The piece is dominated by flute(s) and 10 string guitar writing, at times
astonishingly diaphanous . . .
Even the percussion here clings to the melodic
lines, drawing them out in eerie arboresence.
archipelago with its two especially desolate Celan fragments,
further
thins the stream to help the solo mandolin be heard---a mandolin dreaming of
banjos and steel guitars rather than the stylized Commedia dell'arte of the
Schoenberg Serenade. In basalt-e it is back to
EARTH with the trombonist
once more singing on one stave and puffing on the other, with lots of
`Barrett Seufzer´ on both, while the strings play at incompatibility; though
this time the effect is made poignant by the shared figuration.
enstellt, the last piece of negatives, is an attempt
to solve the problem of the finale in a large scale work; not at all an
epilogue or a postlude.
To understand the Barrett's strategy it is helpful to look at the
quotations . . . On the title page stands this passage from
Rien by Pierre Reverdy:
Le monde s'efface
au point ou je disparaitrai
tout s'est eteint
Il n'y a meme plus de place
pour les mots que je laisserai
(The world fades away
to the point where I shall disappear
all is snuffed out
There isn't even room now
for the words I leave behind me)
And in a blank before the double bar this fragment of Paul Celan:
du
du lehrst
lehrst deine Hande
du lehrst deine Hande du lehrst
du lehrst deine Hande
schlafen
(you
you teach
you teach your hands
you teach your hands you teach
you teach your hands
to sleep)
The result is a music in constant deconstruction, were it not for drifts of
silence that rub out the sounds as the wind wears away a stone inscription.
There are 15 such hiatuses in this chronicle of dissolution. Each time the
music resumes one has the uncanny feeling that something has indeed been
going on, unreported in the interval.
Only Mattias Spahlinger in his recent works has brought off a dramatization
of silence as effective as this. Thus Enstellt (= racked out of
shape, skewed, as well as defaced, disfigured) is not so much a psychological
description as a material one. As the music heads towards the point of no
return the textures themselves are marred by the ravages of untuned
percussion instruments which one by one the players take up, til the end we
are left only with the piccolo and cello grinding out a musical equivalent
of Jean Dubuffet's sophisticated version of art brut
(miles away from the Boulezian elegance of colloid-e)---a penny
whistle and a hurdy-gurdy in Bedlam: while the other inmates gaze dully on,
having exhausted themselves with beating and shaking whatever lay to hand.
--Robin FREEMAN,
extracted from TEMPO September 1994
Performers and Production
Paula RAE flute(s),
Jane ROBERTSON E flat clarinet,
Brett KELLY trombone,
Detlef TEWES mandolin,
Stephen MOREY mandolin and sitar,
Daryl BUCKLEY electric, 10 and 12-string guitars,
Peter NEVILLE anklung and percussion,
Susan PIEROTTI violin and bowed 10-string guitar,
Jennifer CURL viola,
Friedrich GAUWERKY violoncello,
Kees BOERSMA contrabass,
Joan WRIGHT contrabass
Sandro GORLI conductor
Riccardo FORMOSA and Richard BARRETT producers,
Jim ATKINS engineer,
Michael COSTA additional engineering,
Stephen SNELLEMAN ELISION/ABC recording projects coordinator,
United Music Publishers Ltd., London publisher,
Richard TOOP cover notes,
Crow cover artwork.
Recorded March 1992 to May 1993, Allan Eatons Studios, Melbourne.
Released by ETCETERA RECORDS, Amsterdam, 1993.
KTC1167.
Total timing 66:04 (DDD).
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