More Than Honey

A couple of months ago, while I was taking a break in the usher's room at the Seattle Symphony, a fellow usher burst in, exclaiming, "The bees are dying!"  I'm not sure what inspired this sudden outburst while Mozart was merrily making his way through the speakers from the concert hall, but it sparked in me an interest that has turned into an obsession ever since.

The bees are dying.  In droves.  We know this already, but how many of us take the time to imagine the agricultural impact this may have in 5, 10, 20 years?  Imagination is key here, I think.  How else can we predict what tragedy may occur before it actually does?  (Other than hopping a plane over to China, where it already has).

I first read the book "Fruitless Fall" by Rowan Jacobsen, which turned out to be so intensely depressing that I had to stop half-way through and read straight through the Dalai Lama's "The Art of Happiness" before I could continue.  What really disturbs me about the situation is that it is so symptomatic of how we're messing with nature in general.  Humans blatantly use the natural resources of the highly delicate ecosystems around us in ways that disrupt that balance. And they are willfully ignorant about the effects their everyday lives have which contribute to these problems.

I'm going to avoid commenting too much on the scientific side of this issue, because others have and will, and it's not where I feel my interests and talents are best used.  I'll just talk about the artistic value of this documentary, specifically concerning the sound-track.

This is "More Than Honey", a Swiss film directed by Marcus Imhoof, which examines the complexities of the lives of bees, and the factors contributing to their demise. 

In the style of a Werner Herzog film, there was very little exposition or narration, and instead of any straight-forward storyline, or even detailed scientific analyses, the film seems to dabble in the contrasting lives of three beekeepers, focusing mainly on the detrimental effects of industrialization in the industry.

Although there is a compelling violin melody in the introduction, which reappears from time to time in a very subtle, subdued manner throughout, the overall score was incredibly sparse.  I suppose that since the subject manner is very appealing to me anyway, the lack didn't stand out to me too much; I was already wrapped up in the story.  And to a certain extent, it enhanced the bleakness of the prospect of a world without bees, so for artistic purposes, perhaps it was the most appropriate.

Hypothetically speaking, if I were to score the film, the first thing that comes to mind is a string quartet, especially focusing on the cello timbre.  I also would have used less of a wide-interval based melody, instead going for a concentrated, cell structure, with wind-chimes and wood-based rhythmic instruments, played with soft mallets.  I think that a full orchestra wouldn't work well; chamber is best, with few instruments; but more variety, and more screen time, obviously.  Also, I'd want a transformation from a minor and diminished-based atonal set of themes in the beginning to a major-ish (with lots of perfect 5ths open in harmony), more lush set of themes as the movie moves towards hopeful in the end.  To revisit the cell idea, I guess this means using a cell based primarily on minor 3rds in the beginning, and expanding the same thematic ideas to the major 3rds towards the end.  Furthermore, in order not to downplay the impact of the change from despair to hope, I wouldn't blend them; there would be a long silent section in the final 3rd, and then the major themes would swell in, probably with a louder dynamic, less rhythm and more sustained notes and suspensions.

For future reference, I intend to do more of this sort of review for now, and eventually I'll begin recording my own compositions and posting them here.

Cheers,
-G


http://buy.morethanhoneyfilm.com/

The Esoterics "Sylvana" May 9, '14

I have been meaning to see/listen to the Seattle choral group "The Esoterics" for quite awhile now.  Like Viva Vocalists, I have several friends in the group, (so once again, I must decline complete objectivity, though to do so is completely unnecessary) and I've been hearing good things about them and their music continually.  Why it's taken me so long to go listen to them is a long story.  Suffice to say it mostly involves the long, dark, cold winter nights of Seattle and the fact that I refuse to drive.  The public transportation system here could use an overdrive.  But that is a subject I will tackle later.

So the weather is warmer and lighter, the rhododendrons are blooming as if they're afraid the world has forgotten what the word "color" means, and apparently a sailboat named the "Mata Hari" just decided to sail through my backyard (I love this city and its ubiquitous water.  But I digress yet again).  I figured it was about time to go see this mysterious rumored group that sings strange, contemporary music.

They chose to sing at St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Laurelhurst, a lovely, very traditional building with clear, if somewhat closed in, acoustics.  By some lucky stroke of fate, the left-over Easter decorations consisted of tall trees decorated with colorful birds, quite appropriate for the theme "Sylvana". 

The director, Eric Banks, is a well-respected composer, and began the group in 1992.  The Esoterics are completely a cappella, and are dedicated to singing contemporary chamber choral music in order to bring attention to and perpetuate new compositions.  In addition, the group is known for its top-notch quality and dedication from the members.  So, all in all, I was a bit stunned that the audience was as small as it was.  By no means empty, still the hall could have used a bit more filling out.  Whether this lack of support is due to the drooping popularity for its atonal repertoire, or simply because the group hasn't acquired the attention it deserves yet, I'm not sure.  But I feel like the extra space was wasted--not that the group should seek a smaller venue, but that more people should come listen to them sing.

The quality of the singing itself was something that I was actually unprepared for.  It sounded like a group of true professionals.  Their diction was crisp, tones pitch-perfect, attention fixated on their animated and brilliantly fun conductor (Banks).  I was especially impressed by soloist Josh Thorsen, whose voice is uniquely colored with a tint of rust, profound, commanding, shaped more like an apple than a true sphere.  Even more impressed was I to learn that he is merely 21 years old.  I'm not sure where his voice will take him, but I'm hoping to see opportunities opening for him in the future.

As for the pieces themselves, I found myself fascinated by the difference between hearing contemporary music live versus on a recording, and furthermore that of instruments versus voices.  I think that the homogeneity and focus of the chorus lends to a distinct acoustical clarity which allows the tones and rhythmic patterns of contemporary music, which I often find so jarring in an orchestra, to resonate and congeal.  Perhaps this is due to the physicality of the voice; not produced from strange contraptions of wood and metal, but within the body itself; perhaps the vibrations draw the voices into better pitch, more in alignment with the natural harmonic series, as the possibility of manipulating the tones is far more easy with a well-trained voice, and the ability to instinctively sense these resonations increases due to the direct physical absorption.  This is all speculation, of course.

But yes, as for the pieces themselves.  There were six pieces, most of which were sets, and I can say honestly that I enjoyed them all, and that it would be hard to pick favorites.  The third part of "Trees" by Lars Johan Werle, for starters, was a fun, springing sort of sound; "Woodpecker" from "Due North" by Stephen Chatman, drew my attention to many possibilities of using rhythm advantageously, and furthermore, I was impressed by the skill with which Banks balanced the volume of the various "knocking" groups.

Speaking of Eric Banks, I loved his set of haiku by Buson, "Twelve Flowers", which honestly felt as if it had been written just for me.  I have a pretty good grasp of the Japanese language, though I would not consider myself to be fluent, so I loved hearing so many familiar words and phrases, their nuances untranslatable. The haiku is a form that I have been trying to tackle in my own compositions since college, and I think that it's a good method to group several into a series of poems that evolve through seasons.

I'm also glad that this was the first time I have heard Ravel's "Three Songs"; it's a fun, fast piece that deserves a listening-to.  But, as I am discovering more and more, listening live is the way to go.  Recordings will never replace the quality of a live performance.  They are, at best, a cheap and convenient substitute, capable of being repeated over and over until the original impact of hearing the piece falls apart into predictability.  And as the performing arts community loses more and more financial support to the growing industry of its own shadow, will the quality decrease or increase?

If The Esoterics are any example, though, I have hope that musicians will become paradoxically more serious about creating beauty, even as their art grows farther and farther away from profitability.

Go see them.  Seriously.  It's, like, totally worth it.

http://www.theesoterics.org/

Cheers,
-G