More about Jessika Kenney

Greetings!

In my last post, I provided a brief introduction to the delightful voice that is Jessika Kenney.  As I mentioned, I had the opportunity to meet her, albeit briefly, after the concert, and she invited me to visit her website and begin a "dialogue" with her.

I was most of all interested in her musical background and influences in her education.  These details are fairly straightforwardly presented in her bio, but she was happy to give me more information as well.  Kenney studied voice at the Cornish College of the Arts, where her interest in Persian and East Asian music was augmented by exposure to vocalists Diamanda Galas and Jay Clayton.  When asked about what in her musical education really stood out to her and shaped her course as a musician, she answered,

"One of the best things that happened in my early years at Cornish was meeting Jarrad Powell, composer and director of Gamelan Pacifica. The discussion on improvisation, vocal technique, and on the sung text really opened up for me after that."

Concerning her love for these ethnic styles, she says she spent time in Central Java, performing alongside distinguished artists of traditional shadow puppet shows.  Her compositions often incorporate elements of these styles in addition to her own unique experimentation, utilizing fluid and multi-faceted techniques which, although audible to the Western ear, are sometimes intangible.  About what stands out to her about music from these countries, she said,

"Javanese and Persian vocal traditions both have incredibly subtle elements, and are genuinely refined traditions which encourage the development of fine sensitivities. Without a context to recognize that a certain level of perception is real, valuable, and can be used for communication, those perceptions have the danger of turning in on themselves and becoming an obstacle. That tension, between acknowledgement/development of the subtle ear, and the reality of shifting contexts, really motivates my work." 

I then asked her about her collaboration with the Trimpin work that was debuted at the Symphony last weekend: Above, Below and In Between, where the singer has a central role in shaping several of the movements and seemed like an improvised endeavor to some audience members.  She says that

"It was a true collaboration, where first I came into Trimpin's studio, improvised with his mechanized piano. Later he wrote a graphic notation for the vocal and sang his own concept of what it would sound like for me. It happened within a few meetings but felt like a really interesting conversational process."

and furthermore, considering the 'improvisatory' quality,

"The graphic notation could have been interpreted in so many ways, but I tried to keep my sounds close to the relationship between Trimpin's visual aesthetic in the notation and his own vocalizations, which were such a delight."

To add to her knowledge and creativity, Kenney is studying Persian language and literature at UW, as well as radif, a collection of ancient Persian melodies organized in different tonal spaces.  

The breadth of her explorations and depth of her focused studies is astonishing: for example, her work "Anchor Zero" centers layers of harmonic color around a steady tone and plays with breath, pulse and 'emptying out'.  This intense pursuit of musical mastery has won her the 2014 Artist Trust James W Ray Distinguished Artist Award and the 2013 Stranger Genius Award in Music, alongside her husband, composer/violist Eyvind Kang.

There is far more than meets the eye or ear to this lovely singer, and I'm looking forward to hearing more of her future performances in person.  

Cheers!

[untitled] 3: May 1, 2015

Last Friday, as I entered Benaroya Hall for the show that night, the ushers said something I'd never heard them say before:

"Sure, go ahead and bring drinks into the auditorium.  Also, you can sit up on the stage if you get there early enough."

Well, I didn't take advantage of the new drink policy, feeling like it's absolute sacrilege no matter what anyone says, but I did head right for the stage and found myself engaged in a lovely conversation with two ladies soon after about modern music and who it was that invented twelve-tone.

This was only the start of an unprecedented program that symbolized, to me, the imminent changes that the Seattle Symphony Orchestra is implementing in its three-year innovative strategic plan.

Nowhere is the 'future' more evident than in its dynamic conductor, Ludovic Morlot.  In his introduction to the night's music, he told us that the [untitled] series, which encompasses quite a lot of modern music and only plays at 10:00 on Friday evenings, is his 'niche'.  It's an opportunity for him to introduce his devoted audience to the pieces that he loves, but doesn't really have the chance to present in the regular season programs.

His programming choices have been selling out houses; his collaborative interpretations with the orchestra leave his audience members stunned and rising in ovations afterwards.  Friday was no exception; by including a renowned pianist (Michael Brown) and introducing the Symphony's resident composer's newest site-specific work (Above, Below and In Between by Trimpin) with the intense vocals of Jessika Kenney, the house was completely sold out an hour before it started.

So first on the menu was a set of works by the late George Perle, all for ensemble, none (except the first, for string quartet) for conventional ensemble.  The second work, Critical Moments (No. 1), includes flue, clarinet, violin, cello, piano and percussion, utilizing a huge variety of effects for the strings, and a demanding entourage of instruments for the sole percussionist.  The third, Serenade 3, is a masked miniature piano concerto, with brass, strings, woodwinds and percussion in a five-part whirlwind.

My impression of Perle's work is complicated to express, because part-way through the first half of the concert, I realized what I now consider to be the purpose of modern music: not to internalize it and be able to sing it after, or even understand it; it's all about becoming immersed in the sensation of the moment, letting go of the tight grip on harmony, rhythm and form that drives most of the standard repertoire of classical music, and instead just giving into that very moment.  I think this is particularly true of the abstract variety of 20th century music, and for ensemble pieces, which allow room for voices to stand out and encourage the disparity of meaning.

In fact, the most accurate word I can think of to describe Above, Below and In Between is...immersive.  As we exited the hall into the grand lobby, we found that it had been transformed into the interactive experience hinted at by the piece's title.  The half-moon balcony was lit by masses of color; and music stands waited for the instrumentalists to join.  Hanging from the balcony was a series of large cylinders and pyramid-like blocks.  On ground level, which was covered with colorful mats for audience members to sit upon, an open grand piano was center stage, with a curious mechanical ensemble inside set to pluck and bang the strings across the soundboard, and play the keys themselves under the closed cover.

Morlot hastened to assure us that the black box with glaring red numbers inside the piano was 'not a time bomb'.  I assure you that's exactly what it looked like.


Above, Below and In Between is comprised of six movements, each showcasing the Frankenstein piano and introducing vocals and other instruments as well.  Not only did Morlot conduct the musicians, he conducted the piano as well; preset to play a certain work of music, he manually controlled the tempo and dynamics with his hands in thin air, like a theremin.  In essence, what Trimpin constructed is a method of controlling the interpretation of a mechanical work.

The first two movements consisted entirely of the piano; the third introduced Kenney, with her rich vocals that encompassed pure vowels moving through various diphthongs, bird-like gurgles and chatter, and mad-man cackles of laughter and enraged ejaculations.  In fact, her singing was possessed, and with her curly brown hair flying as she moved through the audience, one wondered if she was sane.  (I met her afterwards briefly, and found that her personality is very sweet, almost shy, her doe-like brown eyes deep and gentle).
For examples of her work, visit her website here.

The next movement consisted of the chimes ringing around the room, suspended and unstruck by visible hands; the fifth movement finally introduced the ensemble of instrumentalists, up on the balcony.  Coinciding with the nine pillars of the lobby, the nine instruments consisted of three trombones and  two each violas, cellos and basses.  Finally, Kenney rejoined the entire orchestra--piano, chimes, and ensemble--and escalated into a scream at the end.

Musically, this piece was about an anchored tone which centered the rest of the sounds and set up a platform for melodic and harmonic relationship.  Typically this tone was played in the piano at the beginning of the work, and a hum filled the room which took advantage of the natural harmonics of the lobby to create resonance.  Kenney's voice also took advantage of the harmonic series, building upon and sliding around it.

Needless to say, as the audience rose in unanimous ovation, the cry of 'encore' brought an appreciative laugh.  What made us even more appreciative, however, was the fact that they actually did an encore.  Trimpin plunged into the mechanics of the piano, resetting it for a new set of tones, and Kenney reprised her role, including screaming face first into the piano itself, which made every pianist in the room break out into laughter.

The encore was met with another standing ovation, and a highly charged audience, admittedly a very tired audience, seeing as it was then past midnight, excitedly engaged in conversation among themselves and the artists before leaving the Hall to head for bed.

I had come alone to the concert because the friend I intended to go with had come down ill; I found to my surprise that I had more capacity to actually enjoy the concert because I wasn't worried about what anyone else might think.  Typically with modern music, I find myself criticizing it in my head because I feel like my companion(s) aren't enjoying it.  But this time I was allowed to appreciate it purely for the sensation, and enjoy it I did indeed.

In conclusion, I think it's fair to say that Morlot's 'niche' is a phenomenal success.