Brahms v. Radiohead at the Seattle Symphony

  

On July 11, I went into a concert with the slight trepidation of having no idea what I was getting myself into.  The program was a conglomeration of two famously complex and wildly different artists:  Johannes Brahms, and Radiohead.

The brain-child of conductor/composer Steve Hackman, "Brahms v. Radiohead" is the complete integration of various songs from Radiohead's 1997 album OK Computer into Brahms' 1st Symphony, which happens to be my favorite symphony of all time.  Mr. Hackman seemingly does it all:  according to the SSO program I was holding, he is not only a conductor and composer, but also a singer, pianist, producer, DJ, arranger, songwriter "and even rapper".  Considering his breadth of expertise, it seems natural that he would begin to innovate various ways of combining the classical repertoire with popular music.

As I entered the hall, with nose-bleed tickets in the right corner of the third tier, there seemed to be an even mix of both younger and older generations.  This is common with the exciting new concerts that introduce popular music as played by the orchestra, and is, in my opinion, an extremely positive indicator of the continuing success of the symphony.  I also noticed that, somewhat more uncommonly, the entire hall was completely full, even up in the nosebleeds.  

This is apparently what you get when you showcase two superstars from different spheres of the music world.  

Joining the orchestra on stage were three vocalists:  Andrew Lipke, Bill Prokopow and Kéren Tayar.  Almost immediately, Lipke launched in with Radiohead's "Airbag", with a clear, carrying tenor voice.  

Without missing a beat, the orchestra transitioned from "Airbag" straight into the Brahms' 1st movement, not an easy task considering that the symphony begins with a thundering timpani heart-beat and long, dramatic chords from the strings.  My ears instantly adjusted to the symphony I have by now memorized.

After the exposition, they transitioned into "Paranoid Android", which was a bit jarring to me as my expectations of the natural progression of the 1st movement were suddenly interrupted.  It took a minute for me to say to myself, "Wait a moment, drop your addiction to the familiar.  Open up, consider the possibilities."  Once I made this mental shift, it became much easier to appreciate the painstakingly crafted blend of Brahms into Radiohead, and vice versa.

Ending movement 1 of the symphony was a transition into "Subterranean Homesick Alien", with Tayar's haunting, keening vocals, and a sudden breakout into three-part harmony of all three vocalists which raised the hairs on the back of my neck.  The song instantly became one of my favorites.

As the music progressed, the songs became more and more part of the actual symphony, with harmonies carefully constructed to fit the existing harmonies of the symphony.  I found this especially impressive since, as since I mentioned before, both of these works of music are incredibly complex.  Whereas many of the earlier classical (Haydn, Mozart) symphonies maintain standard chord progressions such as I-IV-V-I at regular beats in the music, Brahms is anything but regular.  His seamless transition from tonal center to tonal center and definitive shifts from triple meter to double meter and back stretch the bounds of tonal classical music.  Similarly, Radiohead utilizes modality, chromaticism, and other hyper-tonal techniques in their arrangements.  To marry the two is a beautiful accomplishment.

For example, my favorite Radiohead song turned out to be "Exit Music (For A Film)", in the middle of which it became apparent that the music was going in a completely different harmonic direction from the section of Movement IV which was playing simultaneously.  The tension created by the impending harmonic crash condensed into one terrifying moment where no one knew what would happen.  Suddenly, all three singers broke out into three perfect tones of an even diminished chord which had me astounded with the accuracy of the dissonant harmony.  

In less tense moments, the singers utilized satisfying suspensions, not only against the orchestra, but also against each other.  Somehow, everything resolved correctly.

Another part of the genius of Hackman's arrangement was inserting various motifs from the Brahms into the Radiohead songs.  A couple of instances of this technique stood out to me in particular.

First, anyone familiar with the Brahms' symphony will recognize the violin solo played towards the end of the 2nd movement.  Not content with letting this gem remain embedded in the classical world, Hackman gave it another prominent statement in, ironically, "No Surprises".  The reminder of the movement, now passed, was a particularly contemplative moment.

Second, in the last song of the night, "Electioneering", the famed horn solo from the 4th movement of the symphony interjected - in minor!  The cleverness of this moment was extremely satisfying for those in the audience who recognized what was going on.

Which leads me to my question of the evening:  The concert was clearly enjoyable for any classical music lover who knows the intricate inner working of a musical composition - the harmonies, melodic and motivic development, structure and orchestration.  But what of the audience mainly familiar with the Radiohead pieces?  Were they able to appreciate the concert to the same capacity?

My question seemed to answer itself with the final, bombastic brass chords of the symphony's fourth movements.  The entire packed hall immediately raised to their feet and started applauding as loudly as possible.  The singers left the stage and re-entered; as Lipke bowed, everyone started screaming as if they were at a rock concert.  Hackman entered; the screams got even louder.  By the time he acknowledged the orchestra behind him, the audience was going crazy, and kept it up for a good five minutes.

With this level of craft, consideration, and attention to details, along with stellar orchestration, it seems impossible that anyone could turn their nose up at the "pop music" that had sold out the symphony.  The integration of classical and popular ended up a wild success that did not sacrifice musicality and artistry.  

After all, according to Steve Hackman: "Ultimately, when you distill them, they are made of the same twelve notes."

Chopin Nocturne

I've started a project recently for my beautiful little niece, Amelia.  Her mom (my sister), asked me to record some classical piano solos for Mila to listen to.

Here's the first recording, Chopin's Nocturne in E flat Major.  Incidentally, this piece was the favorite of my late grandfather, Dick Sauble.

Island

About two years ago, my friend Michelle Martinez and I took a day trip up to a beach in north Seattle, and had long deep conversations about love, relationships, and culture.  Somewhere along the beach, we got around to discussing writing songs together.

Later on that day, high on sunshine and Indian food, we took a look at a piece that I was working on, "Theme and Variations", of which I already completed the first variation and intended to write three more.  Using the pre-existing melody as counterpoint, and the harmonic structure with some changes to the form, we started to add a vocal melody with original lyrics.

It was amazing how quickly everything came together, once we started on the idea of telling the story about her past relationship with a woman who was distant and controlling, like an island surrounded by fast currents.  The music happened just as fast, and we completed the piece in less than two hours.

Putting it together afterwards turned out to be more difficult.  I had only just started learning how to mix and master recordings in Logic Pro X, and Michelle was just starting out learning recording techniques.  We experimented with different microphones, changing the key, and adding compression, but ultimately I was never completely satisfied with the final product.

About a month ago, Michelle suggested that we take another look at it, try re-recording and mixing the piece.  This time, everything came together pretty easily, and finally I'm proud to present what we created together.

Hub New Music

In a small, brick room resembling a vault in Seattle's lost corners of Capitol Hill, I joined an audience of maybe 15 persons for a performance of new music by mixed ensemble "Hub New Music".  As part of "Spontaneous Combustion"s mid-winter 3-week program, the group was invited with Michael Avitabile on flute, Jesse Christensen on Cello, David Dziardziel on Clarinet, and Zenas Hsu on violin.    It was a very intimate venue in an almost dead-space, where each instrument could be heard quite clearly.

The first piece, David Drexler's "Forgotten at Dawn", a score selected for the Spontaneous Combustion last year's call for scores, made good use of various string & cello techniques, with clear battuto col legion and on-bridge playing blended with the other instruments which swapped unison notes for a "who's got it this time" effect.  The Ensemble came together with a hollow balance, strings complementing winds and vice versa, with players who have been playing together long enough to resonate as a cohesive whole.

The second set, by Northwest composer Laura Kaminsky, depicted scenes from the Colorado Rocky Mountains, punctuated by the interruption of 9/11, which colored the set for the composer mid-through conception.  While there were some nice effects, I found myself disagreeing with the composer's endings; namely, that she either ended a piece of the set before I felt the development reached its peek, or adding a snippet where I felt the ending would be more effective.  For example, "Slate Riverbed" finished with a wholesome partnership of cello and clarinet, but where the mood and timing of clarinet would have been a satisfying ending, the composer chose to add a couple of extra notes in the cello that felt tacked on.  Furthermore, while "Boulders/Avalanche" had a very effective, tumbling beginning with gritty cello arpeggios, it recapped this thematic element near the end with none of satisfaction, nor even conclusion.  While I respect the composition and its method, I could not fully agree with its all the elements of its execution.

Robert Honstein's "Soul House", while drawing from a hum-drum programmatic subject, had some very satisfying and melodic pieces in the set.  For a world premiere of only 15 people in attendance, I thought it deserved a bigger audience.  Indeed, the conclusion of the first, "Bay Window", with its violin and cello harmonic arpeggios in varying speeds, drew goosebumps from my arms.  "Stairs" consisted of rising scales and major thirds for a whole tone series, bouncing, which was fun and creative.  I disagreed with "Alcove", with its static unison and pizzicato, which I felt lead nowhere, but my friend Jacob actually preferred this piece over the others.  "Hallway" was very loud and noisy - perhaps too much so for the small, dead interior.  I felt similarly about rising and falling "Driveway, which seemed to have little purpose though it had more motion than the former.  "Landing" felt like a technical study more than anything else.

"Cooper Beach", on the other hand, with a lovely 3rd ostinato passed from violin to flute to clarinet, had much harmonic purpose, with full but not cliche chords which pulled towards a goal.  The final piece, "Secret Place", started with a rising melody similar to "Ave Maria", and proceeded in a very carol-is set of unwinding chords.  While I agreed with the fluid harmonics, which kept returning to the melodic center, I cringed at the end.  As the violin rose in the melody to the highest pitch-perfect notes of the register, I felt deeply that it needed to decline in pitch to balance the obvious harmonics of the rest of the piece.  Unfortunately, it merely continued to rise to a conclusive tonic at the very top of the range of the violin, which felt so cliche that I thought it was a pity.

I wish "Hub New Music" all the best, and I hope to see them come to Seattle again in the future.

Recording 11/28/17

In October and November, I was asked to compose an original soundtrack for David Fowler's 40-minute movie "Lean On Me".  Eight of the tracks were programmed into MIDI in Logic Pro X; however, I chose two especially sensitive pieces to be recorded by soprano Achil Obenza, and cellist Ash.

We recorded together at Jack Straw Productions ( http://www.jackstraw.org ) in the University District in Seattle on November 28th.  It was a bit of a challenge, since due to Achil's illness and Ash's surgery immediately preceding the recording session, none of us had been able to rehearse together except by sending one another recordings of us playing our solo parts for the other to practice to.  Nonetheless, both of them were troopers, and we managed to get some really beautiful recordings.

Below are "Darryl" (track 6) and "Good Friend" (track 7).

Soundscape

Tonight, I had an existential crisis.

I think every artist has to go through these on a regular basis.

Somehow this happened as a result, and I won't lie, I'm rather proud of it.

Your Ma Must Be Proud 2017

In March, I had the privilege to debut two original compositions at the "Your Ma Must Be Proud" event, hosted by the Seattle Symphony Ushers.

My friend Janice Robinette, who wrote the poem "Bloodstones", asked me to write accompanying piano music for the poem.  In addition, I debuted "Theme Variation Number 3", which was recorded last year.

Here is the full program below: