Where Songs Go at Night
Annika Socolofsky (b. 1990)
7 Signs You Might Be Living In a Capitalist Hellscape (2022)
Ingrid Arauco (b. 1957)
Sextet (2021)
Hendrik Hofmeyr (b. 1957)
St Francis and the Birds (2021)
Chelsea Komschlies (b. 1991)
Beyond Machines and Human Fear, Space which was Never Our Frontier (2014)
Anne Weesner (b. 1965)
Where Songs Go at Night (2021)
Bandwidth
rec. 2023, Bezanson Recital Hall, University of Massachusetts, Amherst, USA
Neuma Records 193 [59]
Socialist realism, a doctrine which communist countries used to control cultural life, was meant ‘to draw attention to the real socio-political conditions of the working class as a means to critique the power structures behind these conditions’ (Wikipedia, accessed in June 2024). One wonders if Annika Socolofsky would be comfortable with her 7 Signs You Might Be Living In a Capitalist Hellscape treated as an example of socialist-realist art. The title and the movement titles make it an intriguing prospect.
That hobby you used to love has turned into a joyless side hustle is spirited, full of bustling energy. I may be missing the transformation from love to loss and joylessness. A listening guide might help.
In You’re still waiting for that economy to trickle down, the drip, drip, drip sounds of a woodblock, punctuated by the odd clarinet note, describe the promise never fulfilled.
The title Your coworker uses the word “synergysms” unironically bears an explanation. “Synergysm” must mean synergy: when things are combined, the effect is more than the sum of the parts. “Unironically” suggests seriousness and sincerity. But I am still struggling to understand, even if the music is perfectly straightforward.
You often find yourself delirious after deliberating the delineation of deliverables sounds perplexing if amusing. This may be irony. For example, are workers not concerned with the finer points of product delivery? Once again, the music is simple, driven by the bassoon. You can spot that gaslight ignite from a mile away is enjoyably perky, led by flute and horn. No amount of self-care can patch your soul back together is fittingly sad, as beautifully simple as it is simply beautiful.
This interesting work ends with You know that supply chain pain all too well. All six players give a fine performance. The movement titles may be sardonic, but the music is lively and most enjoyable. The synergy created here is quite brilliant, and I say that unironically! The composer notes that the work ‘strives to highlight the absurd and disturbing nature of capitalism and its blatant denial of the human form as anything but a machine for economic growth. The piece ranges from the comedic to the brutally honest, and everything in between.’ Indeed. I often feel that people are of interest to the wealthy only as ‘hewers of wood and drawers of water’ or as consumers.
Ingrid Arauco’s Sextet aims to make the saxophone, rare in chamber music, so seamlessly integrated that its presence, though distinctive, would be almost subsumed within the group. She has achieved that: one must listen carefully, because the instrument does not assert itself over the ensemble. In Prologue, with verve,each instrument makes an equal contribution. Espressivo, con movimento, the declared emotional heart of the work, is divided into five sections: a duo, a trio, a quartet, and all six players before closing with other duos. The movement is sad but its fragile beauty is a joy to the ear. Spaciously, doppio movimento restores a happier atmosphere. Strong statements are made; the music soars and dives and combines in a collective drive to a conclusion.
Hendrik Hofmeyr’s St. Francis and the Birds comes next. (Tellingly, he is the only male composer here: the presence of women in classical music has come very far!) This quintet – the oboist sits out – cleverly uses the instruments to represent real and imaginary birds. The unmistakable sound of the cuckoo punctuates the piece. The horn represents St Francis delivering his message ‘of humility and gratitude’ and letting the birds fly off to carry that message into the world. Any wind ensemble would delight in programming this effective and expressive work, and it goes for all the works on the disc.
Chelsea Komschlies’s Beyond Machines and Human Fear, Space which was Never Our Frontier is scored for flute, clarinet, saxophone and bassoon. It explores the notion that space, though unknown and thus frightening, also has an infinite magisterial beauty. The composer hints at clichéd sci-fi sounds to evoke the way we are used to representing space in music (ethereal sounds, sometimes from that most other-worldly, eerie theremin). The instruments here point to this, while Komschlies contrasts them with the softer, less brittle sounds of space. She portrays them as gently spiritual while she indicates the overwhelming, seemingly never-ending vastness.
The disc’s title piece, Where Songs Go at Night, was composed especially for Bandwidth. It was inspired by composer Anna Weesner’s fascination with the place that songs have in culture. She has an intriguing idea: break songs down to their various elements, and imagine these constituent parts in the music literally ‘hanging about’. They interact when they are not employed in any specific song, or not simply wander around, or are even lost. It all comes together at the end to remerge and to become whole songs, ready to do their job.
Apart from the latter piece, both the group Bandwidth and the works are the product of the pandemic. The members came together to channel their love of performing, and to create something meaningful out of the sense of isolation we all felt. They raised funds and commissioned music. The composers were, naturally, experiencing the same sense of loneliness, so they had no certain expectation the music would be performed, let alone recorded.
The music is dazzling in concept and execution. The players are all at the pinnacle of their game. Individual brilliance is melded into an exquisite whole. This is a disc one could easily enjoy having on repeat. Every hearing would reveal more of the intriguing ideas behind the titles, and make one admire even more the musicians’ ability to present most rewarding music born out of chaotic and frightening times. The project exemplifies the meaning behind the saying ‘It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good’. Thoroughly and wholeheartedly recommended.
Steve Arloff
Availability: Neuma Records
Performers
Cobus du Toit (flute), Kemp Jernigan (oboe), Romie de Guise-Langlois (clarinet), Jonathan Hulting-Cohen (saxophone). Joshua Michal (horn), Rémy Taghavi (bassoon)
