Monotonous Forest

Morning disorientation

Shortly after having a few cups of coffee this morning, I found myself with a friend wandering through Richard Serra Sculpture: Forty Years, opening officially next week at the Museum of Modern Art.  All the effects of the caffeine gradually seemed irrelevant as we walked through a giant coil of undulating, rusted steel called Sequence (2006, above), perhaps the most stunning of the three colossal new works on the second floor.  As we moved around it and inside it, I found myself pondering more mundane issues, such as How on earth were these gigantic works maneuvered into place?  None of the museum's doors or windows looks remotely adequate, but a New York Times article offers some clues.  Time Magazine's Richard Lacayo also weighs in with an article that includes some breathtaking photographs. The comprehensive show includes some earlier, smaller works -- welcome as a complete portrait of the artist, but somehow without the utter awe that the large ones induce.

Update: in today's New York Times, Michael Kimmelman also likes that second floor.

[Photo by Frederick Charles for www.time.com]

Getting teary for Astroland

As a huge roller coaster fan, I've been making the pilgrimage out to Coney Island to ride the Cyclone for decades.  (I usually ride ten or twelve rounds, or until mild head and neck trauma sets in.) 

This year, however, may be a bit poignant since Astroland, where the coaster is parked, will close after the 2007 season.  In November 2006, the park's owners sold it to Thor Equities, which will transform the area into a resort.  Thankfully the Cyclone will remain, but this will be its final appearance in its delightfully dilapidated, seedy, retro context.  If you've never been out to Coney Island (and I know many who haven't) try to get out there sometime during the summer for one last glimpse. 

[Photo by Edward Sudentas © 2003, on www.wirednewyork.com]

Say "yes, yes" to Nono

I can't help but feel a bit lucky, hearing Wednesday's Nono performance by the International Contemporary Ensemble.  In case I don't have time to expound on it later, you can read Steve Smith's vibrant account of the first night. 

Apparently this piece has not been done in the United States since the 1970s, so I hope the hardy ICE players will consider a repeat.  Meanwhile, they are taking it to Morelia, Mexico, on a program that includes George Crumb's Black Angels (for electric string quartet) and 16, a work by Jason Eckardt, which you can preview here.

A Nono rarity

Next Tuesday and Wednesday, the International Contemporary Ensemble is at P.S. 122, with Luigi Nono's A floresta é jovem cheja de vida (The Forest is Young and Full of Life) from 1966, directed by Habib Azar.  It combines voice (here, soprano Tony Arnold, and do check out her amusing site), instruments and electronics, and since I've never heard it, I might cave in and go both nights.  (Running time is about 65 minutes.)

[Photo: Luigi Nono's grave in Venice by David Conway]

"You are (not) here"

Alas, my plans changed and I wasn't able to get out to Los Angeles for this excellent-sounding concert in Disney Hall.  Thanks to Jerry Zinser for his report, and here's another one from Timothy Mangan.

[Photo: lighted palm trees, flamingos and alligator from www.yardenvy.com]

My brain, branded again

Last night at Village East Cinemas, director Guy Maddin was on hand for the final screening of Brand Upon the Brain!, which I first saw last fall at Lincoln Center.  A second viewing only confirmed the film's quirky brilliance, with conductor David Hattner and Ensemble Sospeso in a fluid reading of Jason Straczek's evocative score.  In mellifluous form, Isabella Rossellini capped off the week's amusingly diverse crowd of guest narrators: Tunde Adebimpe, Laurie Anderson, John Ashbery, Justin Bond, Crispin Glover, Edward Hibbert, Anne Jackson, Joie Lee, Lou Reed, Peter Scarlet and Eli Wallach.

Just as riveting were the three Foley artists creating on-the-spot sound effects.  Now and then I couldn't help but look away from the screen to watch them, busily immersed in twisting bubble wrap (to make the sounds of a crackling fire), rustling a wad of recording tape (for wind blowing through tall grass), or twisting a bunch of celery (to simulate human bones and tissue cracking).  I want to hire them for a New Year's Eve party.

[Photo by Adam L. Weintraub: Sullivan Brown as Young Guy Maddin in Brand Upon the Brain!]

Regret for the day

I wish I hadn't waited until the last day to see the stunning Jeff Wall show at MoMA, simply because it would have been pleasurable to wait a week or so and revisit.  His enormous photographs, usually mounted on light boxes, are teeming with details and unanswered questions. 

Darcy James Argue is apparently another Wall fan.

The show travels to the Art Institute of Chicago and then to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.

[Photo: Passerby (1996), at Marian Goodman Gallery, via Artnet]

Weekend highlights

Last Thursday night, Pierre-Laurent Aimard did another one of his astonishing programming feats, climaxing with a knockout reading of Bartók's Sonata for Two Pianos and Percussion, with colleagues Tamara Stefanovich on piano, and percussionists Daniel Ciampolini and Joseph Gramley in brilliant form.  The evening's fascinating middle section began with Steve Reich's Clapping Music and continued with Ligeti and Nancarrow arrangements, all played without pause.

On Friday I saw a sparkling Falstaff at the Opera Company of Philadelphia, with Roberto de Candia in hilarious form in the title role, and Christine Goerke as a mischievous Alice Ford.  The sets were minimal but highly effective, a series of tapestries with Shakespearean woodcuts framing a simple raised stage, with an array of antlers overhead.

Saturday night was the second of Maurizio Pollini's two recent recitals at Carnegie Hall, including a pair of very short Stockhausen gems: Klavierstück VII (7 minutes) and Klavierstück VIII (2 minutes), Schumann's Kreisleriana and Beethoven's Hammerklavier Sonata, the latter in an earthquake of a performance.

And on Sunday afternoon, James Levine and the MET Orchestra were particularly agile in Elliott Carter's Three Illusions and his Dialogues for Piano and Chamber Orchestra, the latter featuring pianist Nicolas Hodges (no relation to your blogger).  Hodges has recorded the piece on Bridge with Oliver Knussen conducting (above).

Drunken sailors

Of the stack of recordings I brought back from New Orleans (most from the Louisiana Music Factory, where I have been known to spend two or three hours), by far the most unusual is Guano and Nitrates by The Valparaiso Men's Chorus, featuring the Tin Men, recorded in November 1994 but just released now.  I quote from the liner notes:

"You hold in your hands a rare and strange artifact.  For reasons no one can clearly remember, it was decided to assemble a large group of men for the purpose of making a recording of sea shanties.  The Monday after Thanksgiving was chosen to maximize the size of the group, and the Mermaid Lounge was chosen as the site, due to its proximity to recording equipment and alcohol.  We acquired the last two reels of 1/2 inch tape for sale in Orleans Parish and went to work.  Sometime around midnight we ran out of tape and liquor."

If you want to hear classics like "Blow the Man Down," "All For Me Grog" and "So Early in the Morning" sounding (most likely) as they were actually heard on a ship during the 19th century, this would be the disc for you.  Warning: it ain't exactly the Robert Shaw Chorale.

New Orleans postscript

Capping our final night in the city was a visit to Snug Harbor, where we caught an explosive, imaginative and occasionally humorous set by Maurice Brown on trumpet, with Derek Douget on saxophone, pianist Jesse McBride, O.C. Davis on drums, and Jason Stewart on bass.  Playing selections from his debut CD, Hip to Bop, Brown inserted a pause at one point, some thirty seconds long, as if to say, "I dare you to guess when we're going to start again." 

So speaking of starting again, the city is coming back, albeit slowly.  Significant portions of town remain boarded up, often with spray-painted notices from rescue teams still visible.  Late at night, the streets of the French Quarter aren't as overrun with people as they might have been three years ago.  Still, I would urge anyone who loves jazz and/or the city to make the trek down there.  There is plenty to do, and the city needs the support.

[Photo by Jonathan De'Ath]