George Crumb: Black Angels (Thirteen Images from the Dark Land)

Threnody I: Night of the Electric Insects

A truly amazing start to the composition. This threnody begins with all string instruments at a fff dynamic, playing continuous glissandos between notes in their upper registers, while also employing an extremely rapid tremolo. The effect is immediately comparable to thousands of insects buzzing away at night. In a similar fashion to Penderecki’s Threnody to the victims of Hiroshima, the score is not set out in measures. It is instead divided into lengths of time, and the lack of any rhythmic pulse adds further to the idea of these seemingly crazed insects. Crumb also uses dynamics to great effect, changing suddenly from fff to ppp and back again numerous times, as well as adding in a number of fast crescendos and decrescendos. Sections of this threnody which really appealed to me were the brief piangendo (in a tearful, plaintive manner) passages, where a single violin (perhaps a single insect) is heard playing slower, more melancholy glissandos above the rapid strings.

2. Sounds of Bones and Flutes

After the disturbing intensity of the opening threnody, this second section decreases in dynamic and texture, but still manages to retain an overall sense of mysteriousness. Sounds of Bones and Flutes is composed for a trio of string instruments: violin, viola and cello.

The role of the violin in this section is to replicate the timbre of a flute, and on the recording I listened to, it achieves this effect with remarkable ease. The key to creating this sound on the violin, it seems, is playing col legno tratto: drawing the wood of the bow, rather than the hair, across the strings of the instrument. The amplification of the violin may also help to produce this effect. Although the violin has only four brief, chromatic, ascending-descending phrases to play in this section, they are important in acting as bridges between the phrases involving the other two string instruments.

The viola and the cello take it in turns to play various melodic and percussive motifs. At different points the musicians are instructed to make loud tongue clicks, or whisper chant-like sounds such as ‘ka-to-ko’ at the ends of phrases. Many of the viola and cello passages also involve playing col legno battuto: almost the same as the above term, but in this case the strings are struck rather than drawn with the wood of the bow. This technique results in a very mysterious, percussive staccato sound, similar, as the title suggests, to the sound of bones being struck.

6. Pavana Lachrymae

This brief section is also composed for the trio of violin, viola and cello, and at first glance you could almost consider it to be rather ordinary in comparison to some of the other parts. For a start, Pavana Lachrymae (in English: the death and the girl) is one of only a few sections in Crumb’s overall composition to contain tonality. But an interesting instruction accompanies this section: ‘Grave, solemn; like a consort of viols, a fragile echo of an ancient music.’ Viols were a family of string instruments which were popular in the Renaissance period, before going out of fashion in the early Baroque age. The violin and cello players, in this piece, must hold their instruments like a viol, meaning that they have to bow behind their left hand (due to my limited knowledge of string instruments and their techniques I unfortunately haven’t got much of an idea of whether this is difficult of not, but I’ll assume that it is reasonably challenging!).

The homorhythmic texture of this section and the chunky harmonic changes would indeed suit the musical timbre of the ancient viol family. The trio creates a lovely melancholic ambience which is somewhat of a relief from the grinding, intense sounds which have come beforehand. However, the insects won’t seem to go away totally: they continue to be replicated by the other violin, which plays rapid tremolos and glissandos in its high register above the low, slow-moving trio.

10. God-music

I found this to be one of the most intricate and haunting parts of the composition. As mentioned in one of my other blog posts, Crumb uses a solo electric cello to represent the ‘voice of God.’ Underneath the cello, the string players put down their instruments and are required to instead play a number of crystal glasses, producing what Crumb describes as a ‘glass harmonica.’ The musicians do not, however, put down their bows, as they are instructed to play the glasses col arco and legatissimo.

The sound of the crystal glasses and the single cello are an amazing combination. Crumb has devised an exceedingly beautiful melody for the cello, which sings and moves with delicate freedom. A brief glance at the score would indicate that the melody is atonal, with numerous wide leaps and plenty of accidentals. However, the tonic key of B major is only just retained throughout the section. Each set of crystal glasses for the string players has their own set of distinct pitches: an F# major scale without the C#; a chromatic scale beginning on F# but omitting B flat, B, C and C#; and the pitches E#, G#, B, C, C# and D, which I can’t really associate into a scale. The glass sounds provide some nice dissonance and keep a calm, steady pulse throughout.

-Tully

George Crumb: Black Angels (Thirteen Images from the Dark Land)

Before I begin talking about the actual music, I’ll cover some of the background information on this composition.

Crumb intended Black Angels to act as a kind of allegory in regards to the contemporary world’s strife with religion – a kind of ‘God versus Devil’ situation. Throughout the early artistic world, a black angel was used to symbolise a fallen angel, one that had been banished from Heaven. This mystical concept is reflected through many elements in the music: for example, Crumb intended for the violin to represent ‘devil music’ and the cello as ‘the voice of God.’

The composition is divided into 3 sections (with 13 parts altogether): Departure (describing the angel’s fall from grace), Absence (musical themes of the fallen angel) and Return (a redemption section, where God triumphs over evil). Three threnodies placed at the beginning, middle and end of the overall composition serve as the main structural foundations.

Another interesting aspect of this piece is that each part is built around the prime numbers 7 and 13 (they are also fateful numbers, as Crumb suggests). This concept may be reflected in the length of phrases, through the groupings or duration of particular pitches, or through repetitive patterns or motifs. Indeed, these numbers are even reflected in the date on which the piece was completed: Friday the 13^th of March, 1970. Coincidence?!?

This piece was written during an era of composition famous for its experimental push into electronic music. Crumb reflects these new techniques by amplifying all the string instruments (2 violins, 1 viola and 1 cello), therefore creating an extremely intense and surreal sound. Similarly to Kryzstof Penderecki’s Threnody to the victims of Hiroshima, Crumb uses a range of avant-garde idiomatic techniques to further heighten the mysterious atmosphere contained within Black Angels.

In the next entry I’ll start looking at the actual score!

George Crumb’s “Ancient Voices of Children”

Hey guys,

For this week I chose the afore-mentioned piece for two reasons:

1) I loved Crumb’s  Black Angels

2) This work has a choral focus, which is of particular interest to me for I will be composing for an amateur choir this semester

As with my previous experience, I loved this piece. The exploration of timbral effects that dominates Crumb’s music is remarkable. I think that rather than learning a complex compositional technique, I discovered something simple yet far more important. Crumb’s focus is to investigate possible manipulations of sound. The experimentation present in this piece gives it distinction, and makes it a joy to listen to. For me, it was like seeing an excellent drama that leaves the audience on the edge of their seats, pondering what the creator would do next.

Thus, I found the score unhelpful to my listening experience – rather, it was a hindrance. Personally, I, who have always worked with pen and paper, constantly analysing what I had written, forgot that  notation was far subservient to sound.

Now, to fulfill the requirements of this study, I will describe some of the characteristics of this piece.  Crumb, as I mentioned earlier, is chiefly concerned with  sonic manipulation (as, I suppose, we all should). many effects I have never heard before are produced under his instruction. The mezzo-soprano is told to sing into an open piano, which produces an eerie resonance. He employs non-traditional instruments, such as percussion instruments from around the world and a “musical saw” to achieve his desired effects. He is also specific about instrumental placement and amplification techniques, and the soprano recieves intructions regarding her formations of sounds.

all the best,

Timothy

George Crumb: Black Angels – A Listening Study

Thirteen Images from the Dark Land

George Crumb’s other famous work I have chosen for listening study, Black Angels, is an avant-garde work written for an “electric string quartet” (in Crumb’s own words), over the course of a year.

The piece displays many numerological connections to the prime numbers 7 and 13 in its construction, as intended by Crumb. The three parts that comprise the entirety of the work (Departure, Absence and Return, respectively) are separated into multiple sections each, and each of these sections own their make-up significantly to a relationship between the 2 above-mentioned prime numbers, reflected in various ways such as the length of the section, note values, the patterns followed by the motifs etc. This is the first time I’ve personally encountered a piece that has been so heavily influenced by numerology alone, and as Crumb himself said, he has even forgotten how some of the numbers tie in to their respective sections, as he got carried away with the “Friday the 13th” concept used in its writing process (the date on the score itself reads Friday the Thirteenth, March 1970).

The religious undertones evident in the piece follow a very story-like structure, beginning right off the bat with an ear-piercing extended technique played by violins. This opening section (named Night of the Electric Insects) of the 1st “part” or threnody (Departure)  was used to great effect in the classic film The Exorcist. It introduces the dark mood of the piece to shocking effect, and sets the dark/deathly theme quite well. The violins symbolise the music of the Devil, whilst the cello symbolises the “voice of God” (featured mainly in the 3rd threnody).

The instrumentation of the piece is also extremely elaborate, and really showcases Crumb’s creativity in bringing together his experimental ideas for extended techniques into one solid mass. Not only is each string player required to play their amplified primary instrument, they are also assigned multiple sets of instruments such as glasses filled with different levels of water, or to whisper/speak at specific intervals (reminiscent of the speaking/yelling in his other work, Ancient Voice of Children). I really love the use of the simultaneous shouting and whispers of these words by the performers (especially in the section  Threnody II: Black Angels!), it adds great effect to an already powerful piece.

The third and final part, Return, brings the listener back to calmer waters with the cello playing the “voice of God”, who inevitably triumphs over the fallen angels. However, the piece culminates in a reprise of the introductory section, Night of the Electric Insects, and finally fades into obscurity with the crystal glass technique.

Marvelous.

- Rey

George Crumb: Ancient Voices of Children – A Listening Study

A work by George Crumb, written in 1970, scored for mezzo-soprano, boy soprano,  mandolin, oboe, harp, amplified piano (used as a catalyst where the mezzo-soprano sings into the amplified piano to produce an experimental new sound) and toy piano, backed by percussive elements (including prayer stones, temple bells and a musical saw).

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Structure of the piece is as follows:

1st Movement: El Nino Busca Su Voz

-interlude: Dances of the Ancient Earth-

2nd: Me He Perdido Muchas Veces Por El Mar

3rd: De Donde Vienes, Amor, Mi Nino?

4th: Todas las tardes en Granada, todas las tardes se muere un niño

-interlude: Ghost Dance-

5th: Se Ha Llenado De Luces Mi Corazon De Seda

–

Upon first listening, I noticed the vocals provoked a very menacing and eerie emotional response. The only previous work by George Crumb I listened to prior to this piece was Black Angels, and the introduction started on a similar high pitched note. After studying the text behind the movements, I learned that some are extracts from longer poems by Federico Garcia Lorca, the late Spanish poet and theatre director. The usage of the amplified piano as a reverberation chamber for the mezzo-soprano was an interesting idea, and the strings of the piano somehow added a complimentary dimension to the timbre of the mezzo-soprano herself.

The nature of the piece, as with Black Angels, is virtuosic. So much so that I’m having trouble appreciating it, let alone enjoy it. However, I can still see the artistry behind the work, especially after subsequent listenings. The  movements convey a sense of chaos that progressively grows, as the performers whisper and yelp in the background, adding a dimension to the piece rarely heard in chamber music. These seemingly random outbursts and mutterings synergise with the words sung by the mezzo-soprano, emulating a cacophony of vocals that is almost distractingly haunting.

It feels like the mezzo-soprano is imploring a higher power to grant her something that is humanly unattainable, something from the beyond. The work ends in a sudden burst of percussion and vocals,  and subsides in the resonance produced by the mezzo-soprano, spontaneous and somewhat distant.

- Rey