Entries associated with the tag "Minimalism":

On Friday at the Empty Bottle, composer, writer, philosopher, violinist, and art-world gadfly Henry Flynt gave an incredibly rare performance as part of the annual Adventures in Modern Music festival. It followed on the heels of several east-coast gigs this year, his first since the mid-80s, and from what I've read this show followed the same template those did. Joined by his niece Libby Flynt (a rockabilly guitarist who'd briefly been in Band of Susans), they played electric guitars over a mind-numbing high-decibel loop that consisted of a single organ chord and a hammering beat that sounded like a one-second Stereolab sample. If that sounds like fun, just wait.

Before I continue, I should say that I've enjoyed the deluge of Flynt reissues that've been emerging over the past few years, most of them on the local Locust label. On those discs he tackles everything from rural Americana to Indian ragas, giving the music an appealingly homemade feel with his wonderfully ragged and rugged violin playing. He's no virtuoso, but he clearly has enough good ideas to make the music gripping--or at least he once did. On Friday his guitar playing showed no evidence of that genius. As his niece wove together competent if shopworn rock and blues riffs, Flynt sounded downright lost.

His fractured, half-formed licks were recognizably from the same well of American roots music that Libby was drawing on, but his stumbling articulation made him sound like a three-year-old trying to read Latin. I couldn't hear a connection between his guitar and the tedious backing track, and I couldn't hear a connection between one of his lines and the next. A stack of paper sat on a music stand in front of him, and he repeatedly shuffled the pages--but if that was sheet music, his playing hardly reflected it. And whenever he took a swig of water, he took off his guitar and set it down first, only to strap it back on after swallowing. Several times he gestured to his niece to turn down her amp, which seemed ill-considered since she was the only one holding the set together. Finally, after 50 minutes or so, he gestured to the sound man to cut the backing track. As the audience applauded, Flynt broke out in a smile--something of a relief, since during the show he'd worn the stern face of a cranky old man who'd enjoy stealing candy from children--and bowed.

I suppose it's possible that this was performance art and I just missed the message. But to me it sounded like Flynt was either losing it or so full of himself that he never doubted his right to stage such a mess.

Today's playlist:

Various artists, When Gospel Was Gospel (Shanachie)
The Necks, Townsville (ReR)
Milton Banana Trio, Milton Banana Trio (EMI, UK)
Emmylou Harris, All I Intended to Be (Nonesuch)
Gwilym Simcock, Perception (Basho)

Veteran minimalist Phill Niblock has been making up for lost time over the last seven years, releasing more music than in his first six decades on the planet. He uses a computer rather than a tape machine these days, but his basic style hasn't changed: capturing original sounds (from open-minded musicians like George Lewis, Jim O’Rourke, and Ulrich Krieger) and superimposing them to create long-form drones rich in harmonic overtones. For “Parker’s Altered Mood, aka, Owed to Bird,” from last year’s 3-CD set Touch Three (Touch), Niblock recorded Krieger playing each of the 13 notes that comprise the theme from Charlie Parker’s “Parker's Mood” for 15 seconds each, then repeated the sequence six times. The layering produces fascinating acoustic phenomena like beating, where sonic interference results in hypnotic, undulating waves of sound. It's simple on the surface, but if you concentrate, microscopic movements reveal a gorgeous level of detail.

At 8 PM on Friday, April 20, Niblock will give a free concert at the Gahlberg Gallery at the College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn, with cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm providing the source material. The performance is in conjunction with a gallery show of Niblock's video and film work, which runs through May 26. (There’s an opening reception on Thursday, April 19, from 6 to 8 PM.)

Here’s a six-minute excerpt from the piece “Harm,” which features the cellist Arne Deforce. It’s taken from the above-mentioned Touch Three. You can listen below or click here to download.

Last night the expanded Chicago version of the Rhys Chatham band delivered two impressive renditions of Guitar Trio (1977), the blueprint for guitar rock minimalism. On the first version drummer John McEntire kept time using only cymbals, while the second version was the full-on rock take. Yes, it was loud, but the beauty was in the harmonics, the way the chords and massed notes just hung in the air, thickening and morphing. I was pretty let down last fall by Chatham's heavy metal project, the Essentialist, so last night went a long way in restoring my faith in the guy.

Still, he's a weirdo. Seeing him in the middle all of those male guitar players was strangely homoerotic, especially with some of the extended stares between Chatham and the rest of his band: at one point I was certain he was going to start making out with Ben Vida. At the end of the performance Chatham consulted a little note pad so he could properly introduce each band member, reading each name aloud in a faux-metal growl--which was especially weird coming from a guy who looks like a fallen priest. And the formal post-performance bows looked just as silly as they did a few months ago.