ted hearne

bio // calendar // music // links // sounds // katrina ballads

NEW AUDIO:

vessels (2008) // make it out (2008) // you have aids (2008) //
mass for st. mary's (2008) // i remember (2007) //
cordavi and fig (2007) // patriot (2007)

Jun 26, 2008 11:42am
david king is a monster. this is a shitty picture. also, peep the blue shoes.

david king is a monster.

this is a shitty picture.

also, peep the blue shoes.
Jun 26, 2008 11:40am

the bad plus 1 with kurt rosenwinkel

i had the absolute pleasure of being transported to outer space on tuesday night by THE BAD PLUS, who played with kurt rosenwinkel at the new york society for ethical culture as part of the JVC jazz festival. not only do i love this trio, but we had seats in the front row and i was sitting directly in front of drummer david king, which although thrilling, made what he is able to achieve with rhythm no less mystifying. (there were a few balance problems early on though, and sitting right in front of king slamming the shit out of his drums didn’t really help - but it was totally worth it and i proceeded to geek out.) they played for about an hour, doing four or five of their own tunes, along with a couple of rosenwinkel’s (“turns” and “use of light”) and a jagged and fitful rendition of ornette coleman’s “song x.”

i am not deep into the jazz world, and so my opinion about this is sort of uneducated, but it seems like the bad plus does occupies a weird place for people. stop me if i’m wrong here, but it seems like some jazz guys are really into defining what ‘jazz’ is - and to those guys, the bad plus isn’t it.

maybe they are met with skepticism among jazzers because they are well-known for covering pop tunes (“heart of glass,” “smells like teen spirit”… also aphex twin’s “film,” although calling that pop would be pushing it). personally, i think they have a really innovative approach to their renditions of popular music, and they bring surprising rhythm and bright colors to those arrangements as much as to their own tunes. and i think their genre-bending moves in this regard are progressive in terms of their ability to challenge people’s perception of music. daring, original, but as far as i’ve heard always done with care and sophistication. pianist ethan iverson is incredibly versatile and has also sculpted arrangements around such classical hits as milton babbitt’s “semi-simple variations.” i would guess, though, that the pop-tune thing, coupled with the popularity of their last few albums, gives them an ‘accessible’ label that might be used to mean ‘shallow’ in some parts of the jazz community.

but they didn’t cover any pop tunes tuesday night. darcy james argue wrote an extensive review of the show, and i can assure you he’s right about the power of their last tune, bassist reid anderson’s “silence is the question.” the architecture of this rendition was incredible - it’s a slow, simple tune, and they built from an extremely expressive bass solo (anderson had me totally transfixed, as he tumbled with a legato i’ve never seen in an upright bass player through these beautiful upper register passages while accompanying himself with sparse and perfectly placed subtones - dude it was good) all the way through to a full wail in maybe 10 minutes? maybe more? i don’t know, clock-time kind of took a backseat to music-time. it was a truly memorable moment.

i did feel, though, that there was a bit of a sonic mismatch between rosenwinkel and the rest of the group. i guess this is to be expected, since the bad plus is such a tight-knit group and rarely plays with anyone else. but i think there was more to it than that… while rosenwinkel is a truly phenomenal guitar player, and i particularly love his work with the brian blade fellowship (who i was bummed to have missed last week at the village vanguard), he mostly used this clean sound that was super lyrical but monochromatic in comparison to the edgier colors the rest of the band was throwing out there, and especially juxtaposed against the david king’s nasty, explosive approach to those drums. he sold me on a couple of his solos, virtuostic and occasionally soaring, but ultimately i was wondering why he didn’t experiment with some nastier sounds.
Jun 22, 2008 10:11am
“ Lightness is Usher’s main, and perhaps only, gift. ” - Sasha Frere-Jones’ “Usher 2.0”
Jun 19, 2008 9:22am
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.] “Brownie, you’re doing a heck of a job” from our March 8, 2008 performance of Katrina Ballads at Greenwich House
Jun 19, 2008 9:15am

assume nothing

i have spent the last three weeks rehearsing for a new piece by michael gordon called “lightning at our feet.” it’s been a great and at times exhausting experience, and i’ve had the opportunity to work with some truly incredible performers. the show is being produced by ridge theater - this is my fourth or fifth time working with them, and it’s always invigorating to watch bob mcgrath bring a show to life. the first performances will happen at the mitchell center for the arts in houston at the end of october, and then we’ll come to BAM as part of the next wave festival in december.

i continue to be surprised with the openness michael brings to his work. there’s a spirit of discovery in this project that i have seen in a lot of his music lately, and it’s heartening to know that a successful composer can continue to explore, to bring untested and unpredictable elements into a new creation. he plays it safe a lot less than many composers out there.

it is interesting, though, and a little unfortunate, how those bang on a can founders (and the music they are writing today) have become separated in people’s consciousness from the movement they defined; their “classic” sound now perpetuated by younger musicians. this has little to do with their own actions and a lot to do with the mythology that has been created out of their story: their epic struggle to forge a new way in music, as underdogs, against a tide of academicism and elitism. it seems that the more this story is retold, the harder its edges become, with more absolutes and less and less opportunity for a nuanced viewpoint.

i suppose this always happens as the history of music is remembered, but it’s particularly ironic with respect to the boac movement - because the most radical change they brought to the scene was an openness to new influences. in light of that, when i see people of my generation clinging to that old uptown v. downtown conflict, it seems contradictory somehow. not to mention boring.

it was different for composers of that older generation, i know… but banglewood has created an extremely strong community, and it bred a whole generation graduate-musicians (of which i am one) that now make up a considerable force in the new-music world. we’re not underdogs anymore, and we don’t have a reason to shut ourselves off from entire musical channels just because we assume them to be irrelevant or elitist or institutionalized. (or un-american?) this kind of thinking leads to tunnel-vision, and especially for the fusion-minded composer (like many coming out of the “post-minimalist” tradition), it is self-defeating.

as i read this over, i realize this post is half-rant (“and another thing!!!!…..”) and half-duh (“really guys, listening to music is good….”). but a few weeks ago a good friend told me she was tired of people who value opinions over ideas, and it struck a nerve. people who would happily shoot down the ideas of others without really coming up with any of their own. see, i hear the phrase “i don’t like that kind of music” all the time - especially among musicians. especially among contemporary musicians. especially among composers!  this is so disconcerting.

please, have an opinion. be extremely critical and discerning. fight for good music! but declaring allegiances?…. why can’t we just take every new piece as it comes to us, without dismissing an entire “genre”  or “ideology?” (probably misunderstood anyway, as most good art slips between those cracks.) we don’t need an enemy to make good music. in fact, maybe a closed attitude toward unfamiliar movements keeps us from finding something new and worthwhile in our own stuff.
Jun 2, 2008 7:20pm
i’ve spent the last few weeks running around. i’m in missouri now with my sister and her husband and her two awesome kids, and after returning from san francisco i went to yale’s commencement on monday, and an awards ceremony at the academy of arts and letters in new york last wednesday. so i am totally pomped out and over-circumstanced. both these events felt like they belonged to some greater classical music establishment, which made me uneasy. i was very honored to be included, but i also felt pretty separate from - and at times at odds with - what seemed to be the dominant thinking behind both ceremonies.the man of the week was definitely wallace shawn. i’m sorry to say i knew him primarily as the “inconceivable!” guy from THE PRINCESS BRIDE - and i’m sure most people in my generation know exactly who i’m talking about - but apparently he is also an extremely accomplished playwright, and he was inducted into the academy of arts and letters a few years ago. a little over half-way through the nearly 2-hour ceremony, shawn delivered the keynote address, which he called “the unobtrusives.”this speech was multilayered and extremely fluid and immediately thought-provoking, and it shattered the self-congratulatory nature of the event. he was a child of privilege, wallace shawn told us, and because of this he was able to live in his room and write stories and draw pictures all day long; and he is still privileged, writing stories and drawing pictures for a living, except now he lives in the “mansion of arts and letters,” where the superiority of his craft is sanctioned and upheld by a body of his peers. but this assertion of superiority, he explained, was only part of a long tradition of human rituals, designed to ensure ourselves we are in fact better than other people. the higher we rise in the chain of wealth and success, the more superior we feel, and the more distant, the more bothersome, those less-worthy people become - for example, the highest compliment for waiters at the fanciest of restaurants is that they are “unobtrusive.” what an elegant existence it is when you don’t have to give the slightest thought to the people that serve you!i thought shawn’s alignment of this mentality with the very ceremony at which he was speaking was bold, but also amounted to a serious truth bomb. it’s important to remember that we often rely on paying members of the elite to support us - and he was kind of waving that fact around as a challenge. his argument was supported with a cursory glance around the crowd - many were elder statesmen(-and-a-few-women) of the american art world, honored and recognized, comfortably enjoying their ceremonial. yes, many of these artists were socially conscious individuals, many of them have probably dealt (even for a whole lifetime) with issues of inequality and social justice, and many have continuously pushed the boundaries of art and refused to settle for a more commercially acceptable path. but somehow, all this wasn’t enough. it was too easy. “we do not know how our art will be used in the future,” he said. and this, i feel, was his most activist sentiment. as in: how, and for whom, is it being used now? we know, and we have more control over this than we think.i was hearing a call to fight the intolerability of privilege, to question the practical purposes of your art now, and to never forget the neediest. and (a problem to which i myself am prone) to resist that common pathology of the liberal rich, which is to wallow in guilt at the expense of becoming a change agent. at the very least, shawn suggested, art could be a confounding distraction to the urge to make war (perhaps the ultimate assertion of superiority.)it’s hard to not preach to the converted when you’re addressing inequality with a bunch of artists. but somehow, i felt like shawn’s words were a stinging indictment of the elite art community, and also of awards ceremonies in general. no matter what happens, no matter how successful you become, deep down you’re not superior to anyone else. this idea, in the right place at the right time, was invigorating. i’ve spent the last few weeks running around. i’m in missouri now with my sister and her husband and her two awesome kids, and after returning from san francisco i went to yale’s commencement on monday, and an awards ceremony at the academy of arts and letters in new york last wednesday. so i am totally pomped out and over-circumstanced. both these events felt like they belonged to some greater classical music establishment, which made me uneasy. i was very honored to be included, but i also felt pretty separate from - and at times at odds with - what seemed to be the dominant thinking behind both ceremonies.

the man of the week was definitely wallace shawn. i’m sorry to say i knew him primarily as the “inconceivable!” guy from THE PRINCESS BRIDE - and i’m sure most people in my generation know exactly who i’m talking about - but apparently he is also an extremely accomplished playwright, and he was inducted into the academy of arts and letters a few years ago. a little over half-way through the nearly 2-hour ceremony, shawn delivered the keynote address, which he called “the unobtrusives.”

this speech was multilayered and extremely fluid and immediately thought-provoking, and it shattered the self-congratulatory nature of the event. he was a child of privilege, wallace shawn told us, and because of this he was able to live in his room and write stories and draw pictures all day long; and he is still privileged, writing stories and drawing pictures for a living, except now he lives in the “mansion of arts and letters,” where the superiority of his craft is sanctioned and upheld by a body of his peers. but this assertion of superiority, he explained, was only part of a long tradition of human rituals, designed to ensure ourselves we are in fact better than other people. the higher we rise in the chain of wealth and success, the more superior we feel, and the more distant, the more bothersome, those less-worthy people become - for example, the highest compliment for waiters at the fanciest of restaurants is that they are “unobtrusive.”

what an elegant existence it is when you don’t have to give the slightest thought to the people that serve you!

i thought shawn’s alignment of this mentality with the very ceremony at which he was speaking was bold, but also amounted to a serious truth bomb. it’s important to remember that we often rely on paying members of the elite to support us - and he was kind of waving that fact around as a challenge. his argument was supported with a cursory glance around the crowd - many were elder statesmen(-and-a-few-women) of the american art world, honored and recognized, comfortably enjoying their ceremonial.

yes, many of these artists were socially conscious individuals, many of them have probably dealt (even for a whole lifetime) with issues of inequality and social justice, and many have continuously pushed the boundaries of art and refused to settle for a more commercially acceptable path. but somehow, all this wasn’t enough. it was too easy.

“we do not know how our art will be used in the future,” he said. and this, i feel, was his most activist sentiment. as in: how, and for whom, is it being used now? we know, and we have more control over this than we think.

i was hearing a call to fight the intolerability of privilege, to question the practical purposes of your art now, and to never forget the neediest. and (a problem to which i myself am prone) to resist that common pathology of the liberal rich, which is to wallow in guilt at the expense of becoming a change agent. at the very least, shawn suggested, art could be a confounding distraction to the urge to make war (perhaps the ultimate assertion of superiority.)

it’s hard to not preach to the converted when you’re addressing inequality with a bunch of artists. but somehow, i felt like shawn’s words were a stinging indictment of the elite art community, and also of awards ceremonies in general. no matter what happens, no matter how successful you become, deep down you’re not superior to anyone else. this idea, in the right place at the right time, was invigorating.
May 17, 2008 12:53pm

vesselize

i just put up a recording of my new piece, “vessels.” please enjoy and let me know what you think.
May 16, 2008 3:19pm
last summer it was foggy and cold almost every day i was here. this week it’s been sunny and in the 80’s. we hiked through some redwoods the other day. this is one of them. last summer it was foggy and cold almost every day i was here. this week it’s been sunny and in the 80’s. we hiked through some redwoods the other day. this is one of them.
May 16, 2008 3:14pm
san francisco reminds me so much of cape town. san francisco reminds me so much of cape town.
May 12, 2008 6:13pm

mohair time warp, david broome

after another exhausting weekend, i finally got off the east coast for a minute and am spending the week in san francisco. it’s sunny, chilly, windy as hell, but a completely different vibe and i’m ready for it. i’m here for janina’s graduation - in a week, she’ll be a doctor, and within a month she’ll be living in washington heights, about to start what looks like a totally grueling residency. i’m completely in awe of her knowledge and dedication, and i’ll be honoring it all week by eating california salads and attempting to not drop the f-bomb around her parents.

 i saw some more great shows before i left new york, though - including MOHAIR TIME WARP at Joe’s Pub last thursday. this is a project by william britelle - he wrote all the music and frontlines a band of eight - and the concert was a CD release show thrown by new amsterdam records. britelle lip-synched the whole show with zest, matching a pre-recorded vocal track that in itself had a curious and intriguing sound to it. the band played rhythmically detailed music, precisely synched with the tape with the help of a conductor. corey dargle opened for them.

james moore, who plays guitar with mohair, suggested that it might be missing the point to analyze or look too deep into what was going on with britelle’s music, but i don’t know if i can help it. each song was built of several fragments, some catchy and poppy, some freely floating and untethered. the lyrics are fragments as well, recognizable only as individual phrases, seemingly unrelated to one another. the musical impetus and style turns on a dime, painting each text in a new light, as if discovered on a fridge covered with magnetic poetry droppings. it’s definitely music that could be aligned with zappa and zorn, although in his polystylistic stuff, zorn seems to always retreat back to the noise. with mohair time warp, the “home-base” sound isn’t as hard-edged - it’s an almost relaxing harmonic palette actually, with lots of sweetly voiced retro jazzed-up rock chords, and very athletic but diatonic melodic fragments. there are little moments of rhythmic drive, but they always get quickly subverted by the next microsong, so as the show went on it became clear that the idea of rhythm in this music would come from the nature of the succession of parts, in proportion to one another.

so maybe this is the “time warp.”

in this regard, the experience of watching the show in real time was mystifying, because the length and time-scale of each fragment - both in itself, and in the way it related to the song it was a part of, and in the way the whole song related to the entire set - was completely unknown. at times, these time properties were predictable: not in any conventional sense, but only because i had begun to grasp the britelleian mode of musical time. of course, my expectations were thwarted throughout as well. so it kept me on my toes. but by the end, i wanted either a sharper-edged jerking or a smoother melting-together of elements that blurred my conception of time even more. i also was sad i didn’t hear more from the band. they all played great, which seemed like no easy task in terms of coordination, but the orchestration treated them as a smooth unit - this served the harmonic language very effectively, but i was wondering why there were no solo parts or extended instrumental moments that matched or responded to the virtuosity of the vocal lines. it was an extremely original sound, though, and obviously got me warped in a time sort of way (although maybe more than i was supposed to be).

ALSO… on saturday, i saw DAVID BROOME play a kick-ass International Artists piano recital at Merkin. continuing this month’s rzewski-mania, david played both Piano Piece #4 (which is so intense and unrelenting and great) and De Profundis (which throws me for many loops every time; i finally think i have it in my hand and then it flies away and poops on me). he also premiered Scott Wollschleger’s Chaos Analog, a super-whitekey-style manic scott explosion which was rhythmically quite surprising and really left me wanting to hear it again (despite having the un-reproducable experience of craig woodward’s cell phone going off next to me at full volume, although both the ring and scott’s piece were cousins of C-major so it wasn’t the most incongruous thing that could have happened… when it went off again during de profundis, well that was incongruous). but yeah, he also played, very simply and solidly, a movement from Messaien’s Vingt Regards and an enjoyable piece by chris marienetti wherein the pianist became beat-boxing pianist. the program was extremely well put together and david is a very engaging but down to earth solo artist. there’s no pretension in his playing, and because of that it’s much easier for you to get right in it with him. maybe because of my willingness to go along with his personal spin on the music, one of my favorite parts of the show was when he performed his own songs, settings of children’s texts which he sang and played, and an a cappella vocal trio called “chickawah.” they achieved the same kind of simple intimacy that made the whole show a success, and their silly moments didn’t jolt me out of the concert experience or provide a light moment in a serious evening, they merely complemented and added to it. maybe the solo piano recital isn’t completely dead after all, as long as the pianist takes a page from the book of broome. 

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