Miguel Angel Coria - En Rouge Et Noir (Cramps, 1976)

A baffling prepared piano vignette by way of Cramps' Nova Musica series, pounded out by an otherwise unheard of maestro by the name of Miguel Angel Coria. Not quite sure how Coria has rigged his piano, but it almost sounds as though a rake head was laid inside. Alternately sparse and frantic, Coria varies between dizzying sweeps and runs, stumpy chords, and a repetitious hand-and-peck typist approach. Progressively, the vibes grow weirder, as what are either tape treatment or ghost tones emerge and Coria's playing becomes less and less frequent. Comes as a whole or in easily rearranged pieces.

En Rouge et Noir

Mixed Band Philanthropist - The Man Who Mistook A Real Woman For His Muse And Acted Accordingly 7" (Hypnagogia, 2003)

Might be the puritan in me, but I'm a bit bashful about offering this up. Starts off fine, just a tumbling ball of TV snippets, giggling children, and leftover cartoon effects. Then a minute and a half in--out comes the weiner jokes, and it's Benny Hill subbing for Vicki Bennett on Do or DIY. The pace is such that once they start coming, it's an outright flood. The flip side keeps up the pace, still rough and tumble but does so with a sense of decency. These two sides date back to 1983, a year or so prior initial work on The Impossible Humane.

The Man Who Mistook A Real Woman For His Muse And Acted Accordingly

Luc Ferrari - Unheimlich Schön (Metamkine, 1993)

This 1971 piece from the late Luc Ferrari marks another contribution from an elder statesman in the Cinéma pour l’oreille collection. As with Radigue's Biogenesis, this is a piece that diverges from the path most often identified as the author's. He begins with a deep breathed refrain by Ilse Lau, "Unheimlich schön"--roughly translated as "terribly beautiful"--which repeats on, as a steady breath and an increasingly prominent room tone swamps the phrase. Fragmented echoes begin to crowd the short line, until one can hardly distinguish the voice from the echoes. The piece bears an uncanny resemblance to Robert Ashley's She Was a Visitor, so much so that it could act as Ferrari's response to that piece in mirrored form.

Unheimlich Schön

Terry Fox - Insalata Mista cs (Edition S Press, 1982)

Sadly lacking a cover for this one, but this candid shot will surely suffice. My original plan was to share this last Thursday, as it marked one year since Mr. Fox's passing. Having missed that deadline, I see no better time than the present.

The material here gives a fine view of Fox on the run in the 1970's, as his interest in the sonic nature of spaces was just in bloom. It begins with a duet with Joseph Bueys for pipe and glass, the closing of an hour long performance where the pipe is rapped upon and aimed at windows, its echo then used to find dead spots in the panes. Once found, the pane is then broken, continuing until all panes are shattered.

Numerous samplings of Fox's long string works are featured, from springy pieces to the dense timbrel exercises most common to long string investigations. More surprising are the anomalies, like the excerpt from Fox's 1977 piece "Culvert", a warbled head scratcher if ever there was one. Another highlight is "Lunar Rambles", an audio snippet from a five part video series wherein Fox arrived unannounced at various locations in downtown NYC and conducted a brief performance on a bowed steel disc and a metal bowl.

Insalata Mista

While on the subject of film, the fine folks at Ubu recently posted the following early video work by Fox, Children's Tapes, a tight framed series of simple household experiments set on a table top.

François Bayle - Jeîta / L'infini Du Bruit (Magison, 1999)

Always took this to be Bayle's back-to-nature work, but the line is blurry as to where natural sounds end and his transformations begin. His works often have a spaciousness to them, but here there is a genuine sense of space, of sound bouncing off walls. Part of this is due to much of the sound material--the tinkerings, gusts, droplets, and chirps--being recorded at the mouth of a cave, making the distinction between what's real and what's Bayle very confusing. The opening piece, Jeîta, was initially released in 1970 as part of the Prospective 21e Siècle series with the great silver covers. The two that follow, L'infini du bruit and Jeîta-Retour were both completed in 1999.

Jeîta / L'infini Du Bruit

Eliane Radigue - Biogenesis (Metamkine, 1996)

This 1973 piece by Eliane Radigue stands out on surface level as being very unlike her work before or after this period. The sources are essentially acoustic and a far cry from the technology she most often sought: with a stethoscope and a microphone, she recorded the heartbeats of her son, her pregnant daughter, and the rhythms of her yet to be born grandchild.It was during this time that Radigue was truly immersing herself in the ARP synth, and shortly prior to her brief sabbatical from music to further hone her interest in and devotion to Tibetan Buddhism. Though seemingly in contrast with her penchant for waveforms, the resulting pulses stir at a pace all too familiar from her electronic work. As with her ARP creations, her role here is to never interfere, merely to seek out the waves and allow them to do as they wish.

Biogenesis

Max Neuhaus - Four Realizations of Stockhausen's Zyklus (Alga Marghen, 2004)

Perhaps the biggest regret people having regarding Max Neuhaus' life is how little of it was captured to tape. I certainly am guilty of this lament and would without a doubt leap at an opportunity to hear any uncovered remnants of the late mastermind's work. Still, there is a certain magic to his concise representation, as if there really weren't much more one could ask him to do to prove himself. In fact, I dare say you could reduce his recorded output to these recordings of Stockhausen's No. 9 Zyklus for One Percussionist and his Fontana Mix-Feed and walk away downright impressed with and even intimidated by Neuhaus. Both are powerful testaments to his mind, with Fontana Mix-Feed showing his more practical side and Zyklus giving insight into his composure under pressure.

Stockhausen composed Zyklus in 1959 to be performed in percussion competitions, with its debut realization given by Christoph Caskel the same year. The piece is built around a spiral bound score with no defined start or orientation--the performer would choose where to begin and whether to read left to right or right to left--set to end when one meets back at the beginning note. To perform it, a twenty-one piece array of percussion instruments is set up in a circle, corresponding to the same spiral that forms the score. Though intended to be performed spontaneously, the three performers at the time who had successfully played Zyklus did so by making the decisions in advance and working out their own score.

Neuhaus, being Neuhaus, took the bait and did it right. His notorious problem solving ability came into play, working out the necessary techniques, but never the actual sequence of performance. One can only be so nimble minded. He first performed the piece for his graduation recital from Manhattan School of Music. At least a year separates each of these four performances, each starting at a new point within the score, each with a pace all its own. You can hear how Neuhaus' approach and confidence in playing the Zyklus evolved over time, though in each there lies a spontaneity by far serving the piece justice. The corresponding dates and locations are as follows:

1. Wergo Records Studios, 1963
2. Carnegie Recital Hall, NYC, 1964
3. West Deursche Rundfunk Studios, Cologne, Germany, 1965
4. Columbia Records Studios, NYC, 1968

Zyklus