As with many people, I knew the Kronos Quartet primarily through Requiem for a Dream (and the even better known remix for the Two Towers trailer). While one viewing of the quality but draining film was enough, I did buy the soundtrack and was excited when they appeared on the program for the Clarice Smith Art Center at the University of Maryland. Seeing them in concert was quite an experience: a mix of live strings, recorded voices and sometimes music, striking light work. For one song they had a vocalist/storyteller that proved a welcome addition. For the record, the performers were two violinists, David Harrington and John Sherba, Han Duftt on viola, and Jeffrey Zeigler on cello.
Proceeding in order, we were both fond of their performance of Ben Johnston's arrangement of Amazing Grace. While that particular song is highly traditional, Johnston's take is avant-garde and approaches the well-known melody from a variety of angles with increasing complexity. Based on the program there was a specific method to the approach, but I may need to speak to some more music-savvy friends before I could really understand the underlying logic. Kate was particularly fond of the next piece, Missy Mazzoli's Harp and Altar, which introduced the use of vocal samples and was dedicated to the Brooklyn Bridge. This was probably their piece that ran closest to my expectations after having listened to the Requiem soundtrack CD, but unsurprisingly an architectural love song was far more uplifting than the Requiem. Next was Flow by Laurie Anderson, arranged by Jacob Garchik, which was a more soothing contrast to the prior two pieces.
That sense of calm was shattered by Steve Reich's WTC 9/11 which involved a mix of audio clips from the attacks, and other sounds, all closely coordinated with the strings. Combined with the use of backlighting, the performance very effectively evoked memories of that day. However, we weren't really sure we wanted those memories evoked in this particular setting. The real audio clips in particular seemed excessive as strings are well known for their ability to express tension and horror. Fifteen and a half minutes later the piece ended and intermission begun, leaving the audience to contemplate the ongoing scar on the nation's psyche.
The show resumed with Morton Feldman's Structures, a minimalist piece that played with a variety of forms in comparative isolation. We enjoyed listening to it, but neither Kate nor myself felt we had quite the technical expertise to fully grasp the experiments of the composition. The program, which was strong throughout, bracketed the performance with a quote from Feldman: "A modest statement can be totally original, where the 'grand scale' is, more often than not, merely eclectic." The next piece had that grander scale but went far beyond being eclectic.
The finale piece was Ben Johnston's arrangement of Harry Partch's "U.S. Highball: A Musical Account of Slim's Transcontinental Hobo Trip." The subject matter was delightful and reading about it had renewed our spirits during intermission and we greatly anticipated the performance of vocalist David Barron while studying the included hobo glossary and asking ourselves important questions such as "Does John Hodgman know about this song?" The composition follows the trip of an itinerant riding the freight trains from San Francisco to Chicago while troubled by the jerks of the train and the bulls (private railway security) that sought to keep the lines free of stowaways. The tale is a bit of a geography lesson, announcing as towns are passed through and often bemoaned. As impressive as Barron's work was, both in singing and acting, the quartet certainly kept of their end of the piece. Each segment of the journey was marked with its own style of music showcasing the wide variety of methods the four have mastered.
The applause after that finale was rewarded with two encores. First an arrangement of Thelonious Monk's work and then a song brought to the U.S. in the early part of the last century by a Greek immigrant whose name we do not recall but will research, found on an album entitled Black Mirror (no relation to the Arcade Fire song, to our knowledge).
Ultimately, we're both glad we went. I do think the 9/11 piece was perhaps meant as a counterpoint to everything else, a way of expressing a current pain in the American experience that has yet to be properly resolved. However, I still feel that the effect could have been achieved far more tersely.
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