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In The New York Times (June 6, 2006), Jon Pareles wrote:
There were plenty of tubas but no oompah in Anthony Braxton's "Composition No. 19 for 100 Tubas," the biggest spectacle at this year's Bang on a Can Marathon of new music on Sunday at the World Financial Center. Carrying a drum major's baton, Mr. Braxton mustered his "100Tubatet" — playing tubas, sousaphones, Wagner tubas and double-belled euphoniums — on the center's plaza. It played glacially slow, sustained melodies, creating a low growl that was uncannily similar to the tone of airplanes and helicopters flying overhead. So close to ground zero, the sound was unmistakably ominous.
Over the next hour Mr. Braxton and three other conductors led groups of tubas to parts of the plaza, following an inscrutable choreography. Sometimes two groups would be near each other, but there was no way to hear the entire ensemble. The slow melodies continued; every so often, one of the groups would huff a few sharply accented notes or make jokey noises. Yet over all, the piece was somber: an arbitrary ceremony, luxuriating in tuba tone, somewhere between elegy and exorcism.
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3 comments:
Mr. Blogmaster, that is me (Other Dave) and Sasha right there in foreground visible at the beginning of the video. Lily is just below us. I have some nice pictures of the event. I'll send you a few which you are welcome to add to your blog entry if you want.
And since I am there on video, I might as well describe what it was like. Here's a little more of my performance observances in no particular order. First off, the low-brass sound visibly vibrated the windows in the World Financial Center. The mating call/drone of the tubas attracted helicopters which fortunately would not linger. But also there was the distinct absence of pigeons during the performance. The tubas started off in a rectangular formation and were in three groups. Then they branched off and proceeded making snakelike patterns, periodically stopping at times. I wondered if they were tracing the figure of a tuba. Usually they were stationary. I assumed the good looking, polished tubas were being played by professionals, while the beat up, sometimes incomplete, or bumper-sticker adorned tubas represented the amateurs. At times the bands would play just the mouth piece, would make just blowing sounds (which sounded way cool with the large number of horns), would just finger the valves or tap on the mouthpiece, or emit convulsive and mighty blats all at once. Other times there was a hidden, low, and slow counterpoint going on between the groups. The audience became part of the piece, because they, like the tuba players, were confined in the plaza outside the WFC, and had to move into the negative space whenever the players relocated. So sometimes the sound came from one side (as it did for me in the beginning as you see in the video) and sometimes it was all around me. Fun fact: last Sunday was also the composer's birthday. Anthony Braxton attended and carried a baton of course.
Thanks for the great write-up!
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