San Francisco

Hypnagogia, Climate Theater

Hypnagogia defines the state between sleeping and waking: the state in which our dreams can seem more real to us than the waking world, and which, depending upon the nature of our dreams, our limbo-selves seek to flee, or to sustain.

My primarily mission in attending Hypnagogia at the Climate Theater was to see the performance of The Flip Quartet by Polly Moller, as I will be part of upcoming performance of the piece in July. The performance featured Karl Evangelista, Jason Hoopes, Thomas Scandura and Bill Wolter. The Flip Quartet is a composition for four improvisers who move between four stations representing the cardinal directions (north, east, south, west) and the four medieval elements: earth, air, fire, water. Each station had a variety of instruments and sound-making objects to represent elements.


[click to enlarge]

“Earth” had drums, stones, and blocks. “Air” included various wind instruments and shakers. “Fire” featured metal instruments and electric instruments (keyboard, electric guitar, etc.). And “Water” included water-filled containers, but also acoustic string instruments – this was the only association I had a difficult time figuring out, with my own interpretation being “standing waves.” Each section of the piece starts with the performers “flipping” a timer. When the time runs out, they stop and move on to the next station.

The audience sat in the middle of the theatre, with half the seats facing one pair of elements and half facing the others. Since there were two performances, I got a chance to see and hear the piece from “both sides.” Musically, the piece unfolded as ever changing harmonies of the different objects, often very discrete and percussive, along with many theatrical moments such as attempting to balance on the “earth” elements on the head of a drum. My favorite moment musically was the combination of the Asian pipe (shown one of the photos above), lute, shakers and thunder tube.

The other musical performance was Philip Greenlief performing a solo work The Fourth World. The piece is based on Hopi conception of time and the Fourth World from Hopi mythology, and is a solo performance featuring Greenlief’s expressive and virtuosic saxophone playing. I am always impressed with his multiphonics, which he manages to make seem as easy to play as standard tones. Spatially, this performance was the opposite of The Flip Quartet, with the audience seated in a circle facing inward and creating a more intimate space.

In addition to the featured live musical performances, there were visual art pieces, installations, and media and performance art. Sean Clute, Jessica Gomula and Gina Clark presented a “video action painting and performance” entitled Slippery Dreams 2009.

Live video of the drawings being created were projected onto the screens, and I believe also used to control the sound that was generated.

Louis Rawlins presented the installation Sleep Patterns, set up as a bedroom or sitting room where one could relax and touch the ball of yarn on the table.


[click to enlarge]
The string (which included conductive thread) was used to generate sounds in response to the viewers interactions. Presumably, one could interact with this piece while asleep.

The were several video pieces of varying subject and quality. I did like Vanessa Woods’ What the Water Saw, a short film that originally was shot on 16mm/35mm film and transferred to video. It was meant to mimic ocean with the distortion of images through water, as represented by the intense layering and deep colors of the film. After looking at Woods’ website, I think I might have been more interested in some of her black-and-white films. Rebekah May’s Celestial Cadence for video on five iPod Touches was an interesting visual in itself, with its arrangement of abstract color and shape patterns:

Among the purely visual works that caught my attention was the undulating Circulation III by Julia Anne Goodman, a mobile work that was created from junk mail (and there is certainly plenty of that around); also Klea McKenna’s Taxonomy of My Brother’s Garden from Center of Gravity:


[click to enlarge]

Finally, as it was quite stuffy inside the theatre and gallery on this rather warm night, there was the welcome retreat to the rooftop, where VoxMaids performed rhythmic and traditional-sounding music for drums, accordion and voices against projections of astronomical objects. Alternatively, one could look at a real astronomical object, the moon, on this rather clear night.

room: PIPES

On Sunday, I attended the room: PIPES featuring Polly Moller, Pamela Z and Jane Rigler. The Room chambre series, hosted an produced by Pamela Z, take place in the Royce Gallery, an “intimate performance gallery” in the Mission District of San Francisco. The room: PIPES performance featured performances that incorporated flutes.

Before the start of the performance, we were treated to a welcome by “Ellie”, the freight elevator in the building that houses the Royce Gallery. While some music purists might be appalled to have a freight elevator included in a performance, I found it quite charming to incorporate an element of the industrial setting.

Polly Moller presented a new work, Three of Swords. The performance included an arrangement of Tarot cards, a timer and a series of candles to mark sections of the piece. In each selection, a card was drawn, and the music was an improvisation based on that card. The music focused on extended flute techniques; for example, the first draw led to an improvisation with the head of a bass flute using microtones, overblowing, whistles, clicks and other inspiring sounds. The one section of the performance that stood apart from the others was the drawing of the Three of Swords, illustrated to the right, which launched a very detailed but very expressive description of the human heart.

Pamela Z‘s playful and energetic performance did not feature flutes, but instead focus on voice. It began with live looping of tonal and harmonic singing (look up “live looping” here on CatSynth for a primer if you’re not familiar with the technique), and gradually moved to more extended vocal techniques, including clicks, screeches (with electronic processing), whispers, etc. The video in the background displayed an interior of an old industrial or loft space, empty except for a trunk that appeared and disappeared at various times. Sometimes it was open, to reveal drawers and messy clothes.

Jane Rigler opened her set with a virtuosic flute and electronics piece and the welcoming statement “Do not fear the microphone and piccolo.” She then performed her piece A la pintura, inspired by Robert Motherwell’s paintings, which were in turn a response to Spanish poet Rafael Alberti’s poems celebrating painting. Motherwell’s paintings, both as stills and as animations, were projected during the performance, and there were also moments where text was projected, presumably excerpts from Alberti’s poems. Motherwell’s paintings are quite abstract, focusing on textual elements and geometry. To have these images along with strong flute-and-electronics music (a favorite instrumental combination of mine) was a treat.

The performance concluded with a trio improvisation of all three performers. In addition to the flutes and voice, Polly Moller broke out her “tone nut” (doughnut-shaped wind instrument), and Pamela Z played the popular Ocarina iPhone instrument. It’s always interesting to hear how such disparate musicians play off of one another, and this group improvisation could have kept going on for a bit longer…

May 9 at Bluesix: Aaron Novik’s Thorny Brocky and Sqwonk

Last Saturday, I went with friends to the Bluesix Acoustic Room. As the name suggests, this small venue in the Mission District of San Francisco presents acoustic acts. I have seen several interesting shows here, including some experimental ensembles, dance and avant-garde jazz. This show tended towards the latter, with Aaron Novik’s Thorny Brocky ensemble and special guests Sqwonk.

Sqwonk are a bass clarinet duo consisting of Jon Russell and Jeff Anderle. By their own admittance, there is not much of a repertoire for two bass clarinets. But they were able to put together a full set of composed pieces, including one by Novik. Much of their performance was quite harmonic and consonant, including power chords (check out the selection on their MySpace for an example). But there were also interesting microtones and multiphonics that one can do on a clarinet. They also played with the effects of playing unison or near unison or similar lines out of phase. Towards the end, things got quite loud (especially for such a small space as Bluesix), demonstrating the power of these instruments. I am quite partial to the clarinet family, having played the instrument in my youth and composed for Bb and bass clarinet quartet.

Aaron Novik’s Thorny Brocky began their set with bass and light percussion – drummer Jamie Moore definitely has a very light touch that several of us noticed and remarked upon. The bass and percussion were matched by Novik’s bass clarinet key clicks, and eventually by the strings. The odd-time rhythms and phrases of the first two pieces had a strong roll and undulation that was easy to get lost in. There were other moments throughout the set that caught my attention, such as the unisons between different the bass clarinet, violin and accordion, and a bass solo with ethereal accordion tones. A rhythmic moment where the ensemble switched from their syncopated rhythms into a straight swing. There were sections that evoked classical and dramatic music of the 19th century, and some softer “show-tune-like” harmonies. The set ended with what Novik described as their “metal project” – it actually sounded quite familiar, and made me recall that I had seen them at Bluesix before.

Full Moon Concerts – Flower Moon.

On Thursday, I attended the Full Moon Concerts – Flower Moon, part of the Thursday Outsound music series at the Luggage Store Gallery in San Francisco (which I have played at many times). The series, which occurs on the Thursday closest to the full moon of every month, is curated by our friend Polly Moller.

The first half of the concert featured a duo by Theresa Wong and Kanoko Nishi. The set began with pitch extremes, high “harmonics” on the koto and low tones on the cello, at first quite distinct but converging and becoming more melodic over time. There were in fact three lines rather than two, as Wong’s vocals provided a counterpoint that was sometimes completely blended with the sound of the cello to form a chord, at other times a separate instrument. The overall sound moved from extremely percussive, with Nishi’s sometimes violent bending, striking and stretching of the strings and use of external objects such as styrofoam packing, to calm, almost “harmonic” drones. The transitions were not abrupt, but they did sometimes come unexpectedly, the listener suddenly finding himself in a completely different set of sounds. The last of these transitions went from a very loud section featuring the styrofoam and mallets set against a cello drone, and then suddenly fading out as quiet harmonics and blending into the city sounds outside.

The second half of the concert featured the ensemble Vorticella, which included Krystyna Bobrowski on horns, Erin Espeland on cello, Brenda Hutchinson on aluminum tube and vocals, and Karen Stackpole on percussion. The ensemble takes its from the vorticella, bell-shaped single-cell life forms that exist in colonies but can break off on their own at any time, an apt metaphor for group improvisation.

In taking notes for this review, I ended up drawing the following graph while listening, and I think it describes the initial section of the performance as well as any full text:

I particularly noticed how Hutchinson’s vocals as amplified and resonated by the tube sounded “electronic”, and my attention was focused on this as well as Stackpole’s metallic percussion, which ranged from conventionally “metallic sounding” to unusual squeaks and bubbling. Espeland’s cello and Bobrowski’s french horn and visually interesting kelp horns filled in the space, with either long drones or “pointed sounds” that matched the texture of the percussion and the vocals.

A later section that caught my interest were a smoother and more “linear” piece anchored by bowed gongs, with drones on the cello and horns, ending with the resonances of the gongs fading naturally. This was followed by a relatively soft section of discrete notes and hits, which came a sudden end and concluded the concert.

Art notes: SFMOMA, Kentridge, Shettar, First Thursday

This was a rather art-intensive weekend, even by our recent standards at CatSynth., spanning Thursday through Sunday. This article will only touch on a few items.

At an unplanned visit to SFMOMA, I encountered for the first time work of William Kentridge. Kentridge is a South African artist working with stop-motion films, multimedia, dance and theatre. His work spans from whimsical to overtly political, often dealing with themes from both South Africa and the region. My initial impression of Kentridge’s work from the exhibition ads and the first passing glance at the gallery were mixed. The figures in his earlier animations, such as Soho and Felix are caricatures, with squat bodies and exaggerated features, are usually not that inviting to me. But one can quickly see the immense time and skill that went into these works, which are made from a sequence of charcoal drawings. And having seen the craft, I started to notice the art, and able to step away from the figures themselves to see the mixture of film, animation and music at a more abstract level. His later works, such as 7 Fragments for Georges Méliès, Journey to the Moon, and Day for Night, allow for a more abstract viewing, and also introduce his self portraits and self-deprecating sense of humor. Set on six screens, I moved between abstract animations of star and insect movements, and the artist spilling coffee onto his blank paper.

Probably the most interesting was his newest piece, I am not me, the horse is not mine, 2008, loosely based on Nikolai Gogol’s The Nose. There was of course a partly live-acted, partly animated nose as the “star”, but also other elements depicting the demise of the Russian avant-garde under Soviet rule, and elements mixing abstraction and Soviet-style realism, with muted color fields, geometry and text. There was also an interlude of South African choral music for good measure. I wish I had been in town for the performance and lecture last month.

The final works, based on Mozart’s The Magic Flute, were the most elaborate, with video projects based on archival film, animations and stills projected into wooden stages with live mechanized shadow puppets. It was clear that the audience was transfixed in a way I usually don’t see for multimedia and video presentations in an art gallery.

This is probably worth going back to see in more detail. I simply did not have the time to stay and watch every video and animation.

Also at SFMOMA were some exhibitions I had seen but not written about previously, including the portrait photography exhibit Face of Our Time. I usually don’t go for straight-out portrait work, but these mostly large images worked in the context of the other exhibits at the museum.

I did take note of the abstract and whimsical sculpture of Ranjani Shettar. Her work combines modern technologies and traditional Indian craft techniques, but with none of the nostalgia or adherence to cultural stereotypes that often dominates Indian art, at least as it is presented in this country. Her sculptures do have a very naturalistic quality, reminiscent of much contemporary work in the western U.S.

Last Thursday was also the First Thursday open galleries in downtown San Francisco for April (this year is going by so fast, isn’t it?). I should first recognize Trevor Paglen, who was showing both at SFMOMA as a SECA Art Award recipient, and at the Altman Siegel Gallery. It is quite a coincidence to see the same artist at two venues in a single week.

Perhaps my favorite show was Ema H Sintamarian at the Jack Fischer Gallery. Her drawings/paintings consisted of surreal, curving architectural elements, with an almost cartoonish quality. Bright colors and shapes against a white background.

The show by South African artist Lyndi Sales was intricate and very meticulous, work digital cuttings of found and printed objects – it was also a poignant tribute to her father’s death in the Hederberg crash.

Portraits seem to sneak their way into many of my experiences this week, with Gao Yuan’s “12 Moons”, a series of photographs with a Chinese take on the “Madonna and Child” theme. She was featured at MOCA Shanghai last year in 2008 (MOCA was of course closed the main weekend I was there).

Susan Grossman presented chalk and pastel drawings of photographs, that quickly revealed themselves to be familiar scenes of San Francisco. The black-and-white coloring and soft edges also serve as a fitting close to an article that begin with the soft charcoal drawings of William Kentridge, even if the subject matter could not be more different.

Museum of Broken Relationships

On Saturday (the 14th), a friend and I visited the Museum of Broken Relationships, which is currently at Root Division here in San Francisco. The museum was founded in Zagreb, Croatia in 2006, “dedicated to broken hearts”:

The Museum of Broken Relationships is an art concept which proceeds from the assumption that objects possess integrated fields – ‘holograms’ of memories and emotions – and intends with its layout to create a space of ‘secure memory’ or ‘protected remembrance’ in order to preserve the material and nonmaterial heritage of broken relationships.

It has toured several countries – this is its debut in the United States.

The museum is built of donated artifacts, each with an anonymous story about the relationship it represented. There was a large variety of artifacts, such as the handcuffs in the poster shown above. There lots of love notes, the most interesting was one that was pasted to a mirror which was then shattered and the pieces cut out and encased in glass. There was also a large number of stuffed toys, such as Valentin below:

Some more toys, a prosthetic hand and a wedding dress:

There were a surprising number of prosthetic body parts on display, including the hands shown above and a leg with an interesting story. The story for the wedding dress can also be found online here.

The stories are as diverse as the artifacts themselves. Many of the standard broken-relationship variety: “it wasn’t meant to be” or “over the years we drifted further apart.” Some involved tragic events, the death of one or the other parter in the relationship.

One image that was rather sad involved a small painting of the Sesame Street character Grover. It was painted as an affectionate handmade gift to someone who kept a stuffed version of Grover, but the recipient then dismissed this gift as “childish.”

A funny piece was a set of shot glasses donated by someone in San Francisco (there were several local pieces donated), with the tag line “PS: his name is Larry and he is an asshole.”

The evening opening was actually quite crowded. I suppose I should not have been surprised so see so many people out to celebrate broken hearts on Valentines Day. However, judging from the attire of many of the visitors, they were stopping here either on the way to or the way from a romantic dinner. Or maybe this event was their “date”, as there was plenty of food and drink provided.

There was a brief performance piece involving an accordion and a dancer in a symbolic tying and unraveling of knots. It was rather difficult to see or here, given the density of the crowd.

Root Division does seem to have some interesting exhibits. Next month is an exhibit dedicated to algorithms, mathematics and problem solving. Now attempting to relate that back to broken hearts…