live audio interactive solo or+voice(s) or instruments

Recorded voices evoke fragments of text and syllables from Elias Canetti in his masterwork Masse und Macht, but which are not recognizeable as a poetic text in the context of the sound design.

Composer's note:  Deep beneath the surface of the Pacific lie hydrothermal vents that spew scalding water, laced with toxic minerals and gases, onto the near-freezing ocean floor. In the pitch-black depths, giant tube worms grow to a length of eight feet, protected from the harsh conditions by a tough outer shell. Having no mouth and no digestive tract, they host bacteria that convert minerals into food. The bacteria in turn receive food from the worm's blood-filled plumes, which exchange carbon dioxide, hydrogen sulfide, and other compounds with the seawater. A worm has no eyes, but somehow it can sense vibrations, which cause it to retract the plume into its shell. Imagine that you are hearing these vibrations.

Brown Velvet is a work for solo bassoon and live electronics. The work is both decrease and increase. There is a pedal (see below), that begins on the lowest pitch of the bassoon, Bb. Only overtones of that note are initially allowed in the bassoon part. The pedal then progressively “migrates” down to Bb-F-Bb-D-Bb, over two octaves, lower than any acoustic sound. At each new pedal, all overtones above it are allowed in the bassoon. So as a result, the descent (decrease) of the pedal allows ever greater harmonic richness (increase) within the bassoonist’s part. The pedal point is electronic. The version created by the composer is a Max/MSP patch, provided along with this score. (Instructions for the electronic player are included in the patch). But if one wishes to make another realization, it should be possible from the score and tunings provided within. It is important however that the pedal be real-time, i.e. not a pre-recorded part. The essence of the piece is a dialogue between the bassoonist and the “pedaler”, who will probably be performing from laptop.

Kati Gleiser, the pianist for whom I wrote Blue Traces, told me about swimming in the ocean at night and marveling at the colorful glow cast from bioluminescent plankton. Moving your arm disturbs the plankton, and in response they set off a bluish trail of soft light. This image gave me the idea for the piece: the piano plays, and the computer creates gently glowing traces of sound. Near the end, everyone becomes more agitated, as if the swimmer were now splashing around and the plankton reacting with more excitement.

All the computer sound comes from live sampling of the piano performance, transformed by various kinds of granulation — a technique that can take a short sound and extend it into a long sustained note.

Reliquary of Labor is a celebration of labor, construction and collaboration in all forms.