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LUCKY NUMBERS: George Crumb's Black Angels includes touches
of the occult. |
CLASSICAL
MUSIC PREVIEW
HELL'S
STRINGS
Third Angle performs
an epic piece that pierces the dark soul of America.
BY BILL SMITH
243-2122 ext. 310
"There were
terrifying things in the air," said composer George Crumb in 1990,
looking back at the world that inspired his haunting piece. "They
found their way into Black Angels."
Black Angels
is Crumb's jarring Vietnam War lament for string quartet. Responding
to the media images of American involvement
in Vietnam brought into American homes each evening, Crumb attempted
to capture in music the horror of the Tet Offensive, the My Lai
Massacre and the stateside murders of Kent State protesters.
Since its premiere
in 1970, the work's emotional power and unconventionality have inspired
many chamber musicians. David Harrington, upon hearing it, founded
the Kronos Quartet. For violinist Ron Blessinger, whose Third Angle
New Music Ensemble will perform Black Angels this week, the
work represents "tortured voices of the soul that we instinctively
try to relate to." It's an apt turn of phrase for Crumb's isolated
personal howl against man's inhumanity to man.
The work scored
for "Electric String Quartet" (Third Angle's musicians will mike
their instruments and use guitar amps) bubbles up from the blood
mire of the war. From simulated whirring chopper blades ("electric
insects") to plucks of Vietnamese folk music, the piece uses Vietnam,
in Crumb's words, as a "parable on our troubled world." The finished
score bears two inscriptions: in tempore belli (Latin for
"in time of war") and the ominous "Finished on Friday the Thirteenth,
March, 1970."
The latter isn't
the only bit of ancient occultism that veils the work. Crumb sought
to tap into universal archetypes, the spiritus mundi of man's
spiritual consciousness. The subtitle "Thirteen Images from the
Dark Land" hints at the overarching numerology that runs throughout.
The work's trinity of movements--titled "Departure," "Absence" and
"Return"--outline man's "fall from grace, spiritual annihilation
and redemption," Crumb says. These titles are further divided into
13 brief fragments (the shortest is 40 seconds, the longest, just
three minutes). Each fragment is dissected alternately into 13 or
seven pitches within 13 or seven measures--13 and seven being the
numerological equivalents of the Devil and God. For a final Good
vs. Evil effect, there are moments throughout the score of ritual
counting in a Pentecost of languages from German to Swahili.
The musicians
bang gongs, bow water-tuned crystal glasses, trill their instruments
with thimbles, glass rods and paper clips, and vocally click, chant
and whistle. Quotes from Schubert's Death and the Maiden
quartet, the Dies Irae from the Latin Mass and Tartini's
Devil's Trill give us brief glimmers of conventional tonality.
Though played without pause, there is a wealth of silence in Black
Angels, and it's this silence that creates its unique tension
and suspense.
The 15-minute
work is undoubtedly unsettling. As Blessinger says: "It addresses
our separation from God. We were on the wrong path and we had to
confront our dark side to get back."
As difficult
as it may be, Crumb's Black Angels tries to help us negotiate
the journey.
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