radio rewrite / steve reich. 2012

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKOTq5iTDHw&w=625&h=352]

Radio Rewrite, composed by Steve Reich. Performed by Ensemble Offspring for Extended Play, City Recital Hall Sydney, 24th August 2018.

“As part of Sydney’s first ever 12 hour micro-festival (in the style of Bang on a Can’s legendary New York marathons) Ensemble Offspring performs the music of Steve Reich in the stunning acoustic of City Recital Hall.”

#BangOnACan #contemporaryMusic #EnsembleOffspring #ExtendedPlay #music #musica #musicaContemporanea #RadioRewrite #SteveReich
Steve Reich – Radio Rewrite (2012)

YouTube
Anna Clyne: ‘I have never been afraid of a good melody’

With her ever-melodious and energetic music, British-American Anna Clyne is one of the most performed composers of our time. In the Netherlands, her music has been played by the Royal Concertgebouw…

Contemporary Classical - Thea Derks

Evan Ziporyn: Ik zie een kruisbestuiving tussen Nederland en Amerika

13-11-2012 Den Haag – Het Korzo Theater brengt komend weekend voor de tweede keer het minifestival New York comes to The Hague, rond het Amerikaanse ensemble Bang on a Can. Tijdens de eerste editie in 2010 was dit avontuurlijke gezelschap ook al te gast en ik sprak hierover met klarinettist Evan Ziporyn, die er overigens zojuist uit is gestapt.

Zijn 100 30-second Pieces for Two Pianos zal in Korzo in première worden gebracht door het pianoduo X88, bestaande uit Saskia Lankhoorn en Vicky Chow, pianiste van Bang on a Can. Zij maken in dit festival hun debuut. Op het programma staat ook The Body is an Ear van de Australisch-Nederlandse Kate Moore, een arrangement voor twee piano’s van het gelijknamige stuk voor orgel uit 2011.

Mijn interview met Evan Ziporyn verscheen op Muziekvan.nu Helaas is de site uit de lucht gehaald.

#BangOnACan #EvanZiporyn #KateMoore #KorzoTheater #SaskiaLankhoorn #TheaDerks #VickyChow

Kate Moore Music

Composer Sound Art Music

Kate Moore Music

Julia Wolfe: ‘Anthracite Fields is my emotional response to the coal mining history’

Even before I’ve asked one question, Julia Wolfe (1958) blazes away into an enthusiastic account of her multimedia oratorio Anthracite Fields. ‘It took me a year of research, reading, talking to people, visiting museums, going down into mining shafts and what have you. And I tell you, the visuals are a whole different level! Jeff Sugg did the same research and illuminates the story with these very slow, moving projections, incredibly powerful.’

In Anthracite Fields Wolfe zooms in on Pennsylvania coal mining life around the turn of the 20th century. She based her libretto on oral history, interviews, speeches, geographic descriptions, children’s rhymes and coal advertisements. She composed it for the Bang on a Can All Stars and the Mendelssohn Club of Philadelphia. They premiered it in 2014 to rave reviews; a year later it was awarded the Pulitzer Prize. On 2 July Anthracite Fields will have its Dutch première in the Dutch Choir Biennale, with Daniel Reuss conducting Bang on a Can, Cappella Amsterdam and Utrechtse Studenten Cantorij in Muziekgebouw aan ‘t IJ Amsterdam.

First ever commission from home state

It all started when conductor Alan Harler of the Mendelssohn Club asked Wolfe to write a new piece for them. ‘I was quite excited, for it was the first ever commission from my home state: I was born and raised in Montgomeryville Pennsylvania. The choir is based in Philadelphia, but the singers are from across the north-eastern part of the state. Some of them drive all the way down from the coal mining area around Scranton, not so far away from where I grew up. I decided to make our common heritage the subject of an evening long piece, similar to Steel Hammer about the legendary steel driving man John Henry.’

The commissioners gave Wolfe all the support she could wish for. ‘They even teamed me up with a guide to show me the region, Laurie McCants. She’s a theatre person who had made some pieces on subjects pertaining to the region, and had already conducted a lot of research herself. She happened to be a big Bang on a Can fan and we even had some friends in common. Each time I travelled down to Scranton from New York, she’d come and pick me up at the bus station and drive me around.’

Labour history

The idea to look into the life of coal miners came natural to Wolfe, who took classes in social sciences while at college. ‘I’ve always been interested in labour history, and Steel Hammer was the first work of this kind. It was based on the John Henry ballad about a man who dug a tunnel for the railroad but was outdone by a machine. That piece is more mythical, Anthracite Fields is purely based on facts, it’s a form of poetic history. It’s a kind of study and an emotional response to the anthracite coal mining industry in Pennsylvania.’

Wolfe grew up near, not in the coal mining area, which had a mysterious appeal to her as a child. ‘My grandmother was from Scranton, her parents ran a grocery store there. She moved to Philadelphia as soon as she got a chance, from where my parents later moved to Montgomeryville. I spent most of my childhood on a dust road, surrounded by woods. We would regularly drive out to go to concerts or have dinner in a restaurant. Once you got to the 309 you could either turn left to Scranton or right to Philadelphia. We mostly took the right road. I knew the Pocono Mountains were up left, but my parents never explored into that direction.’

Blacker than pitch

During her research Wolfe visited the Pennsylvania Anthracite Heritage Museum in McDade Park in Scranton: ‘It was amazing! You wind down country roads and then find this tiny little museum in the middle of nowhere. It depicts everything about the industry and what the life was there. Three fantastic historians walked me around, explaining, showing slices of earth, photographs, geographical diagrams and other exhibits. Jeff Sugg went there as well. At first he thought he might not use any photographs, because it would be too direct. But they are so beautiful that he wound up incorporating them, along with maps of the region, advertisements and all kinds of other things. His visuals are stunning.’

Wolfe also descended into several mine shafts: ‘Retired miners take you all the way down to the lower part of the earth in this little cart-train-thing, following the original track they formerly used themselves. Once you get to the bottom the guys will walk you through different tunnels and passageways. For them it used to be their daily life, not a fun thing of course, but it’s very beautiful. The walls are shiny, there are these little medical aid stations in case something happened and they have something setup so you can see the scale and how far in they worked. The shafts are lit, but at one place they turn off the lights to make you experience how dark it gets. It’s pitch black! Darker than anything I know, even being in the country when there’s no city lights or anything.’

Image from Anthracite Fields

Eerie whistling

Finding herself in these under-earthly surroundings, sounds and ideas inevitably popped into her mind. ‘When you’re hunting and gathering, you become hyper aware. Some things wound up in the piece as a response to what I saw visually, others are sounds that actually belong to that place. Different gasses escaping, an alarm going off that set everybody hurrying out of the mines. There were all kinds of dangers, and my music reflects on the experience of the workers.’

At several moments in Anthracite Fields we hear eerie whistling. Wolfe: ‘That’s a poetic response. I imagined a sort of cavernous sound, caused by the wind. In Steel Hammer there’s also some whistling, but there it’s a fragment of a tune. Here it’s odd, because the singers have to make harmonies out of it. They are used to finding the pitches singing, but getting the right pitch whistling is a bit more of a challenge. And these are not regular harmonies, but rather more unusual, dissonant ones. This was a new thing for me, I’d never written that kind of sound before.’

Aural memorial list

The whistling occurs for the first time in ‘Foundation’. While Bang on a Can create an inferno of heavy pounding and drilling, the chorus recites names. ‘I came across this Pennsylvania index of mining accidents. Pages and pages of names – of people who didn’t necessarily die, but were definitely injured. I decided to make an aural equivalent of the many powerful visual memorial lists I’ve seen. But there were so many names! So first I just took the one-syllable ones like John and Frank, but there were still too many, so I focussed on the Johns and also got rid of the two-syllable last names. Sung in hoquet: John Ash, John Ayres, John Cain you get a very strong, rhythmic chant. Towards the end I also use some more colourful names, like Sylvester Sokoski, Lino Tarinella, Premo Tonetti; many of the miners were immigrants.’

Setting their names was a demanding affair. Wolfe: ‘The names belong to people who were someone’s grandfather, father, brother or uncle. It’s important the choir should be aware of this, without over-emotionalizing. The interesting thing is, in every city in the States where we’ve performed Anthracite Fields people are responding. We had a performance in Los Angeles and I was like: there’s no coal mining out there. But afterwards someone came up to me and said: my grandfather is on the list! That was chilling. I asked what’s his name? And she said John Coyne – an unusual spelling indeed. These are such incredible moments, to actually meet the live people. For us it’s music, for them it’s family history!’

2 July, Muziekgebouw aan ‘t IJ Amsterdam 3 pm
Julia Wolfe: Anthracite Fields

 

#AnthraciteFields #BangOnACan #CappellaAmsterdam #DanielReuss #JuliaWolfe #Kooribiënnale #MuziekgebouwAanTIJ #SteehHammer

Violinist Monica Germino plays MUTED: ‘I feel like the cat Mehitabel, on the threshold of a new career’

Monica Germino with selection of mutes (c) Anna Reinke

On Sunday 21 July Monica Germino will play MUTED in the festival Wonderfeel. This piece was composed for her by Louis Andriessen and the composers of Bang on a Can when she was diagnosed with hyperacusis, a hearing disorder that makes her oversensitive to sound. In May Monica Germino also played MUTED in the festival dedicated to Louis Andriessen’s 80th birthday in Muziekgebouw aan ‘t IJ. I then interviewed her about her relationship with Andriessen and about her new ‘whisper violin’ for the Dutch music magazine Luister.

The first time Monica Germino played music by Louis Andriessen was in 1994, during the premiere of his opera Rosa in the Muziektheater in Amsterdam. A year earlier she had met him personally when she came to the Netherlands with a scholarship. ‘But in the spirit I had met him before’, says the violinist in her living room with a view of the Amstel river. ‘This was during my master’s degree at Yale. He had been a guest lecturer there a few years earlier and the students couldn’t stop talking about it. One of them said: are you going to the Netherlands? Then you must visit Louis Andriessen! And gave me his phone number.’

Something like that seemed a trifle too cheeky to her, because Andriessen was an icon to her. ‘I had heard a performance of De Staat at Yale and was blown off my socks. I was a Stravinsky fanatic and had played almost all his works for violin, from the Violin Concerto to the string quartet and In memoriam Dylan Thomas, and suddenly I heard the sound that comes after Stravinsky. I thought: this is it! This is the music I’ve been looking for, this is necessary music.’

Once in the Netherlands to investigate study possibilities, it quickly started to itch: ‘I just needed to know more about modern music in this country. I called Louis and he immediately invited me to come to café De Jaren that same evening. There I also met some of his former students, including Calliope Tsoupaki, Ron Ford and David Dramm. They were very nice and gave a lot of tips. Louis advised me to study with Vera Beths at the Royal Conservatoire in The Hague.’

She eagerly followed all advice and a year later she moved to Amsterdam. When she happened to meet Andriessen at a concert and greeted him enthusiastically he looked at her somewhat mystified. ‘He had no idea who I was, while making his acquaintance had been life changing for me.’ She heartily laughs about it now. ‘At our next meeting he proposed to play Bach Sonatas together.’

‘As a typical American, ambitious student I immediately bought all the scores, listened to authentic recordings and studied baroque embellishment. But when a month and a half later I announced that I was ready, he reacted with a bit of surprise.’ Rehearsing together turned out to be a hit: ‘Louis played the piano beautifully and in the meantime shouted instructions: here comes a beautiful bass note! I learned as much from this as from listening to those recordings of early music.’

When Andriessen worked on Passeggiata in America in 1998 in tram e ritorno for voice, violin and ensemble, however, he did not think of Germino. He asked Rosita Wouda of the Schönberg Ensemble for advice, in which I occasionally played. She replied: why don’t you ask Monica? – I had already developed a fanaticism to produce the typical Andriessen sound, which I describe as a super-legato. A pure, vibration-free sound, without swelling or letting go of the bow, as if there were glue on the strings. I was overjoyed when I received a phone call to premiere Passeggiata.’

This also introduces her to the Italian voice artist Cristina Zavalloni, for whom Andriessen had composed the vocal part. ‘We rehearsed in Louis’ attic and it clicked immediately. It was as if we were one person, we even used the same body language. Cristina became a dear friend, who many years later would be our witness when Louis and I married.’ The 1999 premiere was a success and inspired Andriessen to produce the large-scale double concerto La Passione, which was also performed in the festival dedicated to him.

Unfortunately no longer with a solo role for Germino, who now suffers from hyperacusis, a hypersensitivity to sound. A personal drama, because Germino, who often works with electronics and was once known as the ‘loudest violinist in the Netherlands’, now has to drastically reduce the decibels.

When she was diagnosed at the end of 2015, she considered giving up playing entirely, but the composers of Bang on a Can put a stop to that. ‘No way’, Michael Gordon decided, ‘I’m going to write the softest piece ever for you.’ Julia Wolfe reacted dryly when Germino told her she had said goodbye to her violin: ‘Then say hello again!’ David Lang looked her piercingly in the eye: ‘I see this as a huge opportunity!’

The three of them proposed to make a joint composition with their mentor Louis Andriessen. Neil Wallace, then programmer at De Doelen, came to the rescue. He organised a composition assignment together with four other organisations, which led to the four-part MUTED. In a combination of mutes and four different instruments, the limits of audibility are explored. Germino premiered it to great acclaim in October 2018 as part of of the New York Philharmonic’s festival The Art of Andriessen,

One of the instruments is a ‘whisper violin’ that Marcel Wanders and Bas Maas specially designed and built for Germino. This is inspired by the so-called pochette violin by baroque dance masters. The neck has the shape of a raised finger: shush! The sound is naturally ultra-soft, but can be further muffled by placing stops in the sound box.

In this way, Germino turns her handicap into a virtue. ‘I am very grateful. So many people have helped me on this difficult road. I feel like the cat Mehitabel from the movement that Louis composed for MUTED. She had a bad life, always fell in love with the wrong males but still stayed afloat, like a Grande Dame. Thus I’m on the threshold of a new career myself.’

#BangOnACan #LouisAndriessen #MarcelWanders #MonicaGermino #MUTED #SamBaas #Wonderfeel

Anna Clyne: ‘I have never been afraid of a good melody’

With her ever-melodious and energetic music, British-American Anna Clyne is one of the most performed composers of our time. In the Netherlands, her music has been played by the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra and Phion, and last September saw the release of the CD Abstractions by the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra conducted by Marin Alsop.

Anna Clyne (c) Victoria Stevens

American media call her ‘fearless’ and praise her ‘unusual gifts and methods’. This is not surprising, as the music of Anna Clyne (London, 1980) navigates between extremes of lush, tranquil lyricism, breathtakingly pure vocal lines à la Purcell and harsh orchestral passages full of ‘barbaric’ rhythms à la Stravinsky. All this is spiced with repetitive motifs from minimalism, the drive of rock music and fragments of folk music from different corners of the world. 

Art and poetry

When composing, she likes to draw inspiration from works of art and poetry, and she regularly collaborates with choreographers, filmmakers and visual artists. In 2021, she wrote the poignant Between the Rooms for soprano and string quintet for LA Opera about life in isolation, inspired by her experiences during the coronavirus lockdown and the life of the American poet Emily Dickinson (1830-1886). This short film opera with choreographer Kim Bandstrup had its world premiere in 2022. Two years later, Nicolas Blanc used her equally exciting cello concerto DANCE as the starting point for his choreography Gateway to the Sun at the San Francisco Ballet. The new CD again testifies to Clyne’s love of the arts.

The five movements of Abstractions, after which the album is named, are inspired by works by five abstract artists. A delicate, organ-like orchestral texture accompanies the soft blue tones of Sara VanDerBeek’s digital print Marble Moon; we hear bright string swirls and thunderous brass in Julie Mehretu’s aquatint Auguries; lovely, Debussy-esque flutes and oboes echo the grey tones of Hiroshi Sugimoto’s photolithograph Caribbean Sea, Jamaica. The fierce turmoil of the first movement returns with Elsworth Kelly’s lithograph River II, and motifs curling up from the depths depict the intertwining lines of Brice Marden’s etching 3.   

Her interest in music, literature and art did not come out of nowhere, says Clyne: ‘I was an only child and although I did not grow up in a musical family, my parents did play records by bands such as Fleetwood Mac and the Doors. My father strummed songs like Yellow Submarine by the Beatles or This Land is Your Land by Woody Guthrie on his guitar, singing along perfectly out of tune. My mother was a midwife and amateur artist who cherished a deep love of painting and sculpting. When I was little, she made up tunes to nursery rhymes and poems; towards the end of her life, she started writing short stories and poetry. – When I was twelve, my parents took me to my first Proms concert at the Royal Albert Hall.’  

Happy coincidence        

She started piano lessons at the age of seven, thanks to a happy coincidence: ‘Friends gave us an upright piano with randomly missing keys in the upper register. My mother was a midwife for a woman whose husband, David, was a piano teacher. I soon started piano lessons with him, and I simultaneously began to compose my own music, and he allowed me space to explore my own musical imagination. We looked at chords and melodic ideas in my little notebook and he shared some harmonic and melodic tools. Thus began the journey of notating my first compositions, which I am always grateful for.’

https://youtu.be/tyQqTjlW4P4

‘At first it was just simple piano pieces (my very first being about the sea) and then I began to write duets to play with my other musician friends. I formed a band with one of my closest friends, Carla, who was a flautist. – We named our band the “Ice Blues”, after our favourite flavour of Jelly Belly – a recent import to the UK in the early nineties. It was as this band that I gave the first performance of my music at the Oxford Youth Prom when I was eleven years old. I played on an electric piano, which started to distort around the hall as soon as I struck the first note. Drily: ‘That was my first encounter with the phenomenon of electroacoustic music.’

Chalk dusters and Mars bars

She later went on to use electroacoustic processes in her compositions, but stopped doing so in her early twenties. The cello also came into her life by chance: ‘When I was nine, I received a letter from school offering group lessons for this instrument. When my mother asked if I wanted to take part, I jumped at the chance. I started shortly afterwards, with an extraordinarily eccentric teacher – chalk dusters were thrown for mistakes, and chocolate Mars bars for successes.’

‘Unlike composing, which I can do for hours on end, I have never been able to muster the discipline to study thoroughly. Nevertheless, I played the cello in school orchestras and the Brooklyn Symphony Orchestra when I moved to New York in 2002. I also performed in rock bands there, using a contact microphone and experimenting with a portable loop station. But the piano remains the most important instrument for me.’

‘I always start composing at my piano – still the upright instrument from my childhood, which has been faithfully accompanying me for twenty years now. Another dry aside: ‘For one of the flats I moved into in Brooklyn, the two front legs had to be sawn off because otherwise it couldn’t be carried up the stairs. They left a trail of sawdust behind and were neatly screwed back on upstairs.’

Edinburgh

Born in London, she grew up in Abingdon, a town south of Oxford. Yet she studied music and composition at the University of Edinburgh. Why so far away? Clyne: ‘After secondary school, I was actually going to study English in Birmingham, but I didn’t get the required A-level. I did get it for music, and coincidentally, Edinburgh had a place available. I took the train there and immediately fell in love with the city – such a vibrant arts scene! To my immense joy, they accepted me unconditionally.’

‘What I found most appealing was that the programme was so broad. Unlike at a conservatoire, we did everything: playing (piano and cello), composing, technology, teaching, music in the community, etc. It wasn’t until my third and fourth years that I began to focus on composition.’ Her teacher in Edinburgh was Marina Adamina from Georgia, but she also studied composition in Canada for a year through an exchange programme. She cherishes fond memories of her lessons with Adamina: ‘Marina encouraged me to crack open my music in terms of harmony and rhythm. During a stormy, bitterly cold winter, we played through my pieces on the piano at her home, where it was always warm.’

In terms of musical influences, Clyne identifies most with her fellow student composers, she says: ‘We organised concerts together in local art galleries, clubs and concert halls, and we also played each other’s music. And then there were groundbreaking composers who had a huge influence on me. I will never forget hearing Arvo Pärt’s Fratres for the first time on the radio in Edinburgh. As a cellist, and because I have played some of Bach’s cello suites, Bach has also been an important source of inspiration for me and my music. I am inspired, too, by Steve Reich and the New York post-minimalist scene with composers such as Julia Wolfe, Michael Gordon and David Lang, founders of Bang on a Can.’

New York

In 2002, she moved to New York for postgraduate studies at the Manhattan School of Music (MSN), where Julia Wolfe had just taken up a teaching position. ‘I was familiar with her work through recordings, performances, and a Bang on a Can Marathon concert, and I will never forget how the string quartet ETHEL gave an exciting performance of her amplified piece Dig Deep in a club in Manhattan.’

https://youtu.be/_qEjNu5Skhw

‘I immediately fell in love with the raw, driving energy and dynamic power of her music and was thrilled that our paths crossed at MSM. I enjoyed our lessons in her loft apartment in downtown Manhattan.’ We shared what we were working on at the time, or looked at Beethoven quartets. One of the most important things she taught me is to trust my intuition, which I also encourage in my own students. I always love to hear her music, especially her large-scale works. Julia really knows how to make an orchestra groove, and when I hear a performance of her music, I often think: yeah, I need more rock & roll in my music!’

After graduating in 2005, she applied for the Bang on a Can Summer Music Festival: ‘It’s a three-week festival for musicians and composers from all over the world, and I was accepted. That year, Steve Reich was the guest composer, and he invited us to share our pieces with him. I was far too shy to do so at the time, but when I met him again a few months later at a Bang on a Can concert, I plucked up the courage and gave him the score of <<rewind<< for orchestra and optional tape recording.’

‘To my surprise, not long after, I received an email with the subject line: you are a good composer. He gave me valuable feedback and offered to put me in touch with John Adams and Carnegie Hall, among others. We have always stayed in touch and recently collaborated on a project that will premiere in 2026 on his 90th birthday. One of the many things I admire about Steve’s music is that melody is at its heart. Whether it’s loops in his early tape pieces, hocket in his early piano works with phase shifts, or beautiful long melodic phrases in Proverb.’

Melody and pulse

Melody is a core element in her work. For a long time, melody was pretty much taboo in the world of modern music – as was a recognisable pulse, which she certainly doesn’t shy away from, either. What was it like during her studies? Clyne: ‘As a young composer, I enjoyed experimenting with different styles, but melody has always been central to me – even when it is hidden in the texture, as in <<rewind<<, or more openly present, as in my cello concerto DANCE. I have never been afraid of a good melody.’

https://youtu.be/La22CjPFbIY

‘I also feel very connected to the folk music of my ancestors, which is characterised by strong melodies. My maternal grandmother came from a farming family in Ireland, her husband was born and raised in London. My father’s family is Jewish and originally comes from Lviv, in what used to be Poland but is now Ukraine. The folk music of my Irish, English and Jewish roots is often present in my work, albeit subtly.’

Does she experience a relationship between melody and emotions? ‘Certainly, music, and therefore melody, is directly related to our emotions. As Tolstoy said: “Music is the shorthand of emotions: they are difficult to put into words, but are conveyed directly to people through music; therein lies its power and significance.” However, I do not specifically aim to evoke or express emotions. My goal is to share part of my imagination and take the audience on a musical journey – a momentary reprise from everyday life.’

Lamento

How does this apply to Within Her Arms, the opening piece on the CD, which she composed in 2008 after the death of her mother? ‘Although it is not my habit to express my feelings in my music, this is indeed a programmatic work. Immediately after arriving in England, I followed my instinct to process my grief through composition. I sat down at the piano with a recent photo of my mother and wrote the piece in 24 hours. Throughout the creative process, I felt very close to her.’

Within Her Arms is a thirteen-minute lamento for fifteen solo strings, which slowly circle through and around each other, expressing a sense of deeply felt sorrow, sometimes reminiscent of Barber’s Adagio. Perhaps not entirely coincidentally, this also happens to be one of her own favourites: ‘Although the initial music flowed spontaneously from me, I spent a lot of time on the details.’

‘I am proud of it because it perfectly reflects my background as a composer of electroacoustic music – many of the techniques I used in the studio (reverb, lengthening and shortening, pitch shifting, etc.) have been incorporated into my orchestration toolkit. This piece is so true to who I am.’

https://youtu.be/RuqmZKq7YZM

#AnnaClyne #ArvoPärt #BaltimoreSymphonyOrchestra #BangOnACan #JuliaWolfe #MarinAlsop #MarinaAdamina #SteveReich

🇺🇦 #NowPlaying on BBC #Radio3's #NightTracks Jeffrey Mumford & Bang on a Can: 🎵 pond within the drifting dusk #BBCRadio3 #JeffreyMumford #BangonaCan ▶️ 🪄 Automagic 🔊 show 📻 playlist on Spotify ▶️ Track on #Spotify:

pond within the drifting dusk
The Beeb 3's Night Tracks

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Spotify

Actual can banging from John Cage's Third Construction at Bang on a Can LOUD Weekend.

#BangOnACan @contemporarymusic

Sō Percussion performing Steve Reich's 1971 "Drumming" at the Bang on a Can LOUD Weekend last evening at Mass MoCA. Aurally mesmerizing, but visually like a kind of dance! 1/2

@contemporarymusic
#BangOnACan #MassMoCA #ModernClassical

One of the highlights of my musical life is coming up: Bang on a Can's LOUD Weekend at Mass MoCA in North Adams:

https://massmoca.org/event/bang-on-a-can-loud-weekend-2025/

It's from the evening of Thursday, July 31, through Saturday, August 2. So much music that at many times there is of a choice of what concert to go to.

#BangOnACan #MassMoCA #NorthAdams #ModernClassical

Bang on a Can: LOUD Weekend 2025 | MASS MoCA

The Bang on a Can Summer Music Festival has transformed MASS MoCA into a genre-bending musical utopia for innovative composers and performers for 24 of our 26 years. Over three weeks, every corner of our galleries and outdoor spaces will come alive with performances, workshops, and seminars focused on adventurous new music — culminating in

MASS MoCA | Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art