Sonic Revelations, Sonic Revolutions

It’s hard for me to find the words to write about this song, because it simply encompasses so much emotion. I find that a lot of John Luther Adams’ work makes me feel this way, which is part of the reason why this blog is so late (…I also forgot my password). The pure “white” notes of the song, and the ringing quality they have, taps into my heart’s mind, not my cerebral one. I did my timeline on this piece, and I think I will listen to it again when I need inspiration to write, because it really fueled my creativity–almost like it was the sound of new ideas popping against the surface. For example, at one particularly moving point in the piece, I could only describe it as the sound old photographs would make if they could communicate with each other. I heard images of windows against which there was rain or sometimes cloud or sun, and even though I had never been to Alaska except on layovers at Anchorage, I could feel the essential arcitc chill that had inspired Adams. Even in writing all this I’m not sure I’m doing justice to how much I appreciate his music, the way it brings me to the farthest place, and back.

Yeah, the corny backronym? I went there.

But that’s not the point. The point is, this guy is amazing. The way John Luther Adams takes you to another world, it’s as if he went into your brain (through your ears, of course) grabbed your brain, absconded with it to Alaska, and set it free amongst rolling waves of snow-covered hills for what seems like a small eternity.

The only times I remember being taken to a place so visually have been with the music of Louis Armstrong, James Taylor, Bob Marley, or Marvin Gaye. So JLA’s got some good company in his influence on me.

Obviously, as we’ve talked about in class, color is so important in JLA’s works. Adams has a keen sense of color, as if the keys on a piano were a pallete for him to work from, painting with different textures using dissonance, repetition, and a slow type of counterpoint that blend beautifully over the span of 12 or 16 minutes. Going on a walk, taking a journey, exploring these sounds — that’s what it feels like to listen to his pieces. The progression over time is so well orchestrated, I’ve got to hand it to him.

I made my timeline based off of Dream in White on White, which I believe utilizes the aforementioned tools so well.I discovered after the first listen that its structure on a large scale is cyclical; there’s a huge amount of repetition in that entire movements are paralleled by a permutation in the other half of the piece. It’s not completely palindromic, as there are differences in the sections played, but the resemblance is striking. What this does for the piece is give it a certain kind of order that might not necessarily be discovered on a 5-second level, but that’s what’s so great about this piece: Beyond the basic properties of “white notes”, what happens every few seconds is validated exponentially by what gets played in the 5, 10, 50, or 1000 second intervals before and after it. That kind of mathematical composition is something I admire greatly, both in its difficulty to accomplish and its execution. It’s pretty baller.

I must say that I truly enjoyed listening to JLA last weekend. For some reason I found his music incredibly deep and inspiring. In reading about him I learned about the influence his home in Alaska has on him. I could really see the frozen tundra of the north shining through some of his pieces. I saw this especially in “The Light That Fills the World.” The swirling drones of the higher registers combined with the rumbling bass created this very astral effect on me. It was a strange feeling that started in my hands and then kindof shook my body. In listening I could see myself watching something so naturally bazzar (however that’s spelled) as the Aurora Borealis. Which in itself connected with this song. There are all these high colors swirling in lines together creating this great painting in the sky, which is exactly what “The Light That Fills the World” did to me. I could hear all these colors combining and spackling together, as if I could actually see them. The ending of the piece was perfect. There is a slight climax of the deep rumbling of the bass, with the raindrops of the xylophonie instrument and the higher strings, that forced themselves upon each other, and then slowly peeled themselves off one by one as if it hurt a little animal. And that little animal is all that is left, whimpering away until the song ends. That one note sounded so perfect and crisp once it was left alone from all the other things that were piled on top of it.

In critique of the piece I must say it often became repetitive, repeating similar sections over again. Low bass rumbling, with some added higher drones followed by the wobbly jingles then change. Yes they were all slightly different than previous sections, but in terms of format these parts were often repeated one after another. However, it seemed to work out pretty well.

The first time I listened to Dark Waves 2 the piece totally defeated me.  There are so many layers to sift through that every time I honed in on one, I’d resurface later to find that everything around it had changed.  I ended up splitting this piece into three parts.  The first, lasting until about 3:00, gradually builds up to a climax, becoming thicker and thicker through the addition of voices to the sound, each one seeming sharper than the last.  At the end the sound flattens, paving the way for a new pattern, which lasts until 7:00.  The underlying sound of the first section gradually builds during the second, but a rippling pattern of notes is superimposed on the image, cutting through the darker sound of the lower register. During the end of the piece, the lower register fades in and out much faster than before.  The rippling patterns also seem more rounded, as opposed to the sharp sound they had earlier in the piece.  The electronic buzzes which permeate the piece seem all the more present during the end. Overall, I didn’t find the piece to be “Dark” or threatening in the sense of say, Uaxuctum.  I thought the underlying sonorities had a sort of warmth to them, which was cut by the cold, rippling patterns in the higher register.

There are some benefits to procrastination. In all honesty, I completed the readings this morning, and I am in no way apologetic, because of the snow.

I’m from Florida. Snow is new and fantastic and cold, and everyone I know is making fun of me for being so thrilled, because apparently it’s not “really snowing.” Listening to John Luther Adams again this morning, I realized: this is really snowy music. I was blown away by how perfectly wintery it was, and then I read the papers about how JLA’s purpose was to compose Alaska. This blew me away even more, because he had so exactly raised that image in my mind even when I had very little background knowledge of the music. You know when you completely adore something so much you can’t put it into words? I’m listening to The Light That Fills My World right now, and I feel exactly like that.  I think I’m going to walk around listening only to John Luther Adams for the rest of the winter. I am amazed, and enthralled, and hearing JLA’s work and staring out the window at the snow made my day. It was spectacular. It sounds so much like watching snow fall. The background stays the same and there is very little variation in the scene (some people walking by) but then the shimmer of the falling ice everywhere, and the patterns of the snowfall changing every second makes it stunning. I was never bored watching the snow fall or listening to John Luther Adams’ music.

The idea of composing places is also such an incredible idea to me. I wish I was more musical so I could try to compose Miami Beach, or Oberlin, or my aunt’s backyard. In the meantime, I’ll have to settle for listening to Alaska over and over again.

I listened to The Light That Fills The World a bunch the other day. That composition is truly a masterpiece in my eyes. It is one thing to write a pretty sounding piece of music, but JLAmakes those thirteen minutes perfect.The texture rises and falls with such grace. Its slow but steady undulating is truly organic and doesnot seem forced. In the past, I have had to force myself to truly picture a mental image when listening to a piece of music. THis piece truly took me to another place with ease.  His use of seemingly contrasting  or seldom combined instruments (marimba and strings) did not seem  self serving  or “out there” . Somehow the timbres fit just  right and made the piece unique yes easily accesible. Although there wereno fast runs or melodic development, the emotions thiw piece inspirede in me were porfound and deep. I felt a true longing for my weyoming home, for the sunrises over the mountains. I wanted to be there nd watch the light fill that world. The title was perfect. It embodied the true feel of the piece and the physical scene it set. JLA hit a homerun with this one and he did it with grace and beauty.

This piece is beautiful. Instead of the totally white plain in Alaska I feel more like being in a helicopter flying over endless mountains covered with trees. However, the crazy volume of the harp cannot fit them into the scene as springs. But if I were to perceive this as plains covered with snow, both the strings and the harps sound a little too harsh. When I was listening to the piece in class, I was wishing that either the strings would be more smooth or the harps could be more clear. I appreciate the layer of the strings, but only technically, the complicatedness of the strings make me think otherwise than snow or other smooth surfaces. I also like the sound of the harps, but the volume makes the harps becomes abrupt rather than crystal clear. But when I listened to it for the second time, things started to change. Nothing is perfect, even the seemingly unchanging snow-covered plain in Alaska has changes in terrain and has rocks all over it. I remembered my hometown where the temperature can also sometimes get to -30C in winter. The texture of the piece precisely describe what is actually there. While the color does not change, we see hills, dead trees, rocks , soil, snowflakes and even the sun that is lingering over the horizon far far away.  

As for the piece itself, I really love the strings part.  The texture is rich and expressive. The layers are more than just harmony sounds. Actually the notes sound a little awkward sometimes. But they really give people some kind of in-depth perception. Unlike the kind of (2-dimensional) music usually in movies that is used to lead people into horrible scenes, this sound surface really make people feel the vastity of the environment that the piece is trying to show. Also, at around 4:2o and 9:20, the increased pitch of the strings lifted the emotion of the piece. The harps part which is more or less the snowfall part for me. However, the harps bring life into the piece. Especially at around 7:16, the harps come in in a different way, not just four notes sectors, but they the dominating sound. The two harps are not playing harmoniously. Instead, they are played in a somewhat random way which is rather interesting. Like the snowflakes are flying in the air, beating the window, and falling to the ground. 

It’s beautiful and it’s really hard to describe with words. But this is definitely the piece that I’m going to return to again and again.