Source: Point of Departure.
Page One: a column by Bill Shoemaker
Mark Dresser: New Sounds, New Platforms: an interview with Troy Collins
The Book Cooks:
Claude Ranger: Canadian Jazz Legend
(Mark Miller; Toronto 2017)
Ezzthetics: a column by Stuart Broomer
The Art of Conduction: A Conduction Workbook: a review by Taylor Ho Bynum
Jumpin’ In: a column by Greg Buium
Moment’s Notice: Reviews of Recent Recordings
Source: The New York Times.
Mr. Berger and his wife, the vocalist Ingrid Sertso, have been holding C.M.S. workshops since the early 1970s. They founded the organization in Woodstock as a haven for expressionist improvising and cross-pollination between global musical cultures. With a year-round educational program, C.M.S. became a beloved creative breeding ground two hours north of New York City. But by the late 1980s, with grant funding drying up, it was virtually defunct.
In the past five years, though, life has flooded back into the organization thanks to the efforts of a new executive director, Rob Saffer, and a network of C.M.S. veterans who have happily come out of the woodwork. Sensing a new chapter, Mr. Berger and Ms. Sertso have decided that it is time to pass the artistic reins to new hands.
Kasper Toeplitz (b .1960), the Polish-born composer currently residing in Paris, began his career in the 1980s writing for traditional acoustic orchestral instruments. To be sure, his influences were drawn from the outer edges of the Western art music tradition—he’s named the examples provided by Giacinto Scelsi, Gyorgi Ligeti and Iannis Xenakis as having played a significant formative role in his early work. But a 1997 trip to Japan brought about a shift in in focus. While in Japan he engaged in improvisation and collaborated with Merzbow and Tetsuo Furudate, and put together what he describes as a “big noise orchestra” that toured Japan and Europe. At around this time he also formed Le Dépeupleur, a laptop duo with Zbigniew Karkowski, and became involved in composing textural works using the computer not only as a compositional tool but as an instrument for live performances. Amas is one such work, consisting in a single hour-plus long accumulation of sound in which largely unpitched noise is summed and built up into a substantial, thickly-textured mass. The piece is in essence a gradual electronic crescendo-decrescendo in which bands of noise spread out over a wide compass, starting with a low frequency rumble and working their way through to a trebly static. A seemingly long way away from an acoustic ensemble, perhaps, but a not-unrecognizable heir to the sound-block experiments of Toeplitz’s early inspirations.