Terminals Liner Notes for LP
Bobby
Previte’s Terminals proposes a simple
idea: that the percussion ensemble is actually an ideal vehicle for the 21st
century concerto. Writing for percussion allows the composer free reign to grab
the flotsam of sounds and ideas that have floated through his life. He’s a drummer, and so the choice of percussion
seems natural. But anybody
who knows Bobby’s music knows that drums are just a part of the equation, the
instrument that spoke to him earliest and strongest.
Terminals is a compendium of ideas
that – though the percussion ensemble itself is young in the context of western
music history – also have sentimental resonance. The sheer magnitude of orchestration recalls the huge
mid-century novelty percussion orchestras, or the clashing and wailing of
Edgard Varese’s Ionisation. Bobby knows these references well, and
he celebrates the spirit of joy and chaos that they conjure. Some of his compositional choices – a
swing-era drum battle, an abrupt break into slow blues, VERY long rhythmic
vamps – would feel awkward or contrived in the hands of other contemporary
composers. But Bobby has lived
these musical moments deeply: in Terminals,
they form a coherent viewpoint.
We half-joke
with him that he is our favorite marimbist of all time because of his inspired
contribution to Tom Waits’ song “Clap Hands” on the album Rain Dogs. His career
spans an incredible breadth, including collaborations with the soloists on this
record. But Terminals also intersects
with an earlier phase of his life, as a student of the influential percussion teacher
Jan Williams at the University of Buffalo. Jan opened the door for Bobby to a whole world of
avant-garde concert music: the percussion experiments of John Cage and Lou
Harrison from the 1930’s, the hard-edged modernism of Pierre Boulez, the
uniquely serene assemblages of Morton Feldman.
This
early exposure seems to have had an impact on him: Terminals is an ambitious statement in the vein of those bold
composers. This big statement is
made using percussion, but not in the way Cage and Varese used it for their
youthful radical gestures. Bobby’s
percussion statement feels more like a summation than a revolution, a
repository of decades of thinking about these instruments.
“How much of that did you make up, and how much was written down?”
This
is the question we are asked at almost every So Percussion concert, one we’re
happy to answer. That ambiguity means we’re doing our job. It comes at the threshold where predetermined
and spontaneous ideas blend together.
A good classical performer, though he or she is often playing prescribed
notes, is striving for that balance with every performance.
In
Mozart and Beethoven’s time, the concerto soloist was partially an improvising
soloist. The cadenza was a bravura display not only of technical ability, but
also of imagination and spontaneity.
The way that Bobby weaves masters of contemporary improvisation into the
fabric of Terminals may at first seem
like another cross-genre experiment. But actually, his combination of sturdy,
crafted ensemble writing with careful curation of the soloists’ talents is one
of the oldest formulas we have.
And
what soloists! The first time we
performed Terminal 3 with Nels Cline, I actually forgot to play for a few bars
because I was so enraptured by what he could do. In live shows, John Medeski’s climactic entrance on the
organ always electrifies the room.
It is a credit to
Bobby’s composition and the soloists’ artistry that I’m always listening to
this record wondering “what is improvised, and what is fixed?” The happy truth is that it hardly
matters, because in this universe good ideas are simply good ideas, no matter
whether they jump off the page or directly out of the fertile minds of the
musicians.
Working
with Bobby on Terminals was
exhilarating and revelatory. Traipse
out in front of the audience to perform a clichéd, deadpan stick-clicking
routine? Not on your life, but for
you Bobby ok, because somehow it will work. Learn to crack a bullwhip, because that’s what the
Buddy-Rich-Gene-Krupa drum battle section requires? You’re insane, but yes, we trust you. Interrupt the fourth movement with a
duet between washboard and spoons, or spend ten minutes performing no other
action than setting up a whole drum kit on stage? Why the hell not, at this point?
Bobby
pushed us beyond our boundaries. In preliminary meetings about Terminals we told him we’re a touring
group, so really he should stay away from instruments like chimes, timpani,
huge drum setups, and a thousand pesky accessory instruments. This is of course exactly what he ended
up using.
His
winning combination of dogged conviction and convivial humor always helped us
jump over the next hurdle. Very
few composers can ask so much while also making you feel so invested.
-
Adam Sliwinski, Sō Percussion
