On Mario Davidovsky’s Quartetto #4

Like many of those who knew him and his work, I have been thinking of Mario Davidovsky often since his passing on August 23. Nothing speaks more powerfully than the music itself, but since counter)induction has been such a strong advocate for his music, and we have a platform on which to explore and share ideas, I wanted to take this opportunity to spend time listening to a c)i performance of one his pieces that I wasn’t previously very familiar with, and discovered their excellent live recording of his Quartetto #4 for clarinet and string trio. 

c)i’s performance of Davidovsky’s Quartetto #4 for clarinet, violin, viola, and cellos beautifully captures many of the hallmarks that I listen for when I hear his music. His characteristic electronic music type analogues that he “re-orchestrated” for acoustic instruments are tightly woven and spring to life like sonic Rube Goldberg machines. Some great examples: the composite gesture of a Bartok pizzicato revealing a sustained tone at :18, creating a hybrid timbre; at 8:17 the high squeals followed by a skittering downward murmur

In Quartetto #4, this motivic journey is heard most clearly through the evolution of the clarinet’s voice, which frequently retreats back to somber material between more active sections. In the introduction, Davidovsky lays out many of the characters that will be developed later in the piece, the whole of the commedia deIl’arte as he liked to say. Melodrama and sudden expressions of extroversion are very much a feature of his music and the players execute these with requisite energy but retain precision. I’ve noticed a consistent pattern in Davidovsky’s music of tempering those outbursts with introverted material directly afterward. We hear this in the contrast between the climactic material from ca. 10:00-10:36 and the tender music that directly follows, or also in the subsequent passionate passage from 10:55 to 11:24 and the eerie calm of the lone clarinet that comes on its heels. This ability to turn on a dime really makes Davidovsky’s music come alive and gives dimension to the multi-layered expressive component in his music. c)i’s performance is a compelling version of a powerfully lyrical piece that is late Davidovsky chamber writing at its best.

man can embody truth but he cannot know it

Miranda Cuckson, violinist
Miranda Cuckson, violinist

c)i will be performing the trio version of the suite from Stravinsky’s A Soldier’s Tale on Sunday, and so I’ve been thinking a bit about the piece (and his music more generally). Music is always an abstraction, due to its temporality– it is through memory that form and rhythm and harmony are experience, as associations between present and past (and future) events. And (some of) Stravinsky’s music (some of it) gets tagged as being cold or bloodless. But always at the same time it is about the body, it is in the body, savagely and unavoidably.

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Shadows aren’t mirrors

theisenc)i is excited to be performing a work by Alan Theisen for the first time – he’s on faculty at Mars Hill College near Asheville, North Carolina.  Some of you may know that I am on a long sabbatical, and I’m living down in NC;  I got to know his music as started getting to know musicians in this corner of the world. (Ah, soundcloud, my late night friend.)  When I heard Ondes et Ombres it struck me as a good fit for the 3x2x2x3 show that we were developing, both immanently as a piece and as a trio that would stand as one of the bookends of the program, contrasting Stravinsky’s masterful The Soldier’s Tale. (Apologies for the linkage, Alan; I went through a few years with c)i where I kept ending up on programs immediately after Crumb or Bartok, and so I was officially the hack-composer on the show…) 

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Playing together


As I hinted at in the previous post, our programs this year have a factorial element: 3×2, 2×3; 2×2, 2×4, 1×5; and 1×1, 3×4, 1×5. The repertoire, the staging, the all sorts are organized around these refracting relations and in doing so makes us notice the other, subtler elements of this calculus of performance, the performers. What it is to be Ning playing with Miranda, or Miranda with Ning? What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba? Quite a bit, I think.

We could say that playing-together is a special category of being-together. Ben performs. But in performing Ben is also Benjamin-clarinetist. And in that being, he participates in the community that is clarinet-being. Add to other players and a bunch of composers (living or passed) and things get rather more complicated– clarinet being has a relationship to Stravinsky, as does Benjamin-the-clarinetist, as does Ben. There are always a lot of ways to be together, manners of enmeshment made kaleidoscopically beautiful through the ritual of performance. Continue reading “Playing together”

Feyerabend and counterinduction.


Ok, so, the name: “counter)induction” sometimes confuses people, and that’s understandable. It’s a negative, it’s an abstract, and it doesn’t seem to have much to do with music, or sound, or making art.  It’s logic, though, is a logic of creation. Counterinduction as a term is coined by philosopher and ‘scientific anarchist’ Paul Feyerabend; counterinduction is the opposite of induction, it is not doing something that is illogical; rather it is doing the opposite of what is logical.  It is not an ill-advised choice, it is the choice that most strongly stands against all advisements. Continue reading “Feyerabend and counterinduction.”