Concert Review: Horsegirl, Sweeping Promises and Godcaster at the Bottleneck

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

I dedicated Wednesday, August 6, to questioning my taste in music. Having struggled to formulate a conclusive opinion on Horsegirl’s latest album since offering an indecisive review of Phonetics On and On in February, I drove to Lawrence, Kansas, to hear the band at the Bottleneck.

The Dream Syndicate provided the soundtrack to my 40-mile drive toward the setting sun. I have an opportunity to attend a date by the reunited band during an upcoming trip to the West Coast. I liked the Dream Syndicate in the early ‘80s but I was surprised to find its psychedelic guitar rock now repulses me. I’ll pass on the upcoming tour.

Godcaster was on stage when I walked into the Bottleneck. (I paid $28 for a ticket in advance to be part of the audience of more than 200.) I initially thought the Brooklyn collective was the worst touring band I’d seen in years. Although an excess of musicians never stopped playing at crosspurposes, I eventually succumbed to Godcaster’s art-rock spell.

Unconvinced by Sweeping Promises’ recordings, I hadn’t previously bothered to catch the Lawrence based trio live. I get it now! Its two albums don’t come close to doing Sweeping Promises justice. The unapologetically geeky band’s riveting outing made me regret not attending Gang of Four’s show at Knuckleheads in May.

Horsegirl didn’t attempt to match the high voltage energy of Sweeping Promises. Nora Cheng and Penelope Lowenstein are such reticent frontpersons that the only sound during the breaks between several songs came from oblivious revelers at the venue’s exit.

Their aloofness may be warranted. Playing to an audience dominated by weird old men (ahem) who’d seen Horsegirl antecedent the Feelies perform at the same space in 1986 had to be disconcerting. My two takeaways: the trio’s songs were sadder than anticipated and its vocals were even more delectable than on record.

I listened to Richard Strauss’ "Simfonia Domestica" while driving home. Having recently read Barbara Tuchman’s essay about Strauss in The Proud Tower, I was eager to hear the composer’s poorly reviewed 1903 piece. For the first and only time on August 6, I agreed with the critical consensus.

Book Review: Time’s Echo: The Second World War, The Holocaust, and the Music of Remembrance, by Jeremy Eichler

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

My race against the clock becomes more urgent with each passing day. I’m committed to becoming as fully aware and completely realized as possible before I die.

Most of my free time is devoted to reading and deep listening. Jeremy Eichler’s new study Time’s Echo: The Second World War, The Holocaust, and the Music of Remembrance allowed me to indulge in both pursuits.

A combination of history and musicology, Eichler’s work focuses on four classical compositions inspired by the Shoah in the years before, during and after World War II.

Get this: I hadn’t previously heard any of them. Richard Strauss’ Metamorphosen, Arnold Schoenberg’s A Survivor or from Warsaw, Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem and Dmitri Shostakovich’s  Symphony No 13 (Babi Yar) came as shocking revelations.

I share Eichler’s conviction that music can act as a form of time travel as well as a metaphysical means to commune with the past. Having eagerly absorbed Time’s Echo, I’m able to use the portal with enhanced sophistication.

Concert Review: Damien Sneed at the Folly Theater

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

Knowing they’d be amused by my response, two cousins asked me what I’d been listening to when we chatted during a family gathering on Sunday, November 20.  I told them that in addition to watching a new production of Richard Strauss’ “Der Rosenkavalier” (gorgeous!), I’d spent the first part of the day taking in new music by GloRilla (wild!) and Run the Jewels (vital!).

The cousins laughed at the idea of their graying relative enjoying hip-hop and opera on a frigid Sunday.  I don’t find it odd.  A concert presented by the Harriman-Jewell Series at the Folly Theater that evening displayed similar stylistic breadth.  An audience of about 200 heard a splendid mix of Black gospel, opera, European art songs and contemporary classical music.

A 78% discount on two seats in the third row convinced me to attend the recital billed as “Our Song, Our Story: The New Generation of Black Voices.”  What a bargain!  I’ll remember the concert overseen by Damien Sneed for years.  The perplexingly unpolished presentation belied the emotional impact of the staggering talent displayed by seven musicians. 

Rather than expounding on Raven McMillon’s heartrending treatment of “Balm in Gilead,” Sneed’s reading of Hale Smith’s startling “Evocation” or the Griot String Quartet’s interpretation of Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson’s “Calvary” or assessing the success of the concert’s premise, I’ll simply note that sitting twenty feet from the category-defying Raehann Bryce-Davis was a privilege.

Album Review: Andris Nelsons- Strauss

The classical music industry’s proclivity for size is impressive.  Strauss is a case in point.  Andris Nelsons’ new release on Deutsche Grammophon features the conductor leading the Boston Symphony and Leipzig Gewandhaus in an eight-hour and 32-minute marathon of works by Richard Strauss.  Featured soloists include cellist Yo-Yo Ma and pianist Yuja Wang.  Absorbing the vast expanse provided me with considerable time to attempt to figure out how a single composer can be responsible for the worst sorts of classical schmaltz, jarring moments of jarring avant-garde noise and futuristic litanies.  I hope to one day fully understand Strauss’ fantastic achievement.

Vengeful Eyes Wide Open

Screenshot of OperaVision’s trailer of Grand Théâtre de Genève’s production of Elektra by There Stands the Glass.

I regularly recall the spectacular production of Kanye West’s 2013-14 tour promoting his intentionally grating album Yeezus. The lascivious presentations of entertainers such as Doja Cat aside, it remains the most visually audacious show I’ve witnessed. I might feel differently had I been in Switzerland last month. The futuristic staging of Richard Strauss’ gory opera Elektra at Grand Théâtre de Genève is amazing. Opera critics hated it. (Representative bad reviews are here and here.) What do they know? I hope West steps away from social media for a couple hours to glean a more productive form of visual, auditory and thematic stimulation from the ingenious version of Elektra.