Classical Music Preview: 'George vs. Georgette'

In Magazine by Kelly Ashkettle

The Salty Cricket Composers Collective (SC3), "a crunchy, savory new music ensemble that performs the works of living composers who currently reside in Utah," is presenting "George vs. Georgette," featuring eleven compositions.

The program will range from Joey Calkins' "A Glimmer of Hope" for solo piano, to Igor Iachimciuc's "Tango" for tenor saxophone, marimba, guitar and piano. The evening will end with Crystal Young-Otterstrom's "The Allegory of George vs. Georgette" for soprano saxophone, electric guitar, vibraphone, unpitched percussion, piano and electric bass.

One of the more unusual-sounding pieces is Dave Madden's provocatively titled, "Every Album's Got a Bitch Part and That's the One For Me," a 10-minute, solo, improvisational piece. Madden described his work in an e-mail interview.

What musical projects have you been involved in?

My first public performance was in 1994 playing lead guitar in a post-grunge band (we sounded somewhere between Violent Femmes and Camper Van Beethoven). I had a Tones on Tail-esque project called Geli Raubal that almost made waves on Garageband.com when we were favorably reviewed by producer Steve Lillywhite. Since 2004 I have performed under the name nonnon. In 2007, I co-produced an album of bastard hip-hop/rap/space beats with SLC-based artist Lapsed. Recently, I performed twice per month at Provo's Penny Royal CafÈ with an improvisational group named Uba. I do remixes for bands every once in a while, haul out my amplifiers and perform so-called noise music now and then, but generally my projects just involve me in my studio.

What musical training have you had?

I wore headphones for a large portion of my childhood, unintentionally learning about orchestration from The Beatles and the Doors then Art of Noise and Depeche Mode then Public Enemy and Skinny Puppy etc., but I didn't think about making my own tracks until after high school. After years of changing majors in college, I finally decided on music. I initially studied jazz guitar and sound engineering, but added composition after hearing the myriad music of 20th century composers such as Anton Webern, John Cage, George Crumb, Takemitsu and La Monte Young. I became (and still am) addicted to this 100 years of music that I had, unfortunately, missed out on -- accidentally missing out on most early indie rock in the process. I ended up with degrees in composition, both for my undergraduate and graduate studies. For a number of years, I worked in a recording studio and as a sound designer/composer for student films, theater and a video game company. During that time, I also reviewed CDs and interviewed national bands for a Chicago-based magazine, a "course" that caught me up on indie rock, ha ha.

How did you come to be involved in a classical music event?

Well, the people on the bill are people I know from school or friends of people I know from school (one person on the bill is actually a former professor of mine). Uba performed at one of the early Salty Cricket shows last year, and I've just kept in touch with the organizers. Having a venue for my academic-style art music is a nice thing because of the reverent, respectful audience: I'm not sonically fighting an espresso machine or a neon shoe-wearing kid with a mullet who can't stop talking to his friend while I'm trying to concentrate.

What is the "bitch part" of an album, and why is that the one for you?

Funny. I thought that the theme of this particular concert was "gender issues," and the first thing that popped into my head is that quote (the title of my piece) from Trish Keenan of the group Broadcast. The context is "enduring uncomfortable passages in music (in this case, wailing orgy vocals)." I would say the "bitch part" for me involves pauses and silence. I love a nice pause in music where you think the track might be over; then it clobbers you with a refrain or wall of sound. There is a 37-minute unchanging loop at the end of Liars' first album. I find it uncomfortably hypnotic and brave, and I damn well listen to it when I have time.

What instruments will you use?

Various percussion: I have a board with several cast-iron pan lids and metal goblets screwed to it, a floor tom, some bells, a cheap dulcimer, a gong and a cymbal with a custom handle, all of which I play with sticks, hands, rubber balls, knitting needles, duct tape and a violin bow. I mic this and feed the performance into a laptop running Audiomulch software. The speakers spit out a subtle and evolving real-time echo of the acoustic version.

How would you describe your work as a composer?

Oh boy. I oscillate between sprawling electroacoustic works, beat-heavy computer-assisted tracks and free jazz improvisation -- and sometimes I mix all three. I don't subscribe to a theory or Dadaist philosophy because I think a subscription ends up being a detriment to the nature of "experimental." I just try to match my love of pop, hip-hop, "electronic" music such as IDM and art music with an urgency to make something that's new and intriguing to me. "Music for Headphones" is a good label, because I hope I make music that you need to listen to over and over on different sound systems to notice the nuances between, say, the snare drum at measure five and the one thirty seconds later. And it has to make me want to listen to it, over and over. So maybe "self-indulgent" is a proper description.

What tools do you use?

It depends on what "style" I'm working with. If I'm doing hip-hop or electronica or electroacoustic stuff, I use digital and vinyl turntables, various pedals, detuned guitars, field recordings, outboard effects and a bunch of different software to generate tones and turn my samples into something new. My recent favorite instrument is the Korg DS-10 software for the Nintendo DS. With free-jazz and experimental improvisation, I focus more on getting a clean recording of my junk percussion. I have a pretty cheap microphone that works really well, fortunately.

What other performances are you most looking forward to seeing at "George vs. Georgette," and why?

Several, but Dr. Neil Thornock's "All In Good Time," in particular. His grasp of and passion for performance, composition and music theory always blew me away: This is a guy who can play the hell out of carillon and piano, write an intense 20-minute piece for church organ -- one that never causes you to look at your watch -- then capably analyze and report on the most complicated Elliott Carter scores. I deeply respect him for his work ethic and ability to come up with something that makes me shake my head, smirk and think, "I should rip that off."

Why do you think it's important to support the work of living composers?

My dream is that uninteresting "composers" stop getting support. Really, I think people who hard work should be rewarded, and I know some really hard working composers. And the really forward-thinking ones who make history need all the help they can get in this life. This might be a narrow perception based on music I listen to/review, but European and Canadian composers have a load of arts councils that financially support, at the least, the performance, recording, pressings and distribution of CDs. I hope that anyone with genuine talent and a desire to get his or her music out there could tap into this. For me, I would enjoy enough support to work less at a day job and thus have more time to develop my ideas. By the same token, I also hope that people aren't assuming "Miles Davis is dead, I should download his catalog on Blogspot." And please don't download my music from the Japanese Napster, ha ha.

What do you think of the "new classical" music scene in Salt Lake?

I guess I wasn't aware of a scene, just a few people here and there. But if there is, I hope that some of the really talented people I know can quit their day jobs, come out of the closet, so to speak, and get in on it. Since I left school, I tend to look internationally for inspiration, but probably need to remember my roots. As a composer, you (hopefully) spend exorbitant devotion to the god of I Must Do Something Clever and New While Avoiding Gimmicks, an act that breeds independence and jealousy. I wish that all scenes could somehow avoid that last part, but I guess that's the nature of competition.

Why should people attend Salty Cricket events?

You can see the same five types of pop bands and/or three different styles of movie scores any night of the week -- so why not try something different? You might witness something that changes your thoughts about music and art. My first real exposure to the aforementioned 20th century composers was at an event like this. I wasn't doing so well in a class, and my instructor, a composition student, offered extra credit to sing a piece on her recital. It was relatively wild and harmonically strange music that I didn't understand but felt drawn to. This is music you can't ignore. Maybe you will change your major.

What else do you have happening with your musical projects that we should know about?

In September, I released an album of "noisy hip-hop" on Seattle-based Automation Records and collaborated on a remix of a song by UK artist, Mothboy (those are both out on iTunes). A few days ago, I finished up a remix of a really interesting French rap/noise group Air Bacha (I'm hoping that will lead to an EP). Oh and I contributed a bunch of songs to a "Booty Bass" project with local artist Nolens Volens. I have CDs full of remixes and glitching guitars and messed-up timpani performances and field recordings of melting snow and on and on that I'm trying to organize and release. Stay tuned (no pun intended).