The GBSR Duo's Marathon Minimalism Rewards Deep Listening
Morton Feldman's late masterpiece, For Philip Guston, is a sonic behemoth that clocks in at an astonishing four hours and 30 minutes without pause. This daunting duration belies the work's remarkable economy, as its sparse, slow-burning texture is transformed through repetition, transposition, and subtle manipulation of motifs. The three musicians' steady hum creates an atmosphere where time seems to be squandered – a clever subversion, given the actual expenditure of resources required to realize this intricate score.
Feldman once quipped that his magnum opus was "a short four hours!" – a witty remark that perhaps doesn't quite capture the experience. Audience members may have agreed or disagreed, as seats creaked and people shifted through the performance. Amidst some initial discomfort, however, the GBSR Duo's deliberate pacing gradually won over even the most skeptical listeners.
The ensemble's nuanced approach is exemplified in Taylor MacLennan's airy flutes, Siwan Rhys' evocative piano passages, and George Barton's inventive celeste and vibraphone playing. As shifts between instruments occurred, their soundscapes began to reveal hidden depths. It was as if the performers were gently teasing out secrets from the score, rendering each moment a revelatory experience.
For Philip Guston, Feldman's work is an elegy – a testament to his enduring friendship with the abstract expressionist artist, who passed away in 1980. The live performance demonstrates the impossibility of complete abstraction in music, but it also reveals the beauty that can arise from concentrated listening and attention. As this unforgettable performance unfolded, it became clear that Feldman's genius lies not in brevity, but in his ability to distill complex emotions into an atmosphere of quiet contemplation.
Morton Feldman's late masterpiece, For Philip Guston, is a sonic behemoth that clocks in at an astonishing four hours and 30 minutes without pause. This daunting duration belies the work's remarkable economy, as its sparse, slow-burning texture is transformed through repetition, transposition, and subtle manipulation of motifs. The three musicians' steady hum creates an atmosphere where time seems to be squandered – a clever subversion, given the actual expenditure of resources required to realize this intricate score.
Feldman once quipped that his magnum opus was "a short four hours!" – a witty remark that perhaps doesn't quite capture the experience. Audience members may have agreed or disagreed, as seats creaked and people shifted through the performance. Amidst some initial discomfort, however, the GBSR Duo's deliberate pacing gradually won over even the most skeptical listeners.
The ensemble's nuanced approach is exemplified in Taylor MacLennan's airy flutes, Siwan Rhys' evocative piano passages, and George Barton's inventive celeste and vibraphone playing. As shifts between instruments occurred, their soundscapes began to reveal hidden depths. It was as if the performers were gently teasing out secrets from the score, rendering each moment a revelatory experience.
For Philip Guston, Feldman's work is an elegy – a testament to his enduring friendship with the abstract expressionist artist, who passed away in 1980. The live performance demonstrates the impossibility of complete abstraction in music, but it also reveals the beauty that can arise from concentrated listening and attention. As this unforgettable performance unfolded, it became clear that Feldman's genius lies not in brevity, but in his ability to distill complex emotions into an atmosphere of quiet contemplation.