(++++) PROJECTS IN PROGRESS

Bruckner: Symphony No. 4 (1888 version). ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Markus Poschner. Capriccio. $19.99.

Density 2036: Parts VI-VIII. Claire Chase, flute. New Focus Recordings. $24.99 (3 CDs).

     The ambitious multi-year plans to honor the 250^th anniversary of Beethoven’s birth were unceremoniously disrupted by the COVID-19 pandemic – but other multi-year musical progressions have bypassed the pandemic years and are moving ahead at their own pace, in honor of one sort of musical benchmark or another. For the 2024 bicentennial of Anton Bruckner’s birth, conductor Markus Poschner is leading recordings of all the versions of all the Bruckner symphonies – although, the Bruckner symphonies being the mishmash of multiple versions that most of them are, not everyone will necessarily agree on the definition of “completeness.” In the sequence being used for this monumental undertaking, there is one version of the F minor symphony, one of “No. 0,” and one each of Nos. 5, 6, 7 and 9. There are two each of Nos. 1, 2 and 8, three of No. 3, and 3½ of No. 4. The Fourth gets complicated because Bruckner, in 1878, created an interim finale that is now called “Country Fair.” That is the “half” version. Then there is the 1876 original, the 1878-80 that is most often performed and contains the “Hunt” scherzo, and the 1888 – now offered on a new Capriccio release as played by the ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra. The genesis of this final version (actually printed in 1889) is complex, as is so much in the world of Bruckner’s symphonies. There is only one manuscript score of this version, and it is not currently accessible to musicologists, being in private hands – but it is known through photographs at the Vienna City Library. And those photos show that several of Bruckner’s backers/assistants/editors put it together: Ferdinand Löwe copied the first and last movements, Joseph Schalk the second, and Franz Schalk the third. The work of Löwe and the Schalks has long been controversial, but in this case they seem to have served as copyists rather than originators or supervisors of emendations that they thought would make Bruckner’s music more accessible – although there was no doubt give-and-take with the composer throughout the assembly process. Yet all this background, albeit inevitable in studying Bruckner, is unnecessary to enjoy and appreciate the 1888 version of Symphony No. 4, especially since Poschner approaches it with the studiousness, stylistic understanding and clear sense of proportion that he is bringing to his entire involvement in the so-called “Bruckner 2024” sequence. The differences between the 1888 version of Bruckner’s Fourth and the 1878-80 version are mostly matters of detail, but some will be apparent to listeners more used to the earlier version: greater use of muted strings and timpani, for example, and the inclusion of cymbals in the finale. There are changes of tempo and dynamics as well, but by and large, they are refinements rather than any sort of wholesale rethinking of the symphony – which means that this very well-played Poschner interpretation is certainly worth having for Bruckner lovers who are curious about the composer’s later thoughts on the “Romantic,” but is not likely to supplant anyone’s favorite performance of the 1876 or 1878-80 versions. Nor is it intended to do so: it is designed to be just one more step toward a mission of completeness marking 200 years since the composer’s birth.

     The mission and timeline for Density 2036 are different, and even more extended than is the “Bruckner 2024” project. Density 2036 is intended as a 23-year series of commissions of flute music of all types, started in 2013 and planned to be completed on the 100^th anniversary of the first version of Edgard Varèse’s Density 21.5 for solo flute. The whole thing is the brainchild of flautist Claire Chase, who will be 58 at the project’s end, so she has a strong likelihood of making it through the whole thing and not even needing to deem it her life’s work – she can go on to other forms of creativity if she so desires. This particular project involves very avant-garde creativity, as the (+++) three-CD release of the portions from 2019, 2020 and 2021 on New Focus Recordings makes quite clear. The flute, although pervasively present, is something of an afterthought for many of the composers, who have little interest in the instrument’s sound on its own but are determined to expand it (if not necessarily enhance it) through electronics, percussion, vocals and more. Indeed, the standard Varèse-style flute is not particularly common in these works, whose creators favor the amplified flute, bass flute, contrabass flute, and such more-or-less related instruments as the alto ocarina and Aztec “death whistle” – plus such thoroughly unrelated items as a typewriter and digital stethoscope. Part VI (2019) of this project includes Magic Flu-idity by Olga Neuwirth, Louder Warmer Denser by Pamela Z, Roots of Interior by Phyllis Chen, and Reservoir 2 by Sarah Hennies. The works are pretty much what one would expect from avant-garde music: Neuwirth’s, the piece with the typewriter, uses the office machine percussionistically and the flute largely as a breath conduit ; the Pamela Z composition largely consists of a recitation of numbers with occasional flute interjections; Chen’s work uses the digital stethoscope to “hear” Chase’s heart during a performance; and Hennies’ piece features a choir that breathes in and out at first and later grunts from time to time. Part VII (2020) of Chase’s project consists of a single nine-section, 46-minute work called Sex Magic, by Liza Lim. This piece is all about sound for its own sake: Chase plays the contrabass flute, kinetic percussion, alto ocarina, Aztec “death whistle,” and pedal bass drum, and is accompanied by Senem Pirler on live electronics. Music with a strong avant-garde bent often seems uneasy when recorded: it sounds as if it would be much better seen in performance than simply heard – and would be most engaging for anyone actually performing it. In recorded form, Lim’s work invites listeners to try to figure out what movement titles mean (“Womb-bell,” “Vermillion – on Rage,” “Skin Changing,” and so forth) and what relationship, if any, the disparate sounds have to those titles. Audiences strongly committed to avant-garde aural experiences (far beyond Varèse’s experiments) will likely be the only ones drawn into Lim’s extended thought and sonic displays. Part VIII (2021) of Destiny 2036 comprises four works: two versions of Auricular Hearsay by Matana Roberts, Aftertouch by Wang Lu, and anfa (the title all lower-case) by Ann Cleare. Roberts is a multimedia artist who specifically wants visual and aural materials to interconnect, so Auricular Hearsay is especially ill-suited to audio-only presentation; it does not, though, come across as very different from other works that add percussion and live electronics to flute sounds. Lu’s work calls for flute, alto flute and bass flute as well as live electronics, Cleare’s for contrabass flute and live electronics. Lu’s mixes an occasional techno beat with various animals’ noises and the usual extensions of flute technique to encompass sounds that are usually beyond the instrument’s purview. Cleare’s piece has some Impressionism at its core, intending to express elements of the bog regions in central Ireland – but the combination of low flute and never-ending electronics results in a sound world not significantly different from those in Destiny 2036 pieces that have no real-world referents. This very extended commissioning project continues to march to the beat of its own electroacoustic drum, giving Chase plenty of opportunities to showcase her ability to perform works that stretch the flute’s boundaries. But nothing here ever quite uses Varèse as a touchstone: Density 21.5 lasts a total of four minutes, produces its effects carefully and thoughtfully, and then goes silent.