MUNDIGLOSSIA

"Mundiglossia" is the album-length studio recording of Cole Blouin's concert piece Mundiglossia/Bloom (' patiently...'), written between October 2020-February 2021 for saxophonist Thomas Giles.

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download comes with .pdf of a conversation between Cole Blouin and Thomas Giles on the material, conceptual, processual, and technical dimensions of the piece, as well as a document containing Blouin's original program notes.

Louis Goldford writes:

"Among the numerous gifts that Mundiglossia leaves for the listener is a deep connection, a trust, a friendship, and a collaboration between mutually rigorous artists. This music is firmly rooted in such a gradual process — gradual by comparison to the normal pace of the city in many senses. Arguably, Mundiglossia could not have been produced by any other means than through the care and diligence afforded by these two particular artists, who have taken the time to explore, charting the technical terrains and pathways of the soprano saxophone in depth and with their characteristically imaginative fervor for the instrument’s storied history, and for the consummate artists who have come along to master it, which of course, includes Thomas Giles’ supreme contribution.

Blouin and Giles have spoken quite eloquently about the many foundational themes of this piece, developed through the pandemic and engraved during the January 6th riot. Not surprisingly, among these, the theme of anxiety in relation to the state of the world stands out. How this is subtly communicated over the course of forty-two minutes depends on how one's ears are pulled in various directions, but for me, the concept behind the work’s overall formal design provides some valuable clues.

No composer has made more use of the spiral, or has been more articulate about so-called “spiral form” as utilized in music, than the American composer Fred Lerdahl. Thinking of the spiral as a set of “expanding variations” that seem to spin out from a central point, Lerdahl’s Auskomponierung of the spiral (i.e. “composing out,” in Schenkerian terms) aptly describes the course charted throughout Mundiglossia. Spiral form assumes the prolongation and elaboration of a piece’s fundamental materials as individual musical components radiate out from a central point, alternating with one another and, at the same time, elongating and expanding into phrases from mere motives, and then from phrases into whole sections, and so on. As centrifugal forces cast these components farther away from their origin, materials develop through a basic process of expansion, just as the spiral’s concentric rotations become larger, tracing a growing circumference around the same axis of rotation. For Lerdahl, as for Blouin and Giles, and for others who have made musical use of the spiral, the axis of rotation may often be the piece’s basic materials recurring in a consistent order, even as they undergo transformation each time they come back around.

Mundiglossia firmly establishes its basic materials up front in its initial moments: a high, altissimo glissando; then radio static with saxophone pitches veiled through colored air; then a tremolo combined with a trill; then two widely spaced and resonant soprano multiphonics; then a middle-register fluttered glissando; then close-dyad multiphonics that seem to flicker just perfectly; then a brisk, ordinario melody fluttered with occasional harmonics, and so on. Listening to how these elements mutate and evolve over the course of the piece bears much fruit, for example, in how one hears the initial altissimo gesture expand into a series of rich and dense multiphonics, constantly moving through meticulously notated “registral zones” around twenty-seven minutes in. Or, for example, how the initial ordinario melody “blooms” into an elaborate swirl of grace note gestures clustering around individually quantized durations. The separation between these “modules” of initial material seem to become blurry, maze-like, and the listener may no longer perceive the boundaries between them.

Interestingly, the spiral has also served as a constant metaphor for anxiety, which brings to mind the “anxiety spiral,” or how one “falls into a spiral,” or patterns of otherwise “catastrophic thinking” that characterizes modern existence. Some of these patterns are echoed in Capitalist Realism, a source of inspiration for this music cited by Blouin and Giles. Yet the spiral, in psychotherapeutic terms, has been used to describe at times both downward and upward directionalities, a basic feedback mechanism wherein similar kinds of thoughts are self-reinforced. In one trajectory, similar thoughts beget similar thoughts, but in some other trajectory, this same basic thought process still duplicates itself over and over again, be it negative or positive in nature.

Translated loosely as “the speaking of worlds,” Mundiglossia has much to do with how Blouin’s attention is pulled in various directions by the sounds one encounters in modern living, and how time passes as one traverses various activities throughout the day. “They all exist. The idea that [various musics are] somehow separate is just a reflection of conversation, or convention, around the sound,” says Blouin. Describing the change in his state of listening to Éliane Radigue versus Madonna, the treatment of materials in the music itself mimics the interplay of these quotidien sounds; alternating, unfolding, each vying for attention while hoping to avoid pastiche, all wrapped up in a sort of spiral. At any point, the listener might wonder whether the material is spinning off the rails or “blooming” in its development, and it is this kind of excitement, or perhaps anxiety, that keeps us on edge as we listen further.

But how do we escape the spiral? Where does the piece end? The questions of where and how to end this outward process of radiation is always an interesting one. Quite late in the piece, around thirty-eight minutes, the final module of radio static with veiled saxophone pitches is heard. Every time this section comes back, one might think of an actual radio with some tune poking through the static. What began and evolved through the piece as vaguely march-like, at first, has also been transformed through gradual repetition. Now, it seems, at its culminating moments, one hears something strangely and vaguely identifiable, or hopelessly familiar. Something that we might have heard yesterday in a corner deli, anywhere. Is this a pastiche? Should we take comfort in its familiarity? Is it possible to listen without reference after all, as Blouin asks?"

—Louis Goldford
April 2023
New York City 

CREDITS:

released August 11, 2023

composed by Cole Blouin
saxophone & radio performed by Thomas A. Giles
recorded by Zack O'Brien at Tenri Cultural Institute, August 2022
mixed by Zack O'Brien at Riverrun Studio with additional editing by Cole Blouin
mastered by Murat Colaks at GERYON
cover painting "Dissolving Boundaries" by Kerri Ammirata

MYSTERIES OF THE MACABRE

MYSTERIES OF THE MACABRE is a collection of four never-before-recorded works for saxophone and piano. Its through line is a sense of theatricality, drama, and extremity—bordering on the ridiculous.

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Acclaimed concert pianist and composer Asiya Korepanova disguises what is—for all intents and purposes--a piano and saxophone concerto within the form of a saxophone sonata. Poème for Saxophone and Piano is a 15-minute work that exhibits a traditional sonata form, but with an expansive new view on the setting, including the not- so-often seen request for the saxophonist to improvise a cadenza.

Messiaen’s Thème et Variations is a much beloved standard in the twentieth century violin repertory, but this is the first time it will be performed on the saxophone. Each successive variation becomes more emotive and virtuosic, until the climax of the work, wherein the return of the theme occurs a full octave above its original iteration—demanding an extended range well into the final octave of the piano.

Ligeti’s infamous Mysteries of the Macabre is a collection of three arias from his only opera: La Grande Macabre. Composed during a modernist trend of the “anti-opera,” the work is an apocalyptic, absurdist, postmodernist commentary with stylistic references as varied as Mozart, Scott Joplin, and Monteverdi. The protagonist of the arias is Gepopo (not unlike Gestapo, perhaps?), chief of police and underling of the self-proclaimed dictator Necrotzar, who has announced his intentions to bring about the end of the world. However, marred in any manner of bureaucratic bloat, is ultimately unsuccessful in making good on his threats. The arias depict Gepopo’s difficult position of being the bearer of bad news: a comet will soon hit the earth, stealing not only their lives, but the dictator’s thunder.

Jay Schwartz Music for Saxophone and Piano is a glorious sprawling landscape of piano resonance and saxophone glissandi. Over its 19-minute duration, the piece visits three distinct locations: the first, an airy, patient introduction, its second, makes palpable reference to American minimalism in a throbbing, ominous music; but in its third, light emerges gently with a hypnotic clarity, promising never to end. The piece concludes with an abrupt--though undramatic--lift in the continuous rhythm which has been spinning long enough to be taken for granted, like waking from a dream. 

 CREDITS

Released March 19, 2022

Recorded at Skillman Music by Wei-xiong Wang.
Mixed & Mastered by Tommy Harron
Produced by Thomas Giles & Liana Pailodze Harron
Photography & Cover Design by Jennifer Clay

 

Thomas Giles, saxophone

Liana Pailodze Harron, piano